#but i think i got pretty close with these styles!!

[httpknjoon]

say goodnight and go | myg

plot | that time when everyone seemed to be doing something on valentine's day and the popstar and her bassist have all the time with their single asses.

w.c | 3.3k

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | enemies to lovers, popstar x bassist, fluff, angst

note | wrote this last-minute today, just something short n sweet for valentines. enjoy!

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

DAY 93: SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA

Your fans from South Korea are one of your most active fanbases, always showering you with praises and support through social media. You even heard one of your songs becoming a trend on their online platforms, with celebrities and big local personalities doing it. So to show appreciation for them, you and your management decided to stay in the country for a longer amount of days.

So far, you have done your back-to-back concerts, variety show appearances, and media interviews, making sure that your fans will get a lot of content. You also got to do some shopping in Myeongdong with Cal and Paul in your first two days in the country since you know how great everyone's skincare products are.

"Are you going out?"

It's your last day before you leave for another country tomorrow. You sat on the nook near the big window of your hotel room, overviewing the busy streets of Seoul, when Cal came in and checked on you.

"I would love to, but I don't like to see couples eating each others' faces on the street." you shuddered in exaggerated disgust, Cal laughed in response.

Tearing your eyes off the scene, you see your assistant all dressed up. From her usual jeans and dark-colored hoodie, she wore and pastel green coat dress and white boots. She also wore white fuzzy gloves, tights, and a scarf for the winter weather outside. Her hair is also styled in soft waves.

"You are so, so pretty." you smiled as she gave you a twirl. "Where are you and your fiance heading?"

She looks up, recalling her agenda for the day, "We're going to Nami Island, I think. I don't really know. Art planned the whole thing."

"Sounds nice."

You tried to smile before looking back to the window. A sense of heaviness sits on your chest as you hug your knees closer to your body, resting your chin on it. The feeling you have been trying to avoid today, Valentine's Day, cannot help but revive itself in your system. But it has been looming over you for a while now, especially in Seoul, where there are a lot of lovely, cute couples everywhere.

"You okay?" Cal asked, sensing your aura shifting.

"I am, I am!" You turned to look at her again, smiling to reassure her. "Now, go on and enjoy that date. We know Art has a low tolerance for waiting."

She chuckled before giving you a quick hug that you know means well. As soon as the door closed, you were back staring outside the glass. You watched the cars move in different directions, and people walked around places. You watched almost twenty-two stories over them, but your mood cannot keep up and remained low ever since you woke up today.

For the first time in years, you are alone in this day of romance. You tried to stay optimistic about it, thinking that you should be grateful you got out of that toxic on-and-off relationship. But man, wouldn't it be nice to be with someone in this cold, cuddly weather outside?

You sighed, combing your fingers through your unstyled hair, before getting up to your bed. You thought of just taking advantage of your free time to rest in the midst of your ongoing world tour.

"I don't think I can bring this with me, Juwon."

Yoongi let out a sheepish chuckle while holding a brown bag of Tupperware filled with kimchi, braised potatoes, lettuce, rice, and marinated uncooked bulgogi. His cousin laughed.

"Not my problem, man. Mom saw one of your videos online and said you looked thinner. She wanted to make sure you're eating a lot, especially now you're in the country."

It has been more than a decade since Yoongi visited his birth country. Unlike his parents who come and go to South Korea yearly, he never got to visit since he moved to LA. When his mother learned that you would be taking your tour to Seoul, she called up every family member to let them know Yoongi was coming. Everyone was delighted to see him after a long time. His grandma even handed him an envelope money, just like when he was a little kid. Yoongi tried to decline it shyly, but his heart warmed when she told him to keep it as it was for all the Lunar New Year he missed.

"She really wanted to see you, but she and Dad are celebrating their anniversary in the UK right now," Juwon told him while they sat in one of the cafes just on the outskirts of Seoul. "She always told everyone how her nephew is a celebrity in the US."

Yoongi laughed, cheeks warming up, "I'm not a celebrity. I'm a bassist for one."

"Eh, it's the same." his cousin shrugged, making both of them laugh. "You know, a lot of YN's fans here think you two are dating."

Yoongi's jaw tenses at the mention of you. Considering that you two are barely talking right now, being tangled in such gossip with you is a little startling for him.

Juwon continued, "Like, I would scroll on social media and I would see edits of you on stage made by your fans here. There are talks about her performances and gimmicks with you on online forums."

Yoongi knows. His father even asked him once about his relationship status with you during the holidays. When he was on his way to the cafe, a young student recognized and asked him if you two are together after asking for a selfie. And he answered the same thing.

"We're not dating. I'm just her bassist."

Juwon seemed to not really care about Yoongi's relationship status with you, just wanting to share the growing popularity of the topic. They went on talking about life and everything big happening to them. Yoongi appreciated his cousin not mentioning his failed engagement or asking him personal questions about you (since that is something other people do). A couple of hours later, Juwon had to go.

"I'm taking the missus out. So, I really should go," he explained, smiling sheepishly.

Yoongi smiled before they shared a quick hug, "Of course. I'll try to visit again after the tour so I can meet everyone."

It was only afternoon and Yoongi was already on his way back to the hotel. Love is everywhere, he can feel, hear, see, and even taste it with how sweet the heart-shaped candies he sees from the street vendors. On the bus, he cannot help but feel outcasted by how everyone comes and goes in two while he sits alone in the farthest seat. He tried not to be a bitter hater about today's event. But how can he be single right now and there are middle-schoolers holding hands in front of him?

He rolled his eyes as he walked past the young couple who was walking too slow for his liking. Just a few distance from the hotel, he stopped when he got a call from someone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Yoongi. Are you in the hotel right now?" Art, who's on the other line, asked.

Yoongi continued walking, "Yeah, just arrived. Why?"

Today is meant to be their free day before flying to Thailand tomorrow. He recalls any possible reason why the tour manager would call him today.

"Yeah, uhm, can you check on YN? Callie has been trying to contact her, but she's not answering any texts or calls. She just wants to know how she's doing."

His heart dropped, making him pause near the elevators. He has not really talked with you alone these past few days. You two barely had conversations after that little argument the week after the holiday break.

Yoongi scratched his brow, "Uhm, how about Noah or Akio?"

"They are still on their way to visit Busan. Fred is out of town too," he replied.

Knowing there were no other choices, his shoulder slumped like the whole world fell on it, "Okay, I'll check on her."

"Okay, thank you, Yoongi!" Art sighed in relief. Yoongi heard Cal's relief in the background, thanking him too, "Thanks, Yoongi! Please tell her to text me back."

After saying where your room is, the call ended. Why can't you answer the calls? Yoongi tried contacting you himself when he got in the elevator. Although he knows that you might ignore him, he still tries just to avoid knocking on your door again. But you did not answer. So he got to the floor higher than his and immediately looked for your room.

He felt his heart beating faster when he stopped in front of Room 2202. Chewing on his lip, he raised his finger before the doorbell. He wished he had the same determination when he knocked on your door months ago. He held his breath when he clicked it.

But he got no response. It took him three more tries before hearing footsteps inside and by that time, he was more worried than nervous.

"What— Yoongi?"

Instantly recognizing the person who interrupted your movie marathon, your creased forehead softened up as your shoulders slowly tensed down. Yoongi didn't speak immediately, causing you to just stand there while his eyes scanned your face with lines forming between his brows. You felt like shrinking again under his gaze, wondering if other people feel the same way when your bassist looks at them.

"Were you crying?" he asked since he quickly took notice of your tear-stained cheeks, puffy eyes, and lips.

When you look away, Yoongi can read the embarrassment on your face. He thought you looked cute even though you just cried, but still he was worried by what was the reason behind it. But he didn't want to ask, to cross the line like you said that night. So he didn't.

Instead, he cleared his throat, "Art called me. He said you—"

To see you open the door wider as if you are inviting him to come in is a surprise to him. Your eyes meet, communicating with no verbal words in between. But when your sight starts moving from his eyes to his nose then to his lips. Something in your stomach twists. Before anything happened, you spoke, moving your eyes back up.

"Please, just come in. Someone might see us in the hallway."

Always careful. Yoongi stepped in with the same brown bag in his hand. He waited for you to close the door before speaking up again.

"Art called me and he wanted me to check on you. Cal is worried you were not answering her calls."

Your lips gaped as you forgot where your phone was. Since you were left alone hours ago, you spent your time watching rom-com movies, including the one you were just crying about before Yoongi knocked.

"Wait, I'll look for it."

Yoongi watched you rush to your messy bed. He still has not moved from the same spot near the door, like his feet were nailed to the ground. Not less than a minute later, you came back with your phone in hand.

"Just texted her back. I was on DND since last night, I didn't notice," you explained and why were you explaining to him? You don't know.

He didn't say anything and just looked at you blankly. What was to say anyway? You noticed him not really speaking much when you're around. You mean, Yoongi does not really speak a lot, but you observed how quieter he got when the holiday break ended. The eye contact lessened and so did the small bickering you two do in every rehearsal. It feels wrong to annoy you like before again. There are so many times you want to, but you just can't.

You were chewing on your lower lip unconsciously while looking down at the paper bag in his hand, and could not bring yourself to look up. Yoongi silently wondered what was going on inside your creative head.

"What's that?" you broke the silence, referring to the bag.

"Oh... uhm... it's food from my aunt," he replied, lifting the bag. He pulled out one of the Tupperware. "She wanted me to eat more, said I'm getting thinner."

You don't know why, but that made you chuckle. Yoongi smiled upon hearing your little laugh.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, even though it can be a risk over the line you spoke about before.

But instead of reminding him about that stupid line, you replied, "Ice cream is food, right?"

Yoongi clicked his tongue, shaking his head like you were a great disappointment. He pulled out each Tupperware one by one and placed it on the nearby marble counter.

"Have you had these foods before?" he asked and you simply shook your head. "Then, you're going to have them now."

Yoongi didn't care if he crossed that imaginary line because his mom would kill him if he didn't make you eat lunch. Heading to your kitchenette, he looked for a pan and turned on the stove.

"I will just cook the meat. Then, we'll eat this with rice and the side dishes." he explained while putting the meat on the hot surface.

"What... What should I do? Should I help? Do I have to do anything?" you asked, heavily confused.

Yoongi chuckled at your innocent questions, "You can just watch, YN."

And you did while being intrigued and amused at the same time by the unexpected scenario. Just twenty minutes ago, you were crying over Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler. But now, you have your bassist cooking before you.

Yoongi cooked all of the meat since he could not really bring it with him tomorrow. He will make sure to eat them all if you do not enjoy it anyway. There are no plates in the hotel room, so you two had to improvise and use the lids of the Tupperware as plates. It was also a relief that his aunt included chopsticks in the bag.

He noticed how your eyes lit up as he explained the side dishes, particularly the potatoes. He picked one and placed it on your 'plate'. You hummed as you tasted the sweetness on your tongue.

"I love this. So much better than room service!"

He smiled before getting you some kimchi on your plate too. That's when your expression dropped, he noticed.

"It's kimchi. Don't worry, it's good."

"What does it taste like? And how should I eat it?" you asked, staring at the very red dish.

"It's spicy and sour. It can be sweet too. Depends on who made it. But my aunt always preferred it spicier." he explained before eating some. Yeah, it's spicy. "Do you eat spicy food?"

"I like spicy foods, but this one looks really spicy. It's very red."

He laughed, "It's good. Taste it! You can eat it alone, with rice, or meat. Like this."

Yoongi pulled his chair next to yours, simply to make you a lettuce wrap like in a local Korean barbecue place. He didn't sit too close, but sensing his familiar scent once again made your heart jump as you watched him make you a lettuce wrap.

"Here. Say 'ah'." Yoongi opened his mouth demonstrating.

You tried not to smile, your head messing with you again, as you followed his order. He helped you with the lettuce wrap. Immediately after chewing it, there's a burst of flavor in your mouth. The kimchi is spicy, sour, and maybe a little salty. But you liked it.

Yoongi smiled when he saw you nodding your head, "See? It's great, right? You should really listen to me more."

You glared at him before picking up your chopsticks to eat. Eating in comfortable silence, Yoongi quietly observed how you enjoyed the meal he brought, specifically the kimchi. He was pleased to see you munching on the dishes.

"Slow down on the kimchi." he teased you at one point, but you just scrunched your nose at him.

"I should have added matching couple-shirts in my merch during the concert. I would have earned millions here."

After having your late lunch, you and Yoongi found yourselves in the same nook you were sitting at earlier today. You two sat on each corner, looking down on the noisy and busy city moving below. It felt like the events after the afterparty were forgotten for the meantime as you two chatted about 50 First Dates, the movie you were crying about, and how he preferred The Wedding Singer more. There was a debate for a whole twenty minutes about it and you were sure Yoongi just let you win, so you can move to another topic.

"Yeah, on my way here earlier, every couple who will get on the bus wears the same thing. I looked like a sore thumb." he quipped, earning another laugh from you while you took another bite of kimchi.

The side dish was almost completely consumed by you alone, much to Yoongi's surprise.

"I told you to slow down on the kimchi." he teased you again.

"But it's good. Tell your aunt it's good, send her flowers for me," you suggested.

He scoffed, "Oh, my aunt would love hearing that and will probably send you five more Tupperware of this."

"Well, sign me up. I wouldn't mind having stock." you grinned before taking the last piece of radish.

He shook his head, laughing, "And you finished it all."

You carefully placed the empty Tupperware in front of you, raising both of your hands like you were a suspect caught, "Not guilty at all."

"She would really love you." he chuckled, leaning back on the wall of the nook.

"Well, that just means she has a very great taste." you quipped, looking outside.

Mirroring Yoongi, you rested your back on the wall while still looking outside. In contrast to your full and contented stomach, your heart feels light at someone's unexpected appearance in your hotel room. You were so ready to watch movies all day and maybe call for room service for food. A small smile forms on your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi feels the same thing. Mainly, he was happy the food his aunt made did not go to waste and he got to eat it with someone, who obviously enjoyed it. He tried not to chuckle when he saw a spot of the red sauce near your lips. Before he could even stop himself, his thumb gently wiped it off your face.

You held your breath at the sudden touch with your eyes flickering to meet his. He was frozen on the spot, still in the leaned-in position. For a second, the city noise is drawn out. Until he pulled back and you noticed his cheeks have a very slight tint of red.

"Uhm... there was sauce." he mumbled.

"Hmm..." you awkwardly responded looking away.

Silence joined the room again and Yoongi felt like he had gone past the line already. He slapped his head mentally with what he did. The silence reminded him of a scenario that happened at the end of last year. As he feels it getting into him, he gets up.

"I-I should go. We have an early flight tomorrow."

You looked back at him and were always easy to read for him. But, he didn't want to assume that you wanted him to stay based on your eyes alone. But you did, you really did. Maybe for a companion for tonight? You cannot tell, but you enjoyed this casual conversation with him. You can just hope he did too.

"Okay," you replied, almost a whisper.

You watched him gather the Tupperware back into the paper bag, not moving an inch in the nook. You waited for him to look back at you before he leaves, but he was too focused on the fucking Tupperware. So, you just turned your head outside, letting out a sigh.

And just when Yoongi is about to turn the doorknob, he takes one last look at you. His shoulders depleted, seeing you alone while watching the city outside.

"YN?" he called your name and he was unsure if he saw a glimmer of something in your eyes when you turned around. "Good night."

You forced a smile on your lips, "Thank you, Yoongi. Good night."

note | a little preview for the tour's second leg too...

SERIES TAGLIST

kindly check out my taglist rules on my pinned post :)

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit @goodnight-n-go-home @ronyiboniyy @jimeg629 @lveegsoi @madussthoughts

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

[littlelamy]

hiii i have a reqq ^w^, can pretty please do something where reader hallucinates a bit and rafe finds them in the midst of it? like reader is full on having a conversation with the wall… it’d mean a lot since i struggle with hallucinating a bit tytyty p.s. i love your style of writing <33

lamy's note: hi angel <3 thank you for trusting me with this, i hope you like it!

there’s something about the way the air hums that makes your teeth ache. the walls shift, slow, thick like molasses, stretching and curling at the corners, whispering little secrets meant only for you. they know your name, you think. they know everything.

“i told you not to do that,” you say, lips barely moving. the wall ripples, shudders. or maybe that’s just your vision tilting, the floor tilting. your hands are on your lap, fingers twitching against the fabric of your jeans. someone’s sitting across from you, knees pulled up to their chest, but when you blink, it’s just the old dresser, its drawers slightly ajar like a mouth caught mid-sentence.

“yeah, yeah,” you murmur, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. “i get it. but you can’t just—” a breath, heavy, weighted. “you can’t just leave me here.”

there’s no answer. the walls breathe. you’re so tired. you don’t remember the last time you closed your eyes. you don’t remember the last time you slept without dreaming.

then, the floor creaks. different this time. heavier. real.

“jesus—what the fuck?” rafe’s voice, sharp at the edges. not the way it usually is when he’s pissed, no, this is different. this is something like worry, something like fear, though he’ll never admit it. he steps into the room, into your space, crouches down in front of you. “who the hell are you talking to?”

“them,” you whisper, glancing at the dresser, the walls, the space between your knees where the shadows stretch long and thin. “they were just here.”

rafe exhales, runs a hand through his hair. he looks at you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces. like maybe if he stares hard enough, he’ll figure it out. he won’t. you don’t even know what’s real half the time.

“okay,” he says finally, voice lower now, softer. “okay. just—come here, alright?” he reaches for you, hesitant, like you might disappear if he moves too fast. his fingers graze your wrist, solid and warm, an anchor against the pull of whatever’s creeping into the corners of your mind. “just look at me.”

so you do. his face is clearer than the rest of the room, steadier. the walls murmur, but he drowns them out. you let him.

“you’re alright,” he tells you, like it’s a fact. like it’s something unshakable. “i got you.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @drewsephrry

[oceantornadoo]

ch13 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: allusions to torture. reader has some ptsd. SMUT.

also i did not edit this srry

masterlist | next

“Again.”

Johnny sighs to his right, but Simon ignores it, too concerned with the man in the chair in front of him. “Say it again.” The man in the chair (Richard, 34, nephew of a Price uncle, twice-removed or some bullshit) spits out a glob of blood on the floor before clearing his throat. “The night the weapons were stolen I was at home with my wife. We watched a new episode of one of those trashy American shows, The Bachelor, that dropped that night. I was off-shift. Came in at 6am because of the Mrs. Price emergency.” Simon’s eyebrow twitches under his mask. Three days after getting his sister back and this is what sniffs out the rat? An American show Johnny loves to pirate? He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Johnny catches his eye and he can’t fault the man for the grin on his face. When Simon turns back to Richard, red in the face, he’s pretty sure the man’s figured it out. “The Bachelor drops Mondays.”

Richard sputters, twitching. “We were catchin’ up from the week before.” Simon shakes his head, glancing at the papers on the table to his left. “You had off every other night that week and only got to it by Sunday? Tellin’ me the wife keeps up with the drop schedule but waited six days?” He walks closer to Richard, gloved hands gripping the man’s jaw tightly. He presses his fingers into the bruise near his mouth, pressing hard until he breaks.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m in debt, man, 50,000 Euros. No one knows so when I lost to the guy at that shithole of a bar and he offered me a job, I couldn’t say no! He said it was just a few documents, wouldn’t hurt anyone…” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Before Simon can grab a tool from the wall, Johnny clears his throat. “Let me, sir. Gaz called. You’re needed at base.” That could only mean one thing. Simon nods, swallowing thickly as he leaves the room to the sound of screams. 

It’s a half hour drive back to the Castle, but it feels like eons. Simon changes his gloves and mask with the limo partition up, even swapping his sweatshirt out for your benefit. The smell of blood fades when the fabric is removed, bundled into a trash bag he leaves in the car. When Simon double checks his phone, his hands are shaking. Another oddity of the week, too miniscule to dwell on.

It’s been three days since he last saw you, cuddled up in Price’s arms like an injured stray. For all Simon has tried to protect you from, the insults of childhood and your shared shitty father, it worries him to think you got hurt despite his greatest efforts. There’s no doubt that you’re a strong woman, but he’s not sure what Shepherd did to you and no matter what, there’s only so much a person can take. The guilt that’s been following him since the marriage is heavy like a chain, weighing down his every motion. Did he marry you off too early? Was Price the wrong pick? Thoughts swirl like a snowstorm in his head, only stopping when the car pulls up to the Castle.

It’s the perfect home he would have picked for you, given the chance. Sophisticated wealth, nothing flashy or too pretentious. Gaz mentioned that you redecorated, and he can see parts of you in the artwork, in the new chairs meant for casual conversation instead of just functionality. You’ve turned the base into a home and the guilt creeps up again thinking of how you might have never returned to it.

“Mr. Riley.” The door guards nod at Simon as he walks through. He feels out of place in his hoodie, used to his lax uniform in Manchester. Price styles himself more as a businessman than Simon ever has. He hides the scars with gloves and a mask but he doesn’t delude himself into thinking of himself as a professional. He’s more like the head of a wolf pack, barking and snarling at anyone who gets too close. Nothing like Price and he’s glad for it. You deserve someone who can give you a semblance of a normal life, pretending like he’s going to work at an office instead of meeting illicit weapons dealers on the edge of town.

Gaz is waiting for him in the foyer, immaculate in a deep blue button-up. It’s the first time he’s seen the man shaved, a testament to the bonds that you forged with Price men that were tested in the past week. “Ghost.” Gaz nods, leading him through the Castle. “How is she?” Gaz walks slower than usual, seeming to need more time before bringing Simon upstairs. “She’s…recovering. Been talking with a trauma therapist the Captain trusts.” Simon nods. He can’t imagine what they put you through, why John ordered him to find a new set of clothes when they found you. Everything he learns is a strike against Phil, whenever Simon finds him. John promised him retribution.

“How is she physically? They hurt her?” Gaz stops in front of the stairs, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “She’s skittish. Can’t approach ‘er from behind, got t’ give ‘er plenty of warnin’. I only saw her last night when she came down for some food, ‘s the first time she’s been out of the room. The Captain’s given me a temporary title while he’s taking care of ‘er.” It’s not temporary. Simon can sense it, leadership senses setting off alarms. Loyalty, initiative, intelligence - Gaz has it all. A fine replacement if he’s ever seen one. Too bad Johnny hates him. 

Simon nods, ready to see his sister. Before he can step up the stairs, Gaz clears his throat. “If you can, sir, convince her to drink some water? Last night, all she could do was look at the glass.” Christ. What did they do to you?

When Simon climbs up the stairs, you’re lounging in the sitting room, swathed in clothes too big for you. The couch you’re on is out of place, tugged from its original spot so the back is now against the wall. Tactical. He ensures his steps are loud so you sit up with a smile instead of a shudder. “Si!” You grin and his heart stops at the fact you still have the ability to. They didn’t take everything. “Hey, love. Can I hug ya?” You nod, setting your book down with your arms reaching up. “I missed you.” You murmur as he hugs you. The angle is awkward as he towers over you but he doesn’t particularly care, sitting down next to you while keeping you in his arms.

“How ya doin’, kid?” He asks when you release him. Simon slips off his medical mask into his pocket. On closer look, you’re wearing John’s clothes, the name of some obscure London footie team emboldened on the chest. He can hear the man’s voice come from behind the closed bedroom door, likely on a phone call. “I’m okay. John got me a therapist and she’s really helping. She specializes in kidnapping victims and immediate solutions and…yeah. Isn’t that a bit weird, saying I’ve been kidnapped?” On second look, you don’t look your best. There’s circles on your eyes and faded bruises on your jaw, like someone grabbed it and forced it open. Instead of answering, Simon brushes the soft skin of your neck until he can find your pulse. You don’t jolt like he expected you to, instead curling into the feeling of his familiar touch. 

“I knew somethin’ was wrong ‘fore Gaz called. Had this dream of you screamin’ my name, askin’ for my help from somewhere far. When I woke, I just knew. Ready to tear the world apart f’ you, kiddo. You’re still my little sister to protect.” A tear escapes your eye. He brushes it away, then squeezes your cheek like a grandmother would before pulling back. “I’m still lookin’ f’r others who were involved. They’ll get what’s coming for ‘em.” You nod, catching his hand before he pulls back completely. “Thank you for that, Si, but also, I just- just need you here, you know? I think your presence here will do a lot more for me than being an avenging angel.” He gets it, he does, but he didn’t get to kill Shepherd. He was John’s but Phil is Simon’s and no matter what, he will be found. “Think there’s a way f’r us to split it?” It. His time. Your wants, his needs. 

You squeeze his hand and nod. “I think so.” You croak out. Simon can sense the need for levity, so he starts telling you about how Johnny almost got himself blown up a few weeks ago when dealing with a Chinese chemical supplier. Simon’s not usually the joker between you two but he channels the infectious energy of his husband, in pursuit of making you laugh. You finally giggle when he mimics the windblown look on Johnny’s face, even putting in the effort to mimic his mohawk with his hands. It’s goofy and reminiscent of your childhood, the ghost of Tommy making a rare appearance in the corner of the room. Your kidnapping has sent Simon off the edge and out of character, desperate to do anything to repair what has been broken.

The bedroom door creaks open and John’s heavy footsteps follow. “Hi, sweetheart.” John approaches the couch head on, kissing your forehead before nodding at Simon. “Simon.” He nods back, not feeling the need to put his mask back on. “John.” “What is this?” Your eyes flick between the two of them, brows furrowed. Simon looks at John, who shrugs. “What’re ya talkin about?” You frown at Simon’s words, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Since when is there a bromance? What did I miss?” John sighs, dragging a hand down his face. Simon reaches out to ruffle your hairdo, smiling when you screech and bat his hand away. “‘S called mutual respect, sweetheart. Not sure what a bromance is.” You mock John’s sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ll be wearing friendship bracelets by the end of this year if you keep going on this trajectory.” The men lock eyes with twin glances of horror.

“On that note, you good if I pop in downstairs, sweetheart? Gaz needed help on something.” A look of understanding passes between you two, a look Simon has felt time and time again with his husband. It’s like a punch to the gut in the softest way possible. “All good, I’ll be here with Simon.” John nods, kissing your forehead before taking a few steps back towards the staircase. Before he can leave, Simon clears his throat. “John, you have any condos or safehouses in the area you aren’t usin’?” John’s eyes flicker with a different kind of understanding. “Enough space for two, I gather?” Simon nods, ignoring how you’re kicking his shin. “For a month or two, at least.” You kick him harder and he shoves your foot away in a playful push. “I’ll see what I can do.” John responds, nodding before heading down the stairs. 

“You’re stayin’?” When he turns to look at you, your lip is quivering. He sighs in faux exhaustion before tugging your legs on top of his. “‘Course I’m stayin’. Can’t let my baby sister fight alone.” You shyly wipe your eyes before meeting his own. “What about the business in Manchester?” He shrugs, acting like he didn’t spend hours on the phone with his best men last night. “It’s what I’ve got men for. Plus, you can show me ‘round.” Instead of squealing or jumping him, you give him a small smile. It feels older and mellow, something he hates. “Thanks, Si.” He squeezes your foot. He wants to bring up the water drinking, but you seem a little fragile right now. He’s got time now, something he won’t miscount. “‘S what I’m here for. Now tell me the rest ‘f y’r redecoratin’ plans. That entryway could use some work.” You grin and he’s reminded of the toothy five-year old, playing hide and seek in the Riley house of horrors. A survivor, through and through.

-

Every day passes faster than the last. You find out your therapist, Marie, is actually Dr. Marie Laswell, Kate’s wife. She promises you that despite their marriage, everything you share is confidential and stays between you. It’s hard work, recounting everything that happened in your daily meetings. John is there, kissing your forehead and cuddling you after nightmares, like the perfect gentleman. As the adrenaline drains and you find yourself living again, you crave more than that.

You want to go back to your last fight. You know it could be self-sabotage, but in the confines of the Castle, it’s like nothing can harm you. John only has guards you know working. Terrance stops by once or twice, telling you he got promoted. Simon visits whenever he can. Your reunion with Johnny is heartfelt and strong. Gaz feels like a son now, protective and firm about your security. All of these facts coalesce into a suit of armor, knowing that as long as you don’t leave the building, you are safe.

Marie tells you it’s not the healthiest mindset. You remind her progress is progress. She sighs in a way that reminds you of her wife.

The one-month anniversary of your kidnapping creeps up on you, haunting the corners of your mind. There’s an ache deep in your heart to return to normal, no matter what he said about finding a new one. You want so badly to change without looking over your shoulder. On rainy days, there’s a phantom ache in the side of your arm that Phil sunk a syringe into. He’s still in the wind, a fact that agitates Simon more and more. Small wins happen too. There are days you don’t need John at home, content with phone calls throughout the day and a long dinner at night. You’ve gone on two (2!) walks by yourself, passing through the park across from the Castle as guards trail behind you and at the corners of the park. You’ve progressed to Gatorade and flavored carbonated water but still jump at unknown touches. Except, of course, John’s.

Every night runs like clockwork. You shower, John standing outside the door like a protective hound. Then you slip on a robe and let him in, brushing your teeth and finishing your routine together. He leaves to ‘check something’ and always returns with a new non-water liquid he wants you to try, like a new Gatorade or flavor of tea. In the time he’s gone, you change. You’ve graduated from speed-changing to taking your time, rubbing lotion on your body before slipping on pajamas. When John comes back, you cuddle and talk, and then lights out.

The same damn routine. Every. Night. You feel like a nun.

The anniversary passes without little fanfare. John takes the day off, unusual but part of the new normal. Gaz is left in charge again, a fact he’s getting more used to. When you wake in the morning, something else new happens.

Morning light warms your eyelids. John’s arm is a comfortable weight around your waist, his forearm hair rubbing the patch of your stomach exposed by your raised shirt. Something pulses low in your belly. When he turns to pull you closer into him, your stomach flutters. His face tucked into your neck, the weight of him searing as his body is half-slung over yours. It’s a welcome change from how you usually find yourself on top of him, like he’s pinning you to reality. A body scan reveals wetness between your thighs and a keenness between your lips.

When you cant your hips slightly, chasing that fluttering feeling, his cock twitches in his sweats where it’s against the outside of your thigh. You tilt them higher, fighting against the weight of him, and smile when his cock twitches again. “Go t’sleep.” He groans, rough and sleepy into your ear. Instead of listening, you push your thigh outwards to the heavy weight of him.

“Watch what y’r doin’, pet.” Pet is new. Unlocking a new nickname sends a thrill down your spine. You ignore the connotations behind it. “John…” You whisper, injecting an extra breath of air into your speech. He pulls his head up, hair mussed and eyes blurry. He’s beautiful.

He props himself up on his forearm, giving your own arm freedom to move. You do so, sliding it from his neck to his torso, snaking down to follow his happy trail. “What d’ya think y’r doin’?” You run your fingers through his trimmed body hair, only dipping slightly into the elastic of his boxers. “I want to feel you.” You blink at him with wide eyes. He pulls his core backwards, letting your hand drop on the mattress. “Y’r not ready.” You frown, scooting back into your pillows so you can properly meet his eyes. “I think I get to decide that, John.” He closes his eyes, sighing. “I was readin’ an article and-” You huff, pulling back further until you’re sitting on the opposite side of the bed. 

“This is the problem we have, John. You trust external sources more than me.” If he was a weaker man, he’d look whiplashed. Unfortunately, you got a husband prepared for anything, a man who can argue at the drop of a hat. “I’m jus’ sayin’, sweetheart, maybe we wait. I don’t want t’ hurt ya.” You scoff, pulling your knees to your chest. “Can you trust when I say you won’t hurt me? That I can handle myself and know my limits?” He’s silent for a second too long.

You launch yourself out of the bed, heading for the bathroom. He’s faster than you, weak from weeks of lethargy, beating you to the punch to stand in front of the door instead of tugging you back into him. “Stop.” You place a hand on his chest, intent to push him away, but all he does is cover it with his own. “Can you jus’ wait for a second?” That’s when you take a second look at your husband. How he’s panting like he’s out of breath, even if you know he goes for runs every day. His pupils are blown and feral, a predator in the wild. You stand for a bit, letting your palm track how his breaths go in and out of his chest.

“Deep breaths for me, baby.” How nostalgic it feels, the roles reversed as this time it’s you talking him off a ledge. His breathing calms after a minute, eyes going tame as he squeezes the life out of your hand. When he’s calmed, he speaks. “The last time you ran from me after an argument, you were taken from me.” Your heart breaks a little at the weakness he lets you see. Your hand slides up into his beard, brushing over the rough strands as you look in his eyes. “I wasn’t running, John. I just needed some space.” He shakes his head in disagreement. “Ya don’t know what it felt like, seein’ you step into tha’ car an’ gettin’ a call hours later that you were gone.” You nod, biting your lip.

“You’re right, John. I don’t know. And you don’t know how my brain works. You don’t know how harsh grips trigger me but yours never have.” Understanding brews in his eyes, cloudy like a cup of coffee. He pulls you in closer by the waist, lining you up until your pelvises meet. “I get it, sweetheart. I trust you.” You exhale a breath at his words.

“I didn’t take ya on tha’ trip months ago because I was meetin’ a new supplier an’ I didn’t trust him. You know firsthand now how dangerous my world is. I know you’ve lived this life, but London is more cutthroat than Manchester could ever be. ‘M not sorry f’r smotherin’ ya, because at least y’r safe. ‘S my number one concern in this world.” It’s terrible, how you don’t care that he’s admitted that he smothers you. How all you care about is how he knew what you were referencing, even if it was from months ago.

“How do I know you want me for me?” Another concern of yours from your fight before the kidnapping. He shrugs, giving you a wry smile. “Guess you’ll have to trust me.”

You drag him into the bathroom, jumping onto the counter and pulling him between your legs. You practically maul his face, kissing him with unrestrained want. His admission flipped a switch in you, a longing that’s been asleep for a while. It wakes up when he pulls you closer to his pelvis, your clothed cunt rubbing against the outline of his cock. You’re still wet from earlier, your folds sticking to airy fabric. 

“Didn’t want it like this.” He breathes behind your ear. John sucks a soft patch of skin there, licking at the sweat from your sleep before trailing down your neck. “Wanted t’ eat ya out f’r an hour ‘fore even pullin’ my cock out.” You run a hand down his rigid back muscles, pulling at the fabric until he lets you tug it off. John laves his tongue at your neck, alternating between sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. His hands grip your hard, thumbs inching closer and closer to your core. You’re wearing shorts without underwear, a perfect combination that he soon discovers. “What else?” You moan, leaning your head back until it hits the mirror behind you. It’s perfect, knowing there’s nothing but a wall behind your back. It calms the worried part of your brain, letting you fully focus on the moment.

“Then I’d let ya suck my cock, get it nice an’ warm in tha’ mouth of yours. Let you rub y’r cunt against me.” You whine at the image, nails digging into his back as he continues making out with your neck. Finally, he tugs your sleep shirt off, trailing downwards to suck at your tits. He squeezes one while sucking the other, pulling hard enough to make it hurt. There’s no part of him you can reach, the angle of it awkward and wrong. The solution is to trail your free hand up your thigh, passing his hands to push the fabric of your shorts aside and thumb at your clit. “Wha’s this, hm?” He murmurs, switching to your other tit. “Wanna be ready f’ you, John.” The wetness seeping from your cunt makes it easy to slip a finger in, stretching yourself in preparation for your husband. He’s letting you set the rhythm in a way he usually doesn’t, and you love him for it, something you don’t think too hard about.

“Let me?” He asks and you nod immediately. He replaces your hand with his own, sliding two thick fingers into your hole. You clench immediately at the intrusion, more out of tension than fear. John stops, glancing up at you from where he’s leaning down. “Need me to stop?” You shake your head, moving your hips forward so his fingers slide in deeper. “It’s just been a while.” John is still stopped, searching your face for something. “I trust you, John. I need you to say it back or this won’t work.” His eyes don’t leave your face, nodding slowly. “I trust you with my life, baby. An’ I trust ya with yours. You gonna let me stretch you out?” Instead of answering, you start to grind slowly, fucking yourself on his fingers. His gaze drops down, watching your cunt squeeze him tight. 

“How’d I get so lucky, hm? Perfect wife, dropped right into my lap.” John makes you work for it, angling his thumb so your clit hits it with every grind. It’s the most work your body has done in months and you love it, love the burn in your muscles as you command them to work. “This is goin’ t’ be a lot shorter than I wanted it t’ be, pet. Can’t focus when y’r mewlin’ f’r my cock like this.” You whine at his words. John pulls his fingers out, a string of slick trailing after them. He rubs them against your chest, pointed nipples scraping against your own wetness. The friction makes you delirious and needy in his arms. “John, I need you.” He hums, that same hand pushing down his sweats to reveal his cock, thick and heavy in his hand. He gives it a pump and you watch him spread your slick around it, mixing with his precum to make it even smoother.

“Last chance, baby.” John lines his cock up with your cunt. He rubs it up and down, catching on your clit every other time. “Shut the fuck up and fuck me, John.” His name on your lips is punctuated with a gasp as he pushes into you. You let out a string of curses at the intrusion. No matter how many times John has given you his fingers, the blunt width of his cock is so much more. It’s been over a year since you’ve fucked someone, and it’s never been like this. It’s never been dark blue eyes filled with trust and care, flicking down every so often to watch his cock go in and out. It’s never been dangling over the precipice of an orgasm so fast, the speed of it hitting you like a lightning strike. He fucks you through it, his hand on the back of your neck, forcing you to look down at where you’re joined. You watch your tits and stomach bounce at his movements and you watch as he hungers for it.

John’s a talker. This you’ve known, but it’s never been like this. 

“Look at you, taking my cock so well. Fuckin’ made f’r it.”

“Y’r cunny’s so tight, baby. This all for me?”“So desperate for it, pet.”

“Such a good girl for daddy. C’mon, say it.”

It makes you clench and mewl and claw at his back. He tries to kiss you but all you can do is let your mouth fall open and pant against him. Your first orgasm left you weak-willed, eager to follow his instructions. You nod your assent to every word, sweat dripping into your eyes. The second orgasm builds slow in your core. It burns with every thrust, every brush of your clit that John’s thumb makes. You lean your head back so it hits the mirror, suddenly realizing that your actions echo each other in the mirror behind John.

Your mouth is open. Sweat makes your skin glisten. You settle your weight on your hands and arch your back, a glimpse of your tits visible in the glass. It means you look almost whorish but it doesn’t matter because it’s for your husband, whose muscled back ripples with every thrust. That’s the image that sends you over the edge, whining John’s name as you fall off the edge. 

“Where, baby?” John meets your eyes with a burning question. You look down at the creamy ring around his cock, the slight of it sending another hazy spark to your core. “Inside.” This time John’s the one cursing, dropping his forehead to your collarbone as he watches himself come inside his wife. Finally, with his soft cock still inside you, John slows to a stuttering stop.

“Oh fuck.” John looks up at your panicked words with a matching expression. “Somethin’ hurt?” Your mouth opens, then closes. “What? No. I just remembered I stopped taking my birth control because of what happened. I haven’t been on it in over a month. And Plan-B’s really mess up my cycle.” John laughs. Your husband laughs, with his forehead on your collarbone and his cock inside you, pushing his cum in further. “This is not funny, John!” He shakes his head before meeting your eyes. “I got a vasectomy.” You blink. “What do you mean, you got a vasectomy?” He drags a hand down his face. Instead of answering, John eases out of the tight hold of your cunt. He fishes for a washcloth somewhere near, running warm water over it before swiping at your inner thighs. “When we had tha’ conversation about Gaz. Didn’t want it to happen after tha’ an’ not be prepared.” You squint in confusion. “I timed it with your period.” You bark out a laugh of disbelief.

“You’re fucking crazy.” He looks up at you with worry etched into his face, like he’s done something wrong. All you do is smile and pull him in, kissing his nose like he’s adorable. “I hate you.” You say, laughing. “You love me.” He murmurs against your skin. You don’t refute it, shutting him up with a kiss.

-

Phil watches and waits.

Her husband keeps leaving her alone. Phil’s camera screens flicker, shots of her through windows and from the park. The brother is closing in but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s so close to completing his mission. He must watch and wait.

-

one. chapter. left.

i barely edited this so if you see any mistakes no you didn't

-

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[toysrguts]

Thanos (player 230) NSFW Alphabet

thank u guys for the love on my dae-ho post now i feel obligated to post my thanos ABCs cuz he literally consumes my brain like a parasite!!! also excuse poor grammar i threw this together in google docs in one night

18+ content below the cut!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

aftercare is not his strong suit but it's still oddly comforting. he’ll usually light up a joint for you 2 to smoke while laying together watching tv. he usually dozes off first while running his fingers through your hair even though he promises to stay up for you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

huge boobie lover no matter what size he just loves sucking on em and also has an infatuation with necks and grabbing them. he loves having his hand around your neck, he doesnt even have to be choking you he just loves how submissive and powerless you look under his grip (he does like choking tho ofc). as far as himself goes though idk he's kinda obsessed with himself so he doesn't usually think about just one body part but maybe his hands. or dick..

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves filling your throat with cum, when you're going down on him and hes about to finish he makes sure to hold your head down until you swallow every last drop and are left gasping for breath

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

secretly loves when you take control every now and then, sometimes being the boss is too much work. especially loves it when you take charge unexpectedly like straddling him or grabbing him by his necklace and pulling him in for a kiss

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

really cocky and for good reason, his body count is kind of insane and he definitely knows what hes doing. he hits all the right spots and when he hears you moan in pleasure he’ll only go harder and faster.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

kind of unexpected but LOVES when you're on top and making eye contact. he likes guiding your hips as you ride him and thrusting into you from underneath if he senses you getting tired. doggy style is a close second cuz he loves pulling your hair

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

its really hot how he can be primal but lighthearted at the same time. he's serious about the intimacy and making you feel good, but he's also really cocky and will smirk like an annoying slut while absolutely manhandling you cuz he knows what it does to you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i think he's gotten comments in the past so he started regularly shaving down there 💀 he's got just the right amount of hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he seems like the kind of guy who just wants to get in your pants and ditch but in the moment hes actually surprisingly gentle with you. if your hair gets in the way he’ll tuck it behind your ear, he'll place his hand under your head while viciously pounding you, he’ll ask if everything feels right for you before continuing. also makes a lot of close eye contact and whispers in your ear about how good you feel (if he's high however..... thats a whole different story he turns into an ANIMAL)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

usually doesnt need to jerk off but if nobody is there to help him out he's forced to rub one out on his own, and he definitely watches porn to help get the job done. i just know he looks so hot doing it too he throws his head back and bites his lip n shit. and he groans when he cums fs

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

hair pulling and pain. craves the feeling of your nails clawing at his back and gripping his hair while going at it. inflicting pain turns him on as well but would never do anything out of your comfort zone. but he does like seeing you marked up after a good time. also HEAVILY into choking like if you're spending the night with him you should just expect to get choked out. he also might've accidentally caused you to pass out a few times but that's neither here nor there!!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

lowkey an exhibitionist, he will fuck you any time he feels horny and he doesn't care who hears or sees. any location is his favorite but something about doing it in a public bathroom stall fuels him

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

it turns him on when you match his cocky and bold energy, like if he starts dirty talking and you say something even nastier he cant help but pop a stiffy. also likes when you get touchy with him all he can think about is getting alone with you so he can put his hands all over you

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

probably wouldnt like to be tied up, he prefers to be the one in control where that's concerned

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

so good with his tongue you'd think he has multiple. it drives him crazy when he can feel you grab his hair and writhe underneath him from all the pleasure. he will make you cum twice just from using his fingers before anything else even happens and it fuels his ego like crazy. also no surprise that he loves when you sit on his face and let him go to town

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he starts nice and slow to get you going but as soon as he hears you enjoying yourself he picks up the pace. but if he pops a pill first he will just fuck you as fast and rough as possible and can go all night long

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

probably wouldn't survive without a good quickie, he can touch himself all he wants but it's usually not enough for him. if he's horny he doesn't care where you are he’ll fuck you right then and there and act all nonchalant about it afterwards

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's down to try anything at least once even if he knows he probably wouldn't enjoy it. especially if you're enthusiastic about trying something new he will follow your every command

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

when he's high he can go for as many rounds as your heart desires. he can also last a good while, like 10-15 minutes every round, its especially satisfying to him when you have orgasms together

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he definitely has a toy collection but theyre only really needed on special occasion if things get repetitive. he always knows what he's doing and hits all the right spots using all his little techniques

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he can be such an asshole but he loves to see you beg for him to let you cum. when your breathing gets heavier and you grow louder that's when he slows down and teases you until you're begging and pleading to cum, and when you finally do he will praise the fuck out of you; “that's my good boy/girl.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

tries to stay quiet and collected but it usually ends up slipping out in a loud groan. other times he just doesnt gaf and will let out aggressive breathy growls in your ear

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

it's honestly a guilty pleasure for him when you use some teeth when sucking him off. something about the pain drives him crazy in a good way

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

hes not packing anything crazy or super intimidating, but it's definitely big enough to get the job done and done WELL. around 6.5 inches with a cute curve ^___^

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

REAALLYYY fucking horny like all the fucking time idk how he acts like such a gentlemen half the time. gets needy and sexually frustrated if he hasn't fucked in a while but when he finally does itll be the best you've ever had he’ll be so rough while also kissing you all over

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

acts like he's not affected or tired at all but he passes tf out so fast. he’ll talk you up and praise you for how good u were and run his hands through your hair and then conks out like 2 seconds later. usually doesn't end up cleaning up or showering immediately he just waits til he wakes up

[zexapher]

Stupid Cupid

Started this edit almost an entire year ago, right when RWBY Beyond dropped the boba episode. I immediately caught onto the idea of chibi Ruby being a little cherub to use for shipping characters. Of course, I immediately distracted myself with other creative projects and the Ship Wars 8 (which White Knight won in spectacular fashion btw) and life got in the way. But I came back around to it this past month. Perfect timing really, since it means I got it out for Valentine’s Day.

I just think it’s lovely how CRWBY have nurtured this ship subtly in the background, until they finally decided to get right up in our faces about it with Volume 9. That’s kind of what I wanted to portray here, with Cruby on a mission to make White Knight a reality, but Jaune and Weiss had already grown close without that final brazen intervention.

It’s really something special to start this meme essentially right as Rooster Teeth and RWBY closed down, only to come back and finish it with the news that Rooster Teeth was bought by Burnie and RWBY’s now moved on to VIZ. Both of them continuing on in their way. Kind of heartwarming to be honest, like a message of perseverance, keep on trying even if circumstances bring you down.

I can still see a few influences from my early work on the edit, was playing a little Republic Commando at the time, so we get Ruby’s comment about her skills with a bow confusing and frightening CRWBY. Speaking of, I think we can all see why I chose Cruby as Ruby’s cherub name. Perfect for someone tasked with building up White Knight. And, come on, the shipping rock is a perfect replacement for a bow. You may have noticed me sneak in the Golden Oreos or Rooster Teeth’s logo to celebrate the recent news (Jaune’s put a little sticker on the pummel of his sword).

With editing, I still run into trouble every now and then as I learn and familiarize myself with my software. Even now after a year of practicing it, and a decent chunk on gimp in particular. On this edit I ran into a weird issue with the color picker tool, where when I sampled a color, the brush would only apply a pastel or grayer version of that color. Wasn’t sure how I enabled that, if it was a glitch or I accidentally enabled some key shortcut or something. I worked my way around it though, in the most obtuse manner.

Pretty cool to be learning something new as I go through these edits. Like all the color correcting for my Vacuan Nights meme. Or even small quality of life things like how I decided to start making thicker outlines for the text about halfway through. That’s something that helps making the words pop, the outlines were a bit too thin before. And at the end I can really pump out some of the more complicated edits that used to take me a long time a year ago.

Redrawing Jaune for panel 9 was a ton of tedious busywork. The screenshot I pulled that from had bad lighting from the portal behind Jaune, so I needed to fill in colors for proper lighting. I think it came out pretty spectacularly.

And I just really like the premise for this meme. CRWBY helping push White Knight along, but the relationship was already well on its way in the background. That little bag of ‘cupid’ rocks just seems really cute to me, too. Fun, cheap little drawing.

Chibi Ruby is cute as can be; so happy they gave us this version of her in Beyond. Especially like that devious look I gave her. Yang looks great too, really enjoy Beyond’s style, and the exasperated palm to the face. And, of course, I loved writing and drawing up the cute interaction between Jaune and Weiss. She needs to see those shark pups! :)

Anyway, hope you all enjoy your Valentine’s Day, and this fun little meme I drew up.

[twopoppies]

About the fight with Zayn, I do think it was something real that affected all the boys, but especially Louis. What bothered me the most at the time was that from Zayn’s side, the narrative pushed was that harry’s ambitions for a solo career caused 1D to break up, and Zayn mentioned he was never close to Harry. This wasn’t denied on Harry's side, likely because it helped his solo career. Still, some fans hold this against Harry, ignoring the fact that even Liam implied in several interviews that for things to be resolved between them, Zayn would have to acknowledge his mistakes, which seemed unlikely. Louis also addressed this. I don't hate Zayn or anything, just annoyed with how he handled things when he left 1D, suggesting that Harry was to blame.

I do think harry suggested the hiatus but not only because he wanted a solo career (probably the Azoffs also advised him), but because he realised that the five of them were struggling both physically and mentally.

Anyway, I’m really glad they've made amends. I just wish Liam could have witnessed it too.

Hi, love I don’t actually recall Zayn blaming Harry or Liam saying those things, but I think it’s pretty clear from what Zayn has said recently, and what Harry has said in the past, that it was Harry who proposed not re-signing their contracts with Syco. Zayn was very unhappy and unwell, but he was also ambitious and wanted to get a jump on Harry and release his music first, so he split.

In his interview with Call Her Daddy Zayn spoke about leaving and said:

"There was a lot of politics going on. Certain people were doing certain things, certain people didn't wanna sign contracts, so I knew something was happening. So I just got ahead of the curve, if I'm being honest with you. I was like, 'I'm just gonna get out of here, I think this is done.'

Completely selfishly, I wanted to be the first person to go and make my own record. If I'm being completely honest with you, I was like, 'I'm gonna jump the gun here for the first time.' I'm a passive dude, but when it comes to my music and my business I'm serious about it and I'm competitive, so I wanted to be the first to go and do my own thing."

In 2017 Harry discussed the hiatus in Rolling Stone:

It was in a London studio in late 2014 that Styles first brought up the idea of One Direction taking a break. “I didn’t want to exhaust our fan base,” he explains. “If you’re shortsighted, you can think, ‘Let’s just keep touring,’ but we all thought too much of the group than to let that happen. You realize you’re exhausted and you don’t want to drain people’s belief in you.”

After much discussion, the band mutually agreed to a hiatus, which was announced in August 2015 (Zayn Malik had abruptly left One D several months earlier).

Full article here

So, it’s really clear to me that yes, Harry wanted a solo career at that point, but he also could see the writing on the wall for the band.

They would need to sign another contract with Syco in 2015, probably for yet another three albums. Not only were their tours not selling out anymore, but their albums and singles weren’t doing as well as they once did, and there was no way they would survive another three tours and another three albums in another three years. It would have been madness to keep going at that pace.

And if Zayn was aware of it (as evidenced by his comment about certain people not wanting to sign contracts etc) they all were aware of it (unless the other three were blind to what was happening right in front of their faces). This idea that Harry ambushed them suddenly and that Louis, in particular, had no idea it was coming, is complete nonsense.

I think there were a lot of things going on, most of which we have no idea about, and they all needed a break. But there were probably a lot of things said and done that hurt people and it took a long time for them to be mature enough to talk about it all.

I don’t blame Zayn (or Harry) for breaking up the band. It was clearly time. I’m just sad that it ended in a way that was so emotionally difficult for them. But it does seem that Louis and Zayn have begun to mend their relationship. And yeah, I wish Liam was here to witness it.

[bratbarzal]

you said i could send multiple requests and you wouldn’t block me

could you do roommate (or neighbour) nico with ³⁾ “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.”

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

“i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.” with neighbour!nico!!!!! bc of course neighbour nico joins your boozy galentines, wears pink fluffy cowboy hats and sings horrific karaoke duets with you. why wouldn't he? not to toot my own horn (again) but beep beep this is a dream that I have had since lunch and I am not giving up on it now.

“I’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything I need to know about how your date went.”

You're locking up your apartment when Nico emerges from the elevator down the hall, shoulders slumped and face downcast as he trudges over to his door.

You'd seen him when you got home from work, earlier - dressed in a dinner jacket, hair all styled, shirt tucked neat - and he had told you he had a date. On Valentines Day.

And yeah, your heart had pretty much plummeted to the very core of the earth, but at the very least, you got to see him looking so good - a vision to store in your memory bank for a rainy day, when you're thinking too hard about how close he is, just across the hall, but so far away, only being your neighbour, and all.

And that was only an hour ago. Just enough time to get ready, yourself. Hair curled all nice, makeup done - the sexiest outfit you could possibly throw together, because it's girls night, and you deserve to feel your best.

A good date doesn't last an hour. Doesn't end up with a guy slumping home, hair all mussed from running his hands through it, jacket slung over his arm and his heart crushed into pieces.

"Got stood up," he huffs, reaching into his pocket for his keys, "Said she didn't realise I was a hockey player, and didn't think I had the brain cells to hold a serious, thoughtful conversation for a few hours."

"Ouch," you frown, feeling anger more than pity - because, wow, what a bitch!

"You look nice, though," he throws out the compliment almost as an aside, but you can tell by the way his eyes linger that he means it - fixated on the spot where your skirt ends and meets bare thigh. You're probably gonna freeze, but you're going to get some great pictures for your Hinge profile, so does it really matter? "Didn't realise you had plans."

"Going out with the girls," you tell him, "Galentines, 'cause we're all single this year."

He nods, his gaze trailing back up your body until your eyes meet, torturously slow, only enhanced by the darkened colour of his irises. "Have a good night."

"You should come," you tell him without thinking better of it - hypnotised by the low, sexy tone of his voice. It goes straight through you - almost takes control of you like a puppet on a string.

"I'm not a gal," he frowns, although he makes no move to go into his apartment.

"You're single, though," you shrug, "I don't think they'll be too fussy on the criteria once we get a few drinks in."

"Are you sure your friends won't mind?" he asks, eyebrow wiggling and head tilting in the adorable way it so often does.

You press your lips together as if you're rethinking it, casting your eyes slowly down his figure - broad shoulders, big arms practically bulging through his shirt, slacks clinging to his thick thighs for dear life. Your friends will have the time of their lives with this.

"Considering a night out only won the vote for what to do by fine margins, I think they'll be okay with it." You smile, knowingly, nodding toward the elevator, "C'mon, we don't want to be late."

"I don't get what that means, what came second?"

"Magic Mike." You smirk as you walk backwards, reaching to press the button and laughing when his jaw drops. "You take your shirt off later and we'll be golden."

The poor guy has no idea what he's in for.

--

Your girlfriends don't mind when you and Nico meet them at the bar, not once you've introduced him - his name not ringing a bell until you mention he's from the apartment next door, and you see the flash of recognition wash through them almost like cascading dominoes, knocking each other over one by one.

They don't know him as Nico, he's much more fondly referred to in your group chat as sexy neighbour, after all.

You've only been telling them about him for the past 18 months you've lived across the hall - regaling them with stories of bulging muscles carrying grocery bags for you, compression shirts sticking to him when he comes back from the gym, and the one time the fire alarm went off in summer, and he hadn't thought to put a shirt on when you met out the back of the building.

Yeah, sexy neighbour is pretty much a celebrity in your friend group.

They welcome him with open arms, and the night evolves, as they so often do in your friend group, in highly chaotic fashion.

It starts with a round of shots, because of course it does. The bar is rowdy, the music loud, and those tiny little glasses of you-don't-even-want-to-know-what loosen lips all around. Nico picks up on the dynamic of your group pretty quickly, shifting the shyness he had walked into the establishment with and charming them all with that same dimpled smile he got you hooked on the day you met.

Shots turn into drinking games - chugging cocktails, taking on dares, spilling secrets, and you learn so much about Nico that you would never have known otherwise, so much that you would never have had the guts to ask.

Drinking turns to dancing, which starts in a crowd on the floor, bodies all smushed together, and ends up on tables, Nico by your side the whole time, hooking an arm around your waist so that you don't fall.

You end up bar-hopping to an extent, the second place you go being a little quieter, and you're all way too drunk to stay, so you end up at the karaoke joint further down the street.

Your friends all pick the girls night classics, Man I Feel Like A Woman, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun and there's even a full dance intermission for three of your friends to perform Single Ladies.

You all end up adorning fluffy pink cowgirl hats from god knows where, fluffy feather boas slung from your shoulders, and Nico is suddenly grabbing your hand, dragging you on stage, and handing you a mic before you're fully aware what's going on.

But by then you're too drunk to care, belting What Makes You Beautiful at the top of your lungs with him, still conscious enough to blush when he directs the lyrics towards you - as out of key and awful as they may sound.

And you don't know what happens between that and ending up at the club, bass thumping in your ears, blood pumping, skin sweating, and your back is pressed against his chest. You can still see flashes of feathers in your peripheral, your friends close by, but you can't really focus on anything else.

Anything other than the heat of Mr Sexy Neighbour, himself, flush against you, one of his hands holding yours to keep you steady, the other in the dip of your waist, and his breath warm on your bare neck. You lean into him more than you probably should - more than the sober you of tomorrow will be comfortable with, when you're bumping into him again and unable to look into those pretty eyes - and he leans in right back, nose at the junction where your jaw and ear meets, lips flush against your skin, where you hear him mutter, "I should get you home."

You nod, because what are you supposed to do, speak? With him looking at you like that?

Fat chance of that happening.

And he takes your hand in a firm, clammy grip, doing the rounds between those friends that still remain - the ones he hasn't had a chance to personally see off into a cab - telling them to text him if they need help getting home, and to text you when they eventually make it there.

He guides you practically the whole way home - helps bundle you into the back of a cab, buckling you in for safety and sitting in the middle, where you can lean on him with a heavy head, and your hand in his the whole way.

He throws an arm around you to help you stumble your way through the lobby of your apartment building, holding you up in the elevator and pressing the button for your shared floor. And then he props you up beside your front door, taking your keys from your purse and unlocking the door for you as you watch him with a tired but focused gaze.

God, you want him.

Is the world really so cruel that he would never want you back?

When he finally tries the right key and pushes the door open, he looks over at you, a heated gaze assessing if you're fit enough to send in on your own, and you imagine it's the way you blink slowly at him that tells him you're not.

You were just admiring him, really - your buzz wearing off, and the stumbles added for dramatic effect so that he wouldn't stop touching you - but he doesn't need to know that.

He makes a come here motion with grabby hands, and you practically launch yourself back into his arms, him accepting you with an amused smile as he walks you into your apartment, throwing your purse onto your counter and leaving your keys on the side.

You tug a little to steer him down the hall - in the direction of your bedroom, because if he's gonna play white knight, he may as well go the whole way.

"I had fun tonight," you tell him once he's dropped you off onto the safety of your bed, the bouncing motion only making you slightly dizzy again as you watch him stand before you, hands on his hips. "I don't want to say I'm glad you got stood up, but-,"

"I had fun, too." He tells you, dark eyes landing straight on yours as he slowly lowers, dropping to his knees in front of you and reaching for your leg. He starts unzipping your boots for you, and you watch him with what you can only assume are hearts in your eyes, a slow, dreamy sigh wracking through you.

"Wish I got to see you with your shirt off."

He laughs, in a way that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners and his shoulders shake - genuine amusement flooding through him as he looks back up at you, the angle straight up sinful and sobering.

He holds your other leg behind the knee, large hand warm against your bare skin, and slides your other boot teasingly slow - your gazes locked for the whole manoeuvre - his hand following down your leg until he discards both boots to the side.

He stays down there, kneeling in front of you, staring up at you with the prettiest eyes you've ever seen - a flush to his cheeks and a million thoughts racing through his brain.

You lean forward before you can think, and he meets you half-way in a kiss that's slow - sensual and pressured, firm and assuring - the taste of tequila on his tongue as it swipes against yours, which no doubt tastes the same.

He's the first to pull back, but it isn't all the way - just until your lips smack apart, his nose still pressed to yours as he avoids your chasing with a big grin.

"You're drunk."

"Don't care, wanna kiss you." You just about manage to catch him before he pulls back again.

"Not like this."

And then the touch of him is gone, the bump of his nose and the press of his forehead to yours disappearing in a way that makes you pout.

The way he kisses you again is quick - too quick to react, really - before he retreats again.

"You know where to knock when you're sober."

You let out a groan as you watch him leave, unashamedly watching his ass as he goes, eyes still lingering when he stops at your door and catches you with a knowing smirk.

"Happy Valentines Day, sexy neighbour."

[pineflowerart]

Hyssop, my DND Character, in many different styles! Thank you to everyone for letting me steal your style or requesting one!

(Reuploadind due to a layer error)

---

The styles:

- @actingwithportals

- @hiddenfaithy

- @harusomiarts

- (game) Genshin Impact

- (twitter) @ BluePrinnts

- (game) Ace Attorney

- @cosmos-collector

- @sciencewife

- (game) Disco Elysium

- @portalsandart

[loves2spwge]

they just want to be one...

commissions @jolyonvane did for me where i asked if he could please please please make stan look as desperate and exhausted as he usually does but is being kept together by all his love for his sbf kyle

[temptear]

Finally finished the stobotnik Disco Elysium style portraits, and I even made a little video with them 😌

I used this website to do it: https://speech-cabinet.com/

(though I did have to edit the portraits on top on my own- it doesn't support custom portraits yet)

Below is an alt version of Robotniks portrait, and my notes for the drawings if ur into that sorta thing

[siphoklansan]

Based on one of his voice lines smh boutta smack him right back up his mother’s womb (affectionate)

[cthulhu-with-a-fez]

other people have probably already said this but like. it's been a shockingly nice experience to watch the dungeon meshi fandom go absolutely NUTS over falin. just this unbelievable wellspring of thirsty romantic eye for her, and not only is she chubby in canon, most of the fanart i've seen has skewed towards drawing her even chubbier? i... genuinely do not think i've ever seen that before. i don't think i've ever been in an anime fandom where someone both looks like me and is the subject of such enthusiastic adoration BECAUSE she's fat before.

it's... it's really nice.

[oflgtfol]

quick like 3 hour thing to sate my desire to see Narinder But As A Bishop. i tried to emulate the game style as much as possible, and i used shamura and heket as the primary references for the robe design

[sysig]

Stop being so pretty already, gosh (Patreon)

[leori-the-unlearned]

rereading IDW sonic is giving me a better picture of just how skewed tangle’s recent characterization is :(

i know continuity marches on and all but man. tangle is the only one getting THIS bent out of shape all the time and it sucks. she’s the everyman (she really shouldn’t be) and keeps getting mistaken for a different character trope by each new arc’s writers

[longagoitwastuesday]

Going through the Utahim.e tag had me checking several times if at some point I had clicked on the G.ojo/Utahim.e one instead