#darn you Mid

[creatorcam]

Oh shoot mid made soop-

Mid By Cc

[shaadowmilkcookie]

One of Shadow Milk’s many prop replicas of himself, left behind. Even though the eyes are forever staring straight into the distance… Oddly enough, you still feel like you’re being watched.

But surely, though, it won’t hurt to take it home and touch up the colours, right? :)

[veveisveryuncool]

Have you considered Kirby wearing a ghost costume before.

I would think it would be super cute

GET GHOST KIRBY'D

[harrietvane]

A thought about the John Wick universe rattling around my head like a bean in a jar:

Everyone who meets john wick is in some ways immediately in love with him. Every movie introduces new characters who greet this isolated, self-contained man (who barely says a word) with gentle joy at their reunion, even if - especially if - they’re there to kill him. Immediate loyalty and affection. Oh John I was so sorry to hear about your recent loss. Even sorrier to have to kill you. No one regrets more than I due to the love and loyalty I bear you. Please, how might I assist you, just say the word. Let me break all the rules just to lay my cloak at your feet. It will blow my entire life up irrevocably to help you - but you do need help and we go way back and you’re looking at me with your big brown eyes, so like I will definitely do that for you baby. More than one enemy pauses mid-fight to allow him a respectful breather, just thrilled to do so. All this while the movie denies us ANY FLASHBACKS AT ALL to his previous encounters with any of these people. Closest we get is the pencil anecdote? I think? A veil has been delicately drawn over his past that inspired such devotion, but as a viewer you are 100% convinced the love is REAL. They do go way back and it must have been quite a time. Even ‘antagonists’ who hold the role of smug pre-dead guy are all ‘oh John you’re just so gosh darn impressive, I tell all my friends about how great you are, genuinely honoured to be murdered by you’. And you know what, that’s fair.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Country Rose 3

Warnings: age gap, power dynamics, creep behaviour, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You go down and find Martha in the kitchen. She smiles so brightly as you appear and offer to help her finish the corn. You can't help a sliver of glumness. Your mother never was so happy to see you. No, it's her disappointment that pushed you accept the job  to move away to the middle of no where. 

The more you think about it, the more you doubt yourself. To what end are you putting yourself through this desolate purgatory. It might be novel and peaceful now but you always tend to grow bored with the familiar. It's the very reason you flunked out of college. You couldn't do the same day over and over.  

"What are we making with the corn?" You ask, hoping the conversation can ease the tension, not just with Martha but in your mind. 

"Oh, I got some potatoes to roast and some beef. Homegrown," she explains, "you do a lotta cookin', sweetheart?" 

"Mostly out of boxes," you laugh, "but I'm willing to learn. How are you roasting the potatoes? Quartered? Sliced?" 

"Oh, you are so darned helpful," she brightens and gently taps your arm, "you can grab the sack just there," she points to the pantry door, "and give em a scrub before you cut em. Anyway you like. I'll pick out some seasonings." 

"Sounds like a plan," you agree. 

You set to work. You haul out the heavy canvas bag with a grunt and barely get it on the counter. Martha hands you a metal strainer, dented from years of use, and you fill it, rinsing the skins in the deep sink. 

"Clark said something about school," Martha says, "you'll learn a lot more out here." 

"Oh, yeah, dropped out," you turn and pick up the knife she set out with the thick board. "You know... just wasn't for me. My mom didn't want me sitting around and to be honest, I hate doing nothing." 

"Lots to do around here," she assures. 

She doesn't seem sad at the statement. She seems excited for your help. You're almost relieved as you expected cow dung and horse flies. 

"I'll be sure to carry my weight," you promise as you start chopping.  

"Mm, how sweet you are," she trills, "I see why Clark brought you here." 

"Uh, yeah, I'd hate to let him down. And it's a far way from home." 

"Why, you're grown. Not really meant to be home, is it? Finding your way like we all do," she hums and fills a pot with water, covering the corn cobs. 

Before she can attempt to lift it, you're at her side, "let me, please." 

"Oh, dang, you are just like, Clark," she mutters  "I'm not out to pasture just yet." 

"I know, but... it's heavy even for me," you assure her and show your effort as you carry the pot to the stove. 

"Mmm, still my house," she frowns and backs up. "Well, when I was your age, me and Jonathan were married for a while. Couple years but... no kids. Not til Clark came along." 

"Oh? How old were you when... when you had him?" You ask out if courtesy. You peek at her. You're not sure of her age and you're not bold enough to guess. Clark has to be at least in his mid-30s. 

"Oh, yes, about his age now," she answers as if reading your mind. "He's mine. Ours. Not by blood. Could never... you know..." she looks grim as she lowers her chin, "all the same, me and Jonathan never saw him as anything but ours." 

"Adopted?" You wonder. 

"Think we were meant to wait for him," she perks up, "anyway, how can I be sad with such a good son? Don't ya think?" 

"Yes, Clark is very nice," you agree. 

"Sweet boy," she preens, "strong, gentle, smart." She clasps her hands together, "I'm sure I don't need to say it." 

"Mm, uh huh," you murmur, not really sure what she means. 

“I know a lovely idea,” she says, “I have the meat marinating so why don’t you take him some of my sun tea? It’s his favourite.” 

“Ah, um, sure, I can do that.” 

“And take your time. You don’t gotta stay inside all day,” she chimes. 

“There’s a pitcher in the fridge. Put some ice in before you rush off. Have some yourself if you like.” 

You take the task as an opportunity to see more of the farm You pour a glass of the dark iced tea and add a few cubes of ice. Martha watches you go with a bright expression that leaves you a bit uneasy. It’s just her way, you guess. Maybe it’s a part of her condition. Clark mentioned she wasn’t quite herself. 

You head out and stop at the top step of the porch. You realise, you don’t know where to look for him. Instead, you look out at the fields and the barn, and the meeting of blue and green off on the horizon. It’s beautiful. You think this is what it feels like to have your breath taken away. 

“Hey,” Clark startles you as he appears. “Dinner already?” 

“Um, just tea, your mom sent it out,” you come down the steps to meet him. His skin glistens in sweat that dampens the edges of his shirt. The fabric clings to the thick muscles beneath.  

“Thanks, you have any?” He accepts the glass and gulps deeply. 

“Not yet, maybe with dinner.” 

“How’s ma doing?” 

“Fine, fine. I’m just helping her. She seems happy.” 

“She would be,” he shrugs, “always wanted a daughter. Spoiled me for sure but I know. She would’ve done well with one.” 

“Yeah, uh, but she loves you.” 

“Well, yeah, but every mother wants a daughter,” he says, “what about you? How are you settling in?” 

“Um, good. It’s... different.” 

“For now,” he says, “but you’ll get used to it.” 

[bbunnyyy]

★ SHINSOU X READER

▻ Summary: You and Shinsou get caught by his mentor. [implied fem reader, aged up characters.]

▻ Fluff, awkward stuff, hope you like it <3

☁ I try to hide it in my face and it don't work, you see through that I just wanna get with you... ☁

A/n: good luck to those of you who have exams!

What is this, a funeral? Play some music: You right by Doja Cat

☀︎

You walked into the lounge behind the staff room to check on Eri. Present Mic being your mentor and Eraserhead being Shinsou's, you both had special privileges. One of them being steaming hot coffee on cold days.

Eri was lying on her tummy on the floor, colouring with pastels. "[Onee/ Onii] -san, you're back!" she exclaimed joyfully, jumping into your arms. You chuckled, catching the small child and encasing her in your arms. Eraserhead had put you on Eri-watch duty since he'd be busy for the rest of the evening. "Look! Look! I drew Papa Mic and Dada holding hands in front of their house and You and Onii san holding hands in the yard!" Eri showed you excitedly. "You're so good at drawing, Eri-chan!" You exclaimed while kneeling down to the now beaming girl's level. "Wait a minu- Why are me and Shinsou holding hands??"

"Mmm. Very interesting." A voice came from behind you, which you responded to with a squeak. Eri ran into the Shinsou's arms, the artwork now forgotten. "Shin! Don't scare us like that." You said while telling him off. "Oh, boo hoo. I can't help that you're a scardey cat." Shinsou said, rolling his eyes and walking towards the sofa. "You sneak up behind a person and then make fun of them for being surprised? What a bleak time to live in." You tutted, shaking your head sarcastically. "Enough bickering, Y/N. There are more important matters at hand, like watching Cinderella." Eri cheered happily as you sat on the couch, Shinsou starting the movie. Eri cuddled into you as she sang along to the songs, having watched the movie before.

"I'll head to the vending machine, Do you guys want anything?" You piped up, feeling thirsty. Eri, absorbed in the movie with her mouth agape shook her head half-mindedly. Standing up, you made your way to the corridor. Looking out the windows, you saw the trees gently swaying in the wind, highlights of the golden sunlight illuminating the bark. It was almost sundown, you thought to yourself. Sensei would be back soon. Standing in front of the machine, you kicked it. The darn thing was acting up again. Your head turned at hearing soft footsteps from the other side of the corridor. It was the purple-haired idiot dragging his feet along the floor, yawning while rubbing the back of his head. "Eri's asleep so I thought I'd give you some company." Shinsou said, mid-yawn. "Hmph. Like I'd savour your company." You stated, pursing your lips.

Shinsou backed you into the wall. "Speak up, pretty girl." Shinsou smirked while looking into your eyes. Smirking yourself, "In simpler words your pea brain can understand- you're boring." Tilting his head, Shinsou closed the gap between you two. "That's not what you were saying last night." He said, now nipping at your neck. "We should stop Shin, we need to get back to Eri-chan." You two jumped away from each other when a loud yawn interrupted your moment, the both of you looking in the direction of the disturbance. Eri was walking towards you two, sleepily rubbing her eyes. "The movie's almost oveer.." Eri wailed, putting her hands up wanting to be picked up. Big bro Shinsou swooped in, picking her off her feet.

☾

Shinsou put a cranky Eri to sleep as you stood leaning on one of the desks while looking at the now-black sky through the huge windows. You yawned, feeling sluggish yourself. You made a mental note of the things you'd have to do when you got back to the dorms. Rubbing your eyes, you looked at Shinsou who was now walking towards you. He stretched his arm to reach behind you, turning the lights down to dim the room. Your eyes wandered the room, falling on Eri, whose chest rose and fell as she breathed softly. Shinsou moved to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your hips and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. His hands snaked up to your back as you held him close, wordlessly. "Tired?" You chuckled, running your hands through his hair to comfort him. "I think I should change my name to Mr.Eyebags at this point." Shinsou joked, his hands now roaming your body.

You let out a gasp as your body made a 'thud' sound as it came into contact with the desk. Your hands were above your head, held firmly in place by Shinsou's muscular arms. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, whining about how Eri was in the room and how Aizawa Sensei would be back any moment. Shinsou hunched over you, shushing you by placing a slender finger on your pouty lips. Not wanting to look at him, you turned your head in rebellion. "Oh, is that how you're going to play princess?" Shinsou said, pinning you down with one hand. Shinsou tickled your tummy and you resisted your very best from giving in laughing. You burst into a fit of giggles along with him just when you heard someone clearing their throat as the lights in the room flickered on.

Shinsou widened his eyes. "S..Sensei." Shinsou stuttered, trying to explain himself. You sat up, mortified. "Shinsou. Y/N." Aizawa said, pressing his temples. "How long has this been going on?" Aizawa questioned you both shifted your weight from one foot to another awkwardly. "A couple months." You piped up, your gaze falling to the floor. "We weren't gonna keep it a secret forever." Shinsou said, walking over to you. Aizawa shook his head. "I'm not saying I'm against it." Aizawa stated, now looking at you both. The silence in the room was loud, the three of you staring at each other. "....Is Yamada Sensei going to hear about this?" You questioned, wishing you could be buried a few thousand feet under the ground. "You bet." Aizawa shrugged, turning on his heel to walk towards the sofa. "Set a good example for your younger sister." Aizawa said, side-eyeing you both while picking up Eri who was still asleep.

Shinsou and You stood in silence for a while after Aizawa stepped out the room. "Wanna walk back to the dorms together?" Shinsou proposed, resting his hand on the small of your back. You nodded. "Sensei is never going to let go of this." You groaned, imaging the amount of teasing you'd have to endure from your mentor and Aizawa Sensei. "Good thing we're graduating soon, eh?" Shinsou said, poking your stomach with his elbow.

[seivsite]

BOOPING THEIR NOSES .ᐟ

includes: ( separated ) blade, dan heng, jing yuan, kafka, jingliu, himeko x gn!reader, jing yuan calls u wifey / hubby, ooc, established relationships — wc: 792

BLADE

Blade’s mind had been wandering for a while, lost in deep contemplation that had whisked him away from the present moment. Unbeknownst to him, his thoughts had consumed him entirely.

But then, out of the blue, you playfully tapped his nose with a gentle ‘boop!’ It was as if you had conjured a magical spell to bring him back to reality. “What’s that for?” he queried, arms now crossed tightly against his chest.

With a mischievous grin, you simply replied, “You appeared lost in thought for an eternity, so I felt compelled to rescue you!~”

“With a boop? Really, are you a child?” he chided, ruffling your hair before sauntering away.

“H-hey! My beautiful hair!” you cried, feigning despair as your locks tumbled in disarray.

DAN HENG IL

Dan Heng had been engrossed in a book for the past few hours, leaning against a tree while you dozed off on his lap, snuggled up against his tail. Lost in the world of words, he hadn’t realised you had woken up until you playfully booped his nose.

Startled, he closed the book and met your teasing grin, following the path of your finger that had just touched his nose.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked, gently patting your head.

You hummed in disagreement, shaking your head from side to side. Then, your finger rose once more, ready for another playful ‘boop!’ as you giggled at the bewildered expression on his face.

“Well, aren’t you having fun?” he teased, pulling you up to rest against his chest while his tail lovingly wrapped around your form. Finally, he sealed the moment with a sweet kiss.

JING YUAN

As Jing Yuan dozed off on your lap, you tenderly ran your fingers through his hair, savouring the tranquillity that enveloped his face. Unlike his usual guarded demeanour as a general, in your presence, he seemed to let his defences down.

Unable to resist, you playfully booped his nose, softly murmuring a quiet ‘boop.’ Jing Yuan couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his lips. Startled by his reaction, you flinched, your hand frozen in mid-air near his face. Sensing your surprise, he took your hand and pressed a gentle kiss upon it, before speaking, “Glad to see you’re enjoying this, (lǎo pó / lǎo gōng)?”

Realising what he had just called you, you blushed, hastily covering your face with your hands. His laughter filled the air as he sat up from your lap, gently removing your hands from your face, and teasingly placing a kiss on the corner of your lips.

JINGLIU

“Boop.” you playfully declared, gently tapping Jingliu’s nose with your finger. Her eyes widened in surprise, curiosity gleaming within them as she questioned, “What’s the meaning behind this gesture?”

“I simply wanted to witness your reaction!” you exclaimed, your smile brimming with innocence.

“I hate it,” she began, noticing how your face deflated in sadness. But before she could continue, she saw your eyes light up with anticipation. “Do it again,” she said, closing her eyes shyly, crossing her arms, and waiting.

In a burst of joy, you squealed happily, unable to contain your excitement as you booped her nose once more. Jingliu caught you in her arms, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from your face before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

KAFKA

“Kafka~” you called out, leaning over her shoulder with your hands playfully concealed behind your back.

“Hmm? What is it, darling?” she asked, her gaze still fixated on the script before her. But the sudden sensation of your finger on her nose, followed by a small ‘boop!’ made her turn her head towards you.

“My, my, aren’t you feeling playful today~” she remarked, gently holding your cheek before placing a tender kiss upon it.

“Hmm, I’ve missed you. Elio keeps whisking you away for his darn scripts,” you whined, embracing her closely.

“Well, I suppose I could have a word with him, ask him for a break, my dear,” she mused aloud, feeling the nodding of your head against her shoulder. “Looks like I’ll have to pay him a visit later.”

HIMEKO

Himeko was in the midst of brewing her morning coffee, letting out a small yawn as she had just woken up. Oblivious to your presence behind her, you gently tapped her shoulder, causing her to turn around. Just as she faced you, she felt a playful tap on her nose.

“Boop! Gotcha!” you exclaimed, winking and sending her a playful smile.

“Oh my, you startled me, sweetheart. Boop~” Himeko booped your nose in return, surprising you and causing a slight blush to grace her cheeks.

She couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction before preparing your favourite drink alongside her coffee, inviting you to enjoy the morning together.

NOTES. i feel like some of them are ooc but i tried my best lol PLS CHECK MY POLY RENHENG FIC I WORKED RLY HARD ON IT ㅠㅠㅠ

TAG LIST. @yanqingisim

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

[loveinhawkins]

passing period

ao3 written for @steddiemicrofic May 2024 prompt, “top,” 510 words. Rated G, Missing Scene, post season 1, cw: brief mentions of nausea & vomiting.

The sleepless nights catch up with Steve eventually. He doesn’t know what pushes him over the edge exactly—whether it’s the brightness of the hallway, or even the movement of his bag, the strap rubbing against the bare skin of his shoulder—just knows that he’s tilting suddenly, mid-step.

Before he can slam against the lockers, he feels a hand around his forearm, a quiet, “Bathroom?”

Steve nods through clenched teeth.

He flings his bag off just in time as he’s steered into a stall—promptly throws up into the toilet.

It’s over in what feels like a blink; more time must’ve passed though, because the usual chatter in between classes has faded away.

Over the flush of the toilet, Steve hears a voice outside the stall, “You contagious, Harrington?”

Steve rubs one eye. “No,” he says curtly.

“Darn. Was hoping for a ticket outta class.”

Steve opens the door to find Eddie Munson leaning by the sinks. He’s got Steve’s bag slung over his shoulder, safe from the clinging damp of the tiles.

“Dude, you’re gonna be so late.”

Eddie checks his watch lazily. “Nah, I like a dramatic entrance. Always fun watching the light leave O’Donnell’s eyes.”

“Doesn’t she, like, take marks off for shit like that?” Steve says passively, washing his hands—it just seems like the kind of thing to ask, especially since most seniors have been hurrying around all December, faces pinched with stress.

Evidently not Eddie Munson.

“Yeah, don’t think that’d make a difference,” he says, and maybe the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Not exactly top of the class.”

Steve shrugs in vague acknowledgement. Briefly presses his palms to his eyes, blessedly cool from the water—doesn’t really think anything of it until he drops his hands, sees Eddie just looking at him, a slight crease to his forehead.

Steve feels far too drained to even try and figure out whatever he’s noticed.

“You okay?” Eddie asks quietly.

Steve doesn’t know what to do with the question, too bare in its sincerity; there’s no expected space for him to make a quip back, to play it off.

“Just tired,” he says, “that’s all.”

“Mm-hmm, that’ll kill ya in the end,” Eddie says, sing-song.

Freak, Steve thinks mildly.

“Hey, uh, who d’you have right now, Harrington?”

Steve has to think about it, his timetable hazy.

“Um… Mundy.”

Eddie makes a face. “My condolences.”

As Steve dries his hands, he hears the rustle of paper, a quick pen scrawl.

“Here,” Eddie says.

Steve turns. Eddie’s holding out his bag to him; Steve takes it, before being handed something else: a hall pass bearing a convincing copy of Mundy’s signature.

“In case anyone gives you shit. Folks are still kinda, y’know,” Eddie wiggles his hand back and forth, “since the whole Will Byers thing.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I know.” He folds the hall pass. “Um, thanks. How much—?”

But Eddie waves him off. “Nah, that’s your free sample.” He opens the bathroom door, glances back with parting words: “And I’d take full advantage, Harrington. Go home and sleep.”

[slightlypossessed]

Synopsis – Steve let's someone take care of him, for once in his fucking life

Who? – Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

18+ content – MDNI // handjob, thigh riding, marking and kissing.

4.05k – 17 mins

words are lost on him

it's not that there are none coming to mind — they are, they're just not sticking: light flash-bangs that don't last enough to know if he's really seen or imagined them.

the words are too quick for him to grasp onto, nerve endings fried as they spark alight with every stroke of your hand.

The movements you so torturously inflict on him are gentle, yet cruel. ministrations calculated and precise to ensure the most damage to his mind and fragile, vulnerable, state as he lies bare beneath you.

Body bare and soul rested on a silver platter for you, laid prettily at your feat for you to take as much as your heart, and lust, desire.

"Baby..." his whisper is husky, voice wrecked and all scratching-on-metal as he tries not, but fails, to beg.

Cognitive dissonance is a killer thing, Steve decides as you give a particular rough tug to his straining cock, more so than he's realised now that he's in the deep cusps of it. On one hand he's trying to hold himself together, trying to be man — in his mind, he's made to please, to be a caretaker — it's why he puts up with the bloody kids that he knows will make his hair go gret by the time he's 32, it's why he's there after every argument max has with her father, every time dustin feels lonely, every time Lucas has a falling out with the rest of the boys — always there, an invisible hand on the back, guiding, cautious, caring.

And it's why it's typically the other way around with you two than it is now. Steve's gotten comfortable with the unintentional routine: you beneath him, mouth and sex hot as you beg and scratch while he wrecks you piece by piece. He's your boyfriend, he's yours, and it's his job to please you. He's gotta care for you, for your pleasure — because he's your man, and because he goddamn wants to.

But as his darned luck would have it, your hands feel too good on his cock for him to push you away: far too gentle to push him over, but determined to press all the delicate parts of him, your fingers deft and rubbing down the areas you know to be sensitive — just enough times with every stroke to keep him constantly on edge.

He's lost time, how long it's been: maybe five minutes? ten? fifteen? maybe just the one? a torturously slow minute of pure ecstatic and exhilirating agony? He's doesn't know, all he knows is that he's at your mercy to grant him what he most needs.

And right now he needs more of what you're giving, just – god, please, more – enough to quiet the voice in his head telling him he's failing... something. Your pleasure? His supposed boyfriend duty? he doesn't know, but he wants it quiet — you've already told him you want to take care of him.

However long it was ago, his brain is half-mush and he can't quite remember, you took in your arms mid make out session and told him you wanted him, your tone different than every other time you've said those words, your hold on him more tender and enveloping.

"let me take care of you," you'd whispered against his lips, your hands on his chest and steadily caressing lower, "please."

He couldn't say no to you then, can't say no to you ever — his sweet girl, whatever you want, you'd get — and he's decided then that he'll be most compliant for you, he'll relent underneath you as you take care of him, in whatever way you'd wished to do that.

and fuck, he wasn't prepared – doesn't think his brain has relaxed ever since you pushed him against the headboard and straddled his legs and fucking told him to just relax.

How can he? when the prettiest girl he's ever seen is on top of him looking so pretty with earnest eyes tracking every emotion and expression that passes over his face. You're so keen, attention completely tuned in on him.

Nerves firing blast rapidly, blinding white light behind his eyes, whether his eyes are closed or not.

He's not even sure anymore if they're open or closed, there's just glimpses of you, and he's not even sure if his short-circuiting brain is catching up a moment late, doesn't know if by the time he's caught to the beautiful sight of you as you stoke more heat in his belly, he might've already drifted in another mini ecstasy and closed his eyes again.

Fuck, he needs more — he's not sure he can handle it — so much going on in his brain, so much pleasure emitting from your soft hands on his hard cock, but he needs more. Maybe it'll quiet his mind, maybe it'll ramp up the frequency to a million, maybe he'll completely lose it and go insane by your hands — but he craves what you give.

"Please," his voice is foreign to his own ears, broken and pleading. If he were to really think about it, you haven't even done that much to warrant his half-wrecked state. But he's there, and he seems relenting to the idea of you completely breaking him.

Maybe the idea of you taking care of him has done more to him than he thought it would.

A low moan escapes his throat as his hand previously gripping the sheet moves to anchor itself to your hips.

"Fuck," another broken sound, "please, honey, more." He isn't sure more what, faster? harder? both? he just needs your hands on him and to forget all his thoughts before he even has them.

"shh," you soothe as your hand tightens around the tip of him– and by god, you're evil, a wicked little thing— you know he's most sensitive there, and if you'd had any doubts about that, they were now for sure quelled by the debauched moan that escapes his throat. "I've got you, sweetheart, just relax for me."

But he can't relax, oh god, what are you doing to him?

Evil, he's decided.

Heavenly, his heart argues, as you lean down to give him a saccharine kiss on his parted lips, your tongue swirling with his.

Deep down, you're aware that your torturous and slow pace over the last few minutes has built him yet kept him consistently at bay, kept him all achy and squirmy underneath you – all because of you, for you.

He whimpers quietly, the sound low and vulnerable against your lips, and you pull back to hear his sweet sounds better – and immediately he gifts you another desperate sound as he chases your lips.

Usually, hand jobs are quick business in your relationship. Quick things done in foreplay before Steve's putting his tongue on you and making you cum a few times as he gets hard again to fuck you – sometimes he's even pushing your hand off him before he cums, choosing to sink himself deep inside you instead.

But it's been on your mind for a while now, this urge to just take care of him. You're brain constantly wandering to how he'd look like, sound like, if lets himself loose and handed over the reigns of his pleasure to you. He's stretching himself too thin everyday — acting as a brother, a father and a friend to a group of 15-year-old kids united by other-worldly trauma. He's the perfect boyfriend 24/7, small gifts every now and then, dates every week, fucking you silly almost every night – and on top, he's got a full-time nine-to-five.

You want to do something for him, get his mind of off everything for a while. And maybe this opens the door for more later – it's not that Steve doesn't let you take charge often, but even then he's still very much a giver rather than a taker, and this time you want him to just take and be as selfish with you as he'd wish to for once.

And so you stroke him faster in your hand again, your grip tighter this time.

A low groan sounds from his throat when your hand squeezes him at the base. Electric shocks from the centre of him to his brain.

You can't deny him what you want, can't ignore his pleas for more pleasure, not when he's so pretty underneath you, face red and flush, and his hair a mess all over a place with a few strands down his forehead.

Beautiful, in every sense. Debauched facial expression: eyes heavy-lidded and mouth agape, heavy pants in and out.

So pretty, and so you really can't even think to deny him what he aches for. Your hand moves faster without meaning to, just wanting to see more of him in this state. He rewards you with another groan, his hand tightening on your waist.

faster and faster, the sudden change of pace makes his back arch of the headboard bringing his chest closer to yours and he can feel your hardened nipples from beneath your thin shirt. The feel of it makes him shudder and he feels the need to be closer to you.

He can't think to even lift hands to take the shirt you're wearing of you, feel you closer to his skin, his heart – but he can lean his face up towards you and hope you understand his polite request.

And you do, instantly, because you were already halfway down to laying another kiss on his soft, pink lips.

Your lips meet his, gentle and tender as you feel his soft lips between your own. Your hand moves even quicker now, your thumb pressing down on the on spot you know makes him keen — and his reaction is instant. His mouth opens mid-kiss as he moans unabashedly against your lips as you continue to press over that one spot over and over again.

He's going to go insane, by god, you're going to drive him to the crazy house, because the things you're doing to him are effectively frying his brain.

You leave his mouth, and choose to kiss his exposed neck instead.

He's welcoming of it; without meaning to, he tilts his head to give you more access to suck and bite all kinds of marks along his neck – and he'd wear them with pride, let everyone now how good his girl takes care of him, how good she makes him feel. Fuck, he just wants you all around him, your soft lips on his neck and hands on his cock. He can feel your thighs against his, your calves rubbing against his knees – with every brush of your skin against his the fire in his belly grows warmer, moving from his core and spreading to his chest, his head, his limbs – rendering him tingly all over and loose beneath you.

Your hand move down as you caress his balls in slow circles as your other hand moves to continue stroking his cock.

And Steve keens, whimpers uncontrolled rolling out of his lips. And you time your hand encircling and tightening against his taut balls as you bite down on his neck, your lips suck on the tender flesh of his neck, suck and bite on a tender point on his neck.

And Steve? fuck

Steve's mind goes blank.

No thoughts, no words, nothing.

Just pleasure.

White, hot, blinding pleasure.

He feels it deep within him, a feeling like hot, melted honey so visceral it moves along from his center to spread all over him in intense waves.

In a haze, he's aware his thighs have begun to shake, his sartorius muscle clenching and rippling underneath his skin as the feeling begs to claw out of bones and release.

He's keening, hot moans and whimpers flowing through his lips in a steady flow. You can feel the sounds before you hear them, your lips still pressed to the length of throat.

Both of his arms are now gripping your hips hard, urging you closer to him. He wants– no, needs you closer. There's some part kf him that feels like he can't handle anything else, that if you were to repeat the same movements you've just done, of you were to press down on that spot along his tip, he might just go insane. Maybe lose all cognitive ability as your constant infliction of pleasure fries his nerve endings.

But these thoughts don't last, nerves frayed and through barely able to keep grip as your hands continue to jerk him quick8and quicker, unaware of how intensely you've just wrecked him.

— it's quiet and yet he can't think.

"Please," a voice he doesn't even register as his own, "please, baby, I lov- fuck, love you —oh – fuck, oh, honey–"

He's not sure what words he's saying, not even sure if he's speaking or thinking them, but the desired effect comes anyway.

The precum on your fingers help keep your movements quick, and you continue to move your fingers up and down as your other hand massages his balls.

On one particularly hard jerk, his legs twitchs beneath you, resulting in his thigh rubbing hard against your center, brushing your clit the way you've been abstaining of doing for the past god knows how long now.

shit, you might just come from this slight touch. You hadn't even realised how hot and wet you've become over the duration of pleasuring your boyfriend.

He's always been so hot to you (to everyone really, if his reputation so implies), and one look from him would've been enough to have your underwear ruined.

But, god, he's given more than just a look. He's given you his pleasure, his bare form against yours – he's given you his moans and mewls, his vulnerability. He's given you full control over his body and his pleasure – hadn't even tried once to flip you over and switch roles (not that he'd even be able to with how week in the knees you've rendered him)

So, how can you not be all hot and bothered by this? by the lascivious site of him beneath you as he desperate and weak cries fill the room around you?

Without meaning to, your hips rock against his thighs, moving in tandem with the rhythm you've set with your hand against his cock.

The feel of your dripping centre against him weakens him further, his eyes closed and head burying in the pillow. To know that his pleasure affects you that much makes his cock twitch in your fingers, makes his heart swell with an affection that is so foreign to him.

He's felt it before with you, with his tongue on your center and fingers buried deep – he's cum many times as he ate you out, unable to control himself from letting go as your pretty sounds spurred him on.

But it feels weird for the script to flip, for his immense pleasure be reason for your own, even as you remain untouched above him.

Your lips move from one spot on his neck to the other, biting and sucking as you go, feeling the vibrations of his throat down to even your core as you steadily grind yourself back and forth along the thick expanse of his muscular thighs – feeling every bulge of his muscles, every twitch of his form against the folds of your pussy, the curve of your clitoris.

His voice gruff and broken as he whimpers for you.

And despite the oath you took to only focus on him tonight, you can't stop your hips from moving even faster, motivated by lewd noise he makes.

You are human after all, and the intimacy of the atmosphere around you can't be ignored. The sight of his heaving chest gone red from blush of pleasure tempts you to feel him against your skin – to feel more of him as you make him (and yourself) cum.

You can feel it now, the shift in the atmosphere as your fingers keep moving and your hips keep rocking – it's all coming to a crescendo.

Maybe when your done milking him till you're both reasonably satisfied, you'll kiss him stupid as he recovers and then ride him till he's coming inside of you — maybe he'll sound even prettier then, cock deep in your cunt as you bounce up and down the length of him. You'll kiss his pretty neck all over then, too, feel the whimpers as they form his throat and kiss his lips as he moans for you.

or maybe you'll let yourself go now, core molten against his thighs as he cums for you spurt after spurt.

You can already feel yourself growing weak and weightless with euphoria, filled with a fever-like weakness that pulls you lower and lower to the throes of passion.

Before you can register your movements, you're pulling your hands away from Steve and ripping his shirt that still on your body off you.

The moment of reprieve, or perhaps frustration, shocks Steve, and he mewls against your throat for more.

"so close, bab– oh god–" his pleas are cut short as your hands resume their earlier position, moving faster and harsher now, more determined to get him to his high before you lose it yourself.

Your thumb drags over his slit and down to his pleasure points, up and down gripping the base. Up and down and a squeeze to his balls. Faster, gentler, more – Steve can't think, can't hold it together anymore. It's too much, please, oh please– too much yet he needs more, needs that final push to euphoria. Needs it, fuck– wants it and can't take anymore.

You lean down to kiss him on the lips again, and your nipples bush against his chest – the feeling making you both keen against each other. The soft curve of your breasts rubs against the peaks of nipples. Each rock of your hips against his thigh moving your body against him, electrifying touches all over his body and your chest rubs against his.

You bite his lips as you kiss, taking his plush bottom lip between your own and awarding it a slight tug, before letting go and soothing his tender lips with your lips.

You pull back a moment to admire your handiwork. His lips are red and kiss-bruised. His eyes are heavy lidded and you can see the dreamy and half-present look in the crescents of his eyes. He pants against your lips and tilts his head upward to kiss your lips and intertwine your tongue with his own. You watch his eyes fully close before your own do and you kiss him back.

And it appears that Steve's torture has gotten the best of him, because beneath you his chest hitches as his back begins to arch the way it always does before he cums. The sounds escaping his throat and vibrating against your lips are sporadic and disjointed. He's less kissing you now, more letting you kiss and suck at his parted lips.

His muscle tense and twitch against you, and you know all you need to do is just give him a little more, an extra nudge, and he'll topple over.

Your thumb presses against his slit as you jerk him, and your other hand massages and circles his balls just a tad bit harder.

And Steve feels himself fall.

He's not sure if the sounds he hears are his own or yours — pitches and tones melting into one, sounds coming in and out of focus as his eyes roll back and his body breaks out into tremors.

The feeling is intense, hot and burning and too much, spreading from his cock to his guts to his chest and head.

Steve shakes beneath you, body vibrating as shot after shot of hot cum fills your fist and releases over your hands and onto the sheets.

His abdominal muscles twitch as you milk him for all he's worth, your hands continuing to move as he experiences his high. Your hips rock harder and harder against his thighs, clit brushing faster as your wetness soaks his thighs.

You only slow your hand when Steve begins to thrash beneath you, his silent scream turning to aching cries.

"Steve," you moan against his lips as you rock harder, electricity filling you as your head begins to buzz and your eyes roll.

"Fuck," his whisper is quiet and rough with use, "cum for me, baby, come on," his hands, despite weak with euphoria, grip your hips with all his might to help rock your hips faster against him. "cum, honey. I love you– come on."

Steve, despite barely able to even blink his eyes open or keep his head straight, moves a hand to the back of your head to bring you closer, granting you the same intimacy you'd given him for his own orgasm.

He pulls your face to his lips, biting your plush lips in the same manner you did to his lips moments prior.

Despite the fact that Steve's brain is so euphoria-riddled that everything he experiences feels as if through a haze, he's completely and acutely in tune to your pleasure – to the hitch in your throat as your whimpers grow breathier, to the jerk of your hips against him, to how you seem to burrow yourself closer to him as you approach your own high.

Desperate and nerves frazzled to meet your own high, your hand moves to your own centre.

You bow your back as you begin to circle your clit, using Steve's sticky cum to intensify the feeling.

As your hand moves, Steve pulls back from kissing your neck, tilting his head to watch you make yourself cum with his own spend.

"oh, steve– I love you, fuck, baby–gonna cum fo'you," your words are just ramblings, breathless and desperate as you near your high.

A whimper releases from his throat as he watches your fingers circle your clit – one, two, three tugs before your body tips forward, tremors and twitches racking through your body. Your front presses against your boyfriend's chest as soft, gentle pressure fills your core and your body, leaving you weightless and pliant in the aftermath.

Those gentle waves of euphoria render you speechless against Steve, your limbs are jelly as you melt against your lover.

If Steve wasn't so spent, if his head wasn't already far too high in the clouds of venus, he might've gotten hard all over again and fucked the mix of yours and his cum deeper into your cunt.

But that'll wait, maybe a few minutes, or an hour – maybe...

His eyes are already closing.

Bone-deep euphoria induced exhaustion pulls him deep into a restful slumber.

He'll clean you both up later. You know he'll repay the pleasure you've given him with a hundred acts of care and praise. But for now you'll let him pull you down again him, let him bask in the intoxicating feeling of intimacy that comes after your love making. He settles you close, his hips against your own as you lay over like a weighted blanket.

A soft, comforting, supple blanket.

His hands fumble next to him as he reaches for the tissue box on his bedside and hands you one to wipe your fingers, eyes still closed. The rest of you can be cleaned...later, in the shower, or with his tongue; he'll decide later.

Right now, he just needs you against him.

As a final act of love before he's out, his hand moves to the back of your head and kisses your lips one last time, slow and tender, and another against each eyelid, before coming back again to your lips.

"Steve..." you break the kiss to whisper against his lips, "you gotta let me take care of you often." your words barely even a slur. Despite your love-drunk state and sensitivity, you already know that you want a repeat of this night; of the gratifying feeling as you give your lover pleasure.

Before you can respond to his weak chuckle, you're both out like light, his arms wrapped tight against you as yours rest around his neck, keeping him close to you as you bask in the post-euphoria quiet intimacy.

Like it? >> Give this a go

A/N – wasn't really sure how to end this. It's been almost two years since I've written anything at all so it feels great to get back into it. Feel like I've forgotten how to describe things??? but oh well Feedback is always wanted and appreciated

Requests are open <3

[jeonjcngkook]

incandescent | jjk

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre(s)&au(s): fluff, established relationship

rating: pg

wc: 1.3k

warnings: theyre so in love with each other🤭! koos singing voice lulls us all 🤲🏻 makin’ out, playing with koos pretty hair bcs its exactly what he deserves !!!

summary: you and your boyfriend spend a comfortable romantic night in together.

note: unedited. repost bcs the last one stopped showing in tags 🙃.

Is there anything more beautiful than the sound of your boyfriend's voice?

The deep tenors and sweet cadences lull you into a state of calm as you stretch yourself out on the couch below, listening to Jungkook reach the notes in a perfect sequence to the song he is currently singing on his karaoke machine.

Friday nights are typically spent with each other as you participate in different activities. Your relationship's own version of a ‘date night’, you could say. However, this time it had been agreed between you both that staying in and enjoying each other's company in the cosiness of the home you built together was exactly what was needed.

Earlier, Jungkook prepared dinner for you both — a spread on the table of both your favourite foods and glasses of alcohol to wash it down with. Every detail had been carefully thought of, all the way down to the scented candles, that he personally chose to match the fragrances of the food.

Now, with full tummies and even fuller hearts, you both lie within the blanket of reds, blues and greens from the stars of his favourite LED light system and a spread of mandarin & grapefruit scented candles decorating the living room.

You could listen to Jungkook’s voice all day and never be tired of it. The calming effect he has on you with his words alone is something you have always admired. It doesn’t take much for a yawn to slip through his lips, catching the attention from yourself as he continues to sing through the verse of the next song. You watch as he attempts to stifle it underneath his breath, pulling the thin knitted throw up to his face to conceal the motion.

A sweet smirk is on your lips as he continues his lacklustre attempt at concealing his tiredness. Tears cling to his lower lash line from the yawn, head falling to the side and landing on your shoulder.

“You should get some sleep,” you’re quick to say as you feel him wriggle further into your warmth, his hand finding your spare hand that isn’t holding your phone and intertwining his fingers with your own.

“I’m fine staying here with you, baby,” he mumbles back in retaliation, cutting himself off mid-song to rebuttal back, voice half asleep and rubbing at his eyes like that will do the job of removing the sleep out of it. “I like laying here with you.”

You huff a little at his words. He is too darn cute for his own good and it makes your body warm knowing that he is licking being with you over much needed rest.

“But we could lie together in bed, snuggle up nice and cosy, and then in the morning come back here and cuddle all day into the night. Doesn’t that sound like the perfect way to begin our weekend?” You reason with him.

Jungkook’s lips part open for a moment as if he had the words to argue back with but is quick to shut them and opts for putting his microphone down on the coffee table instead. He finds the remote control for the TV and lowers the volume to something less deafening and one a little more relaxing as the lofi sounds act as a background ambiance.

He turns towards you and you watch as the flickers of the candles scattered around the room flicker and dance against his skin; bathing him in an ethereal glow — just like how an angel should look. The bright vibrant amber candlelight beautifully illuminates the melanin of his skin, extenuating his tanned skin stunningly.

It doesn’t help that his shirt is loose and baggy on his upper body, sleeves cuffed half way on his upper arm showing off his pretty tattoos of striking colours and bold black lines, only for the muscle under his skin to thicken as he brings his hand up to his hair. You watch intently as both hands comb through the long curly tresses from forehead to crown; again and again and it only magnifies just how pretty your boyfriend is.

The tip of his tongue presses against his inner cheek, his cheek protruding from the outside…an action he usually does when he is deep in thought. With the way the light hits his soft skin, it perfectly shows off how sharp his jawline is and how his gentle pink lips rest in a natural pout, leaving them looking plump, pink and irresistibly kissable.

“‘m not tired,” he argues, a grin on his face as he lies himself down next to you on the L shape of the couch, pulling back the thin blanket that has been resting on the headrest of the sofa and engulfs you inside the fabric before laying his head into your lap and effectively trapping you against the back of the leather and his body. Another yawn takes over his body as you feel him stiffen as he rides it out.

You lift your hand up to his face and let your fingers play delicately with the strands of his hair, twisting it around your finger and curling it around his ear away from his face.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed as you continue playing with his hair, adding to his tiredness and lulling him into a state of slumber. The atmosphere is exactly what Jungkook had promised earlier…cosy.

Jungkook’s eyes slipped shut, just long enough for you to see before he is prying them back open again with as much willpower as he can possibly muster. With the feeling of your fingers gently twisting and pulling at his hair, he has no argument against his exhaustion as it finally reaches him.

You reach the tight curls at the base of his neck, fingers playing with the curls as you make sure to let your nails scratch lightly at the base of his scalp, knowing that Jungkook has no bone in his body to make this stop, enjoying your touches so much.

You have him exactly where you want him.

Jungkook’s eyes are glazed over with sleep and yet all the same still looks dreamy — the browns are rich and deep, flakes of amber dotted within his irises. Love songs are written about eyes like his. It wasn’t hard to peer into them and to see your own smile reflecting back when he looks at you.

He runs his thumb over your lower lip, parting them just slightly before he leans down, pillowy lips connecting to yours in a soft kiss.

The feeling is so fulfilling that it is enough to make your eyelids flutter shut and your heart racing in your chest with blissful warmth as he presses his mouth deeper into yours. Even in a state of sleep, the kiss is still filled with emotion — passionate and sensual.

Jungkook moans as his mouth continues to work over yours, his teeth catching your lower lip and biting down with little pressure and letting it snap back before chasing your mouth for a second kiss.

Your hands run through his hair,nails grazing his scalp enticingly, eliciting another moan from deep within his chest. The way you kiss him has him seeing stars; dazed and lost in the touch of your lips. You caress his face with delicate touches, tongues flicking across his mouth and the way you counter back by nibbling in his own bottom lip before breaking the kiss.

Endearingly, you both press your foreheads together and close your eyes with a smile on both your lips.

Jungkook’s hand finds home on his hip before slipping underneath the cotton material of your t-shirt and resting his hands there. His thumb runs tracks over your skin in back and forth strokes as you bask in the calming, soothing sensation.

You feel his foot nudge open your legs as he tangles his limbs with yours and pulls you impossibly closer to you, your own leg now resting on top of his lip as you lock each other within the other's arms.

The feeling of Jungkook’s breath against your skin causes goosebumps to travel over your body, the warmth now turning into a small bonfire as love for the sleepy man in your arms ignites and burns bright.

It isn’t long before his breathing becomes drawn out and even, loud snores whistling through his nose and his thumb slows its movements as he eventually falls asleep in your arms.

“So much for not being sleepy,” you mock him as if he could hear, when deep down you wish that he had taken off into a dreamy slumber.

With gentle ease, you press the palm of your hand against his full cheek and brush your thumb over his cheeks the same way he did with your hip moments ago. You press your head against his forehead and land a tiny, light, airy kiss on his pouty lips.

You close your own eyes, listening to the flickering sounds of the small candles around the living room as well as concentrating on the rhythm of Jungkook’s breathing, hoping to ease yourself into your own slumber.

What felt like a moment later, Jungkook tightens his hold on you, whispering a small ‘i love you’, before sleep eventually blankets over you.

[yanderelionwrites]

Trick or Treat (Male!Yandere x Reader)

A Halloween one-shot for spooky season 🎃 I didn't want it to be too long so it's a little rushed, but here it is. Enjoy!

Content Warning: yandere, breaking and entering, assault/grabbing, manipulation

Word Count: 1.9k

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come to the party with us? I have a spare costume you could borrow that I know you would look great in!” Your roommate asked, adjusting the faux dog ears that were sitting atop her head as she walked into the kitchen.

You pulled a candy bowl out of the cupboard, dumping the sweet treats you had bought earlier today and filling it up to the brim. You smiled politely at her, but shook your head.

“Nah, I’m good. You know parties aren’t really my thing. Besides, somebody’s gotta watch over the house to make sure it doesn’t get TP’d or egged or whatever.”

“Still, though, I feel bad leaving you here by yourself. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“You sound like such a mom, Mallory,” Your other roommate, Tristan, snarked, coming down the stairs clad in a black cat costume. “(Name)’s been home alone plenty of times before. They’re not a kid.”

“I know, but it’s Halloween! The holiday just makes being alone feel more scary…”

“I’ll be fine, Mal,” You sighed, though you were still grateful for her concern. 

“We should probably get going now,” Tristan said, checking his phone. “Come on, Mal, let’s go,” Tristan grabbed ahold of her wrist, dragging her out the front door. “Don’t have too much fun without us, alright?” He winked at you.

“Bye, (Name)! We’ll probably be back around midnight! Call us if you need anything!”

After waving them goodbye, you took a small table and placed the candy bowl on top, leaving it out front with a “take two” sign. You had only bought one bag so if it ran out, it ran out. Locking the door behind you, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, excitement coursing through your body. You loved your roommates, but there was just something about having the whole house to yourself that made you giddy. A true introvert at heart.

Plopping down on your bed, you turned on your TV, scrolling through streaming sites to decide what to watch. In honor of the holiday, you naturally chose a horror movie, something you’ve never seen before but heard good things about. Cuddling up with your favorite plush, you get comfortable as the film starts, ready to experience the same dread and terror alongside the main characters.

That feeling never came however, because you quickly fell asleep not even 30 minutes into the movie. An hour had gone by by the time you woke up, with the credits rolling and the obnoxious sound of the doorbell going off. You stuffed your face into the blanket you were wrapped up in, hoping and waiting for the visitor to go away. The candy bowl was probably empty and some greedy brat was outside demanding for more.

You were forced to jump out of bed and stomp down the stairs when the ringing only continued, followed by loud knocking. Damn entitled kids. You thought bitterly, undoing the locks and yanking the front door back without even checking who was outside first.

“Look, I don’t got any more candy, so just-” You barked, but stopped mid-sentence when you were met with a tall figure dressed head to toe in black clothes. He had a hood covering his eyes, with a mask obscuring his nose and mouth. He stood eerily still, staying completely silent, only the sound of his heavy breathing being heard. It felt like an eternity before he said, “...Trick or Treat.”

Your eyes widen, backing up a bit and closing the door enough to shield yourself from him. You definitely were not expecting a grown-ass man to be outside your door asking for treats. Chuckling awkwardly, you stutter, “U-Uhm, sorry…we unfortunately ran out of candy…”

“Darn…that’s too bad,” The man’s voice was husky, but muffled by his mask. “I was really looking forward to having something sweet tonight,” He flipped his hood off before pulling his mask down, giving you a hungry look. “You’re wrong, though. The sweetest piece of candy is standing right in front of me. I could just devour you in one bite.“

Slamming the door shut, you quickly locked it again, disgust and slight fear taking over you. The audacity he had to just start flirting with you was downright deplorable, the creepiness of it all causing your hair to stand on end. Maybe this could be a prank? A stupid Halloween scare that would rack up millions of views online, with poor you being one of the unfortunate victims. 

Yeah, that’s probably what it was. You wouldn’t expect any less from this neighborhood, after all. Your heart was still pounding as you tried to convince yourself that it was just a joke, however, and you headed into the kitchen to grab something to drink. A glass of water was needed to calm your nerves.

After gulping down the cool liquid, you searched for a snack to chow down on. Hopefully if you eat something while watching your movie, you won’t fall asleep this time. Deciding on microwave popcorn, you popped a bag in and waited for it to be ready. 

Only a few seconds went by when you heard tapping on a window. It was coming from the sliding glass door that led out into the backyard. At first, you wanted to believe you were just hearing things, but the next taps were louder and incessant. The last thing you wanted to do was investigate, having had enough fright for one night, so you stayed where you were.

Good thing you did, because immediately after the tapping stopped, came a loud crash. You screamed, watching in horror as you witnessed a brick fly through the glass door, shattering it to pieces. Reflexively, you quickly grabbed a knife from the knife block, just in time to see the man from before casually stalking into your home. He turned to you, an eerie grin on his face as he approached. You pointed your weapon towards him, making sure he kept his distance.

“Stay the hell away! The fuck’s your problem, why are you breaking into my house?!” You shouted, putting on your nastiest glare.

He cocked his head to the side, as if he couldn’t understand why you were angry. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here for my candy,” He said matter-of-factly. Smirking, he curled his pointer finger at you. “So put that silly thing down and c’mere.”

“You’re insane! Get the fuck out of my house!”

“So rude,” The man huffed, pouting like a child as if this was all a game to him. “Well, if you’re not going to give me my treat, I’ll just have to give you a trick. That’s how this works, hm?”

Before you could even process his words, he lunged forward, twisting the knife out of your hands with ease. He was stronger than he looked, and within a matter of seconds, he had you pinned against the counter. You winced as your stomach dug into the marble surface, and you desperately tried to move your hands from out underneath his iron grip. They wouldn’t budge.

“Don’t struggle too hard, darling. It’ll make this easier for the both of us,” The man breathed into your ear. Chuckling, he added, “You’re cute when you’re scared, you know. God, I can’t wait to taste you.”

Your fear only worsened at that, struggling even harder even though it was useless. “W-Why are you doing this? Who even are you?” Your voice wobbled as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Who I am doesn’t matter right now. And maybe you’ll find out why this is happening to you if you do some digging later. A little detective work, if you will.”

What the hell does that mean? You couldn’t dwell on it for very long, though, because the man was pressing into you even closer now. You squealed when he dragged his tongue along the shell of your ear, anger getting ready to burst when he only laughed at your reaction.

“Get off me, creep!” You snarled, and you actually managed to jerk your arm back and elbow him in the stomach. Hissing, his grip loosened, allowing you to push him off. He stumbled back, and while he was vulnerable, you promptly kicked him in the groin. The intruder yelped in pain as he fell to the floor. You took this chance to run, practically throwing yourself at the front door and fumbling with the locks so you could get the hell out of there.

“Yeah, you better run…while you still can…” The man groaned, but his threats hardly fazed you considering he was just a pathetic heap on the ground now.

Flinging open the door, you sprinted out of the house, planning to find safety with one of your neighbors. You couldn’t get far, however, as you ran into someone quite familiar.

“Tristan?” You panted, hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath while looking up at your worried roommate.

“(Name)? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Tristan asked, putting a hand on your shoulder to try and comfort you. “What are you doing out here?”

You sucked in a few more breaths before explaining the situation to him. “There…someone….some guy broke into the house… He was after me…he tried…tried…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, it was too terrifying to relive. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” Tristan hushed you, pulling you into a surprising embrace. It was something you never expected from him, but you returned the gesture anyway.

“He’s still in the house, Tristan… We need to call the cops and get away from here,” You pulled away from the hug, eyes now focused back on the house. “I left my phone in my room, so can you call them?”

“Yeah, I will,” He nodded, whipping out his phone to start dialing. “Let’s go back to my car and stay there until they arrive, okay?”

The two of you made yourselves comfortable in the warm car, and you listened intently as Tristan called 911. After he hung up, he told you that they were on their way and would be there as soon as possible. It was able to calm your beating heart only a little bit. There was a beat of silence between you two before you decided to speak up.

“So where’s Mallory? Is she still at the party?”

Without missing a beat, Tristan said, “Yeah, she is. I just had to come back cuz I forgot something. The last thing I expected was to see you in such a panic, though. Good thing I got here when I did.”

“Yeah… I wasn’t sure what neighbor would answer the door to help me, so I’m glad I ran into you,” You confessed.

Tristan laid a comforting hand over yours and smiled. “I’m just happy you’re not hurt. That guy’s gonna pay for what he did.”

You gave him a weak smile in return, before leaning into his touch. Seeing Tristan being so soft was new, but you found it sweet and appreciated how hard he was trying to soothe you. You closed your eyes as he wrapped an arm around you, glad that you were finally away from that creepy intruder.

Tristan let you rest, pulling out his phone when it buzzed with a text alert. Opening the message, it read:

I’m out of the house now. Sorry I couldn’t keep em pinned for longer, I know u wanted to look like the hero or some shit. Though it looks like it still worked out in the end

Trying to hide his smile, Tristan replied:

Thanks man. I’ll send the rest of your payment over in a bit, after the cops leave and things settle down.

Stuffing his phone away, he squeezed your arm gently, smirking at the way you moved in closer. You were so easy to scare.

Right into his arms.

[sleepytoycollection]

Barbie Dream Besties "Brooklyn": A review

Barbie Dream Besties is a newly released doll line by Mattel, and is a spin off of their main Barbie line. Looks wise, they seem to be a spiritual successor to My Scene, Ever After high, and the more recent Barbie Extra/Barbie Extra Minis. Also trying desperately to compete with LOL and Rainbow High.

They are $20 USD each retail.

I was interested in these for three reasons: 1) I liked Ever After High and My Scene. 2) They have much more quality outfits than I tend to see from modern Barbie. 3) @queenofsquids enjoyment of them made me hopeful I'd like them too.

So do I? Let's find out.

I choose the character Brooklyn as I like her face up the best.

Her packaging is the standard plastic clam shell that seems to be all over the doll aisle anymore. I can't say I love it. I miss the cardboard boxes, so much easier to open and so much less plastic.

This box isn't super great aesthetically either. There's a lot going on in the service of nothing.

Which is a shame, because I do really like the actual character art on the box. It's super cute and matches the dolls really well. It would pop even better if the rest of the box was a smidge simpler. Sometimes less is more.

The back of the box.

We get more of this delightful artwork, showing of the full set of characters available at the moment.

We also get a short character bio for Brooklyn. She wants to be a choreographer, loves making dance routines, video editing, and creative writing. Despite her favorite color being listed as pink, she has no pink in her outfit and only one pink accessory.

Here is the box without the cover. This is what I meant when I said the box design was doing a lot for nothing. Over packaging isn't just a problem with Mattel dolls of course, MGA is arguably worse, but it's still frustrating.

Brooklyn herself is very pretty though. I tried very hard to pick one without a wonky face, but the way she's posed makes it very hard to tell.

I think one of her eyes is slightly bigger than the other. It's not enough to bother me at least. That said, so many of these were VERY wonky at the store. I would not buy these online unless you can see the specific doll you're getting. The QC is all over the place.

Here are all the accessories she comes with.

I do appreciate that all her accessories tie into her interests and character. That said, these are hit and miss.

The purse is nice, and does open.

The dog is okay, but I don't really care for these types of doll pets. It looks more like an in-universe toy than what's supposed to be an animal.

I initially liked that the phone and case were separate, until I tried to put the phone in the case and it didn't fit. It will not go in there. If I force it in, it just pops right back out.

It's a shame because I liked the 80's Barbie logo case, but without the phone in it, it looks weird when the doll is holding it.

At least the phone fits into the ring light stand.

May I also say some of these accessories feel really flimsy? The phone and Ipad are VERY thin plastic.

The boom box in hollow and unpainted.

I wish instead of having seven mid accessories we could've had two or three really good ones. Or nixed all of them and given her a stand. The doll herself is nice enough to deserve a stand I think.

Let's look at Brooklyn. She's pretty darn cute. She stands at the standard 11", and has saran hair with tinsel.

Her outfit isn't my favorite though. Mattel stop giving your dolls ugly fur sleeved varsity jackets challenge. This could've been so cute as just a regular varsity jacket.

Despite being ugly, the jacket is made pretty well. Though a button was already falling off mine. That poor QC strikes again.

Though I suppose it's moot as I doubt I'll ever put this jacket back on her ever again.

Now that she's free of that ugly thing, you can see how nice the rest of her outfit is. I didn't realize how much I missed dolls getting to wear neutrals until I saw her plain denim skirt and white tank top.

It's simple, but she's dressed like a real person. Plus, I can easily pair these pieces with a lot of other outfits. Doll wardrobes need pieces like this for mixing and matching.

Body wise she's a bit smaller than Barbie, and her feet are a little bit larger. This body reminds me a lot of the current bodies for the Disney Princess line now that Mattel has it back, though those have larger feet. If I can find the one I have, I'll do a body comparison to those later.

Her sculpt in three views. The Ever After High comparisons are very apt, though the screening itself is more reminiscent of My Scene mixed with a little bit of G3 Monster High.

For comparison, here's an actual EAH doll next to her. Brooklyn's head is just a smidge larger, but balanced out better with larger eyes, thicker brows, and bigger lips.

After this, I got Brooklyn redressed with just a few changes...

I replaced her jacket with this vintage Barbie and the Rockers one, added a necklace, and hey! Now she gets to wear her favorite color.

Final thoughts?

It's a good doll, but the quality control issues, on top of the same BS Mattel throws on all of it's dolls anymore, is dragging it down.

The fact you have to look through every single one of the shelf to make sure you're not getting a crappy one is exhausting. Plus, kids don't do that. They're going to get home with their new doll and then realize as they open it something's wrong. Kids don't deserve that.

The accessories are mostly cheap and not special enough to justify their existence. The purse, phone with case, and ring light would've been enough if they were made a bit better.

The outfit is well made, and a huge improvement over what I see in the main Barbie line, even if I don't like all the design choices, but again, that's if you get one without QC issues.

The doll herself is super cute though, and screw it, I like the tinsel. Fight me.

Overall I really love this doll, I just wish picking one out wasn't a hassle. Hell, I even bought a second one already.

I got inspired enough I wanted to repaint one, so I purposely bought this wonky Renee because she had the worst face up out of everyone at the store.

So I think there's definitely potential here. If this line continues, I hope they can improve the way G3 Monster High has improved from it's first wave.

I hope this can be the start of Mattel revitalizing it's Barbie line as well. It needs it. See ya next time.

[bethanydelleman]

New Year's Resolutions for Jane Austen Characters (mid-novel)

Emma Woodhouse: Find a new man for Harriet Smith No more matchmaking! Admit Knightley (and his brother) were right. Meet Frank Churchill, finally.

George Knightley: Just feeling thankful for everything I have. I don't think my life needs to change.

Mr. Woodhouse: Finally convince Isabella to live at Hartfield instead of with her husband. Poor Isabella!

Harriet Smith: Marry Mr. Elton 💗💗💗 *unable to read tear-stained writing*

John Knightley: Spend more time at home with my beloved wife. Why do people invite us places???

Elinor Dashwood: Find a way to get over the most perfect man I've ever met.

Edward Ferrars: Find an honourable way to get out of the engagement with Lucy (same resolution he's had for three years now)

Robert Ferrars: Build a magnificent cottage

Marianne Dashwood: Marry the most perfect man to grace this earth with his beautiful presence, John Willoughby. Also, read more poetry.

Colonel Brandon: *stares at the paper in despair because he cannot bear to give form to his ambitions which seem already impossible*

Elizabeth Bennet: I don't really think there's anything I need to improve about myself. I'm really a great judge of character.

Fitzwilliam Darcy: Remember that duty comes before ephemeral feelings of affection.

Jane Bennet: Find a way to get over the most perfect man I've ever met.

Charles Bingley: Buy an estate (resolution submitted by Caroline & Louisa)

Caroline Bingley: Encourage Charles to finally buy an estate (not in Hertfordshire), get Charles and Georgiana Darcy engaged, get engaged to Mr. Darcy, attend a party with at least three members of the nobility... (too many goals to record here)

Mrs. Bennet: MARRY OFF AT LEAST ONE OF THESE DARN DAUGHTERS

Anne Elliot: find a way to be less awkward around Captain Wentworth... Prepare myself for Captain Wentworth to marry Louisa... Try to endure Bath with a smile

Captain Wentworth: Get out of the obligation to marry Louisa Musgrove by any fair means. PLEASE GOD I AM BEGGING YOU

Captain Benwick: Mourn Fanny for eternity Marry Louisa Musgrove

Catherine Morland: Henry Tilney 💗💗💗💗 Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey 💗💗💗💗 Henry Tilney & Mrs. Catherine Tilney 💗💗💗 *doodles ideas for wedding gowns*

Eleanor Tilney: Marry the love of my life (same goal for the past three years)

Henry Tilney: Keep being awesome

Frederick Tilney: Keep being awesome

General Tilney: Have all my children disposed in marriage to wealthy individuals (goal since Frederick turned 21)

Mrs. Allen: Purchase some very fine lace

Fanny Price: marry edmund Be as unnoticed as possible

Edmund Bertram: Marry Miss Crawford

Mary Crawford: Marry Edmund Bertram

Henry Crawford: Promote William Price, marry Fanny Price. Rub my excellent treatment of Fanny in the Bertram's faces.

Tom Bertram: *never wrote anything down, never does his years are always awesome*

Mr. Yates: Finally put on a production of Lovers' Vows third times the charm!

Mrs. Norris: Save more money than last year by furthering economy. Keep Fanny in her place. Become more necessary to the Bertrams.

Lady Bertram: sew a cute little jacket for Pug

Lady Susan: Keep being the best Gaslight Girlboss *kisses paper*

(if Christmas happened within novel, I tried to place the resolutions around it. If not, I made up a time)

[drdemonprince]

In reading your latest piece, I think I've stumbled onto something akin to a personal epiphany. You describe transition as an act of "want" (Chu's longing for gossip and yours for the life of an eternal bachelor) and I've realized that I think as a consequence of growing up autistic, I've obliterated the concept of personal want. I don't know if I truly ever want anything? How do I even know what I truly want (versus what other people tell me I should want)? Is there an opposite of resentment I can tune into so I can tell what I want when my conscious mind is unable to provide me an answer?

I think the place is to start with what you don't want. What I describe as "wanting the bachelor life forever" in my piece is actually a desire born out of negation: I don't want kids, I don't want marriage, I don't want responsible adulthood and the weight that that carries, I want to feel free-roaming and open to random experiences. What i knew most viscerally for myself was what felt wrong, and owning up to those feelings no matter how socially inconvenient they might be was what made it possible for me to articulate what I proactively did find desirable.

I recommend rejecting a lot of things, disappointing a lot of people, being disobedient, setting boundaries, all of that stuff that I have been writing about for a very long time (check out the pieces on those subjects if you haven't already, but from the sound of it you probably have). And then when it comes to positively desiring things, you've got to start small. Find a little thing to look forward to every day, or every week. In my household, Wednesdays and Fridays are Dunkin Donuts days. Instead of making coffee at home, you get a little treat. That makes getting a coffee out of the house still feel precious and special while also making it attainable, and gives the work week a little horizon to peak over at its mid point.

I so look forward to the weekly streams on Friday with @testdevice, too. Afterward I usually get a meal somewhere and then go out for some kind of weekend activity -- drinking and watching Drag Race at Roscoe's, a movie, dancing, whatever. I make forming plans for the weekend a task I set out for myself at the top of every week. I find street festivals, concerts, craft fairs, protests, little things to do that I know will be meaningful to me. Small pleasures parceled out on a regular schedule provide a pleasing structure to life. It makes the forward march of time feel more exciting and keeps daily life from being defined by obligation and drudgery. Sometimes it's something like playing a video game at home or meeting up at a friend's house for a movie night and snacks. However you can swing it, you gotta have little things to look forward to, I think, in order to enjoy being alive and to get into the habit of thinking more expansively about what you want. you can making finding things that you want to do a regular project, a practice.

A lot of life is experimenting with new experiences and relationships with other people to find out what you actually like. It's not some profound act of introspection. People block themselves off from a lot of meaningful aspects of life by thinking the answers come from plumbing the depths of their soul and finding their true calling or true desire divorced from everything else. There is no self outside of experience and social connection.

And so the best way to find out what you want is to try a lot of different things. Go watch your friend at their competitive poker tournament. Volunteer to clean litter off the beach. Foster a bunny rabbit. Make a casserole. Darn a sock. Buy some handmade jewelry. Visit a museum with a coworker you kinda might like the company of. Invite someone over for dinner. How it plays out and how you feel about it is all data about the kind of person you are becoming.

I also wouldn't get too bogged down in the idea that wants can only come from the pursuit of happiness. I got a few really well intentioned asks this week that I never answered about what brings me joy, what makes me happy. Truth is, I'm not someone who experiences happiness easily and i might never be. That is okay. I still have a life that holds meaning because I AM very good at finding things interesting. i like talking to people, learning from them, watching things play out in real time.

You don't have to feel some kind of abiding soul connection to an activity or sense that a way of life will absolutely make you happy in order for it to interest you, help you grow, bring your life meaning. Other people might not want to read long history books about genocide and the social construction of race in order to bring their life pleasure, but those activities engage my mind and make me feel more firmly rooted in the actual world. they're interesting and rewarding to study, and so i do it. i say yes to a lot of invitations purely because i've never seen what horse racing is like or because i want to see if i'll still get nauseated if i ride a boat now as an adult. it's interesting. it might not make me happy or be fun. but i like a life better with those experiences. those are the things i gravitate to and want. and you can find what you want, too, and it will always keep changing probably.

[skyward-floored]

Dawn part 4 analysis, here we go! At it again with my ramblings.

Starting off with THE GLORIOUS RETURN OF THE MAILMAN! The moment I saw the flag I was like :O HE’S BACK!!!

(I also got the blue’s clues mail song stuck in my head)

Hey look, it’s Warriors’ money! And the inkeeper who’s happily admiring the ridiculous amount of rupees Warriors now does not own!

Rip Warriors’ money. It will be dearly missed.

Also no vacancy?? I mean, it’s possible there’s other people staying there, or it’s just a small inn, but... it kinda looks like Warriors literally bought every available room there was. Mad lad.

I (like everybody else lol) took a crack at figuring out who’s signature was who’s, based on their respective game’s Hylian texts/scripts, order of when they got there, and the OG tags on the comic. So here’s my best guesses—

1. Time is first, which makes sense based on him being the one to take Twilight to the inn

2. Hyrule appears to be next— his games don’t have a written script, but the hylian here is close to Legend’s, so I’m assuming it’s his, based on the fact that he was part of the next group to get to the inn.

3. Four is who I’m least sure about I’ll admit, but seeing as how he came with Hyrule, (and he’s the only Link left I couldn’t identify at all), I’m assuming it’s his.

4. Warriors we know for sure, since the tags say this signature is his. He gets a shout out for being the only Link who can actually write in the lines.

5. Wind seems to be next, as his hylian is very close to what’s here (his signature partially obscures Warriors’ XD)

6. Legend is who I’m going with for this one, but I’ll admit it could be Wild’s since their script is pretty darn close. But once again, based on when they all got to the inn, Legend would make the most sense to be here.

7. Sky is definitely here. His hylian is very unique compared to the others (I think it’s my favorite)

8. Wild is probably next, but same case as Legend, they could be swapped. But once again, probably not, since Wild was the last to get inside.

9. Twilight bringing up the rear! His hylian is unmistakable, and it makes sense that he’d mark his name last. I don’t think he could handle it until he woke up that morning, though I do wonder which arm he wrote it with...

(Rip Mr. Mailman in trying to figure all this out)

Moving on!

It’s gotta be close to mid-morning by now based on the light, but Sky obviously does not handle waking up at dawn well. It’ll be interesting to see if he stays sleepy during the rest of this arc, or if he'll wake up a bit.

(Side note, Sky looks so soft and fluffy here, I want to hug him)

Sky is so relatable in this update, he’s got some serious “I have no idea what’s going on” vibes. That first one he's got such a deer in the headlights look XD

The mailman is just like “you! I’ve been looking for you! Great to see you!” and Sky’s just “I have never met this man in my life” (probably forgot he actually did see him once (because he’s sleepy))

Four letters, all different languages and dialects... I’m guessing at least one Zelda based on the seal on that blue letter (it seems fancier to me), but I don’t know about the rest. I would guess Malon for one, and maybe another Zelda? Warriors or Wild or Four’s Zelda maybe? Maybe Twilight got a letter from someone in Ordon, or the Resistance!

Only thing I do know is that there’s probably not one for Sky, since he wasn’t immediately like “letter for me! :D”

Four trying to do something nice and fix Wild’s sword and this guy just laughs at him, rude 😤 At least he didn’t make a short joke, which was honestly what I was expecting. I mean I get knowing that your equipment won’t be enough for the job, but sheesh.

(Also the blacksmith’s goggles look a bit like Gondo’s in skyward sword’s, plus the ones the rescue knights wear, thought that was interesting).

(Cool pose mode: engaged)

I love this panel!! They all decided to follow Four and help him out just like they did last time, fix the sword and get Wild a good, reliable weapon.

I’ve also never noticed how similar these guy’s hair looks before, especially Warriors and Hyrule’s— if Rulie’s hair was a little shorter and blonde, it would be pretty near identical. Very interesting...

(Plus Wind has the funniest expression, he's so cute)

We interrupt this rambly analysis to bring you a brief moment of me yelling about Warriors' smile ABHDGFSFKHSBBG LOOK AT HIM that stupid cocky grin and the way he's rolling up his sleeve I'm *swoon*

Four absolutely losing it over Warriors’ jab about teamwork is SO funny, Captain you have no idea how good your joke was. (also Four, bud, you good? Little hysterical there pal)

Also he looks so happy!!! Compare that to any of the faces he was making the night before, he's doing so much better. I’m so glad he’s happy and smiling now, even if it was just at a dumb joke :)

I don’t even have anything to say about this panel. Just look at it. Glorious.

And one last thing...

MULTILINGUAL WARRIORS HOLY CROW that's such a cool trait to give him, I am in love with it now that's awesome.

An amazing update as always, it was fantastic all around <3

[little-fandom-gal]

Listen, disregarding your favorite bachelor/bachelorette, disregarding you as a person or the persona you’ve imposed on the player character: Harvey x Farmer is objectively the funniest, most “mid-2000s rom-com” pairing possible in the game.

Picture this: a nervous Dr. just trying to make ends meet in a small town. His dreams of being a pilot were shattered by poor eye sight, and pretty much the only person who interacts with him outside of patient visits is the nurse who’s 100% coding an ai program at the desk since no one ever shows up.

Then boom: one day there’s this raggedy farmer hauled in by the local homeless man. Maybe the farmer’s said hello in passing, most likely they’ve given him some random weed dug up in someone’s backyard, or maybe this is the first time they meet up. Anyways, Harvey greets them and sends them off and then NOT TWO DAYS LATER THEYRE BACK! If it isn’t monster attacks, it’s working themself to death on the farm or chopping trees or fishing until 2:00am because “well what if there’s a special fish past 1:00am!”

And, as time goes on and they meet up either in clinic or in the library (where the farmer is shoving ancient bones into the hands of the man at the counter) Harvey realizes he’s growing fond of this new goblin. Harvey’s birthday is one of the last, yet this chaos beast might just find him and shove a cup of coffee in his hand (the farmer has been running at Mach 5 because they downed ten before getting to this point). And darn, he’s fallen in love with the dirt-crusted farmer.

Then in marriage, the scenanigans never end! He still charges for the many, MANY, ER visits because they’ve been fighting flying anacondas in the mines, and he’s been home with his model planes and radio knowing that, screw it, they always come back like some feral cat.

I think the only storyline that comes close in rom-comability due to the character growth from the chaos the farmer brings is Hailey, but I think it’s funnier with Harvey because no one expected him to get roped into a rom-com, least of all himself