#cause some of the older ones have art that's sort of... not good and then you get GORGEOUS art and ti's wasted

[rebelfell]

made for lovin’ you

older!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

A bad Tinder date gets a whole lot better…

18+ MDNI┃9k

cw: age difference (30s/40s), alcohol, smoking, light choking, softdom!Eddie, face fucking, light hair pulling, fingering, piv sex, finishing inside, and aftercare ‘cos we deserve it ♥️

I’ve been in a Mood and now you all have to suffer.

eddie edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

Holy shit, was this guy boring.

Not terribly surprising, unfortunately. Your expectations weren’t all that high to begin with. Most of your recent forays into online dating had been yielding overwhelmingly middling results and this one was no exception.

He had seemed perfectly nice on the app, when he was nothing but a handful of generic pictures and a smattering of inoffensive text bubbles. But any appeal he held had been in steady decline the moment he took his seat next to you at the bar.

He looked more scared of you than anything—fumbling his words and constantly having to push up his glasses as they slid down the bridge of his sweaty nose. You did what you could to help him relax, coaxing him into the conversation, asking all of those tedious first date questions.

And every single one, he answered with nothing but curt, clipped responses. Making no attempt whatsoever to follow up or ask you literally one single thing about yourself.

Then you made the fatal mistake of asking about work, and suddenly longed for the wall of silence. As soon as he got the chance, he launched into a long and droning explanation of his research on the behavior of crickets.

Acheta Domesticus, not that you asked. And he didn’t so much as smirk at your gesundheit joke.

You might have called it quits entirely by now…if it wasn’t for the guy at the end of the bar.

He had arrived not fifteen minutes after your date did, and slid smoothly onto a stool directly in your eyeline. Which was good, considering you would have snapped your neck trying to get a look at him otherwise.

In a word, he was beautiful. 

Slightly older, with long dark hair that was wavy and ruffled. A short and scruffy beard that only further accentuated the hard line of his jaw where it met the thick, muscular column of his neck.

He was quite literally littered with accessories—a silver hoop that glinted in his nose, leather cuff and chains on his wrists, chunky rings on his fingers that rapped rhythmically on the bar.

Then there were the more permanent accessories in the form of black ink tattoos that covered both his arms and scrawled upwards to peek out from underneath the collar of his t-shirt. A mix of all different styles and designs, ranging in quality from the kitchen scratcher bats on his elbow to the larger and more artful pieces clearly woven in later to complete the tapestry.

You’d certainly never seen him here before, and that was sort of a feat for this place.

West End was one of your favorite places for this sort of date. It was close enough to your place to be convenient, yet far enough that there was no chance of a guy trying to invite himself over to “use the bathroom” or “wait for an Uber” or whatever other excuses they dredged up.

It was actually two businesses in one, sharing the same name, running out of opposite sides of the same building. Causing only mild confusion.

To one side was a wine bar with cozy seating nooks furnished with plush loveseats, sofas and overstuffed armchairs, all a mishmash of vintage styles from thrift shops and flea markets.

But the other side was all modern and industrial—a billiards hall with high ceilings, exposed brick walls, and a large, glossy horseshoe bar that surveyed the tables from the center.

You tended to frequent the wine bar with your roommate Robin whenever you found yourselves in need of a moody atmosphere and some low, soft lighting, your evening scored by the crackle of some great vinyl record. But the other side was better for dates because it automatically gave you the out of an activity in case you found the conversation lacking.

And boy was it lacking tonight.

He regarded the pool tables more like they were live alligators and quickly dismissed your offer to play before launching right back into his overly-detailed explanation of the differences in the eating habits of crickets and grasshoppers. You sighed, no longer attempting to disguise your boredom as you propped your elbow on the bar and rested your chin on your hand.

It wasn’t just that his research was boring—though it was. Really, the problem was all of his technical explanations were so dry and devoid of any emotion that it made you wonder if he even enjoyed it. You had more stimulating interactions with the bartender, for crying out loud.

He was new to you too, but he moved behind the bar with such ease it seemed like he’d worked there for years. He’d introduced himself as Steve, a row of pearly white teeth winking at you as he flashed a smile you were sure had won him his fair share of superlatives in high-school. 

His look read more upscale mixologist, sporting a dark gray vest over a crisp white button down. Sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms that flexed with the pour of every drink, and the collar left open to reveal the glint of a gold chain resting on the soft down of his plentiful chest hair.

The hair on his head was shorter and lighter than the other man’s, but it was long enough to curl slightly around his ears and along the nape of his neck. The ends of it were kissed with caramel highlights that shone in the light when he flipped his head back or ran his large hands through the feathered locks whenever a piece fell forward into his bright hazel eyes.

Most importantly, he also seemed to be friends with your current fixation.

They had greeted each other jovially, hands meeting in a tight clasp over the bar before Steve grabbed a bottle of whiskey and started to pour without the other man even having to order. You watched with morbid fascination as those plush lips wrapped around the rim of his glass and his eyes fluttered closed as he took his first sip, the tattoo on his neck bobbing with the swallow. 

Jesus Christ on a cracker…

Suddenly, as though he could sense you watching, his eyes popped open and immediately locked on yours. You started at the sight of the deep brown, almost black, vortexes in the middle of his face, nearly choking on the sip you were taking of your own drink—an excellent Malbec Steve had recommended when you first arrived.

A rush of warmth exploded on your face and you looked away, doing your best to pretend like he hadn’t just caught you blatantly staring at him.

Or that you hadn’t felt that egregious burst of excitement when he did. Did he care that you were looking? Was he looking at you now?

Doesn’t matter, you reminded yourself, trying to return your attention to the man in front of you.

The one you had made an actual plan to come here and meet; the one who was…still talking.

The next bit of your date felt like it took an entire year. You mostly phoned it in, reluctant to admit defeat too quickly. But over and over again, you found your focus drifting either to the stranger at the end of the bar, or to the bartender. And often, those two went hand in hand.

Again, they were either very old friends or both of them were extremely friendly. They talked and joked back and forth in between Steve helping other customers, bouncing from end to end of the bar with ease, charming smile never faltering as he enchanted every person he served.

As for the other man, you’d caught his eye enough times by now that there was no mistaking he was watching you. Though, you suppose that meant he knew you were staring at him as well…

At the end of your first glass of wine, you excused yourself from the bar—needing a break from this guy’s droning voice more than anything.

He nodded, finally taking a sip of his beer he’d barely made any progress on he’d been so entrenched in his recent soliloquy.

The bathrooms at West End were towards the back, down a long hall that obscured them from view of the rest of the bar. It gave the impression of being in an alleyway with black beadboard paneling that came a little over halfway up the wall and an eclectic gallery of pictures.

There were two bathrooms side by side, just single-room stalls adorned with brass apartment numbers rather than gendered signs, and you slipped into the one with no light coming out from underneath the door. And maybe you took a little longer than you probably needed, milking your break for all it was worth. Not stalling, just…taking care of some things.

Things like touching up your lip gloss that needed no touching up since you hadn’t said more than two words in the past half hour. Or like pulling up Tinder on your phone and setting your location to the absolute minimum distance. You know…just on the off-chance someone in the immediate vicinity happened to also have the dating app installed.

No such luck, you found.

A bit more deflated than you had any right to be, you tucked your phone back into your bag and rolled your eyes at yourself as you reached for the doorknob. You didn’t look up until you were almost at the end of the hall and when you did, you found brown eyes looking back at you.

He was headed for the bathroom as you were coming back and he caught you at the start of the long, narrow hallway leading to them. Your eyes met his as you approached and you paused, already anticipating that awkward shuffle of both of you trying to get out of the other’s way.

There was no awkwardness, though. 

Heat pooled low in your belly as he held your gaze, and rather than breezing right by when you came to a stop, he stopped as well and leaned against the wall to let you pass. He was close enough now that you could see his hair was streaked with slivers of silver and more grays tinged the edges of his beard, particularly under his ears behind the hinge of his jaw.

Your shoulder just barely brushed his chest as you passed, eye contact holding until you were looking back at him over your shoulder as you returned to the bar.

He stood there, watching until you’d rounded the corner and were out of sight before he moved. Pulse thrumming, you slid into your seat with his cologne still in your nose, tickling your brain.

By the end of your second glass of wine, you were more than ready to go. Frowning as you took your last sip, you gave Steve a regretful shake of your head when he asked if you wanted another.

And beside you, Dale just requested your checks as he pushed away his beer.

You didn’t bother with feeling annoyed he hadn’t offered to get even one of your drinks. To be fair, you had not been remotely good company as it was, and especially not once the guy at the far end of the bar decided to call it a night.

Your heart sank just a little as you watched him stand and pull on a creased and faded leather jacket. He then headed for the door, his eyes locking with yours one last time as he went.

Beside you, your date cleared his throat loudly to get your attention and your head jerked up as you realized Steve had placed your receipt in front of you to sign. If Dale—wait, was it Dale or Dave?—noticed your fixation, he was too polite (or too chicken) to mention anything about it.

Tabs closed and coats thrown back on, you followed Dale (Drew? Dirk?) outside. The wintry air cut through your tights and you hugged your coat a little tighter around you.

“So, which way are you headed?” you asked, rushing out the words before he could ask the same thing and float the idea of sharing a ride.

“Uptown?” he replied.

“Ahh, I’m the other way.”

A derisive snort made your head whip sideways and your eyes darted to the source, landing first on the glowing orange dot of a cigarette and then on the plush pink lips wrapped around the filter at the other end. The snide comment locked and loaded on your tongue abruptly stalled.

It was him.

He leaned against the brick facade, foot kicked up behind him, watching your whole interaction. It made your cheeks burn with indignation, but the hungry look in his dark eyes made your entire lower half throb. His lips curved like the blade of a knife into a smirk as he stubbed his cigarette out on the wall and dropped it in a planter filled with sand next to him. You stared at him, your mind sort of blank, and his eyes remained fixed on yours as he strode back inside the bar.

“Okay, well…I guess I’m gonna go,” Dale sighed, a little petulantly.

You brought your eyes back to him and plastered on your most professional smile, shaking his hand formally like this was the end of an interview for a job he was never gonna get.

“Sounds good,” you said. “Nice to meet you.”

He frowned as he turned away, but you felt relatively certain you’d navigated that fine.

Surely he hadn’t felt the date warranted any other sort of follow-up or lie about doing it again—you certainly hadn’t been on your A-game. And you shuddered to think that was his.

Once he’d gotten in his Uber, alone, and you had assured him the one you had yet to call was on its way, you tugged your phone out of your coat pocket and checked the time.

Right now, you had two choices. It was still early enough that Robin could probably come pick you up with minimal begging required.

Maybe you two could get fries and milkshakes and watch some garbage reality tv before falling asleep in a little cuddle pile on the couch.

It was the reasonable option.

The logical, safe choice.

But all your dates lately had been so painfully reasonable and logical and safe. There had been no horror stories to regale Robin with at Sunday brunch, nor any explosive sexual exploit the two of you could squeal and giggle over while curled up on your overstuffed sofa.

It was downright boring. And you were growing pretty weary of it.

You glanced down one more time at your phone, still thinking. Your thumb hovered over Robin’s contact info, needing only a single tap to dial, while your index rested on the lock button.

With a subtle flex of your hand, you clicked the screen off and headed back into the bar.

One more drink couldn’t hurt…right?

“Back so soon?”

Steve was already smiling smugly at you as you approached, his eyebrow cocked as you slid back into your original seat and returned his smile with one of your own.

“I decided I couldn’t live without another glass of that Malbec,” you sighed dreamily. 

He nodded, amusement still tugging at his lips as he uncorked the bottle you’d been steadily draining all night and took down a clean glass from one of the wire racks suspended overhead. You pulled your card from your bag and held it out for him to reopen your tab, but Steve waved it off as he placed down the newly filled glass in front of you and slid it smoothly across the bar.

“It’s taken care of, honey,” he said.

“Oh, really?” you chuckled. “By who?”

Steve smirked at your incredulous tone, his muscled forearms flexing as he leaned on them.

You leaned forward as well, crossing your arms under your chest, knowing how nicely it propped up your cleavage. It made the bartender’s eyes flash as he lowered his voice to a leading hum.

“The dirtbag at the end of the bar.”

He nodded his head backwards, making those caramel-kissed locks of his flop across his brow. Your gaze followed Steve’s nod, landing on the wild head of hair and all-consuming brown eyes you’d been distracted by all night. The “dirtbag” in question was staring straight back at you, the corner of his mouth curled as he raised his rocks glass of brown liquor and tipped it to you.

“Is he really a dirtbag?” you asked him, your eyes never dropping the stranger’s gaze.

“Nah,” Steve shook his head. “Just looks like one.”

“Good to know.” 

You hummed to yourself, feeling almost a little cocky as you brought your glass to your lips and took an excruciatingly slow sip. The eyes of the man across the bar watched you intently, a fire burning in them that ignited your very being.

As Steve moved on to another customer, you pulled your eyes from those of the handsome stranger and let them fall briefly to the empty stool beside you. It was about as bold as you were willing to be at the time, but it did the trick. He promptly swiveled in his seat to slide off it and you smirked to yourself as you looked down, pretending to be fascinated by the garnet liquid swirling in your glass as he came around the bar.

“That’s a great Malbec,” he said.

God, his voice.

It made your cheeks (among other things) tingle, smooth and smoky as the whiskey in his glass you could smell as he placed it down beside your wine. The scent of it mixed with his cologne that was dangerously close to becoming your new favorite aroma—something woodsy and heady with a tinge of lightness like a salty sea breeze.

“It is,” you agreed, brow arching as he took the seat beside you. “You’ve had it before?”

“Nah,” he smirked. “You made it look so good, I had Stevie give me a taste. I told him to put your next one on me.”

Both of your brows raised at that. “And how’d you know I was coming back?”

“I didn’t,” he said, taking a cheeky sip of his drink. “I just hoped.”

You felt a smile burgeoning on your lips and pulled your bottom one back with your teeth trying, unsuccessfully, to fight it. He watched it spreading, the tip of his tongue running over the edges of his teeth as he offered you his hand.

You slid your own into his, feeling the exquisite pressure of chunky silver rings pressing on your fingers as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you, Eddie,” you purred right back, offering him your name after a beat.

He repeated it once, all low and rumbly, taking his time with the sound of it in his mouth like it was a piece of chocolate melting on his tongue. Holding your hand a bit longer than necessary.

“So I’m assuming Desperate Dan out there wasn’t your boyfriend?” Eddie asked, chuckling into his next sip. The sound of it spiraled down your back, electrifying your spine.

“Nope,” you sighed heavily. “Just another drop in the Tinder bucket.”

Eddie’s dark eyes gleamed with something like mischief and he made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Well, if that’s the case, I sincerely apologize, sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled at him. “What for?”

His eyes flickered again, this time taking a long moment to do a sweep up and down your body. Landing on your knees in your tights, flitting back up to your face as she shook his head.

“If someone like you has had to resort to dating apps…we’ve clearly failed as a gender.”

You actually shivered at the words, forcing your shoulders still not to show it as you propped your elbow on the bar and swiped the tips of your nails across your chin and along your jaw to play with your earring. Deepening your voice to a sultry murmur he had to lean in close to hear.

“No argument there.”

You rushed into the bathroom, flapping both your hands back and forth to fan your face and then under your arms. Safely hidden behind the door, your air of detachment could fall away and you could finally let out all the patently un-cool reactions you had been fighting the last hour.

With trembling hands, you pulled your phone out of your bag and fired off a text to Robin.

hey, I’m gonna share my location with you the rest of the night.

wait WHAT? Losera Annoyingus is getting a bang pass?

no he left…

…about an hour ago.

A blue bubble with three blinking dots immediately popped up on the thread and you imagined Robin’s thumbs actually smoking she was typing so furiously fast. But she must decide to abandon her message, because within a split second, a picture of you and her with your faces smushed together came up on the screen as she called you instead.

“Hey,” you whispered, praying your voice didn’t echo too much off the tiled walls.

“Explain,” she demanded. “Now.”

The excitement in her voice only increases your own, your cheeks still impossibly hot as you stand over the sink and fan yourself some more before another layer of sweat can form on your face.

“It’s this guy I met at the bar. He was like, making eyes at me while I was on my date and we started talking after and I just—I don’t know for sure, but it feels like he’s gonna take me home.”

“Is he hot?”

“Yes,” you breathed out a heavy, lustful sigh. “He’s so hot I wanna rip his appendix out.”

“Holy shit,” Robin whistled. “What’s he look like?”

“He’s…I don’t know,” you laughed. “He kind of looks like a Harley that came to life.”

“Alright then, you better go ride him.”

Robin’s snorted laugh makes you cover your own face with your palm. It’s searing hot now, your blood pumping furiously beneath the surface of your skin.

“Well, I have to get back out there to make that happen.”

“Go, go, go—have fun, use protection! Wait, hang on, not in that order!”

You laughed at her warning coming through faintly over the receiver as you mashed the button to end your call. With one last steadying breath, you leaned on the sink and nodded decisively.

“Okay,” you exhaled. “Let’s do this.”

Sage and sea salt filled your nose as you yanked the door open and nearly ran straight into the source of the scent. Eddie leaned against the wall across from the bathroom doors, shoulders shifting subtly as he twisted one of the large rings on his fingers. 

You stood face to face now, hands hovering at your sides as you edged into the hallway.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, tucking his chin to his chest as he looked up at you from under long lashes. “Someone’s in the other one.”

You glanced suspiciously at the second bathroom door, seeing no light coming from underneath it. Eddie winced, still smirking adorably as you turned the knob and pushed it open to reveal it was empty on the other side. He chuckled, holding up his hands in a mock surrender.

“Fine,” he sighed. “You caught me.”

“Thought I was making a break for it?” you asked, pulling the door shut. Eddie’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek, his eyes roving over you slowly.

“I’d hate to think I scared you off,” he said as he kicked off the wall to stand up straight.

You crossed your arms under your chest, giving him a smile. “I don’t scare so easy.”

He nodded at that, his eyes still taking you in, scanning you like he was reading invisible stats. They lingered a few places you expected, like the curve of your hips and the swell of your chest. But then they landed on other things too, things you weren’t used to people noticing. 

Things like your shoulders, or your calves in your boots, even your fucking ears.

“So…everything alright?” he asked, his voice lowering as he took a step closer.

“Yeah, I was just letting my roommate know I might be gone a while.” You held up your phone and tucked it back inside your bag with another coy smile. He chuckled.

“A while, huh?” Step.

“Yeah, you know...it’s pretty late.” Step. “Might be tough to get an Uber.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie shrugged. “I live close.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were nose to nose now, barely a whisper of space between you, the air thick with the heat radiating off your bodies in the narrow space.

The well worn leather of his jacket sleeve creaked softly as his hand came up to rest on the wall, caging you in with his arm.

“How close?” you asked, breath shuddering as you leaned on the door for support.

“Up the street,” he sighed. “But it’s still too far.”

His warm breath ghosted over your lips as they parted, the smell of the liquor coating his tongue making you feel woozy. Or maybe that was just the effect he was having on you.

He was so close now you could hear the bristly sound his beard made as he scratched at it with blunt fingertips. He’d barely inhaled to ask if he could kiss you when you surged forward to press your lips to his—the roughness of his beard on your chin a welcome abrasion.

Scratching the itch that’s plagued you all night.

It’s a hungry, lawless sort of kiss. Quick and clashing and difficult to tell if it’s actually mean or not—like two dogs play-fighting, both trying to see how much they can get away with before light snarls and soft snaps of their jaws turn to whimpers and whines.

Eddie parried with you for control, his tongue darting in and out of your mouth as he plied you with teasing, playful kisses you fought to deepen, tugging at his shirt. He pushed off the wall and reached down to grab your wrists, pinning them over your head to keep them in place.

The thrill of him trying to restrain you only made you unravel further, straining impatiently against his grasp. Breathless, you stretched out your neck and pushed your face past all his hair to place your lips beside his ear and pant into it.

“Can we go back to—”

“You wanna come back to—”

The both of you chuckled and exhaled with relief as your words and his overlapped, and you felt a sudden rush between your legs from the way Eddie’s eyes blazed with intention.

He released his hold on your wrists and your arms fell limp at your sides. In an instant, he had your hand wrapped tightly in his and was pulling you along as he angled towards the exit.

As you hurried after him out of the hallway and across the bar, you distantly registered music playing, picking out the chugging guitar and bass riffs of some 80s dance song. From behind the bar, Steve caught Eddie’s eye and you saw him offer his friend a two finger salute as the two of you burst through the door, your departure narrated by Paul Stanley’s deep, silky croon.

And tonight, I want to lay at your feet. Cause girl, I was made for you, And girl, you were made for me…

Eddie wasn’t kidding about living close.

Your boots clacked on the sidewalk as he ushered you along under his arm, the quick pace of your walk driven both by the chill in the air and the desire to resume what you started at the bar.

“This is me,” he said, indicating a four-story brick building just a block away from West End.

His place was on the top floor. It was a large studio with high ceilings and many features similar to the bar you’d just left. Half of the space was raised like a platform with a steel wire railing running along the edge. He had his bed up there and what looked like an office, but he’d created a divider of sorts with cube shelves filled with sweats, hoodies and t-shirts.

Promptly, you recalled him telling you he owned a company that designed and distributed merch for independent artists, and how he was constantly receiving samples from suppliers.

The kitchen was simple, sleek cabinetry and stainless steel appliances without a single smudge. A massive butcher’s block with a wooden top and wire racks underneath serving as an island. And a steel rack hanging down from overhead laden with cast iron cookware.

You took a few more careful steps inside, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath from being kissed stupid in the elevator while Eddie flipped some switches that illuminated the space with recessed lighting. Large black-paned windows revealed a view of the city and the night sky outside, some amber light from the street filtering in and casting across the oak floors.

In his living area was a massive brown leather sectional with extra-deep cushions and a chaise at both ends. It faced a plain wall with a screen you assumed went with the projector hanging down from one of the exposed beams overhead.

Every inch of your skin crackled with excitement as he came up behind you and reached around to grip the lapels of your coat and help you out of it, letting his fingertips skim your bare arms as he did. It made you shiver in spite of the warm air you could feel pumping out of the vents.

He hung up your coat next to his on a hook by the front door and you turned to face him as he sauntered back over. His gait was relaxed and casual, like he had all the time in the world. 

Like he wasn’t driving you up the wall with every second you went without his mouth on yours.

“Did you want another drink?”

He gestured in the direction of a liquor cabinet, glass shelves lined with a modest array of wines and spirits, but you shook your head at the offer.

“Not particularly,” you said with a coy grin.

Reaching out and hooking a finger in his belt loop, you whirled yourself into him and slotted your mouth against his, licking into it to taste the smoky remnants of whisky there. He breathed into it deeply, his broad chest expanding with it and chuckling when he felt your hands on his belt.

“Easy there, tiger,” he teased, your lips breaking apart and taking hold of your wrists to still their efforts. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“Hopefully the kind that knows how to fuck.”

You smirked, the tip of your tongue flicking out between your teeth as your face veered in again. Your hips pressed with his and you began to sway back and forth, gently grinding them on him, resuming the dance you’d begun. His face came close, his hands settling on your waist.

“C’mon, honey,” he drawled. “Haven’t you heard good things come to those who wait?”

His lips trailed along the column of your neck, sending a riot of shivers down your spine causing you to release a breathy sigh.

“Sorry, what? All I heard was come.”

Eddie chuckled at that and his breath rushed across your neck as he smiled into your jugular.

“You’re funny,” he sighed. “We’ll see how funny you are when I get done with you.”

It was a miracle your knees didn’t buckle on the spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head, almost seeing the inside of your skull as his hand came up and he placed it around your throat.

“You want this?” he asked, his tone cool and precise, his eyes wandering across your face.

“Yes,” you gasped, all desperate and panting now you were so eager for him to start.

His thumb and middle finger pressed the sides of your throat, slowing the flow of blood just enough to make your head go fuzzy and your body to go just barely limp in his arms. 

“Yes, what?” he growled. You drew a shuddering breath, unrestricted by his expert hold.

“Yes, I want this,” you answered. “I want you.”

Eddie took his time undressing you, softly kissing the new expanse of skin he unveiled with the removal of each piece of clothing.

He nipped lightly at your collar bones as he shed your blouse, canines catching briefly on the chain around your neck. He dragged his lips torturously slow over your stomach as he undid your skirt and it fell to the floor with a soft plop. His breath rush across your thigh as he kneeled to drag down the zippers of your boots, kissing your inseam though your tights all the way down to your ankles.

Every second was a kind of exquisite torture. Your heart hammered behind your ribs, the bones almost rattling with the force of it. And as much as you were dying to grab him by the back of the head and take over, you let yourself slip steadily under the spell of his affections.

You believed what he seemed to be whispering with his eyes in between every indelible kiss he dropped to your buzzing skin. He had you. He would take care of you. You could trust him.

And once you were totally bare in front of him, he held out his hand for you to take and he spun you in a slow circle like a ballerina in a music box, his eyes feasting on every inch of you.

If it was anyone else, you might have shied away. You might have felt some level of shame or concern about being stark naked in front of him while he was still fully clothed. You might have worried he would see something he didn’t like, some flaw or defect you preferred hidden. But the look on his face was nothing short of rapturous.

He walked you over to the couch and kissed you deeply as he removed his clothes. Showing not an ounce of the kind of care and consideration for his own as he did for yours, he stripped them off hastily and discarded them, tossing them away like they were garbage.

Your naked bodies came together in a full press, his arms curling around your form and his hands stroking your skin like he was trying to make sure not a single part of it went untouched.

At last, he sank down onto the sofa and his knees spread apart, his hard cock standing stiff and ready for you. He took your hands in his like he was going to pull you forward onto his lap, but you dropped to your knees instead, tucking your feet under your ass.

You looked up at him expectantly, your eyes darting between his face and his cock, the corners of your mouth curling upwards in a smile as your brows raised with a silent question.

“You sure?” he asked, circling his base with his thumb and forefinger to give a gentle squeeze. “I can take care of you, you know? Fuckin’ love to.”

“Don’t worry,” you said cooly, lashes fluttering as you scooted closer. “You will.”

You placed your hands on his knees and pushed them further apart so you could lean forward to kiss up the inside of his leg. Trying to give him a taste of his own slow, teasing medicine, you worked your way all the way up to the crease of his thigh and turned your head inward.

Eddie’s breath stuttered as your lips met his shaft, poking your tongue out to run it up the length. His head tipped to the side, his ear touching his shoulder to get a better view of you licking at him, halting grunts and gasps tumbling past his lips as yours puckered to kiss it more.

When you were satisfied you’d gotten him sufficiently worked up, you reached out and wrapped your hands around him fully, your fists stacked and twisting gently.

You stroked him off slow and even, your hands squeezing tight around his shaft, mixing your spit and the beginning of his spend that leaked from his tip. He watched you reverently, eyes hooded as he enjoyed your show. And looking up at him, a gooey sort of warmth filled your entire body.

You felt yourself slipping further into that sort of headspace you craved—all pliant and willing, your knees digging into his plush area rug as your legs tingled with numbness.

Your heart raced as you imagined giving yourself up to him completely. 

Letting him take whatever he wanted from you.

As though he sensed it, as though he could read the desperation in your eyes, he cradled your jaw in his large hand and dotingly stroked the side of your face as he tilted his head at you.

“What is it, baby?” he cooed encouragingly. “What do you want? You can tell me.”

“Want you to use me,” you pleaded, fingers still sliding around him. “Use my mouth.”

Eddie gazed at you where you kneeled in front of him, your eyes having gone all big and round and glassy, shining with the tears you were dying for him to make spill down your cheeks.

Begging for it.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he sighed, gripping your chin and swooping in to kiss you deeply.

His firm hold gave you permission to go limp and you let your hands fall from his cock to rest on his muscled thighs, palms coasting over his tattoos and sparse leg hair. He pulled back, keeping your chin grasped in his fingers, holding your face still as he instructed you.

“You slap me three times in a row if you want to stop, okay?” he ordered in a husky rasp. “Do it for me now, so I know you can.”

You obeyed instantly, delivering three strikes to his thigh. His lips curled in a devilish grin. 

“That’s it, just like that,” he hummed in approval. “What a smart girl you are, huh?”

The praise rippled down your back, his words making you tingle all over, much like your calves that were starting to go numb from sitting back on them. He reached around the back of your neck, gently guiding you into position so his cock was pointed directly at your lips. 

His large hands nearly covered your entire head, holding it in his firm grasp, his fingertips digging into your scalp and causing even more shivers. Eyes locked with his, you let your mouth hang open and your tongue loll out fully, reaching almost all the way to your chin. 

Eddie moaned loudly, mesmerized by the pool of spit you’d let collect in your mouth and the way it dribbled past your lips, running down your tongue and dripping onto your chest.

“Fuuuuck,” he chuckled low and rough, touching just the tip of his dick to your wet tongue. “You really want me dead, huh?”

Your eyes danced as you nodded, the motion causing your tongue to brush against his sensitive slit and spread his precum across the flat of it. A sharp gasp punched from his chest, not ready for the sensation, and his whole body shuddered with need. His eyes blazed and his nostrils flared as he gripped tighter around the back of your head and thrust fully into your mouth.

Lewd sounds filled the room as he pushed his cock past your lips, your mouth flooded with spit that poured out of you and pooled in the wiry thatch of hair at the base of his cock. You felt your body going lax and floppy as you gave yourself over to him, letting him hold your head up as you melted into little more than a puddle.

“That’s it, baby. Just let go, let me take what I need,” he drawled in that smoky voice, beginning a gentle thrust of his hips that pushed him deeper still into your mouth. “You’re doing so well…”

The salty tang of him covered your tongue as your jaw slackened to accommodate more of him, the sounds you were making coming out garbled.

“Christ, you sound so fucking sweet choking on my cock” he groaned. “What a good slut you are, huh? Giving me this mouth, letting me ruin it?”

You gagged loudly as his cock pushed in further until his tip met the back of your throat. He held the back of your head and your nose was nuzzling against the hair at his base, breathing in his thick and heady musk. Far earthier than his cologne, this was a smell that could only be him.

His eyes flitted to your hand clutching at him, your nails digging into the meat of his thigh.

But you made no move to tap out. Another tight spasm of your throat had him throwing his head back, his eyes pinching shut and his lips falling open in a desperate gasp.

“Shit, that feels so good,” he whined softly, his domineering mask slipping ever so slightly—the broken sound only making you go more feral.

Bracing yourself on his thighs, you began to push your head down to meet his thrusts, fucking your own face with his cock so hard that his grip on the back of your head was extraneous.

“Okay, okay—okay,” he grunted, chest heaving as he pulled you off him before he could blow.

His fingers held fast in your hair, squeezing it at the roots. You drew in air in great heaving breaths, panting from the effort, your tongue still hanging out of your mouth and head bobbing as you tried to chase the cock he had to drag you off of.

“You’re a greedy fucking girl, aren’t you, baby?” he chuckled, yanking your head back sharply so you were staring at the ceiling, eyes straining to look at him over the curves of your cheeks.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped back, chest still heaving.

“You want my cum that bad?” he teased lowly, pushing his face against yours and smearing the wetness of your tears across your cheeks.

“Yes, please,” you whined pitifully. “I need it.”

“Oh, you’ll get it,” he assured you, reaching down with his free hand to rub between your legs. “But only if it goes in this needy little pussy.”

Your entire body writhed as his fingers toyed with your swollen clit and dripping folds, scalp stinging where he gripped your hair with his other hand.

A pleasurable wail burst out of you as his thick fingers thrust inside your warm, wet hole and started to scissor relentlessly.

“YES, fuck—come in me. Please, please…”

More tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you begged him, drip, drip, dripping off your chin and onto your heaving chest, rolling down your naked body, leaving wet trails in their wake.

Eddie had to fight the urge to lick your clavicle. 

He hauled you up onto his lap, scooting down so he could plant his feet properly on the floor. Your knees sank into the worn leather of his cushions on either side of his hips and you used all what little strength you had left to reach down and align yourself with him.

“Don’t you hold back—haah—alright?” he said, hissing softly as you sank down on his length. “I want that fucking loser from Tinder to be able to hear you from here. Understand?”

You nodded, hips beginning to slide back and forth, relishing the way his thick cock prodded at your insides and stoked your desire. Eddie let you keep control for a moment, his hands squeezing at the softness of your stomach, molding it with them. He watched you raptly, mesmerized by the undulations of your body, the way you let it writhe and rock and squirm on him until he thought you might come solely from your own movements.

A loud, exhilirated moan burst out of you as he suddenly thrust his hips upwards, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he slammed into your g-spot on the first fucking stroke—as if he could see straight through your flesh to aim for it.

The room filled with sounds even more lewd than before—the wet clap of his thighs with your ass cheeks, his balls slapping your soaking pussy, your mound squishing into his pelvis.

Eddie threw his head back, overwhelmed by the sight of every part of you bouncing so prettily on him. And as he exposed his neck, everything in the room went hazy except that thick, taught, muscled column. Sending you feeling.

You clawed at it desperately and drew hot, red streaks down it with your nails that trailed all the way to the middle of his tattooed chest.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned. “Mark me up. Show everybody who owns me—”

He slid his hands back to grip your ass, spreading the fleshy globes wide and stretching your holes further open as he continued to slam his length inside you. He let one side go and delivered a single stinging slap that reverberated throughout your whole body. 

The burn made you keen, arching your back until your chest was flush with his. He reached up to grip the back of your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth and raking them over it.

“Now that that mouth is free, I wanna hear how good you feel,” he growled.

And if you thought you were loud before, it was nothing compared to now. The combination of his words and the perfect pace being set by his cock sent you instantly toppling over the edge, with Eddie’s own release following right behind.

In that moment, you vowed to send a fruit basket to every single one of his neighbors—an apology for making them think that a woman was getting murdered in the middle of the night two or three stories above their heads. The orgasm he brings you to makes you scream, practically sobbing as you cry out in immeasurable relief while searing hot pleasure ravages your entire body. 

It’s an ascent you’ve never dreamed of reaching the peak of, the feeling spreading to the tips of every extremity, filling you with fire. It feels so good, it almost makes you sad to know you might never feel like this again. And if your brain hadn’t already turned to mush, you might have cared.

As you dwindled down from your high, you slumped forward limp and spent—your body still rippling with the effects, Eddie’s arms coming up to hold you against him as he peppered your shoulder with soft, sweet kisses.

“That’s it,” he breathed out in your ear. “That’s it, baby, just feel it…such a good girl f’me…”

He ran his fingers slowly up and down the column of your spine, creating waves of shivers waiting for your trembling to subside.

His length grew soft inside of you, but he made no move to slide you from his lap or to rush you in the slightest. He let you cling on to him, your face buried in his sweaty neck, his long hair tickling your face, losing yourself in his touch.

Slowly, your breathing grew deep and even, your racing heart slowing in your chest. Eddie turned his head and spoke to you quietly with his warm breath fanning across your cheek.

“You ready to move?” he asked.

You gave a weak nod.

Wobbling on unsteady legs, you stood and his hands quickly moved to the curve of your waist to keep you steady. He took you to the bathroom which looked more like it belonged in a spa than someone’s house, sitting you on the toilet.

From a hook hanging on the back of the door, he produced two bright white waffle weave robes, offering one to you. And as you wrapped the soft material around your shoulders, he turned on one of the faucets and held his fingers underneath it to test the temperature.

Once he’d deemed it warm enough, he took a fluffy washcloth from a little pyramid of them that were rolled up next to the sink basin. He held it under the stream, saturating the cloth and then giving it a gentle twist. You watched his hands every step of the way, mesmerized by the way his veins bulged under his skin and the muscles in his arms flexed as he wrung out the excess water.

He rubbed the warm cloth gently across your face, wiping off the residue of tears and spit and cum and what little was left of your make-up until your bare face shone in the soft lighting. 

Once he had finished, he dropped the cloth into a hamper and cradled your face in his hands, his thumbs gliding easily over your slippery skin.

“So pretty,” he hummed, the words so soft you wondered if you were even meant to hear them.

From one of the drawers in the vanity, he brought out a pot of moisturizer and offered it to you with a smile. You frowned up at him, jutting out your bottom lip in a comical pout, not ready for him to stop taking care of you. It made him chuckle and a bemused smile spread across his lips as he tapped the tips of his fingers in the gel and started to smooth it over your cheeks.

“Come lay down with me?” he asked when he’d finished, head tilting back in the direction of the short set of stairs leading up to where his bed sat.

You nodded and he held out his hand to lead you out of the bathroom. You curled up on top of his dark duvet, your head sinking into the softness of his down pillow that held the faint scent of what you guessed was his tea tree oil shampoo.

The thick mattress dipped as he climbed onto it with you and draped a beige knit blanket over the both of you before he sidled up against your body.

It was…nice. More than nice. Shit, it was as close to perfect as you had felt in a long time.

The feel of his chest expanding and contracting against your back; his steady breath on the nape of your neck; the soft robe wrapped around your body and the comforting weight of the blanket on top of you. Not to mention Eddie’s arm curled securely around your waist. 

Your eyes felt heavy, like your eyelashes suddenly weighed a thousand pounds, and you drifted fully into sleep, succumbing to the relief that had washed over you not twenty feet away.

When you woke, it was still dark out. 

The street noise had lessened significantly and if you had to hazard a guess, it might have been close to one or two in the morning. Eddie’s place was darkened, lit only by orange street light that filtered through his windows and a half-dimmed reading light in the corner.

It was an arc lamp, suspended over a leather Eames chair where you could see that your coat and all of your previously discarded clothes were arranged in a neat little pile. But laid out at the foot of the bed right next to your feet were a pair of black fleece pants and hoodie, both about your size and emblazoned with the names of bands you didn’t recognize.

You sat up slowly, fingers hovering over the thick material as you debated. Were they for you? They looked a little big for Eddie, but maybe he had laid them out for himself? Was it a sign he was about to go to bed and you needed to get moving?

In the end, you slid out from underneath the blanket still draped over you and redressed in your clothes. After pulling your tights and skirt back on, stepping into your boots and zipping them up your calves, pulling your coat back on, you looked around the loft searching for Eddie.

From up here, you could see the bathroom door was open and the light was off…eliminating the only place he could actually be. And then your eyes fell on one of the windows that was cracked open with a short step-ladder built into the wall that had been pulled down in front of it.

You pulled your coat around you tighter the closer you got to the window and tentatively climbed the steps leading up to it. You pushed the large glass pane the rest of the way open and poked your head outside to find Eddie sitting on his terrace, resting with his back to the brick, head tipped back as he exhaled a cloud of smoke from his lips that drifted up towards the stars.

“Hey,” you said softly. His head turned at the sound and a wide smile spread across his lips.

“There she is,” he said in a gentle cheer.

You climbed through the window and a breeze carried the scent of the joint he was holding. You took a seat across from him, leaning back against the metal railing and letting your legs stretch out alongside his. He dropped his hand to rub your calf and he frowned at the realization you had redressed in your tights and boots. His brow furrowed adorably.

“Something wrong?” you asked.

He shook his head and took another drag of the joint before passing it into your waiting fingers.

“The clothes were for you,” he said. “Y’know, if you wanted something to sleep in.”

You paused, the joint just shy of touching your lips. “Like…if I was staying?”

“Would you stay?” he asked, a ribbon of smoke curling in the air as he exhaled.

Your mouth hung open, clouds of your hot breath escaping. “Oh, um…I mean, only if you—”

He cut you off with his lips, slipping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a long kiss. Tiny embers scattered from the joint, being taken by the wind that blew and made the ends of Eddie’s long hair tickle the sides of your face. You pulled apart and he answered solidly.

“I want you to,” he said.

wasn't expecting this to be so long (that's what she said), but I hoped you liked it if you made it this far 🩷 love you, mean it!

[ozzgin]

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.

In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

[tarjapearce]

What caused Gabriel and Miguel to fight in the Soccer Family AU?

Oh nonny 🫠.

Older Brother

Warnings: Angst, sibling relationships, emotional distress. Hurt.

Summary: Good intentions aren't always welcomed.

Art by: @justanunknownartist on X

'It's only a party, Miguel. Relax.'

That's what Gabriel had said.

'I won't drink too much.' he said but was unable to keep his end of the silent agreement between them, as Miguel helped him to his bedroom.

Someone had contacted him after Gabriel tried to start a fistfight with a random attendee just because the latter took the last shot of tequila.

"Migue" Gabriel hiccuped and stumbled on his steps, giggling as Miguel hauled him on his feet back again, but Gabriel was proving himself difficult cause he was trying to get a hold of his face.

"Gabri-" He pushed his brother's hand away and this tried harder to take a hold once again

"Compórtate, verga!" (Fucking behave)

Gabriel giggled to himself and supported his weight on Miguel's shoulders, only to be thrown later at his bed with such ease it made him even more dizzy for a second. The youngest of the O'Hara didn't think it twice and curled in his bed.

"Miguel"

Gabriel called and tried to fix his drunk gaze in him, unable to decide on which of the Miguels with him he'd talk.  He went for the one that untied his shoes laces and tucked him in.

"Don't tell..." Another drunk hiccup, "Don't tell mom, ok?"

"Ya duérmete, cabrón." Miguel grumbled, more annoyed than anything. He was on his way of meeting you for your weekly corny movie night when a friend of Gabriel contacted him.

Several apologies and Te Quiero later, he drove back to fetch his dear brother that definitely would have an earful of his mind once he was sober enough to understand how bad his alcoholism was getting.

Although Miguel drank, he didn't do it as often as Gabriel did. Partying every weekend, sometimes in between working days and that had earned him a memo back at work.

It was rare and out of his character to get wasted. But Gabriel concerned him.

His red eyes regarded his brother once more, trying to figure what was going on. But communication wasn't a trait born within the O'Hara men. At least not in a proper or healthy way.

Was it a woman that had hurt him again? Probably. Although Gabriel's social butterfly skills was something he sometimes wished to have, Miguel knew it was a double edged weapon. It had granted Gabri a magnet to attract all sorts of people and not all of them were good, like their intentions.

But all Miguel could do at the moment was bringing him a tall glass of water, some painkillers and let him rest.

---

Gabriel's head throbbed. Every breath he inhaled came in synch with the neverending pounding in his head at the minimal movement, but gathered up the courage to sit on the bed to drink the pills and water.

The smell of food wafted past his bedroom's door, tickling his nose, luring him out of the bed. A sudden rush of nauseas flooded his throat and he ran towards the bathroom to soothe his discomfort.

The toilet flushed and he rinsed his mouth to then wash it. Miguel was preparing breakfast, so Gabriel washed his face, trying to give himself a less daunting and hungover look.

Although the smell made his mouth water, his stomach warned him to not eat anything. But coffee, he could do that.

Gabriel inhaled sharply when advancing towards the shelf past Miguel's swallowing frame. He took a mug and poured some of the coffee in it. Sugarless, of course.

The relief would've been almost immediate if Miguel hadn't clinked loudly a spoon on his cup. Gabriel's teeth clenched at the sudden noise.

"C'mon. Was that necessary?"

Miguel chuckled, but it quickly vanished as a frown made it's way on his face.

"Gabriel"

Miguel called but his baby brother groaned annoyed, "Not now, Migue. Please."

"Then when, cabrón?!" Miguel roared and Gabriel tightened his grip on his mug, unable to meet him directly in his eyes.

He had fucked up, that much was true.

"¡Es la tercera puta vez que uno de tus amigos me llama para que te vaya a recoger porque te pusiste hasta el culo de borracho y quieres andar de pendejo madreándote a la gente! ¿Qué verga te pasa?" (it's the third fucking time one of your friends call me cause you've gotten wasted and you wanna fuck around and fight people. The fuck's wrong with you?)

And for Miguel to go full on spanish on him, meant he was sick of it.

"Ya, ya te oí. Cállate. No lo volveré a hacer." (Alright, alright. I heard you. Shut up. Won't do it again.)

"Bullshit. You think I don't know about the memos? About the fucking warnings you get at your work cause you go and present yourself hungover."

"It was one fucking time! One!"

"Still enough for you to start losing your credibility, pendejo!"

Gabriel clicked his tongue and gulped down the coffee.

"Is it because of that woman Kasey?"

She had dumped him yet again matter-of-factly. And oh how well Miguel could read him. Gabriel wasn't friends with rejection after all and he rather indulge things that kept him busy, like alcohol and other new companies than openly talk.

"Dude, fucking stop acting like mom-

Miguel couldn't help but fist his hands on each side of himself, trying to ground himself at the sudden fit of rage that worked hard to get to his brain.

Why? Why his beloved Ma always had to screw things for him even when she wasn't present?

"Why the fuck you always bring her up?"

"Cause that shuts you up! God you're so annoying at times, Miguel. Always wanting to control everything around you!."

"Cause I fucking care! Do you see mom around with you when you get fucking drunk and all full of puke? No, you see me. She's too fucking busy doing her life away from us."

Gabriel's anger rose faster than a self rising flour, increasing it's density with each word Miguel spilled. He wasn't in the mood to be lectured, and his ammo to shut his elder brother was running short.

"I still talk to her, that says alot on it's own."

"But of course you would! She tolerates your shit and still treats you like a baby while I'm the one that deals with the whole mess none of you has the fucking guts to face!"

"None fucking asked you to!"

Oh, but now it was personal. Gabriel regretted a bit too late the words, cause Miguel's eyes narrowed dangerously at him, but once his temper, George's trademark on his blood, shone through; nothing could stop it. Not even the flash of hurt crossing Miguel's eyes.

"You say you care? All I can see is you tearing people apart with your... your fucking snarky replies and being a hypocrite." Gabriel hissed

"Hypocrite maybe, but not ungrateful." Miguel's red irises hardened and turned devoid of any emotion

"I never asked you to do shit for me, Miguel!"

Yet he would crawl to his bed when a storm was too much to bear on his own lonely bed. Yet he'd be the one that would hold and soothe him when Conchata argued nonstop with George and things got two rowdy between them. Yet he was and always been there for him, selflessly, ever since he was able to think on his own.

Miguel was by any mean perfect, but he was there, watching him grow up, supporting him in his own way. Taking the mantle that neither his Ma or Papa were functional enough to wear, despite his young age.

But he couldn't turn back time and bite those words back. Cause that would spare him the deep plunge in his heart at the sight of Miguel turning his back on him, shoulders defeated and jaw clenched. He nodded a couple of times before placing all his attention the now cold breakfast before him.

"I think it's time for you to start looking for a place."

Miguel's deflated tone sent a chill down his spine. Gabriel's mouth and heart was still on fight mode.

"Now you're just being petty."

But even that biting remark didn't make Miguel flinch or look at him. Just earned him a disappointed shake of his head and a chuckle that could be mistaken for a sob.

"No, you ain't worth it. Just taking my new relationship seriously. I've got other things to deal with than doing this on a regular basis with you. I... I think I do deserve a bit of peace too."

Gabriel's eyes bore into Miguel's back as he talked, silently pleading to look at him. But this time, his elder brother didn't spare him a glance, not even a disdainful one. He had hurt more than Miguel's pride.

"Have it your way then."

Gabriel left him. Leaving some minutes later after the fresh altercation.

Ungrateful as he was, Gabriel knew when to give him space. Once he was sure Gabri had been gone, his throat released a shaky breath.

His hands shook as he grabbed his phone, quickly wiping the liquid pain that blurred his sight to then dial your number.

"I'm on my way. Need to..." he cleared his throat. "I need to talk. Ok?" A brief silence, "Hmm. Need anything over there?"

He wiped his face once more and bit his lip for a second.

"Gotcha. Ya te llego." (I'll be there soon)

[elsa-fogen]

Ok, Rosie headcanon for you!! Might be a slight AU but whatever lol

I like to imagine that Rosie is actually REALLY old. Died in the 1400s or something (maybe for being a suspected witch 👀) , and she just sort of kept up with the times until she found a period that suited her (getting there on that). This also ties into Cannibal Town/Colony name thing!!

Idk how much you know about American history (I know if I didn't live in this crazy country I'd know nothing by choice lol), but in the late 1500s Roanoke Colony was established where North Carolina is now. They struggled with supplies and relations with native people so the founder left to get supplies/help etc; when he came back 5 years later everyone had disappeared without a trace, no graves, bodies, only the word "CROATOAN" carved into a rock. It's a mystery nobody has solved since.

BUT.

WHAT IF.

They ran out of resources, right? What if food ran so low that people began to resort to cannibalism? And things were going so badly that some desperate person tried to summon a demon, anything to help them?

And Rosie, twisted and dark as she may be, took her own sort of sympathy on the poor, struggling colony of Roanoke, and took them all down to Hell as her own colony of souls: Cannibal Colony, leaving Roanoke empty without a trace of its inhabitants. From then on, she just sort of adopted any cannibals who fell into hell as part of her little town, so long as they assimilated and didn't cause trouble. She owns all their souls, yes, but they have some level of peace and security knowing she'll take care of them.

With the "updating culture" thing, I also headcanon that she liked to keep up with the times and stay current until sometime after slavery ended, a little before Alastor arrived (depression era) she didn't like where modern times were headed and just sort of...stopped progress, like a time capsule. Modern times started progressing too fast, and she didn't want everything to be forgotten in the rush to the future, especially the way the human world was looking with the depression. She did rename them to Cannibal Town eventually, since it was more than just her original Colony that gave her Overlord status.

I love Rosie 👁👄👁 sorry for the giant text block lol

P.S. Your art inspires me so much!! And your characterizations are *chef's kiss* I feel like your blog is consistently one I can come to to get canon-accurate character content without facing an onslaught of r********e (finally someone who can't stand it as much as me! Sending all the love 💓

oH WOW! This is really damn good and interesting headcanon! You almost convinced me to change mine to this (well, i like the idea of Rosie being SUSPECTED witch gshssh angssssst yessss). I realized that actually I don't have much that keeps me from just accepting this. Only 2 things

one is that she in her life was fighting for women's rights, and keeps doing it in hell, but i guess she still can even being older.

second one is more important. Rosie and Alastor are roughly same age (30-40 age gap is nothing in hell, were age gaps can be thousands of years) and this is one of the reasons they get along, i think.

Plus in my plot Rosie being a relatively young overlord plays significant role...

But as i said, you headcanon really cool! Maybe i'd use it for some new AU haha

P.S. Your art inspires me so much!! And your characterizations are *chef's kiss* I feel like your blog is consistently one I can come to to get canon-accurate character content without facing an onslaught of r********e (finally someone who can't stand it as much as me! Sending all the love 💓

GAHYHHHAFGS THANK YOU! I'm really happy to know that i'm not alone on this hate board hsbfsdhfj

Here you can be safe, never ever you'll see anything positive about this ship on my blog 😂 (no offence to those who likes it) Love you too 💖💖💖

[onlybeeewrites]

If you decide to write for Bridgerton, can you write something for Benedict? Maybe like friends to lovers or something x

The Muse

Requested: By anon

Warnings: nothing just pining

Painting: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Request: If you decide to write for Bridgerton, can you write something for Benedict? Maybe friends to lovers or something

Authors Note: I beg for forgiveness that it has taken me so long to get to this. I had insane writers block, then university hit like a truck and had to put writing on hold. But I have returned and I loved this request. I am currently rewatching Brigderton after watching Queen Charlotte so I hope this to your liking. So sorry again, love <3

—————————————————————————————

You had grow up beside the Bridgerton Household your entire life—to the estate beside theirs at least. Your father’s had been quite good friends, and as your parents began with their families the relationship between the two had grown. This has allowed you to have direct access to the household since you could even remember. Your were at the young age of four and twenty, just a few years older than the eldest Bridgerton daughter, but still a few years younger than the second eldest Bridgerton who also just so happened to be your closest companion.

You remembered the first time you had met the boy, or at least remembered meeting him. You were but about six years of age, and Benedict was ten. Your mother had dragged you over to the house as she more often did to have tea with the Viscountess Bridgerton as they did more often than not. It was in their tea room where you were interacting with Colin when Benedict had come in rather excitedly to show his mother a drawing he had made. You could remember her cooing her second eldest son, praising his rather interesting art piece. Curiously you had glanced over, interested with all the paint colors and such. Benedict had noticed your curiosity and offered for you to have a closer look. From then on whenever you had come over you had eagerly awaited to see what Benedict had created next.

This little routine continued as you all got older. Of course after the passing of their Father, there was more comfort and reassurance whenever you had visited. Though, even in a time of such great sorrow, Benedict had portrayed that emotion within his paintings and drawings. You had been the one to support him and aid him in any such way possible.

As time continued, the two of your had grown closer. Of course you had grown closer with all the Bridgerton siblings, Benedict was the one you were closest with. The one you could also scope out at balls if you needed to escape another dreadfully boring dance partner, or an attempted suitor that was twice your age. Of course your father was there to ensure nothing of the sort would occur, but there would be times where Benedict was simply closer and much better at conversation.

Often Lady Whistledown commented on the you both, sometimes a bit too often. There would be whispers about you both, how often you dance with each other at balls or are seen giggling a bit tipsy with each other in the corners. Most of the time it had not bother you—when you were younger at least. Though as you blossomed and grew into yourself, you also were able to recognize your feelings. You believed it was around ten and six when you had realized you were doomed. That you had fallen completely in love with Benedict. It was not something you liked to think about nor dwell on for too long. Why would he, a Bridgerton, a most handsome, talented, funny, charming man like himself even think about courting you?

It was not that you felt like you were unattractive in some sort of way, you were rather pretty. But it was the fact that you were best friends with Benedict that caused you to think this way. There was a chance of him not returning those feelings. There was a chance that he would laugh in your face assuming it was a joke. There was a chance of him scoffing in your face and cutting you and your friendship off completely.

There was no chance that you would even consider taking that risk—no matter how often Daphne or hell, even Elouise would reassure you that he had returned those feelings to you.

Though one afternoon, you sat with him in the Bridgerton’s drawing room. You had been having some tea that Rose had gotten for you while Benedict drew. He drew with his charcoaled that made his long fingers turning an odd shade of black within his drawing pad. You had always admired the way he looked to serious when he drew. His eyebrows furrowed, causing wrinkles to cover his forehead. He also had this habit of tilting his head; you assumed it was to get a different angle on whatever his latest creations was. But your most favorite thing was when he would be stuck on something. Maybe it was because he could not draw it correctly, or the art was not coming out the way he wanted it to. But once he figures it out, or it comes out the way that he had wanted and the ways his eyes lit up with pride and eureka was your absolute favorite.

“what is it you are drawing today?” You asked, lifting the fragile porcelain to your lips as you take a small sip of the warm tea. Your eyes flicker from your cup to the Bridgerton across from you. And just in time too because was already looking at you. His body tensed slightly before he attempted to play it off.

“Nothing you must worry your head about,” he said in a teasing tone, as he most often did. But he was just trying to play it off when in reality it was you. He was drawing you, in your beautiful soft green dress, your hair done up into a neat braid to keep from your beautiful face. You looked stunning and he wanted to capture it like he had done many time before.

It was always you that he drew, especially when you plagued his thoughts in the late. Hours. Oh if you only knew that you were his muse. The very figure and image of you filled pages and pages of his work. Two of the things he loves most wrapped into one. But what if you were to find out? You would never return and that would break his heart. He was so in love with you it ached to not be able to hold you, kiss you when he wanted. He felt this especially at balls and suitors would come up to your constantly, it made his blood boil. But he had hoped he kept it well hidden. Well, enough to keep it from you. His family on the other hand seemed to know or notice it for quite sometime. According to his mother, both of your mother’s knew of it. Everyone seem to know. Everyone but you.

Too busy in his thoughts, he did not feel the dip in the sofa until it was too late. You had seated yourself right next to him with a small huff as you tried to peak at this new creation before he was able to hide it. But he managed, which caused you to pout slightly. Of those lips…he wanted nothing more to cup your face and kiss you right then and there.

“Benedict. You always show me your drawings,” you had insisted, which just caused the other to shake his head.

“Nonsense. There are plenty of work that you have not seen. Besides it is no good anyways, there is no point in showing it off if it is no good.” He said, giving his best friend a look. This only made you want to see more. “you always saw your work is no good and it is always beautiful. Let me see, please?” You pleaded as you took hold of a part of his drawing pad. There was some back and forth, some ‘no’s’ and ‘oh please’ as you both struggled to take proper hold of the pad.

Eventually his hands slipped and lost its grip on the pad, landing it right into your smaller grasp. “ha! I have got it now. Now, let us see what you have been working so hard on,” you tease before looking at the drawing Benedict had been working so hard on. It was a lady, a rather beautiful one. But the longer you looked, the more you realized that this lady in the charcoal had the same features as you. the same face shape, body type, hair—even the little scar that was right on the bridge of your nose that you had gotten as a child. And you face began to redden as you slowly looked towards Benedict. “Are…is this of me?” You ask in wonder, amazement and without a single sound of disgust or hated—this reassures Benedict a bit more at least.

He nods and before he could utter another word, you flip through pages; more drawings of you. “You make me look beautiful..” you say in wonder and this causes Benedict to furrow his eyebrows once more but not in concentration but confusion.

“Because you are beautiful. I draw what I see and what I see from you is…” he stopped himself from speaking another word, too afraid to come across as too forward. He took a breath, figuring now is a better time than ever. The Bridgerton boy took the drawing pad from your hands and placed it next to him before giving you his full attention. Your face is covered with blush, flustered from this whole thing.

“I suppose now I must explain myself before it comes across strangely. But I do draw you. More times than not because you plague my every waking moment, you have since we were children. You have captured my heart from years and you have refused to return it to me. My dearest friend…..my feelings for you grow into one where I want you by my side forever, not just in my drawings. You are my muse for everything I do and I cannot bear it being another nor you being with anyone else..” he said, “So I suppose-“

You cut him off by leaning forward and giving him a kiss. Your soft ones pressed against his own. It was bold and improper. But his words were moving and your heart would not stop its fluttering. So you had kissed him, hoping no one would see. The kiss was everything you both had imagined it would be like and more.

So once you had pulled away to his surprised but smug reaction, you simply nodded, “Of course, it would be delighted to court you, my dearest. I have been waiting so long for this moment.” You say, still almost not believing that your love was also your best friend.

“I suppose we both were a bit too blind and afraid to admit it, hm?” He chuckled, taking your hands in his, getting a bit of the charcoal onto your hands. You giggle and nod,

“Yes I suppose so. But I also would love to see these other drawings of me that you have mentioned,” you teased him, now making it his turn to blush as he realized what he had admitted.

“Perhaps another time…?” He asked hopefully and you grin mischievously, almost impishly.

“Or perhaps we can give you something else to draw,” you said suggestively continuing to tease him about such thing.

“Oh I quite like the sound of that,” Benedict grinned as he pulled you in for another quick kiss. Perhaps it was a good thing you had seen the drawings after all.

[nattikay]

All Known Minor Omatikaya Characters

for the purposes of this list, "minor character" is defined as either a.) a character who exists in the comics but is not mentioned in the movies, and/or b.) a character who is named in the movies but does not have a speaking role.

SYLWANIN* Neytiri's older sister. We don't know exactly how much older she was, but based on the art in the Adapt or Die comics it appears to be at least 3-4 years. The RDA pursued her to Grace's schoolhouse and killed her after she and a few friends set a bulldozer on fire to protest the clearcutting, which event caused the school to get shut down. She was the original tsakarem (tsahìk-in-training) as well as Tsu'tey's true love and his original betrothed. Neytiri inherited both her position as tsakarem and engagement to Tsu'tey after her death.

.

NEYTEP and ANUK Sylwanin's friends, who were also killed in the schoolhouse incident. Their names are mentioned briefly in the Tsutey's Path comics, but we don't know much else about them, nor have any known images of them.

.

TAKUK One of the group of young warriors Tsu'tey is training throughout the Tsu'tey's Path comics, which I will refer to from here on out as "Tsu'tey's apprentices" for brevity's sake. He appears to be the top student among the group, as Tsu'tey is often asking him to take the lead.

.

KA'ANI Initially introduced as one of Tsu'tey's apprentices in Tsu'tey's Path, and one of the two who completes his Iknimaya alongside Jake. He's seen again in The Next Shadow comics and seems to be a good friend of Jake's (cheers him on during their Iknimaya in A1; defends him against Ateyo and Artsut in The Next Shadow).

.

SAEYLA One of Tsu'tey's apprentices, and one of the two who completes her Iknimaya alongside Jake. Has a crush on Tsu'tey, but he rejects her. (her hairstyle is different between the comic and the movie scene, but Tsu'tey specifically names her and Ka'ani as the two who are doing Iknimaya with Jake).

.

MARU One of Tsu'tey's apprentices. Talks Saeyla out of trying to pursue Tsu'tey further; refers to her as "child" which might imply that she's a bit older than the others, though it could've also just been her making a jab at Saeyla's behavior.

.

ATAN One of Tsu'tey's apprentices. Died in the attack on Hometree. (I know the hairstyles do not match between the two panels (based on the stripes I'm actually wondering if the left one was a mislabeled Takuk/the designs got mixed up), but the character is directly addressed as "Atan" in both panels so...let's say he just got a haircut ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

.

NEKAWN A child from the clan during the events of A1, who Grace addresses briefly by name during Tsu'tey's Path. Would be an adult by the main timeline of A2.

.

ATEYO and ARTSUT Tsu'tey's parents. After the events of A1, they attempt to assassinate Jake by convincing their other son, Arvok, to challenge him to ritualistic combat, and then secretly poisoning Arvok's blade. When Jake survives the attempt, they are exiled from the Omatikaya as punishment, after which they seek to join the Mangkwan** clan. Artsut in particular also apparently has some sort of long-standing beef with Mo'at, though we don't get the details on what caused it.

.

ARVOK Tsu'tey's younger brother. He is first briefly mentioned in the Tsu'tey's Path comics, then plays a much larger role in The Next Shadow. He looks like an adult in The Next Shadow (which takes place two weeks after the end of A1) but is referred to by Tsu'tey as "a child" in Tsu'tey's Path (which is concurrent with A1), so he is probably actually a teenager. His parents manipulated him into challenging Jake to non-lethal ritualistic combat to contest his claim to the olo'eyktan title, but Ateyo and Artsut secretly poisoned his knife (Arvok himself had no intention of killing Jake and his parents knew he wouldn't go through with the plot if he'd known). Ateyo and Artsut go on to frame a confused and startled Arvok for the attempted murder when the blade nicks Jake and he faints. The truth is brought to light in the end, but Arvok feels complicit anyways, and wants to be included in the punishment--in fact, he is the one who suggests exile. The three of them leave the clan together, but later that night Arvok abandons his parents to forge his own path (good for him honestly they're toxic as heck). His current whereabouts are unknown.

.

YEYONGO A mother who reluctantly allows her injured child to be treated by the human scientists in The Next Shadow.

.

NINAT A woman from the clan, who Neytiri briefly describes as being a good singer.

.

PEYRAL A woman from the clan, who Neytiri briefly describes as being a good hunter. We don't have any images of her as far as I know.

.

TARSEM Jake's successor as olo'eyktan when the Sully family flees the clan.

. ENTU and RALU Lived thousands of years before A1. Entu was the first Toruk Makto; Ralu was his best friend and adoptive brother after Entu's parents were killed by a thanator. Their story is told in the Cirque du Soleil show Toruk: The First Flight.

-

*this spelling actually breaks Na'vi language rules as y is not supposed to act like a vowel; presumably it was decided on before language was fully developed. That said, "Sylwanin" is technically still the "official" spelling and likely will never be "corrected" in canon material...but if we're going by the language rules it should really be "Sìlwanìn" ("Sìlwanin" would also be a valid spelling but the way they pronounce that last syllable in the movie sounds more like nìn than nin to me).

**the name of this clan also breaks currently-known Na'vi syllable rules, as "kw" is an invalid consonant cluster; it should be something like Mangkìwan. I suppose it's possible that the "Mangkwan" have their own dialect where kw is allowed, but I think it's more likely just an error on the writer's part (wouldn't be the only time the comics have made a little slip with the language--The High Ground spells "skxawng" as "skwang" 🙃)

[yxngbxkkie]

off limits (h.h)

skz racing series is back! apologies for being all over the place. 😅 i hope you guys enjoy this and let me know who you'd like to see next! we've got channie, felix, jeongin, and hannie 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 💓

You're walking into the elevator with your father and his assistant, Choi. After the doors close, Choi glances towards your father and clears his throat. "I hate to ruin a good mood, sir," he begins, gaining both of your attention. "But, there was another race last night."

Race? "Are you sure?" Your father asks, and Choi nods. You watch the two interact with one another. Choi shows him photos on his phone, causing the older man to scoff. "I'm tired of these damn kids."

The elevator stops gradually before the metal doors open. Both of them allow you to walk out first. You keep your mouth shut until it's just you and your father. You walk outside of your father's company building and turn to face him.

"What's he talking about?" You ask him with a raised brow. "Are you doing some sort of fundraiser?"

He laughs loudly. "No, I'm not," he says while leading you down the steps. "It's nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart."

"Are you sure? I don't have to worry about you, do I?" You ask him, wagging your finger in front of him.

"You don't need to worry," he smiles before draping an arm around you. "Your old man has control of everything."

You lean into his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Okay, good. Sometimes, I worry about you," you sigh, gliding your hand up and down his back.

"I know, sweetheart. I'm fine though. I promise you," he reassures you the best he can, squeezing your shoulder gently. "What are you doing today? Hopefully not spending it all with me. Your old man's quite boring."

A giggle leaves your lips, and you shake your head. "No, I thought about going to the art museum today. I haven't been in a while," you mention to him.

"That should be fun! Going by yourself or with some friends?"

"Just by myself. None of my friends are interested in art," you tell him with a laugh. "I prefer going alone anyway."

He walks you to the sleek black car before opening the back passenger door. "Are you going there now? Do you need any money?" Your father asks, reaching for his wallet.

"No, no, no," you stop him, your hand catching his wrist. "I already have tickets. I don't need anything, dad."

"Okay, fine. Have fun, okay?"

You nod your head and place a kiss on his cheek. You bid each other goodbye before you slip into the backseat of the vehicle.

The drive from your father's company to the art museum is about half an hour. You thank the driver after exiting the vehicle. You fish your phone out from your jacket, pulling up the electronic ticket.

You greet the person sitting in the admissions booth, showing the young woman your phone screen. She scans the ticket before motioning towards the entrance.

"Enjoy the exhibit," she politely mentions, waving her hand.

"Thank you!" You nod your head with a smile.

You feel a little giddy as you make your way inside. It's been a couple of months since you've been able to come here. Work has been extremely busy, leaving you with very little free time.

You admire each art piece for about five minutes. Taking in every detail and brush stroke you can find. You take pictures of your favorites, quickly checking the quality of it afterward.

When you move on to the next piece, you keep your eyes on your phone. You noticed a text from one of your friends and decided to answer her while walking.

A gasp leaves your lips as your body collides into someone else. You reach a hand out, steadying yourself while keeping the stranger standing upright. "I'm so sorry," you apologize, lifting your head to look at them.

"It's okay," the man laughs, resting one of his hands on top of yours. "Are you okay?"

You nod your head in response. He's so handsome. You think to yourself. His eyes drift from your eyes to your hand, and that's currently still gripping his jacket. You squeal in embarrassment, dropping your hand to your sides.

"Goodness, I'm sorry," you apologize again while tucking some hair behind your ear. "I didn't hurt you, right?"

The dark-haired man shakes his head, continuing to smile brightly at you. "No, I'm good. My name's Hyunjin," he introduces himself, bowing slightly before holding his hand out to you.

"Hyunjin," you repeat with a smile. You bow as well, telling him your name. You shake his hand afterward, the coolness of his rings shocking you slightly. "It's nice to meet you. Do you come here often?"

"I try to, yeah," he nods. The two of you start walking together. "I paint myself, so I come here as much as I can."

"You paint?" Your eyes lit up at the news, getting excited. "Do you have any pictures? I'd love to see!"

He bashfully laughs, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. "I-I do, yeah," Hyunjin stutters over his words. "They're not as good as these, though."

You smile up at him. "I'm sure they are, Hyunjin," you reassure him, bouncing on your heels.

He pulls up a picture on his phone, showing you a picture of an elderly couple. You gasp, subconsciously taking the phone from his hands. You zoom in on the photo, taking it all in.

"Hyunjin, this is absolutely amazing," you tell him truthfully, keeping your eyes on the photo.

"Thank you. That means a lot," he says with warm cheeks. He takes his phone back from you, slipping it into his back pocket. "What about you? Do you paint? Or draw?"

You hiss and cover your face. "See, you think I would, but unfortunately, I don't," you sigh in defeat. "I was not blessed with art skills. I just really enjoy looking at it."

"I'm sure you're not terrible," Hyunjin mentions while nudging your arm. You scoff jokingly, lifting your head to meet his eyes. "I can teach you if you want."

"Can I make one request for that?" You ask, biting your lip. When Hyunjin nods his head yes, your stomach fills with butterflies. "Can it be a date?"

His dark eyes widen at your request, and you notice his cheeks reddening. "Y-Yeah," he agrees.

You grab your phone from your jacket, opening up a new contact before handing it to him. Hyunjin looks down at your phone, slowly taking it into his hands. He types in his contact information and hands it back to you.

"Let me just," you cut yourself off, texting him so he has your number as well. You lock your phone afterward, shoving it back where it was. "Text me whenever you're free, okay?"

Hyunjin nods his head, a smile coming to his plump lips. "Feel free to text me whenever," he adds on as the two of you start walking in opposite directions.

"I will. You do the same," you wave to him, rounding a corner after. You stop after taking a few steps, resting your back against the white wall. You release a sigh and smile widely. "He's so cute."

You shake your head while pushing yourself off the wall, continuing your path through the art museum. As you look at many more amazing paintings, you couldn't help but wonder if you'll see Hyunjin again soon.

-

"I appreciate your help, sweetheart. I didn't realize the trip would take this long," your father mentions, his voice echoing off the walls of his office.

He's currently in Japan on a business trip, and originally, he's supposed to be back today. The flight he's scheduled for is delayed, causing a few meetings to be behind schedule.

"It's no problem, dad," you laugh while picking up your phone, staring at his contact photo. "I need to go. It's getting late, and I don't feel like walking home in the dark."

"Alright, I'll let you go. Message me when you get home, okay?" He asks, hearing a hint of worry in his voice.

"Of course. If it gets too dark I'll catch an Uber," you reassure him, hovering your finger over the disconnect button. "Love you."

Your father bids you goodnight, making sure to let you know that he loves you too. Both of you hang up, and you set your phone down onto his desk. You swivel in his office chair, looking out the large windows.

"Man, it's getting pretty dark pretty fast," you mention to yourself. You remind yourself to call an Uber before leaving the building.

Your gaze moves down the window, noticing the parking lot across the street is filled with sports cars. You raise an eyebrow as you spot the group of people surrounding some of the vehicles.

A hum leaves your lips, and you turn back towards the desk. You decide to head out for the day, logging out of your father's computer. You clean up his desk before standing up, sliding your phone into your pocket.

It takes you a couple of minutes to get down to the lobby, growing shocked that no one's here. A shiver runs down your spine, finding it odd to walk through a dimly lit lobby. You walk out of the company building, the voices from the parking lot of cars getting louder.

"It's packed over there," you say to yourself, making your way across the street.

You walk past dozens of cars as you head towards your favorite convenience store. A familiar figure walks past one of the vehicles, causing you to stop in your tracks.

Your lips part in surprise as you see Hyunjin walking with another guy. You never would've guessed that he'd be at one of these, let alone own a sports car. His eyes end up meeting yours, and you quickly look away.

"Shit," you curse to yourself and quickly walk towards the store.

A hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you from going any further. "Y/N, hi," Hyunjin greets you, shifting his position so he's standing in front of you.

"Hey, Hyunjin," you smile at him, feeling his thumb stroking your wrist.

"Do you work out here?" He asks you, wondering why you're out so late. You furrow your brows at his question. Hyunjin motions his head towards your father's building. "I saw you walk out of that corporate building."

You glance over your shoulder, noticing that you can see the lobby doors from here. "Uh, not exactly. My dad… owns it," you tell him slowly. "He's stuck in Japan, so I had to take care of a couple of his appointments."

"Your dad owns that building?" He asks with wide eyes, a low wow escaping his lips afterward.

"Yeah, it's alright," you shrug your shoulders, tucking some hair behind your ear. "Hey, actually, can I ask you something?"

Hyunjin nods his head, waiting for you to continue.

"The other day, he was talking to his assistant, and they mentioned a race happening near here. Would you happen to know about that?"

"Ah," he laughs, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, we race here."

"You race?" You ask in disbelief.

The black-haired man nods his head in answer before grabbing your hand. Your heart flutters in your chest when his fingers lace yours, leading you towards the parking lot.

"Wait, where are we going?" You mumble, almost tripping over your own feet.

"I want to show you my car," he says while glancing back at you. "Since you can't seem to believe I street race."

A scoff leaves your lips as the two of you weave through the crowd of people. You apologize to some after bumping into them. You tighten your grip on Hyunin's hand, jogging a little so you can grab a hold of the back of his shirt.

He stops and checks on you. "Are you okay?" Hyunjin asks, glancing around.

"Yeah, I just don't want to lose you," you mention loud enough for him to hear.

He squeezes your hand before continuing to tug you along. "I'm right here," he reassures you.

You bite your lip as the temptation to kiss him becomes evident. Hyunjin stops in front of an orange vehicle, pointing at it with his free hand.

"This is mine," he grins. "Isn't she a beaut?"

"I like the color. It's my favorite actually," you tell him with a laugh, looking over the sports car.

His smile turns into a smirk, and he leans against it. "Oh, yeah? Will that give me an advantage if I ask you out?" Hyunjin asks.

"What?!" Your breath hitches in your throat as you look into his brown eyes.

"Are you surprised?"

You nodded your head, subconsciously bringing a hand to the tip of your ear. "A little bit, yeah. I just didn't expect it," you chuckle nervously.

Hyunjin laughs again as he glances down at your conjoined hands. "You were the one that asked for a date," he mentions with a raised brow.

"I know that, but I didn't think you'd actually want to," you hide your face with your free hand.

He squeezes your hand gently and smiles fondly at you. "You're really pretty, and I would love to get to know you more," Hyunjin says, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"You're like every girl's dream guy," you laugh, shaking your head as you continue to feel embarrassed.

Hyunjin chuckles, combing his fingers through his hair. "Including you?"

You press your lips together, turning your head to look away from him. "Yeah," you whisper loud enough for him to hear.

He releases your hand, bringing both of his hands to your cheeks. Hyunjin makes you look at him, his dark eyes staring into yours. Your breath hitches in your throat when he leans closer to you.

Your eyes flutter shut as his nose brushes against yours. He lifts your head slightly, leaning in further to kiss you. Before Hyunjin's lips meet yours, your phone rings from inside your pocket.

"Shit," you gasp and abruptly pull away from him. You fish your phone out from your pocket, seeing your father calling. You meet Hyunjin's eyes and hold up a finger. You answer the phone, pressing the device against your ear. "Hey, dad."

"Hi, sweetheart. Did you already leave the office?" He asks kind of erratically.

"Yeah, why? Are you okay?" You question him, turning your back towards Hyunjin.

He doesn't answer you right away, hearing him saying something incoherently to someone else. "Yeah, I'm okay. I was just informed about a race happening, and I wanted to make sure you weren't there," your father mentions, and your eyes widen.

"Yeah, I already left," you lie to him, running a hand through your hair. "You don't need to worry, okay?"

Your father releases a sigh into the phone receiver. "I know. I just don't want you mixed in with that," he mentions. You look back at Hyunjin, seeing his eyes glued to his phone. "We're now boarding the plane. Let's get some food when I get back, okay?"

A chuckle leaves your lips, and you nod your head. "Of course, dad. I'll see you when you get home," you mentioned before the two of you bid each other goodbye.

You turn to face Hyunjin again and he locks his phone, giving you his attention. "Everything okay?" He asks you.

"Yeah, yeah," you breathe out, providing a small smile.

He tilts his head to the side. "Are you sure? You look a little worried," he tells you with furrowed brows.

"My dad," you start, pausing for a quick second, "he doesn't want me around this." You motion to all the street racing cars.

Hyunjin's smile drops from his lips. "Ah, I see. What do you want?" He asks you, taking a step closer to you.

"I want to see you race," you whisper to him, looking up at him through your lashes. "I'd also really like to kiss you."

The smile returns to his lips, and he brings his hand back to your cheek. "You should ride with me," he says while stroking your skin.

"I should?"

He nods his head before connecting your lips with his. Your heart pounds against your chest, bringing your hands to his chest. You kiss him back, gently gripping the shirt he's wearing.

"Hyunjin!" Someone shouts his name, causing the two of you to pull away. Both of you look in the direction of the voice, seeing the guy he was walking with earlier. "Race starts in five!"

"Okay," he tells him with a thumbs up. The man pats Hyunjin on his back, and Hyunjin turns back to face you. "Ready, angel?"

You release a deep breath as others around you start getting into their vehicles. You nod your head in answer. "Ready as I will be."

~

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @luckieleaf @stayconnecteed @tiaxa @yoonrimin @sunny-future @daysofskz-ateez @endzii23 @sweetbutpsychovalkyrie @bunnies-only @sleepyleeji @hhwangsmoon

[splitster]

answering more asks!!

featuring pom wraith, pingo, ocs?!, and older art check it out (three's some art 💖)↓↓

THANK you!! ohhh i do have old pikmin ocs... i actually revamped my old captain a while back, i can share him:

i had a whole crew of pikmin ocs who were a part of the S.S. Harmony, they were gonna be SUCH a nuisance to everyone they ran into...

i thought about making a rescue corps oc for fun. hrmm! maybe...

AHHH thank you!! i've seen a shocking number tags and asks from people saying that I'm apparently the reason they like Dingo now? and i have to say that is so mind boggling to me, because when i first played Pikmin 4 I didn't care about him at all!! he was a nothing sandwich to me... but then i drew him a few times... and started thinking... and then things went downhill and now i REALLY like him...

(referring to this post) i think dingo is better when he's withered

(referring to this comic) I HEAR YOU... I HEAR YOU... but if any tear at all would cause oxygen poisoning, i wouldn't be able to draw them all battered and cool :(

i imagine that there's a seal around the neck in case there's a breach in the suit's lining. so as long as their backpack (life-support) works and is connected to their helmets, then they can breathe✨

(referring to this post) Olimar would be horrified because he knows Louie, and if he sees that note there's only one thing it could mean! his coworker tried to eat pom!! if pom hasn't been outed as wraith and Olimar is questioning her, she'd just say Louie bit her and then refuse to answer any follow up questions 💖

Shepherd would be... concerned. she might think they have a weird fling going on and louie's talking about a kiss? she probably wouldn't realize Louie quite literally means he ate something from pom. oops!

that's a really good question... I'll be honest, with a lot of the "when and how did x happen" questions, there's not an official timeline or anything; the pom wraith au is sort of an umbrella with a bunch of different stories and what-ifs underneath it. although there was one story where louie does find out her secret!

louie and pom end up bridging their differences (with the help of olimar), and become good friends while pom is continuing the rescue effort. then there's a very unfortunate incident where pom and louie are away from the base and they're attacked... pom has to reveal herself to defend them and she accidentally hurts louie :(

its fine though, louie doesn't care what pom is. they're both freaks in his mind and that's all that really matters. he does end up having to defend pom from olimar (who's been made vindictive through his trauma with the plasm wraith) sometime later!! here's some older art:

sure

me too! they do NOT get along... louie's kinda pissed at her for chasing him around on PNF404 and beating him in dandori battles when he just wants to stay there and vibe. pom meanwhile doesn't understand him, he pisses her off too! she likes olimar a lot, and as an outsider it looks like louie doesn't appreciate the friendship olimar offers him. to someone who's trying to understand and participate in this whole friendship business, she thinks he's ungrateful and weird. they do not get along!! at the beginning at least...

AHHHH!!! THANK YOU!!! WAHH...🥺💖💖 i'm very glad you enjoy my silly little art style!! i want to make things very squishy so i appreciate that 💖

i don't think that man is going to live!

wait actually if you eat enough maybe you just turn into a wraith. that'd be scary! hopefully olimar's there to stop him

that's a fun thought! he would probably be able to sense that something is off about her. but he'd also probably just think "she's weird like me." honestly, the whole wraith thing doesn't really matter much to him -- the only thing it changes is that pom can now offer her tendrils as a skewer for his cooking at any time and location!

i think i'm gonna call her rose wraith!! and ohh, i didn't know that... i was just gonna call her rose wraith since she has a rose head. i'm creative i promise

(referring to this post i think) AHHH hehe... honestly, when Pom first learns about Dingo's fear of blood, she only tries to keep him from it because it's really annoying dealing with your coworker when they faint. he's like a sack of potatoes when he's knocked out. but yes, as they become actual friends pom will (subtly) do her best to keep blood away from dingo. it's fortunate she doesn't have any!

she might not get phobias, but she understands what its like to have a crippling fear, so she's empathetic!

THANK you. he has sunglasses. he's pretty cool

AHH THANK YOU... i like them a lot... 👉👈

let the marching pikmin give you the energy you need to practice🫡

[1schadenfreude1]

Rewriting Cain Boyfriend to Death 2 Love how the BTD fandom just collectively agreed to adopt EP's characters as our own I am absolutely tormented by the fact that Cain had so much potential but just. does not have the best writing ugh he's too similar to Rire and it kills me SO I am rewriting the fallen angel, lots of headcanons below the cut

Cain's number one motivation for why he does what he does is BOREDOM He's been torturing people in hell for centuries and it's become BORING. He wants something new, something interesting. He wants to see live humans and savor their emotions. Cain misses being human He'd never admit it out loud of course, but he does miss having real human emotions and enjoying human pleasures. Of course he can't be on earth too long while angels are hunting him, but maybe, spending time with humans will help him regain some of that human feeling?

Cain is chaotic evil incarnate LISTEN everyone in btd2 is a silly dork and Cain should be one too. He should have the most unpredictable and immature chaotic energy. Do you trust this face??? You shouldn't

I think he just. does shit without thinking. Like he's been away from real humans for so long that he's sort of forgotten how fragile they can be.

"Oh c'mon little toy you can handle a little boiling water, right? Hello? Human? Fuck. Guess I need a new one." Yeah he's incredibly overpowered but that doesn't mean he knows how to USE that power lmao. He doesn't know how to interact with people anymore. he wants to be human again, but all he really knows how to do is…torture people. he's so dumb.

Straight up contradicting canon here but-- Cain feels bad for killing Abel Asking about Abel makes Cain get SUPER uncomfortable and shut down. He doesn't wanna talk about it. He definitely doesn't feel remorse about it. Nope. No remorse here. Abel is DEAD and GONE and good riddance and he DEFINITELY doesn't have lingering issues about it. Fuck you. Rips you apart with chains.

He loves bullying Damien though They have each other's phone numbers for god's sake. Cain sends Damien gore porn of the people he's killed. Those two try to kill each other on a weekly basis. It's normal for them. Yes that is Damien's severed arm on the living room wall. It brings Cain joy. Don't worry about it. Totally normal thing to say to your sibling

Cain and Rire are rivals I think this is basically canon (based on Darqx's gorgeous art and animatics) but I wanna delve into it a bit! They're both incredibly powerful supernatural monsters, but their main difference comes down to this: Rire is lawful evil Cain is chaotic evil Cain kills people for purely selfish reasons: he wants to see human reactions and feel their emotions again. He thinks that causing pain will help him feel human. Rire kills people because its his job to collect souls. He loves his job and has a lot of fun with it, but in the end its still his job.

Cain is much, much older but Rire is way more mature

Cain is more powerful, but can't do much when he's stuck in Tartarus Rire is less powerful but has much more freedom of movement

Cain likes to play the long game, seducing victims with romance before going sadistic on them Rire is a busy demon; he likes to have fun but needs that soul sooner rather than later

Cain plans long elaborate dates because he's bored and reads too many romance novels Rire's plans are short and brutal, he does what he wants and that's it

Cain loves humans and wants to savor their reactions and emotions Rire hates humans and treats them like disposable toys

Cain is more interested in pain than sex, he won't rape a victim unless he really likes them Rire likes sex lmao. its a power rush for him and it feels good I hope my ramblings make sense lol

[sweatinghoneybee]

Drew out what Glowburst would look like in the fic! Since there hasn’t been any concept art on what Glowburst looks like i’d like to take a crack on what she would probably look like by the little description that we do get of her!

I drew out her past, present and future looks cause since it’s confirmed that Glowburst looks differently from what she looks at present time at the fic and a future look cause i feel like it’s all set and done when she has her family whole again after reuniting with sire again, she’ll have a healing arc where she’s taking herself and gets to spend some quality family time. Even tho there’s a hint that she’s gonna die, but for now i’m gonna be an optimist and just hope that MC will not be tortured by the plot traumas of the future (i know this is in vain but a girl can only wish ok!!)

But disclaimer tho, some of the things i put on Glowburst’s design is sort of headcanons from me with the ideas i come up with the things that are hinted about Glowburst and hasn’t been said yet in the fic, so no one better tell me that i’m off track when future chapters are added cause this design is just what i THINK she’d look like not what she DOES look like at the moment! And I’m honestly just having fun with her design kay? Plus i sort of kind of re-using a failed draft of my version of MC when she got older.

I mostly start with the present one since we got a description from ms.seacucumber that Glowburst looks old and that her paint is faded and since it’s said by MC that she looks like her carrier i got a pretty good draft on what she’d probably look like. I tried to base her off of MC but with slight differences since the sire’s genetic also got inherited so i didn’t want MC and GB to look too similar, and also i sorta made her look like she’s covered up cause i feel like the modification that got hinted in the new chapter 23 would be put over her past armor somewhat like trying to contain the fire in Glowburst to prevent it from well, bursting. And sorta like a symbolism that she’s being constrained and forced to being something she’s not. Also little funny reason on her color picking, i got the idea from A.B.A’s new design in guilty gear where there’s like a theory of sort that her hair is made of copper and that’s why her red hair is now greenish blue because of time and the other theory that it’s because A.B.A tried to dye her hair but ended up coloring it wrong, and since it’s confirmed by Spring that Glowburst has ember color scheme in her past and ember has reds in them i just roled with that color idea. Tho i wonder if i put enough greenishnest in the fading blue paint tho. . . . ? Maybe i’ll meke it more greenish in the future with the blue. . .

And with the present done it’s easy to think of past and future since i just need to branch it out. The reason why I thought of 80s type of inspiration for the past look cause of the description of Glowburst being old and since transformers has already existed since the 80s, I thought that it’ll be a good fit! Tho also fun fact, to get some some ideas on 80s look i looked up 80s cartoons and one of the cartoons that i found on that 80s cartoon list is Jem and the holograms, and i was like “hey MC likes to sing, that could be a good inspiration fit for her mama!”. Also i just really want an 80s based look for Glowburst cause i wanted to give her the poofiest big bursting flames ponytail like those poofy hairs back in the 80s that were popular at that time! And come on her name is Glowburst! Her flames gotta be “bursting” from those “glowing” hues of flames of her’s!!

And the future look i just sort of mismatched both the past and present look since i feel like Glowburst would definitely want to look like back when she was in her past look but with how she’s grown she’s now matured better then her past, and hey blue ain’t a bad color for her just that she never took care of herself that she pretty much neglected her paint till it’s faded so i thought a more vibrant color of the blue symbolizes that she’s now healing since she’ll maybe reunited with her conjunx and now has met Nebula plus having grandkids so she’s a happy elderly now! Also i thought of Glowburst getting accesories that MC made since i thought that Glowburst would love to experiment with her looks plus 80s have some over the top exaggerated accesories so why not? Plus the transformation that i saw with the femmes in G1, their vehicle modes usually only have their chest and thigh parts showing on the outside so i believe that the accesories could work! Plus i mean there’s no way they haven’t figured out how to make accesories right? They already figured out spacebridge portals to teleport them threw galaxies and even multiverses but they couldn’t figure out how to make accesories for fun?

I’ll probably update on her design in the future cause i feel like Glowburst looks will be described more and who knows maybe i can add alittle more things in her design or just feels like that something could suit her more! This was a fun challenge tho, can’t wait to see what sire would look like so that i can make a draft blueprint for him too!

X - X - X - X - X

If anyone is curious and wants to read the fanfic that i’ve been rambling above on the fanart i made, here’s the link to the fic made by a lovely friend of mine!

Spring (the author) works hard to make this lovely work of theirs so please give them some love kay! They’ve been really sweet to answer my questions on what Glowburst looks like and oh darn are they just so sweetly patient with me cause i wanted to not miss a detail of Glowburst’s design since this is an old oc she made that she hasn’t even drawn yet so i wanted to give her design the justice it deserves!! Man can’t wait when Glowburst’s mystery gets revealed along with her conjunx!! I’m so excited!!

[xanasaurusrex]

Ohh I see! I’ve just read the Athena one and it’s awesome! Uhmmm could u do the ephestus one next? Is he a main one? Idk tbh. Cause i don’t wanna like request Eros who’s minor cause yk ur order and sum but ephestus would be fun! (Sorry if the name’s wrong… I ain’t English native an dim not sure about the spelling, sorry). Have a lovely day and again: love the Athena cabin!❤️‍🔥

⇢ ˗ˏˋ hephaestus cabin headcanons ࿐ྂ

hi!! i think you meant hephaestus, and of course i can do that! if you want to request eros or any other minor god, go for it! and thank you so much for the love on the athena cabin hcs, they were so much fun! have a great day, and thank you for the request love! <333

so hephaestus kids are cool but kinda chaotic

their minds run a mile a minute

they always have new ideas for things to make on their mind, and things to invent

they just always have a lot of ideas

hephaestus kids do very good in prank wars, because they're very good at rigging up things like buckets of water falling on you when you open a door

another one of their favorite pranks is putting a mento in the cap of a coke and then attaching a string, so that when you open it, the mento falls into the coke and does the foamy thing

so moral of the story, if you can, avoid getting into a prank war with a hephaestus kid

hephaestus kids also come up with the best nicknames for people

a hephaestus kid will spend some time with you, gauge your personality and the things you do, and then they give you a nickname

it's rarely ever a malicious one (or you're a mean person, then you get a bad nickname), it's usually one that fits you that you actually really like

so in my athena cabin hcs i said that they expanded the arts and crafts area, and yes, athena kids are the ones who frequent this area the most, but you'd better believe hephaestus kids are hanging around there as well

they love making things with their hands, and even though they specialize when it comes to mechanical things and working with metal, every one in a while they want to make a pipe cleaner butterfly

beckendorf was really good at origami butterflies

so after they died, everyone made an origami butterfly, and they put a framed picture of him up on the wall, and then surrounded it with origami butterflies (rip)

anyways, moving on

the hephaestus cabin is always just about a bajillion degrees

IT IS ALWAYS SO HOT IN THERE

and even though not all hephaestus kids have the fire power that leo does, they are all less susceptible to heat

i mean, they have to be around heat a lot when they're forging weapons, so naturally, it doesn't affect them as much as it affects others

literally, if you have a friend and the two of you want to hangout, you will literally never be hanging out in the hephaestus cabin, because you will literally melt

(not literally, but you'll just be sweating like a pig the whole time)

hephaestus kids also always make the best marshmallows at the campfire

i mean, come on

they forge amazing weapons, and work with fire on practically a daily basis, of course they roast the perfect marshmallow

if you have a very specific amount of roasted-ness in mind, just tell a hephaestus kid, and there you go, your perfect mallow

the hephaestus cabin also has quite a few retro items, such as cd players and record players

but they're not... exactly like they should be

hephaestus kids like to take these older items and make them more usable and modern

so there are some funky looking record players in the hephaestus cabin

they just like experimenting on things like that

the hephaestus kids also set up a sort of PA system for the camp

this was sanctioned by chiron, but they don't really listen to what he says about it

they play a lot of music, and yes, they do announce things, but there's often some comedy thrown in there

hephaestus kids are actually really funny

like they could honestly be full on comedians

they just have a sort of dry sense of humor, and really good timing, which is like half of being funny

hephaestus kids are also all really close

like when you're a hephaestus kid, your best friends are your siblings that you live with in your cabin

there are always a few typical older siblings that are the oldest in the cabin, usually the head camper of that cabin and a few others that you always know you can go to when you need it

hephaestus kids are also have the least drama

i mean, camp half-blood is filled with teenagers going through puberty, having first crushes and first relationships, that kinda stuff

of course there's gonna be drama

the hephaestus kids just somehow have less

this is partially because they always find themselves focused on things other than who kissed who and who cheated on who and why they did what

they have armor and weapons to make, dude, they can't be focused on that

that's not to say that there isn't drama with hephaestus kids, it's just a lot less common

and whenever you hear something regarding a hephaestus kid in drama, you kinda are taken aback and are like... wait what?

most hephaestus kids' love language is gift giving, and that mostly consists of things made by said hephaestus kid

like, oh you mentioned you wanted to start wearing rings more?

for your birthday, you find a package of like fifty, all different and interesting and unique, with perfect craftsmanship with the name of a hephaestus kid on it

sometimes they collaborate with the hecate kids to put crystals in the jewelry they make (because of course they make jewelry

hephaestus kids are almost never seen not wearing at least one piece of jewelry, made by themselves or their siblings

one head camper of hephaestus cabin like a decade ago taught themselves how to give piercings, and now every head hephaestus camper knows how to give piercings

obviously no hephaestus kid is forced to get a piercing, but most of them are

most of them have their ears pierced at the very least, but it's not uncommon to see a few people with snake bites floating around

chiron, the most innocent ever, has no idea where people are getting pierced, and has asked around, but nobody wants to rat out hephaestus cabin, because it's really convenient

idk i kinda imagine hephaestus kids as a little bit alt

that's all i have for hephaestus cabin headcanons! this was honestly a little bit difficult for me, and honestly i cannot tell you why. i do think these are all pretty good headcanons though, and just because it was kinda hard doesn't mean i didn't love it! (that's what she said) these were really fun, and i can't wait to get to work on the other cabin hcs i have sitting in my requests! thanks so much for reading, i love you all!! <3333

[onelastchorus]

fontaine character speculations

partly headcanon, partly predictions and also a third, secret thing

lyney

absolutely unpredictable

obvious has some plots and ulterior motives up his sleeve (i suspect some sort of resistance against the hydro archon and the imbalance of power and wealth in fontaine. he is an orphan after all.)

speaking of being an orphan, i don't think his relation with arlecchino is quite what people seem to be theorizing it is. i don't think taking down focalors is the goal of the harbinger, not really. she might want to weaken the power source of the court to easily take the gnosis, but i don't think lyney is directly reporting to her on his plans.

lynette

ominous as fuck

definitely the intel source of the group

freminet

someone call matpat that is a robot kid /hj

doesn't have the same hatred towards the hierarchy of the city, and doesn't really care about the political matters. looks like the twins protected their baby brother a bit too much to be able to convince him to join their cause

navia

mary poppins inspired

rich and powerful, upper class/noble type of the city

is a powerful benefactor to a revolution brewing

genuine, but intelligent. does everything with a purpose. has accrued many contacts over the years. we will probably return to her many times post fontaine storyline for events and quests

charlotte

ambitious. comes from a working class, and wants her journalism to take her out of that position

a very good investigator, but not discreet in the slightest

wriothesley

deals with an universe equivalent of advanced stage glaucoma. his particular case mostly results in color-blindness, chronic headaches and blind spots (mostly in his peripheral vision)

a rare uncorrupt power in fontaine. a fair and unbiased warden

literature and arts nerd

clorinde

not malicious but certainly not the kojou sara equivalent some people are expecting

sees battle as an art form

very straight laced, one of the people we will see most aligned with the court

focalors

bitch <3

neuvillette

one of the playable oldest characters in the game yet (alongside ayato and baizhu.) late 30s or older

ohh definitely a bit of a villian.. don't think he quite likes focalors

vishap (duh.)

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Hey, it's been awhile!

So, I don't know if you know about the Disney Villain Recruiters. You might have heard some whispers about them if you've been in the twst fandom long enough. They're a very niche part of Disney Japan, so don't be surprised if you don't know them. They're basically minions of disney villains turned human in order to recruit new minions during Halloween at Tokyo DisneySea. There are a number of videos of them on YouTube (I recommend dahjEt_'s channel)You can find out more about them here: Disney Villain Recruiters: An Introduction

And this is pic of them:

I was just thinking recently about how they would approach Yuu and the shipping war within the House of Mouse.

People in the fandom pretty much agree that Jack Heart is Ace's older brother. Jack teases Ace a lot about being so far behind in the shipping race despite being Yuu's best friend. He's on the RiddleYuu ship his Queen and all of Wonderland, but he secretly ships his brother with Yuu.

Eight Foot Joe totally sympathizes with Yuu's situation being overworked by Crowley as he himself is overworked by Ursula. Joe is secretly a Chad, just a tired Chad. He gives some pretty good advice to Azul on how to woo Yuu.

Veil on the other hand gives pretty bad advice to Rollo about how to pursue Yuu. Farja is also enthusiastically shipping JamilYuu

Apple Poison, aka tall Apple Boi, and Lady Hock have soft spots for Yuu in spite of their stoicism. They don't care much for the shipping war, but they're protective of Yuu.

Mr. Dalmatia and Pretty Scar are pretty much like the animal children when it comes to protecting Yuu. They're both like the "Get you dog" vine. In fact, I actually did an animation of them a little while ago. You might have to scroll down a little to see the video: https://www.tumblr.com/tickledpink31/720236920779800576/bio?source=share

Hi! It has been a while - how have you been? I hope you're all good.

So I have heard a thing or two about the Villain Recruiters - like I saw a post with a picture of them in a Disney Villain blog once but I have no idea who they are but now hearing about their job - wow the idea is absolutely fantastic and would totally get me to join the dark side!

I have a soft spot for the villainous henchmen so I can imagine the sort of shenanigans they would get into with their animal counterparts - Eight Foot Joe mucking about with Flotsam and Jetsam, Malfie and Diablo side-eyeing each other whenever the goblins mess up because they are the only competent henchmen there, the list goes on...

Also I just want to say that I absolutely love your art - the drawings? excellent. the video? phenomenal.

I lowkey think that this would cause a smaller war between henchmen over who Yuu's favourite 'older brother/sister' is.

I also have the mental picture of Yuu being a precious smiling sunshine girl and then you have the NRC boys and Disney Villains as dark shadows looming behind her, their eyes promising a tortuous death to anyone that looks at her.

Personally, I don't really understand the Jack as Ace's brother thing since he seems to work directly under the Queen, who had long since passed since passed before Ace was even born (also isn't Ace supposed to also represent the Jack of Hearts since he steals the Queen's tarts just like the Knave of Hearts (otherwise known as the Jack) did in the poem/book?) - but then again I consider Maleficent to be Malleus' grandmother even though that's completely impossible so I'll let it slide. Plus it makes Ace's behaviour towards Riddle and the Queen's rules even more hilarious if you consider his brother is one of the people who enforces them. Just wait until Riddle finds out - he'll have a conniption!

I don't really know enough about them to write anything more specific but the idea sounds awesome!

[mxboxlocks]

Just wanted to drop an ask to see if you are willing to drop Wilson au lore 👁️ or the higgsbury siblings aus? it's chill if not I was just very interested in the recent art post you made,,,,

ohohohoho my dear anon i am always willing to drop lore

i'll do a higgsbury sibs loredump first, because i'd need a specific au to blabber about, lest the post be eight miles do-you-like-the-color-of-the-sky lookin ahh long.

i'll be using a bit of older art for this because i havent drawn them in a LONG time. (specifically Riley and Amelia's designs are outdated) but i'll be talking about the whole higgsbury family! how fun!

it all starts with a decently well-renowned german scientist and professor, and a big band singer from cali.

meet Arthur Lewis Higgsbury. a rough, calculated man with a thick german accent, and an impressive travel record. Arthur is an engineer, he worked tirelessly for around 10 years to bring about a draft of the computer. none of them worked, of course. that wouldn't happen until 1940 in japan, but i'm getting off track. he was often invited to speak at colleges because of his work. in one such instance, he stayed in San Francisco and just so decided he'd attend a show held by one Loraine "Lady Bird" Torres.

Loraine Torres, soon to become Loraine Higgsbury, was a big band singer and pretty damn good vocalist. she loved everything musical, jazz, art, and typically not-very-scientific-things. Arthur didn't mind all that, though, he was completely smitten.

long story short, Loraine convinced Arthur to move to america, where he lived with her in a pretty lavish lifestyle due to both of their incomes (they even have a nanny!). they had three children together; Riley, who was not planned for, Wilson, who was, and Amelia, who also was.

Very shortly after Amelia's birth, and Loraine's recovery from such, she wanted to get back into the singing business, and Arthur was fully supportive. in April of 1906, she's supposed to provide music for the intermissions between some guy named The Amazing Maxwell's act.

The San Francisco earthquake ensures she never makes it back home.

Arthur, completely devastated by this, nearly completely shuts himself off from his children. this of course affects them all in different ways.

starting with Riley, the oldest.

Riley! he's the nervous one.

Riley grows up to be a neurotic golden-child oldest sibling type of person. He has a love for reptiles and anything cold-blooded, and uses this love (and Arthur's harsh insistence) to fuel his ambition to be a reptilian biologist. he's often put in charge of keeping the family in line, however, his rampant anxiety gets in the way of being able to do a good job at it.

he owns several species of snake, a few spiders, an army of geckos, and an axolotl named Bessie.

as of the time of Wilson's disappearance, he's 38 years old.

next, is the boy you all know and love!

Wilson Percival Higgsbury! magnificent beard-grower, man of curiosity, and family disappointment.

out of all his children, Arthur was the hardest on Wilson. he would say he was squandering his gifts, his intelligence. at some point in his youth, Wilson tried to join a theater program. Arthur was not pleased by this.

of course, Wilson always had a fascination with all things science. chemistry, namely, but astronomy, botany to a mild extent, biology, he never could just pick one. so this caused Wilson to be sort of idle in his exploration of his passion, at least in his father's eyes.

after the whole college chemistry lab incident, as said in the last post, Wilson moved away practically overnight. Riley tried to get him to stay because "we need to take care of father", but just didn't quite understand why he was so upset. Amelia bid him a friendly "good riddance, traitor" and never spoke to him again.

at the time of his disappearance, Wilson was 31 years old. presently, he's somewhere between 31 and 34, due to the Constant's time fuckery. he settles on 32.

next, the firey hot-headed youngest sister,

Amelia. she's as friendly as she looks!

Amelia is quite the daddy's girl. she's constantly narcing on her brothers, keeping them in line, and seeking Arthur's approval. to which she recieves very little.

Amelia goes on to be an english major, which she... fucking hates. her true passion is forensics, true crime as it would be called today, that sort of thing. she's fascinated by death. which makes Wilson's disappearance all the more hard on her.

she truly loves her brothers, and Wilson, despite her general brattiness, had been there for her when no one else was. the two were close despite their bickering and fighting. she desperately tries to search for him for years, but to no avail.

at the time of Wilson's disappearance, she is 26 years old.

little bits of trivia time!!!

Riley and Amelia both have natrually oddly-shaped hair. Wilson's hair naturally looks more like his father's, but he's been styling it so long that it's stuck the way that it is.

the family's nanny did Wilson's hair. she also taught him a little bit of German.

Riley considers Wilson to be his more confident other-half.

Amelia is intentionally designed to bear a resemblance to Willow.

Despite Wilson's harsh exodus from the family, he's not the odd one out, just the most extreme one. Riley occasionally eats crickets - as an adult - to feel closer to his lizards. Amelia once camped outside her professor's house for three days begging for her grade to be changed, and she eventually got arrested for it. none of them are normal.

Riley's favorite food is Macaroni Casserole "the way Mom used to make it", and Amelia's is french onion soup, specifically because she thinks that because it has french in the name, that makes her fancy.

Arthur doesn't hate his children, but they do remind him deeply of his late wife, and often can't stand to make eye contact with them.

Wilson strictly calls Arthur "father", where as the other siblings call him some variation of "dad". Riley only calls Arthur "father" when he's speaking about him as an authority.

None of the siblings are allowed to speak about Loraine while they're "living under [Arthur's] roof". Amelia has a secret photograph she stole off the wall of her mother.

Wilson, due to trauma, hardly remembers any of his school years, his mother's face, or his nanny's voice. the last one he curses himself for a lot. he also doesn't know that Loraine was a singer.

Loraine was a big fan of Wigfrid's shows. she owned a replica of her helmet.

[thewallsaretalking-again]

you know what?? Fuck it, there's something I've GOTTA talk about:

(don't worry this isn't like a serious post or anything. also its gonna be really badly written with grammar errors because I'm just really excited to finally be talking about this and I'm shaking like a leaf) (also, if you don't agree with this that is completely fine; everybody ships different ships, this is just one that I personally love and me explaining how it came to be and how I image it. I'm not trying to convince anybody of anything, this is just for fun. If you don't like, that's fine! All I ask is that there is no hate and that you just move on. Thank you!)

I love rairpairs. Like, LOVE them. Anyone who's seen my old transformers art knows that I ship DreadOp which is like, a nonexistent ship. like, the ship equivalent of being an endangered species (there's like 10 fics about it on AO3, so you KNOW it's rare). There's a few examples of me being like this but this is the best example that i have.

But this has gotten to the point where i have done something absolutely ridiculous: I have created an entirely new ship- no, TWO entirely new ships (I'm only going to be focusing on one rn). AND I'VE GOTTA TALK ABOUT THEM because honestly? I love them! so, what monstrosity have I created? Whoo... prepare yourselves (especially you, dark cacao cookie fans...)

Yep. Don't hate me. Please hear me out because honestly iv'e seen more heinous ships in my time on the internet.

so, first of all, the white dude is known as the milk village elder in CRK, and we only see him once in the entire game (that i know of). I love taking npc's and giving them characters, so this is kinda how this happened. I'm gonna start by talking about the milk dude and how i headcannon/ imagine him because it will come into play later.

I gave the milk village elder the name Whole Milk Cookie, because i couldn't exactly call him Milk Cookie; that names already been taken

Whole Milk Cookie isn't actually anyone's grandfather, despite him being called grandad/ grandpappy in the actual game. We never see anyone his age in the milk village, and I like to imagine that its sorta like an honorary title. Like, he acts like everyone's grandpa, so everyone calls him grandpa but no one is actually related to him.

Whole Milk Cookie is like, ungodly sweet. Like, diabetes kind of sweet. its ridiculous. there are only a few ways to get him angry; and trust me, you don't want to...

He's strong. Like, think Hollyberry type strong. Gives the BEST hugs too.

Nobody knows exactly how old he is, but people suspect that he's actually much older than he looks. This could be caused by his extreme talent with the milk that comes from the villages well; if its used right, the milk can cure disease, help pains, or even extend someone's lifespan/ help retain youth. either that or he's some sort of demon but hey, who's counting?

got all that? good. Now the question everybody's asking; why the hell do i ship this? What's the story here? What's the origin? Well hold onto your pants folks because this is where we get into me overanalyzing shit.

behold the line that started it all:

This is so SO vague. why the hell did they put this in here it is SO VAUGE. what does he mean by "THAT king"? you know what it sounds like? someone reminiscing of their time with a loved one who has now changed....

they never elaborate on what exactly this line means and this is the very last line we hear Whole Milk Cookie say in the main story

wondering where exactly he's gone instead of wondering when he's coming back? idk man you sound worried about him...

also saying "laid your eyes upon" just sounds so gay/loving and i don't know why. yeah your laying something thats for sure glfbnvbrfnjkrb (im so sorry)

There's also this line:

The ally thing is kind of given, but why and how isn't this guy talking shit about dark Cacao? Like, he has EVERY right to! but he's not.... its almost like he cares.... and sure he mentions the generation thing but just because your parents were friends with some dude doesn't mean you necessarily like them right? so what gives??

Then there's the matter of Dark Cacao Cookies SON:

who is DArk CHOCOLATE

now Dark Chocolate usually doesn't have any milk/dairy in it, but it DOES need a fat, which whole milk DOES have!!

So, in theory, it would make sense for cacao and milk to make chocolate of some kind, AND it would account for Dark Choco Cookie having a lighter skin tone than his father (lighter eyes and the double white hair streak too)

I also like the story implications outside of cannon:

two people who would generally not be allowed to be in a relationship due to differing status keep a relationship going for years behind the backs of their communities

Dark Cacao Cookie taking full responsibility for taking care of their son, only for everything to become too overwhelming and he begins to remove himself from everything emotionally, wanting to give his son over to his other father to be properly taken care of but can't due to the dangers that poses for everyone in his family

Dark Choco nearly kills him and Dark Cacao has to exile him and (because of a mix of psychological manipulation, grief, and regret) locks up the citadel, leaving Whole Milk Cookie out of the picture entirely

Whole Milk Cookie stews in anger due to everything that's happened and Dark Cacao cookie not taking proper care of their son but eventually falls into guilt as well because he saw the signs of stress and overworking from his partner and didn't step in, assuming that everything was fine (but is still mostly mad at Cacao because he REALLY fucked up and it's not an excuse)

Gingerbrave and the crew comes strolling up and gets the citadel open, and Dark Cacao admits to Dark Choco that he didn't care enough and that he should have done things differently, and that he loves his son. Dark Choco leaves the cookies of darkness and begins a journey of recovery while Dark Cacao vows to do better for his family and kingdom in the future.

Dark Cacao meets up with Whole Milk Cookie to truly apologize to him, admitting everything he's done wrong and that he should have done far, FAR better. He tells WM that he deserves better than him

Whole Milk is obviously still angry and will never forgive Dark Cacao for what he's done. but he still loves him despite everything and would much rather the two of them work together to fix things (not necessarily romantically, more just not hating each other wise) moving forward instead of breaking things off and stewing in grief and anger.

The two of them take things extremely slow and carefully because it's been a long and difficult process, but they, eventually, get back to where they were.

Their recovery process takes years, but by that point Dark Cacao has improved himself exponentially, wanting nothing but the best for his partner and kingdom (and now knowing exactly what NOT to do) They also eventually find Dark Choco Cookie and fix things with him, but that's a whole other can of worms I'm not going to open here.

Just generally a story of two very different people, who despite goin through unimaginable hardships, do their very best despite the circumstances. they love each other more than even they realize and the fact that they are able to fix what was broken by their own hands is a testament to that, despite all of the arguments and tears along the way.

TLDR: Dark Cacao fucks up, his husband is mad but still loves him because he knows him better than anyone else, Dark Cacao actually makes an effort and succeeds to be much much better, and the two of them eventually figure things out. An unlikely love story :)

Ok, wow, that was a lot and kinda sad. But there are a few thiings that i couldn't fit into the rest of this so imma just stick them here:

Whole Milk Cookie finds Immense joy in picking up his husband and throwing him across his shoulder like some kind of really important sack

Whole Milk calls Dark Cacao "Cacao bean"

Dark Cacao loves Whole Milk Cookies cooking to a stupid extent

Dark Cacao loves playing with his husbands fluffy hair

the two of them will often help each other do their hair because they both just have SO MUCH of it

Dark Cacao, despite popular belief, is a flustered mess around his husband and can very often be found blushing like a madman whenever Whole Milk uses his strength

these two have the ABSOLOUTE WORST bedheads. Like, Cacao HAS to braid his hair before going to bed because otherwise the two of them will wake up tangled in it. And Whole Milk will just have an untamable afro.

uhh anyways. thanks for coming to my ted talk

[wannaeatramyeon]

Okok so I read in another post a hc of all the lookism boys (+ Yenna) living in a house together and i thought what if 👀 there was a den mother of some sort. Like an older little hispanic lady that sees them in her house and just decides that yes these are her kids and she will help them find their way back. Obviously Yenna is her favorite ans she can do no wrong. I haven’t caught up with Lookism completely (just htf and mk) but i feel like the unacknowledged mommy issues have potential. Only if you can of course if this isn’t something you can vibe with i totally get it.

Oh anon, you mean THIS PIECE OF ART from Ying/@mymxnfgh?

Anon, you really asking for WWIII with all these boys vying for your attention huh. Let's give this a go, I think I may be waaaay off the mark.

Lastly, I really wouldn't be able to write hispanic well. British? Yep. East Asian? Sure. So... just casually skipping over this part of the ask.

Lookism Boys living together + vying for your attention dynamics

Platonic. From least chaotic to most. Based on this hc from Ying/@mymxnfgh

Daniel Park and Jay Hong don't really have any mommy issues, so they stay away from the general chaos. They're the 'quiet' ones (especially Jay). You make sure to keep an eye on them so they don't get left out.

Honestly, absolute sweethearts. If you want anything done, then you know you can count on these two. Low-key your faves as they don't cause any headaches.

For Eli, Warren and Yenna, family comes first. And family is Hostel. They're initially guarded, but ultimately they're still children looking after a child. You have a lot of patience for them and take them under your wing, especially Yenna.

You spend a lot of time with Warren trying to help him with his speech, and you absolutely forbid Eli from cutting anyone's hair. You threaten if he so much as touch a hair on Yenna's head then he's dead.

DG is too cool to make any overt bid for your attention. Makes a lot of sly comments to try and sow dissent, but just gets on with his own thing. He gets more enjoyment out of watching the general chaos.

The subtle rivalry of Vasco and Zack would return. Vasco, thinking Zack is a bit of dick, and Zack would of course think of Vasco as an idiot.

Their rivalry is relatively harmless, but causes a lot of headaches day to day. They would fight over washing the dishes, but somehow break everything. Doing the laundry and everything is pink. Cook to impress you but nothing is edible. You appreciate their intentions but your life would be so much easier if they just left it to you.

What can we say about Johan. We all know what this guy would be like. He is THE mommy issues. Jealous that he doesn't get your undivided attention. Clingy and needy, constantly around you. Sulks and throws tantrums if he doesn't get his way. Luckily you have Zack, Jake and Daniel to tell him to be reasonable, and Gun who threatens to beat his childishness out of him.

Having you around as a constant, comforting presence eases Johan's psyche over time. It doesn't completely undo all the hardships but it's healthy for him to realise he has someone there for him.

Goo would absolutely try and pull rank over Samuel over who gets to spend time with you. Sammy is all smiles and 'Yes, Sir" but as soon as Goo turns his back, Sammy would be immediately sucking up to you.

They never seem to fight, but they constantly snipe at each other. The insults escalate from barely veiled to full blown expletives and cursing. It's surprisingly creative. "Samuel it's a good job you killed you dad and he's looking up at you from hell because you are a disappointment." "Goo, the smell of bullshit coming out of your mouth is putting Y/N off their dinner."

(Jake and Gun loves these exchanges)

Jake and Samuel would be politely smiling at each other one moment, and then trying to kill each other the next. It's less to do with you, and more to do with their own brand of communication.

Jake, on his own, you find simply lovely and Samuel has his charms. But together. JFC.

You do try and help them work out their differences. All this mess with Gangsters and Gapryong Kim but turns out that they would fight over anything. Even something as mundane as how to cook something the 'correct' way. It's easier for them to just duke it out. They always make up in the end... but inevitably will be fighting again in the next hour.

Gun and Goo are surprisingly helpful to have around to help keep some of the others in line. And it's not like they really have any mommy issues and they can be respectful.

Peace doesn't last though. They have a short fuse, and will use ANY excuse to fight each other. Jake and Samuel throwing punches is one thing. But you worry about Gun and Goo literally blowing up the house to spite each other.

Of course this is when DG decides to speak up and egg them on.

BONUS - Seo Haesu is the stray scruffy kid that seems to always be hanging around outside. You disapprove of his dirty clothes, his overgrown bangs (No, Eli. No scissors!), and feel bad for how he's constantly hungry. You offer him free meals and somewhere to sleep.

He's wary af as first. Uses the excuse that he wants to suss you out to hang around.

Would get on well with Zack, Goo and Jake. 'Well' might be an exaggeration, but these 3 have teasing big brother vibes. Their lively ways would help to draw Haesu out of his shell... or he might strangle them.