#design is still a wip and she still needs a name.

[phobiaexists]

I love women

[tstain-is-an-idiot]

CU, except I swapped the genders and changed some minor story details

So basically it's a more magical girl-ish version of the story instead of a normal superhero one (she still is, but just more... magical, I guess?)

[eggsandramem]

so ink, huh? ✒️🌧️

anyways, design notes!!!!!!!

GOD CSMP IS RUINING ME :WITHEREDAWAY: /VPOS

that first part to the finale on rats pov got me GRRGHGHR.... THE DEFILE MOD IS SO <333,,, yummy tasty grghhrg the csmp lore as a whole makes me explode too

for Rat;

🐀 - The little rat pattern on the bottom of the maid dress are based on a sweater i really like!! they're super cute, and i thought they fit

🐀 - Had to add the extra rats hehe,,, including an oc of mine for self indulgence :swagzauc: (the fella by rats' boot,,, simplified version of my oc Squeakers!)

🐀 ^ - To add onto the rats, i also gave them inkmorphisized forms!! they get ink whimsy too. as a treat

🐀 - I wanted to incorperate the focus items in the mod into both of their designs somehow, so i gave rat a charm of the Sun Effigy!! funky tail charm,,, but shinyy,,,,

🐀 - The horns are more rounded than sharp due to how they look in the pixel sprites! :D

and for Lux;

🖋 - I decided to add a big tear in her right wing, to add onto the fact that her arm got pretty much chopped off by mouthpiece. lux herself mentioned after i shared a wip that it could also be torn because of how she always dies to fall damage and. i can see it LMFAOO😭😭😭

🖋 - The horns in the inkmorphisis form are more sharp than soft, more because i couldnt figure out how to make that same shape i gave rats' horns fit with the moth antennae,,, it still looks a little weird but fuck it we ball </3

🖋 ^ - On the topic of the horns, ive also given them the small little nubby bits to *kind of* resemble a wardens horns, with their little glowy nubs!! just as a nod towards the 'furniture' mod she made :3c

🖋 - I turned the eyespots in her normal design into the Totem of Uncleansing eyes!!!! like i mentioned in rats' notes, in wanted to incorperate the focus items in the mod into their designs, and i thought putting the totems on the eyespots would be super neat,,, :D

🖋 ^ - Unlike the other eyes on the wings, the eye over the torn wing isnt removed, but is rather put into more of a side-viewed/facing position! i didnt want to make it look like a strange, weirdly cut off eye, so yahoo :3

~~~

RAHHG I LOVED MAKING MY OWN DESIGN INTERPERITATIONS FOR THESE TWO.... I NEED TO MAKE MORE EVENTUALLY BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHEN THAT WILL BE BECAUSE MY MOTIVATION IS AWFUL,,,, FOR NOW? HAVE THESE TWO.... hwat is their duo name..... ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ ◅

[lo1k-diamonds]

Closer 💜

SX Seoul Series | Namjoon's Entry

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Namjoon and you were friends for years — he was your confidant, protector, and haven. You didn’t want to risk it, no matter what, but some things can’t be kept in the dark.

WORD COUNT: 8.2k

GENRE: friends to lovers, smut (it's lovemaking tbh)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: reader is shy and introverted, mentions of anxiety, being in the dark in an agitated crowd (reader is safe w/ NJ), fear of losing a friendship, porn w/ plot (lovemaking, or my version of it), unprotected sex (wrap it up), dry humping, riding, they're both shy and idiots in love but they make it 💜

A.N. Is this a slow burn? Am I searingly slowly taking you all on the journey that is kissing and feeling Kim Namjoon? Some could say there was no need to describe it in such detail. They would be wrong 💜 (Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Someone called your name and you looked up.

“Come on! Don’t fall behind!”

You gasped mutely and rushed in between the ever-growing crowd to join your friends and coworkers atop the stairs. The line wasn’t too big tonight but you still preferred to stay close to them — no way you wanted to be left alone in a bar street in Itaewon in the middle of the night. You pressed your hands nervously, looking around while your friends laughed about something you didn’t hear. No, you didn’t want that. There could be weird people and drunk people, and you were the designated driver anyway—

“Hey!” 

You blinked at Juhyun through your eyeglasses with big wide brown eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“Come along!” She sighed, extending her hand so you’d grab it, and you did with relief.

You gave your coat at the reception with a polite head bow, following closely after everyone. The noise hit your ribcage with the force of an alarm, making you grin with gritted teeth but you took a deep breath and hurried along. It wasn’t like you never went out, or had never been there before. SX Seoul had become the preferred club of people working in the industry, and so you found yourself with a vibrating ribcage and sweaty hands every once in a while. However, you did get anxious in crowded loud places like bars and clubs. An elbow sank into your side as you followed after Juhyun and despite the person’s apology and head bow, which you returned, you smiled with a hint of tiredness. The night had just begun.

You got set on the couches, saying hi to everyone you knew who was already there, and smoothly offered to help everyone get drinks. That was an easy way for you to get an alcohol-free drink early on and successfully avoid being offered drinks for a long while.

“Look who’s DJing tonight!”

You had sat near Juhyun after handing her a drink and smiled happily, engaging in light conversation.

“Didn’t you write his breakout music video?”

“Yeah, I did!” 

You smiled politely, a warm fuzzy feeling settling in your stomach — you might have not liked the constant background house beat that had you all screaming to be heard, but you did feel proud of your work. Of every concept you had written, every storyboard you had designed, and every screening you helped with that led you to where you were now — in a creative atmosphere surrounded by like-minded people who just wanted to bring joy and artistry to the world.

As the night continued, you were more and more comfortable, surrounded by people you knew. You didn’t think it could get better, but as soon as Namjoon arrived, you grinned from ear to ear and chuckled at your silliness.

“Hi everyone!” You instantly scooted over and made space for him to sit beside you and join in the conversation, yet as you tried to keep up, he leaned in, “Driving?”

You turned to him and smiled sheepishly, something he returned with a sweetness of his own. You had been friends forever; he knew the answer to his own question.

“Your hair,” he added. 

You blinked then felt for it over your shoulders and chest, trying to see in between psychedelic blinding lights if something had happened to it or something. 

“No! Just— It’s loose!”

You blinked again, pressing your eyeglasses up the bridge of your nose, “Well, yeah.”

He smirked briefly, looking down before facing you again with a gentle puff, “It looks good!”

Your lashes batted once before someone asked for his attention, and just in time. You could feel the heat spreading from your chest to your cheeks and turned to sip at your drink seemingly absentmindedly.

He noticed? You didn’t know why it surprised you so much; Namjoon was an attentive friend. Caring too, he always noticed when something was going wrong or a project was difficult. He always offered to help you out, and you did the same. You had that kind of relationship — friendly and supportive. Of course, that didn’t mean he had to notice your hairstyle for tonight. You had just let go of your usual braids for something more casual — just loose over your shoulders. And now there you were, playing with the long hair locks over your chest like your heart wasn’t fluttering at the simplest interaction.

“Hey! Let’s dance!”

You nodded at Juhyun and got up with a smile that crumbled just a little when Namjoon got up too. He scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly smiling at you and Juhyun.

“You don’t mind if I join you, right?”

“Of course not!”

She had answered for you because yet again you were pressing your lips. Namjoon wasn’t half as bad a dancer as he thought he was and you had all danced together before. Had you blushed then as you did now? You wondered as you beelined to the center of the dancefloor; you couldn’t remember. In the end, it didn’t matter. You smiled as you turned to Namjoon in that circle of people just randomly facing each other in turns. It didn’t have to be anything much, you were just having fun. All of you. It was absolutely fine.

He grabbed your hand and wiggled it for you to pivot and move around and you just laughed and did as told because it was fun. And not a big deal if he didn’t do it to the others, they were busy shouting in each other’s ears anyway.

You felt light and didn’t think it could get better than this when all of a sudden everything became pitch black. The music shut down and suddenly all you could hear was your ears ringing annoyingly and people either shouting or wondering a bit louder than usual about what was going on. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that it couldn’t be normal for a club to just abruptly shut down like that, and it was enough for your anxiety to instantly spike and sting your chest. Yet a pair of arms circled you lightening fast, pressing you safely to a firm chest.

Your cheeks were squished against his pectorals and you could hear a heart racing equally to yours under your ear. A question never formed itself, you knew exactly who was hugging you. It was safe now. You hugged him back and closed your eyes, using his body like an anchor to keep your anxiety from releasing you into the rowdy sea.

Namjoon could hear people getting agitated all around you two, making him squeeze you harder against him. People got nervous in situations like those. They could start running for the exit, pushing and stepping over people without a care if the panic was big enough. And as the absence of music and light continued, mere seconds felt like minutes cracking under the pressure as people became agitated.

He knew crowded places made you anxious. That was how you justified the way he was pressing his lips to the top of your head. It made your already racing heart jump with a foreign feeling, which mixed with his musky cologne had you sweating and not out of nervousness.

A louder shout not so far from you startled you into pressing your fingertips into his lower back and he immediately hugged you tighter. His lips brushed the top of your head again but the agitation around you was too loud, making it impossible to discern what he had said. Yet, regardless, you were safe. You could feel people shifting around you, voices becoming louder, and the occasional glimpse from people's phones. A wave of appreciation and gratitude flooded you, flowing over your anxiety and you unglued your cheek from his shirt to tell him.

His lips pressed lightly atop your cheekbone and your breath caught. His nose had tapped against your eyeglasses and you instinctively squinted though you couldn’t see. None of it bothered you though, on the contrary. Your lips parted in surprise, his thumb dragging across your jawline as if to make sure of where you were in the dark.

You forgot about the world around you. You were suspended in the air, in a trance, waiting for what would happen next, and it happened unexpectedly. His forehead touched yours and you closed your eyes, letting him cradle you sweetly. Little did he know that you could feel no anxiousness now, you were a blank page waiting to be written on.

Or maybe he knew. He didn’t force your chin but he did mutter something while his lips brushed your jawline, and you turned your head. Curiosity, it was all it was. Because you hadn’t heard him, but as your skins brushed, your lips caught the subtle hint of something plush and wet for the tiniest of moments.

You became dizzy and gripped his shirt at the end of his back. Was that what you thought it was? Was that—?

All it took was a millimeter for him to give you the hint that you took without hesitation. His lips pressed to the corner of your mouth and you sighed, eyes scrunching with the tension inside your chest. You were no mind and all instinct when you parted your lips further to get more, just a bit more. All you were ready to do was react, so when it felt like he was about to break away, you closed in.

You were incredibly aware of everything that involved Namjoon. The way his long fingers supported your jawline with a feather-like touch, his short hair falling just above his eyes tickling you where it got to your skin around your eyeglasses, the softest touch of his plush lips as even his breath eased, the gentlest breeze caressing your face whenever you tentatively parted and rejoined like waves kissing the shore.

You were aware of everything, and yet when the lights and music came back on, you were helpless. Namjoon straightened up to look around, trying to figure out what was going on, while you were just looking up at him, gripping him still, trying to figure things out on your own. What was that? What—

“Are you okay?” Juhyun asked right behind you and you jumped in place, startled. You let go of Namjoon, and it was he who answered.

“Yeah, we stayed cool. Are you?”

“Yeah, they pushed around a bit though, geez,” she complained, running a hand through her hair. “What do you think happened?”

“Good question, I don’t know.”

You didn’t hear anything anymore, you were just staring up at him as he talked. Good question. You had no idea either. What happened? Did you really just kiss—

“Listen, if you’re bummed out, that’s okay,” Juhyun shouted above the music, pressing your arm gently. She looked concerned and you tried a smile.

You could guess you looked as befuddled as you felt, “Yeah, I kind of— But I’m your driver!” You shouted instead, remembering your responsibility with a firm shake of your head.

“It’s okay, we’ll catch a taxi!” She shouted with a nod. She knew you were usually anxious; something unnerving like that was surely too much for you. “I’m just worried about you going alone!”

“I’ll go with her,” Namjoon nodded, unwavering, and before you got to say something, Juhyun agreed.

“Take care, text me when you’re home,” she asked you, squeezing your hand once.

You were frowning, about to suggest staying a bit more so you could take her home too when a firmer hand replaced hers. Namjoon returned your gaze, said a quick goodbye with a wave to everyone else, and then pulled you behind him as he made your way out.

Your mind slowly got back on track with every step you took. His hand was firmly wrapped around yours, and despite his wide shoulders in front of you, sheltering you from the chaos, your anxiety guided your thoughts back to the surface with a forced gasp.

What were you doing? Maybe this would turn awkward. You and Namjoon had been good friends for years, you had always counted on him. Maybe that was a mistake, maybe he would be uncomfortable around you now. You didn’t want things to change, you didn’t want to lose his joyful grins, relaxing bicycle rides, and long quiet reading sessions back at his place.

You bowed as you took your coat at the reception and put it on before stepping out into the cold. He was no longer holding your hand, which was holding the coat’s collar to your neck instead. You swallowed and looked down, freezing atop the stairs while you ran by the options and he stepped down ahead of you. You don’t have to leave earlier because of me. I can get home safely by myself. I’m sorry if that was awkward, I—

“Where’s your car?”

You sucked in a breath and told him before turning to walk intently as quickly as possible. The cold was rough on your cheeks, despite the big round lenses of your eyeglasses. You gritted your teeth not to quiver as you stepped carefully over the slippery sidewalk.

When you got to your car, you got in quickly and turned it on to give it time to warm up a bit. Namjoon had followed you inside in silence and was so quiet that his presence could have been buried under your anxiety.

You brushed your flushed cheeks and tried pulling your long hair free, realizing it was trapped between your blouse and the coat. You were so used to having braids that you forgot you needed to tend to your hair properly whenever you put your coat on and now you were stiff and stuck and—

“Easy,” he rasped, reaching to help you and you froze. You glanced up at him and stayed still as he alleviated the tension of the fabric over your shoulders to gently pull your hair out before leaning to repeat the same action on the other side. By then your eyes had lowered to his hands. The way he was handling your dark threads of hair as if it was the most precious silk, worthy of care and attention. “There.”

Your eyes jumped up in time to see him leaning back, a perfectly blank expression making your chest pang in nervousness. You were overthinking again.

“Thanks!” You squeaked, clearing your voice immediately as you leaned forward to reach the GPS screen, “Now, to Joonie’s…”

The drive was easier than you thought it would be. He commented on the cold, and then on what happened at the bar. He had never seen something like that at a bar, only at festivals or concerts. He wondered if the whole street had a power outage or if it was just that room. You mused that if it had been more than just the room, you’d surely hear about it in the news. 

And just like that the car became quiet. Seoul always had traffic, even at 2:52 AM, it was nothing new. So while you comfortably focused on taking him home safely, your thoughts wandered elsewhere.

His lips were the softest thing you had ever touched in your life. Just the delicateness with which you had kissed, you didn’t think you had it in you. Weren’t kisses supposed to be messy? Powerful and passionate? Then how had you touched the pillowy clouds above?

Just remembering it had your guts burning in excitement, and you pressed your lips. Were you making any sense? But you had really done that; hiddenly in the dark, yes, but really. You had acted on your instinct for the first time and gotten a glimpse of the sky. 

You wondered why now. Your friendship was old and comfortable, and he had always been a gentleman, protective but never overbearing. You thought he saw you as a colleague initially and then a friend with similar tastes. You pressed your lips right as you stopped the car in front of his apartment building. One glance at him and you knew that was the same old Namjoon you were used to. Maybe you had dreamed it. Maybe it was supposed to stay a dream.

“Would you like to come up?”

Your eyes jumped and widened, the shock as evident in your expression as a flashing billboard sign.

“I finished the new Murakami,” he continued swiftly, “so you can take it if you want. Or any other book.”

Your lips instantly twitched into a smile, “You finally finished it, then.”

He smirked as you turned off the engine and reached to get your bag, “Finally. You know how I am with his books.”

You nodded and got out of the car, the negative temperature clashing with your blushing cheeks. Yet you only smiled, locked the car, and teased him while you both went inside. Even the ride up the elevator was lighter; you two were back to your eased friendship where you got to poke fun at his annoyance with the repetitiveness of Murakami’s plotlines while enjoying every other detailed introspection he had to offer.

So when you passed the threshold of his apartment, you were as always. You both got your shoes off, though you kept your coat because you weren’t going to stay long. He offered you a drink despite you insisting that it was a quick visit, and as he disappeared into the kitchen to see what he could offer, you beelined to his reading corner.

That space always brought a smile to your face and comfort to your heart. That corner of the living room had a bookshelf from floor to ceiling separated by squared compartments that combined books and small plant pots in a myriad of colors. His most cherished one, however, was the bonsai on the small table next to the gray reading chair and ottoman. He'd let you take up the chair whenever you would read or work at his place, with him preferring the couch so he could stretch his legs more comfortably. You preferred the reading chair because the setting was a mood changer for you and you could use the different shelves to place your open books, especially when designing or writing ideas. Each square was organized in a particular way: some by authors, others by category, or type of work.

“I don’t have much,” you could hear him returning to you. “But I can make tea.”

You shook your head while you crouched, taking a look at your favorite section, “It’s okay, I won’t stay long. Where’s the Murakami?”

“Right here,” his voice sounded from above your head, and you glanced up to see him towering over you, reaching for the book lying by the ledge on the appropriate shelf. He eyed you and you smirked, pushing your eyeglasses up your nose bridge before looking back down. The corners of his lips twitched as he gripped the book inside his hands; he knew you were just happily skimming through your favorite shelf, and that wasn’t the issue. You weren’t the issue, you were— He took a deep shaky breath, “Oh, right, I have another one.”

He placed the Murakami book on the small table and left your side in the direction of his bedroom, you noticed. You pressed your lips and got up, grabbing the book he was holding just now. Blood was rushing to your cheeks and you took a short breath to ease yourself. You were there just to grab that book. You were alone at Namjoon’s, and that had happened hundreds of times before. Not that you had ever kissed before, but you could be cool. It was in the dark anyway. Conceptually, if you were thinking of the outline of a music video, that meant it was a secret. You could keep a secret. You could pretend it never happened.

Overhearing his steps pulled you from the depths of your thoughts to check what he had in his hands.

“Here,” he grinned, showing it to you. 

It was a book and you gasped before you grabbed it. The cover had the digital drawing of a little girl on her bed, not lying down, but facing the wall behind her that had become an ocean with sparkling rays floating above. The title read, ‘Windows to Worlds: The Art of Devin Elle Kurtz’. You thought the name rang a bell as you opened and skimmed through it. 

“I thought of you,” he smiled, dimples sinking sweetly into his cheeks at your interested demeanor.

“Woah, her use of color and lighting looks absolutely astounding,” you breathed, alternating between gasping and stopping your breath altogether with each new page.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“But why did you get it?” You finally caught up, looking up at him. “Because I was struggling with lighting?”

Your tone was appreciative and almost savvy as if you knew you had guessed his intent correctly. Yet he shook his head once, “Because of the braids.”

You lowered your eyes to the cover again and indeed, the little girl had two braids, much like you usually sported. You smiled, “Do you think she has eyeglasses too?”

“Maybe,” he acceded, nodding with ease.

You looked back down at the cover — the girl had her palms against the glass as if she was staring into a new magical world. It brought warmth to your chest. Not just because it was beautiful or because it was going to help you, but because Namjoon saw some of it in you.

You pressed the books to your chest, facing him to thank him when your smile fell. His expression had lost some of its casualness and you were immediately flooded with apprehension.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

His tone was so gentle it brought tears to your eyes. It was Namjoon. All of it, all of your doubts and anxiety were about one of the most important people in your life. Who cared how you might have felt; you absolutely could not jeopardize your friendship.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed so sincerely your voice shook.

“Oh.”

“I… It was…”

Your gaze was on the floor around his feet on the white carpet as you tried to find words. You half expected him to move or make things less awkward with his spirited humor, but he waited.

So you said what came to mind, “An accident. Right? It was an accident,” you repeated, ignoring the heat making your eyeglasses fog ever so slightly. “It was dark and…”

You sucked in a breath and pushed your eyeglasses up your nose bridge to soothe yourself, and froze when he nodded slowly.

“I… can’t call it an accident.”

Your eyes widened impossibly, “But— But then— I mean,” you blinked, “that would mean…”

You were just stammering and he smiled, “Yes. I don’t just— I wouldn’t just—” He smirked, scratching the back of his head, “I’d be lying if I said—”

His voice got caught inside his throat. You were looking up at him with eyes so big he feared they’d pop or something. He thought he was ready to talk about it and get it out in the open but— Were you even breathing?

“You know what? Never mind,” he shrugged, with a smile that pressed his plush lips too thin.

Your eyes widened even more, “No—” You almost choked from your impulse and instinctively stepped back, and everything went dark.

You held your breath as if you had been caught in a trap. You could have been back at the club, but there was no crowd, no fear, and no pressure. There was light still shining from his bedroom, reassuringly outlining his silhouette. You were safe, just like then. And it formed the words out of your mouth.

“I can't call it an accident either,” you confessed, and instantly your shoulders relaxed. He didn’t move and you couldn’t see him, but you knew him. You knew of his presence and the way he would never judge or hurt you. “I kissed you back.”

The silence continued between you but you found comfort in it. It was as though you had time to process, to put yourself back in your shoes moments earlier when exactly like that, in the dark, you let something from deep within surface.

“I was… curious,” you voiced quietly.

“Curious?”

“What would you… feel like? How would you…” you were getting lost and closed your eyes. You could almost feel him again, his warmth, his scent, the firmness of his arms around you, helping you levitate safely into the clouds. Your eyes opened at the sound of a footstep and you instantly flushed, “I mean, I— I’m sorry, I—”

“No, don't say sorry.” His outline drew closer until he stopped right in front of you. “You were curious about that?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Why was your heart racing so fast? You were so hot that you knew for a fact your eyeglasses were fogging, despite not being able to see it. You swallowed and fanned your face a little, self-conscious about your hands becoming sweaty and dirtying the books.

Yet as you tried to calm down, you realized silence was stretching. He was waiting, of course, gentlemanly as he was. And you were embarrassed but in the dark, you also wanted to be brave.

“I liked it.”

You left it there, your sincere answer to his question. Your heart was thrumming wildly but you were not half as nervous as you thought you’d be.

“I liked it too.”

Your breath caught as you looked up despite barely seeing a silhouette. What?

“Would you do it again?”

“Now?” Your voice pitched.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Your tone was inquisitive, but it was more out of shock that he said yes. You were heating up so much you didn’t think you were processing thoughts logically, and you weren’t. Your head was blank, “Yes.”

It felt like an eternity, but you knew that wasn’t true. You were just too eager to see what happened next, to feel him again and check if your head would be caught spinning as you floated away to the clouds again.

The books in your hands disappeared quickly, only the sound of them hitting the table told you their fate, and not that you cared. His breath was fanning your face and your head instantly fell back, tapping the wall as your lips parted and you waited for what you wanted most.

When it didn’t instantly come, you had no issues soothing his hesitation by guiding his hands to your jaw. You wanted him to know where you were; exactly there, between the wall and his safe embrace, waiting. 

Finally, his breath was so close it fully stopped when your lips locked together in a feather-like touch, and you moved. You pressed yourself closer, brushing his lips so you’d match completely. Your mouth dove into a sweeter taste, fingers tracing up his neck tentatively to grasp that feeling. And he let you, falling in with you, leaning into you as far as you’d let him.

Your lips parted in an invitation that he took promptly, leaving a wet trace on your bottom lip before he committed. You sighed into his mouth, gripping his shirt to pull him closer. He could reach into you and all around you; you were falling. There was an expanse behind and all around you and it reminded you of free falling; it was probably what skydiving felt like. Only you weren’t nearing the ground but going further from it. That sky was about to catch you; a sweet, soft, endearing sky about to clasp you affectionately and carry you into a dream.

You only stopped because he pulled back, kissing the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your cheek. It was when you noticed that you two fit together like puzzle pieces, with your fingers buried in the nape of his neck, his into your lower back, your breaths mixing as your legs intertwined.

His breath was heavy against your warm cheek, “This can stay here. In the dark. If you want.”

You were too far to recognize the concern in his voice, “Is that what you want?”

“No,” his reply was instant, a subtle shake of his head as his lips dragged over your heated skin. “No, I'm curious about way more than this.”

You opened your eyes, eager to see in him what he meant, but the darkness hid his expression. It protected you, yes, but now, it made you uneasy. There was a moment when it had soothed your fears, maybe even made you brave, but now it was enough.

“Would turning the light on bother you?”

You felt his smile before he pulled away, “Not at all.”

His hands were still supporting your waist as you felt the wall behind you until you flipped the switch. You shut your eyes instantly with a grimace and knew he had done the same.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but he smirked, “I told you you could.”

His eyes opened first, eager to bypass the sudden sensibility so he could look at you as soon as possible. Your eyes and nose were still scrunched, your eyeglasses had fallen lower on your nose than you liked normally, and the top of your cheeks was beautifully blushed. He didn’t resist cupping your cheek to brush his thumb over the red hue and your eyes opened, looking up at him over your eyeglasses. You were so close to each other but you couldn’t look or move away.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, eyes set on yours as if he were seeing stars.

“How can you see anything, we’re so close,” you whined with a huff.

He chuckled, “Yeah?”

You pouted; your eyeglasses were falling down your nose bridge again, and he grinned. He was so unbelievably happy right now, and as you pressed the eyeglasses further up, he wished it would never end.

“Is it…” you were quiet, “better like this?”

“Much better,” he assured confidently, looking into your eyes intently. 

Every time you blinked, wherever you glanced, he kept his cool and tried holding his fear in check — what if you suddenly pushed him away, became uneasy, or regretted this? 

Yet your eyes fixed on his as your hand returned gently to the side of his neck, “You said… you’re curious about more?”

He couldn’t breathe, “Yes.”

“What… does that mean?”

Your voice was a thread and he swore he became dizzy, “You. I—” His lips twitched as he found words, “I want to be with you.”

He settled on that simple fact and shushed his racing heart. It was too soon to confess how long he had been thinking about this, how far he had fallen, and how deeply sure he was that there was no one else he wanted. Nowhere else he wanted to go, no other person who could be home, no other soul he wanted to share his time with. Shit, this was not the time for a love confession.

“Not in the dark,” you mused, thinking back. “But here,” you searched his eyes with a light line between your eyebrows. “Do you want that? To be… a moment of—”

“No,” he interrupted firmly, making sure that every point you touched each other conveyed that. “I want more than a moment, than one night, than a place, than— No,” he breathed. “I want so much more.”

You weren’t sure there was any reaction you could have given because you were floating again. His arms were around you, his mouth speaking words you had long wished to hear, and you waited. It felt like the right thing to do; you just waited for him to become so much more.

“And you?” He asked after waiting to hear your thoughts. “How far would you take this?”

You almost choked with your instant answer, “All the way.”

His eyebrows jumped before his expression scrunched into a rapturous smile, and you filled your chest with air. You needed it, you needed a big deep breath before the dive. When his forehead touched yours, you stayed close, eyes half-hooding, waiting, and ready. You had been ready for a while, all there was left to do now was fly.

You were waiting for his kiss when he grabbed your head, both of you eager and gentle in your grip on the other. His lips were as soft as before but now he was pressing harder, searching for something in the depths of your kiss, and you met him halfway. There was the passion you had thought of before, making your skin pucker as your breathing dragged. It was curious how you were so focused on every little detail of his — his jawline moving under your fingertips, the soft skin at the column of his neck, his wide shoulders where your arms found support to press him closer to you — but had no actual thoughts. Every brush of his lips had you sinking further, every lick of his tongue had you immersed until his hands were pulling you to him and barely letting you touch the ground.

When your feet did touch the ground you lost your balance a little and inadvertently fell into him, which had him feeling behind him to make sure he could sit down. Your lips parted and he looked up at you, hands supportive but not pressuring you. He waited for you to decide if you’d follow him or not, and you didn’t hesitate. You raised a knee to his outer thigh and he instantly supported it, helping you to straddle him effortlessly before he leaned back into the reading chair.

You towered over him a little bit and as he hugged you close, you couldn’t help remembering how many times you had sat in that same chair just to read. Now he was there with you, under you, kissing your neck gently, and you kissed his head with the excitement bubbling under your skin. This was really happening, you could barely contain yourself.

He pressed you to sit closer to him and you guided him to look up just so you could dive into his kiss again. His skin was so soft, his touch so gentle as he let you steer your mouths until your head started spinning. You went deeper with every kiss, and with every sparkle, you became daring. Your fingers laced around his hair, your breaths one and the same as your hips moved on their own accord to fuse you two in any way possible. Your instinct was taking over, regardless of how you ground against him or leaned into him as if it would merge you two together.

You were hot and breathless when you felt a hint of his fingertips brushing the skin at your lower back, and instinctively you pulled back. He looked up at you, instantly wary of mistakenly crossing a line, but in a rustle of clothes, your blouse went up and away, thrown on the floor.

You faced him then, the goosebumps forming on your skin wherever his fingertips brushed your back as you seemed to exude heat. Not even for a moment did you wonder if you were going too far, despite being in a bra only in front of him. Rather you eyed his shirt and pouted, and he got it; in a second it was gone too.

Your lips twitched as you stroked down his neck, over his clavicles, and to his wide shoulders. You knew he’d be perfect, you knew you’d go well beyond liking every inch of him, but reality was far sweeter than your imagination. Before you could lean in and kiss every inch, he beat you to it. His pillowy lips grazed over the expanse of your neck before lowering down your chest and you sank your nails on his shoulders. It was the lightness of his touch, the warmth of his breath contrasting with his tongue as he explored everything until he dared lower. He moved slowly, maybe hesitated, and your hand darting to the back of his head to support him eased him.

He kissed and nuzzled every inch of your chest then settled over your sternum, breathing you in between your breasts just above the center gore. You knew why he stopped, but you were riding the shivers and throbs his every breath drew out of you, and you didn’t want it to stop. You reached behind you and unclasped the bra, letting the straps slide off your arms while you held his gaze. Yes, you wanted to do this. Yes, you wanted him to touch you, to know how he—

His hands over your waist raised to cup your breasts and rub your nipples and you shivered, goosebumps covering you from head to toe. The more he brushed over the hardened tips, the less control you had over a deep whine wanting to escape your lips.

You were biting your lip in this sweet struggle when he glanced up at you before leaning in to take one inside his mouth, and you whined. Your hips bucked over him, drawing closer while your cries grew and expanded with every lick of his tongue. You were grinding hard on him now, unaware of how unruly you were being. Your cries just needed to be heard, your hunger satiated as you searched for friction and wondered why it wasn’t as intense as it should be.

Your chest was wet by the time he parted his mouth from the delicate skin, but you didn’t have time to think about it. His hands gripped your hips to press you closer, and you jumped out of his arms in a mix of outrage and eagerness. 

So that was why you couldn’t feel him properly, you concluded, as you unbuttoned your jeans. Of course, how stupid. At least it was easily fixed.

You only stopped when your clothes hit the floor. His eyes locked with yours and you hesitated. You were totally naked in your eagerness, maybe you were going too fast. But his hands guiding yours to his shoulders before he leaned in to kiss over your tummy made you realize you were being silly. His eyes were glistening, looking up at you before closing to enjoy the taste of your skin, his cheeks were red, and despite his pants, the tent was very visible. 

You wanted to be close so you raised your knee again, and once more he guided you to straddle him. He kissed quickly up your chest before eying your mouth, and you obliged. Kissing him like this was more vulnerable, open, and raw, but you wanted to. His fingertips stroked your sides softly downwards and you sighed into his mouth, gripping him closer. You wanted so much more.

His hands settled atop your hips and it made you whine and wiggle so they would move. It didn’t occur to you to separate your mouths and tell him to touch you; in fact, no thoughts were occurring to you. He seemed to hesitate on where to go while palming your hips, and in the end, it was your hand that guided him to where you wanted him. You froze amidst your kiss, mouth agape as your eyes opened when his fingers skimmed your sex. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath halting as you waited for him. His eyes were set on you, carefully taking in your expression as he dared to brush lower, exploring down your mound, around your hooded clit, and gently over your folds before retracing his steps.

A strangled quiet moan had you closing your eyes to get lost. His fingers were drawing circles over your clit, ever so gently, prodding how to please you without hurting you, and you sank your nails into the back of his neck. You could worship that man now — it was all you knew as you looked at him between half-hooded eyes. Every circle brought a spark, a throb, a buck of your hips until the tension inside you made you jump away from his touch. You kissed him hard then, grabbing his head desperately — you wanted him, not just his hand.

You reached between your bodies to cup his bulge and he choked in your kiss. You pressed harder, too curious to let him breathe or get away, and searched for a way to open his pants, but it was difficult without looking. Fortunately, he understood perfectly what you wanted and got to it.

He raised you off his lap for the single moment it took him to squirm and slide his clothes down his legs before settling you over him again. His skin was burning hot against your inner thighs and as you kissed him, you imagined it was because he wanted you the same way.

You reached again for him and this time there were no barriers. You felt his hard length gently, caressing its soft skin carefully before stroking him against your palm.

He grunted into your cheek; your lips had parted so you both could focus on those new sensations. Something wet was making it easier to stroke him and press the head gently, with every movement earning you something, whether a groan, a sigh, a twitch of his fingers over your hips, or more precum.

You loved seeing and hearing every reaction, but you didn’t want to wait. You were tense and overheating, and that hard cock in your hand belonged somewhere else.

You moved on your knees to straddle him closer, positioning yourself with nothing but the intention to feel him, but you paused. Before the sight of the pink swollen tip at your entrance could steal your logic, you looked at him with an implied question. He nodded with glistening eyes, hands gripping a bit more of your ass to convey just how much he wanted this. And so you leaned to touch your foreheads before you guided him inside you.

You were unbelievably wet but still, it took a moment for him to become coated enough to slide in without any attrition. It felt like a trial and error; every time you tried sitting lower, there was resistance, and so you raised yourself and tried again. And again and again, with his fingers sinking into your skin as he hid his scrunched-up expression. Your eyebrows were knitted too, especially when he hit a particular spot, and soon he bottomed out.

You wiggled a little to make room, your tension gripping him inside you so hard that both of you groaned. You bucked your hips over him and sighed before reaching back, taking support on his legs. The hunger in his glistening eyes as he observed you taking your pleasure from him was like straight out of a dream, except he was really there, stretching you to the edge, bubbling a tension up your spine so good you knew you wouldn’t last a minute.

So you leaned forward again, palming the expanse of his chest as you let the fluttering subside for a bit. A smile bloomed on your lips as he reached to kiss your skin, supporting you closely while he grazed up your neck. Yet as it had blossomed, your smile faded when your eyebrows knitted further and your pleasure sunk in your gut. He had taken a firmer grip of you and used his leverage to thrust his hips up and into you, successfully crumbling whatever excuse of a restraint you had.

You moaned unreservedly and as he pulled away to face you without relenting, you met him with glistening eyes. It wasn’t a betrayal but because of him, you couldn’t hold back. He understood; he told you with a nod as he tried keeping the rhythm steady for you. So you hugged him to you and let the pleasure spike once, twice, until a moan burst out of you with the knot in your lower gut releasing the tension.

However long it lasted, it was long. It left you powerless and radiating heat like a furnace, only he was even hotter than you. He was sweaty under your arms and legs as you embraced him, and it mixed with your wetness and cum, but you didn’t care.

He waited for you to pull away and kiss his humid forehead before he asked, “Can I take you to bed?”

“Yes,” you sighed, still up high in your haze.

He could tell how languid you were so he picked you up carefully, hugging your legs around his waist and supporting your lower back. His heart was racing as he carried you, not because he was afraid of dropping you — no way in hell that would ever happen — but because this was really happening. He was really carrying your naked body across his apartment, your sweaty bodies pressed together after you reached your pleasure in his arms only for him to take you to bed and continue to show you how much he cared for you. He sighted the bed when your limbs squeezed him more firmly and he smiled from ear to ear. It was like carrying a koala bear who didn’t want to let go of him, and he loved that.

He sat on the bed with you on his lap before carefully supporting your back so he could lay you down gently while hovering over you and you finally blinked. 

Your senses were coming back; Namjoon was over you, caging you between his biceps while your legs laced around him. He was inside you, and even if you had forgotten, he reminded you when he moved tentatively. Your eyes were set on his, and that was how you saw the concern crossing them, and you blinked again. You and him were connected like you had only ever dreamed, and it was good. You reached to cup his cheeks and guide his mouth to yours; you wanted him to know that. That you knew what you were doing, with whom, and how, and your heart was completely in it.

If he wasn’t kissing your lips, then he was pecking the tip of your nose, grazing your cheeks, or brushing down the column of your neck as his hips gained speed. You raised yours to feel him as deep as possible, and as you held onto him, you let the emotions flood you. The safety of his arms, the completeness as he filled up all the gaps, the nurture of every tender kiss, the shared warmth, tension, and torture of your bodies rocking together. You were meshed inextricably in an ascent that you had never dared to imagine, and you grabbed him even harder, in case the intensity had you floating away.

Your voice had a life of its own; every time he sank further into you, your soul expanded. Every time he buried himself inside you, your moan released into his ear, and over and over again as he hid in your neck, revering you in all the ways he could.

“You feel so good,” he rasped against your throat, and against all odds you heard it in between moans. Maybe because he was slowing down. He pulled away to face you so closely you saw him blurred despite your eyeglasses, “I don't want it to end.”

Your eyes widened and watered but no words came out in time; he pressed your lips sweetly and you buried your fingers in his hair, feeling your heart swelling with every beat. He restarted his hips, guided by your legs pressing him into you, and you thought that nothing else mattered than him knowing. You also didn’t want it to end, you wanted to stay with him forever, linked, safe, accepted, hidden from anything that wasn’t blissful peace, and happiness.

His hips snapping into yours brought groans, moans, and whines out of the both of you, with wet sloppy sounds echoing in the bedroom along with the slaps of skins colliding. It became fast, forcing you to wrap your limbs around him firmly to never miss any sensation he could give you until you tensed unbelievably.

You surrendered to your climax immediately, letting it wash over you as you throbbed and reveled in scream-inducing spasms. He grunted and swore into your neck, but to your surprise, he didn’t come with you. On the contrary, suddenly you could feel his intent to pull out so you crossed your legs behind him and searched for his ear so you could tell him, “Inside me. Stay inside me.”

He groaned and you rocked with him, keen on extending both your pleasure as much as possible when he twitched inside you. You closed your eyes and his lips immediately caught yours. He kissed you with every peak, groaning into your mouth at every turn, making you shudder.

He stilled and you kept petting his damp hair at the back of his head, slowly waiting for both your hearts to calm down. You couldn’t believe what just happened yet at the same time it was as natural as breathing.

Finally, he moved from the crook of your neck and faced you. A single drop of sweat dripped along his nose to the tip and you caught it with your fingertip. He nuzzled you then, recovering his breath with a tender smile, and you smiled back.

[thatbennybee]

ChordStriker!AU Q&A

I'm doing a bit of a Q&A about my ChordStriker!AU on insta after sharing this teaser WIP, so I figured I'd present some of the questions here! (Feel free to ask more btw!)

↓↓↓

Rock!Poppy

Q: "Is Poppy's family (Peppy & Viva) still with her since the Bergens didn't attack them?"

A: Peppy is with her, but he is confused/in mental decline like canon King Thrash was. Viva is missing. Poppy was old enough to remember her.

Q: "Will Viva play somewhat of a role in this AU?"

A: Yes, she's had a much bigger impact on Poppy's life, even till this day even though she's been missing for many years now. Poppy has never stopped looking for her.

Q: "Is King Peppy still a liar in your AU?"

A: Nah, he's normal. Sometimes hating him with my entire being is hard, so he gets to be a good dad this time. He's just not all there mentally so Poppy is more like his caretaker now.

Q: "Poppy's relationships don't last long because she gets bored... So how long is Branch going to last?"

A: The Rat Pack (Snack Pack) is wondering the same thing, but Poppy's never used the bf/gf/partner labels before meeting him which is strange... ����

Q: "Does Poppy still party?"

A: She's a total party animal! Her parties are even more intense than a Pop Troll party since Rock Trolls are pretty extreme. LOL

---

Pop!Barb (Barbie)

Q: "What does Barb look like?"

A: For now, this is her design, it might change once I have time to draw her digitally.

Q: "Does this mean Barb has to go through the events of Trolls 1?"

A: Nope, Barb never befriends Bridget because they have never met. They have found a way to remain undetected in the forest. (Thanks to Branch’s constant nagging about safety)

Q: "How does Barb's gang look? Is there any significant differences in their dynamics?"

A: I haven't had time to finish them all, but here's some of them for now. There's more members of The Lunch Rush, but this is all I have for now!

Val Thundershock → Valentina Wondershock.

Only Queen Barbie calls her Val. She is very optimistic & loves to sing & dance! She's Barbie’s right-hand troll, BFFL & knows everything about her. They have a very... "close" relationship. ;] She's a popstar who's managed by Demo and loves to help make Pop Village a happier place.

Riff

He's a university student studying to be an engineer. He's very soft spoken, doesn't like to make a fuss and is probably the nicest guy around. He's quite close to Barbie and sees her as an older sister. He's actually on friendly terms with Branch. His favorite treat is lollipops. 🍭

Carol

But you can call her Carrie! Everyone does. She's a bit of a diva, loves to look good & dull things bore her. She will ignore anything that doesn't catch her eye, even trolls. Best to be looking your very best!

Sid Fret

Just call him Sid, no need to be so formal. He is every trolls dream guy and he knows it! He's a great roller derby racer and loves the attention trolls give him. Sure, he's a little self-absorbed, but he's a very loyal friend.

Demo

Not much has changed about Demo. He's perfect as he is <3 He's just a little more excitable & cutesy than before. He cares about Valentina a lot & they are very close friends.

Petra

She is the blueprint, she's the moment, she's everything. A model, actress, singer, you name it, she can do it. She's perfect... Who doesn't want to be her?

---

Branch

Q: "How different is Branch in this AU vs canon Branch?"

A: He is the same Branch essentially, just without the development he gains at the end of Trolls 1 & so-on. None of it occurred, so he is still grey, miserable & a recluse. He helped Barb to come up with a plan to keep everyone safe after nagging & warning her for ages, but after that, he returned to his bunker & is still not well-liked by the village.

Q: "Does she know Branch's whole past? If she does, what was her reaction?"

A: Not sure if you meant Barb or Poppy, so I'll answer for both. Barb—no. I don't think she'd ever find out, and she's also not the type to ask. Their personalities clash a bit too much, she stays out of his way like he asks her to.

For Poppy—I think it would come up naturally in conversation after a while when Branch feels more comfortable sharing. Poppy isn't the type to pry, but makes it clear that it's out of understanding, not a lack of caring. She can tell that he is closed off for a reason. She relates to that. I think she'd be beyond pissed once he told her, though.

Q: "Will Branch's brothers be in this?"

A: Yes, but Floyd will be getting the bigger role this time.

Q: "How quickly does Branch fall for Poppy? I'm sure the answer is yes, but is he happy?"

A: I'd say he's quite guarded in the beginning. He is cautious around her for the first few weeks, but he starts to come around once he picks up on Poppy being emotionally guarded herself.

Things move quickly once their walls come down around each other, & a mutual understanding is there. Poppy fell for him first. (At least, that's what Branch lets her believe, as it was love at first sight for him, but he'd never tell her that; she'd get a big head about it.)

[crkfragmentedsouljams]

SINCE NOW EP8 OF BEAST YEAST HAS FINALLY RELEASED..(as of writing this) im gonna finally talk abt my crk au ive been thinking of for months-

Last Updated-2/25/25 (Added more DC info)

| Fragmented Souljams AU! — Introduction/Masterpost ig-

(FSAU for short)

This crk au is basically: What if the ancients loses to the beast and is now under their control? :)

| General Info:

Blog is owned by @cheesymellow (MINOR!) :D.

Fanart & Fanfiction are COMPLETELY OKAY!! Aslong as its sfw (any fanart/fanfic made by another person is not considered canon)

This is still a massive WIP and i dont have that much planned rn for this. But feel free to ask questions in my asksbox or in the comments!-

If you want you can even ask stuff to the cast (Any cookie related to BY!) Ex: “Empty Vanilla how is it like in the spire?”, or “Soulless cacao, Do you like peach baos?” <- already used questions. (Its optional to call the ancients by their AU name btw, you can still call them Pure Vanilla, Dark cacao, & Golden cheese :D)

i will sometimes reply with a doodle of the cookie but small chance it will js be dialogue depending on my day-

If you have any non-au related questions, Just ask in my main blog @cheesymellow

Eyy you interested? If you are, All character info & stories r DOWN BELOW!!

| The Lineup of characters!

—Designs & info may change in the future!

Lets start off with..

| Pure Vanilla/Empty Vanilla

(Ep7) Empty vanilla is now a shell of his former self. His souljam exploding unknowingly whilst falling down the tower.Injuring him in the chest and half of his face, even severely damaging his memories… Now with those damaged memories. He contemplates if he is “Pure Vanilla” or “Truthless Recluse”. Residing in shadow milk’s domain to find answers. (At least, thats what he’s been told.)

As for Gingerbrave, Strawberry, And Wizard cookie. They all are forced to reside in the spire. Reluctantly joining shadow milk TEMPORARILY obeying orders as they try to escape and recover Empty Vanilla’s memories. (cant think of a color palette)

– Extra Info!:

Empty Vanilla was given his name by none other than Black Sapphire! He found it fitting considering he doesn’t know what he is.

His personality is a mix of Pure Vanilla & Truthless Recluse. Kind and forgiving but sometimes rude and pissed (Mostly to Shadow Milk ☺️)

80% of the time you’ll find him sleeping. The 20% is him doing orders/chores

Also Re-learning both Light magic & Dark Moon magic. That wont go wrong right?

He can see WAYY better now and doesn’t need his staff to see! He only uses it to do magic. (which is barely)

| Golden Cheese/Lusterless Cheese

(Ep5) Burning Spice had TOOO much fun fighting with Golden Cheese that he shattered her souljam in the process. But even after doing that. He still continued to fight her until she somehow managed to escape. Crumbling and bleeding jam as she was holding a piece of her souljam. That had enough power to heal her but… She couldn’t reclaim it. For she has lost to Burning Spice. After that she manages to find Smoked Cheese and barely escape together… They’re now both lost in the desert trying to hide from the Spice Swarm.

Smoked Cheese is in worse condition. His arm almost falling off yet surprisingly still very strong. He still has the soulcheeses with him and vows to protect it with his life despite his dying state.

– Extra Info!:

Lusterless Cheese was a nickname given to her by the Spice Swarm after she lost to Burning Spice. She isnt really that shiny and golden now is she?. Only Smoked Cheese calls her Golden Cheese. (Also just a name so i can differentiate her from canon and this au)

Constantly gets reminded of that fight and is slowly losing hope

She took extra clothes from a nearby village due to hers being heavily damaged & dirty. And has wrapped bandages over all her scratches.

Her wings are slowly regrowing thanks to the bit essence of her souljam!

Speaking of souljam, Burning Spice is delighted by this change. Trying to find out what the shattered souljam can do.

| Dark Cacao/Soulless Cacao

(Ep3) Kneeling down infront of Mystic Flour as he accepts his fate and sees his souljam getting taken.. Mystic Flour attempts to turn him into flour for she feels pity for him. But alas.. No matter how hard she tried, He wouldnt disolve completely. Even after giving up. Until she realized his souljam was shaking uncontrollably, Then—Poof! Shatters unknowingly and simply loses its shine. She is lead to believe this is fate telling her that Dark Cacao could be of good use to her. So she recruits him to become his servant/devoted follower. He accepts willing to find a purpose.

As for his warriors. They are lost in beast yeast, Currently having made their own campsite while trying to find their king.

– Extra Info!:

Soulless Cacao was a name given by Cloud Hatae (Yes this 💩 is alive). Just a random nickname on spot since he has changed.

He dosent use his sword anymore. Doesn’t commit violence at all

As days go by, His memories fade away bit by bit.

He loves watering the plants of the ivory pagoda. And has made good friends with the guards and even Peach

Slowly becoming a peach bao lover..

Keeps his cape/cloak thingy as dear memory/remembrance

Thats all for now- Ill add more info soon so stay tuned

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for S behind the cut; "from Andromeda to your eye". tw: internalized dehumanization; dehumanizing it/its pronouns. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

It wants to be saved, like it thinks it’s something worth that. It wants to be–it wants–it wants Superboy’s arms around it and Superboy’s lies in its ears and to never, ever have to go back to the Agenda, even though it knows there’s no way it’s really escaped the Agenda. Not for good. Not for real. 

The Agenda made it, and it isn’t something anyone would actually save. No one’s ever saved anything the Agenda made. 

It knows Superboy tried to, though.

But it still never should’ve come here. Never should’ve done this. Never should’ve come to Superboy like–like it really thought–like it really thinks– 

“C’mon, just–come with me, okay?” Superboy says, his voice all tight and twisted up.  It–understands that. Understands that Superboy needs to take it somewhere else. Somewhere with fewer staff around, where it can be secured until either Cadmus decides what to do with it or the Agenda comes and gets it. 

“I’m sorry,” it chokes again. The first thing it ever said was a lie to the security at the door; the first thing it ever really said was an apology to someone it never should’ve gone to. 

That apology’s still the only thing it’s ever really said. 

“It’s–fine,” Superboy says, his voice stiff. “I get it. It’s fine. Just–c’mon.” 

It nods, weak and useless, and Superboy stands up and pulls it up with him, and it tries to stop crying, and he wipes the tears off its face with the heel of his glove and it just cries harder, because why would he even bother to do that, why would he even care to, that’s–that’s– 

He should’ve thrown it out. Should’ve attacked it. Should–should just– 

He’ll lock it up. He’ll take it to a holding cell and lock it up and–and he won’t leave it there for good, it knows, not if . . . not if he can help it, anyway, but . . . 

But maybe he won’t be able to help it. 

It cries some more, and Superboy wipes the tears away from the underneath of its eyes with his thumbs. No one’s ever done that before. It’s never cried before either, but–still. No one’s ever touched its face or hugged it or lied to it over things no one else would ever even care to. 

No one’s ever done a lot of things, because the clone’s only existed for a few days, but those are things it wouldn’t have thought anyone ever would. 

“What do you want me to call you?” Superboy asks as he cups its face with one hand and its shoulder with the other. It sniffles, messy and ugly, and scrubs its own glove across its eyes. Of course he asked that, it thinks. Of course he asked that like that, it thinks. Not what’s your project designation? or what’s your name?; just what do you want?

Of course he asked like that. 

“‘Babe’,” it says, because that’s not what he calls Wonder Girl, and it’s much, much better than the idea of ever hearing its subject number in his voice. 

“Movin’ kinda fast there, babe,” Superboy replies with a crooked little grin, and it almost cries again. It thinks he’s–teasing it, maybe. Making a joke. Because he thinks it’s the kind of thing that could actually laugh or find something funny or . . . 

“Sorry,” it says, scrubbing uselessly at its face. “Sorry, just–not my subject number. Not–not that. Please.” 

“Hey, far be it from me to turn down a pretty girl asking me to call her ‘babe’, you’re not walkin’ that one back on me,” Superboy mock-scoffs, flashing it a wider grin and–and– 

And Superboy sees a girl when he looks at it. He sees a girl, and a “her”, and . . . and something to comfort. Someone to . . . 

He sees a person, when he looks at it. 

It–it knew he would. It knew that. 

But he does. 

She buries her face in her hands and starts bawling, and Superboy just wraps her up in his arms again like he’s not bothered by that at all and grips her tight, making rough little hushing sounds–or maybe rough little soothing sounds–against her hair. 

She still doesn’t know how to stop crying. 

The Agenda never thought she would, so why would they have taught her how to stop?

[baronessvonglitter]

Wip Weekend

I have a lot of plates spinning right now, and I hope to have a couple of these done within the week 🤞🏽

First up I have the beginning of "The Girlfriend Experience" where reader/Angel has garnered significant success in her career.

Star of the Year Your boss's hand rests on your lower back, the heat of his palm is felt through the deep back slit of your dress. "I never had a doubt. You've been my shining star since day one," he murmurs in your ear as you gaze upon your award, your manicured finger tracing the engraved letters of your title and your name. "'Rising Star' last year, 'Star of the Year' now. How does it feel?" You take a moment to think about it because it's not an off-the-cuff question. When he asks you something, he really wants to know your answer. In the past couple years you've garnered the coveted spot within the escort agency. You've worked your way up the same as everyone else, but there's something about you that keeps your old clients coming back and the new ones intrigued.  You've serviced clients of every rank and status, from businessmen to princes in foreign lands. Even women, though being with them was so easy it rarely ever felt like work.  You've made a name for yourself, and as one of the highest grossing performers, you've earned the option to walk away right now. The money in your bank account is showing more zeroes than you've ever thought possible, and you've created the kind of life for yourself where you'll never have to worry about a thing anymore. An apartment in Paris, a brownstone in NYC, a villa in Milan, a Spanish colonial in LA.. not to mention cars you rarely need to drive because you're always being picked up and dropped off in style. You've met with movie stars, designers, everyone of importance. And you could stop working if you really want to. But you don't want to. Giving your boss a smile, you don't take your eyes from his as his hand travels from your back to your waist, gently gliding his fingers towards your breast. "It feels like I've accomplished everything I've wanted to do.. but that doesn't mean I'm done yet, Mr. Martell." He smiles, his teeth perfect and white. "Please. Call me Oberyn."

(Of course Oberyn owns an escort agency, and of course there's going to be a threesome right after this scene with him and Ellaria)

Also, "Maneater", a mini series about Maxwell Lord who's doing what he can to keep his business afloat, even if it means marrying a woman much older than him. @everybodylovedcontractors I hope you like it!

"Mr. Lord, you have a call on line one," Raquel's voice chirps over the intercom. "Who is it?" Maxwell asks, not wanting to be bothered just then. "Your fiancee, Linda St. James," she replies. "It sounds urgent." "Great," he mutters, dreading this call. He dreads all her calls. He lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Put her through." "Does my Maxi-Muffin miss me?" Linda's sickly sweet voice comes over the line. At sixty-five years old she's one of the richest widows in the country, and almost twice Max's age. "I wanted to tell you I'm still in Dallas, but my flight should arrive just in time for us to have dinner at my place tonight." "Oh Linda my dear, I am positively quivering with anticipation of seeing you again," Max lies through his teeth, lining up a shot on his desktop mini pool table. Linda continues. "I was thinking.. over dinner we could talk about that business loan I want to give you," she says in a sing-song voice.  Damn, the woman knows how to dangle a carrot. And I'm just her pet, her toy, something to show off to her friends. "Nothing would make me happier than to enjoy a fine dinner with the most.. with such a.. with my lovely bride-to-be," he manages to choke out. Ass kissing comes with the territory of business and finance, but his lack of attraction to his fiancee somehow keeps him from exaggerated compliments. "But if my dear Linda wants to discuss financing my future, then I won't stop her." "You know I love nothing more than to help you," her voice drips with sickly sweetness. "See you tonight at the mansion, honey muffin." She makes kissing sounds over the phone before she hangs up. Max hangs up with a groan of disgust. 

And some rom-com Dave, which surprised me, but I think it's really sweet. Featuring Divorce Lawyer!Dave (working on a title) but the first chapter is "Meet Cute" (will also feature Javier Pena, Tim Rockford, and maybe even Ezra..) and because I like getting ahead of myself I'm working out a spinoff rom com with Tim 👀

Dave has been waiting in line with his daughters for only fifteen minutes when the announcement is made that tickets are officially sold out. Alice and Molly look up at him, expecting him to do something, but what exactly can he do? "Look, girls, I'm sorry. We'll have to come back another day." "We wanted to see the exhibit. I wanted to take a selfie with those big neon wiggly things," Molly pouts. "I know, sweetie, but it's just not in the cards today." He ruffles her hair. There's a scent of roses as he feels someone approach the three of them. "Hey, sorry, I heard you wanted to get into the exhibit." Dave looks up and sees you, and has a momentary lapse of thought. "Um.. yes, my daughters are kind of upset that tickets sold out so quick. It's my fault for not purchasing them ahead of time." He smiles sheepishly, wondering what you must think of him. "I can get you in with me," you offer. "I have a membership pass. Kids get in free and I can bring one other person." "You don't have to do that-" "Please. I want to." You take a look at his daughters, who are looking back at you with hope in their pretty little eyes. "You'd be doing me a favor by accepting," you tell Dave. The girls tug on his hands, jumping up and down, begging him to take up your offer until he at last relents. "Okay, okay," he chuckles. "Thank you, Miss..?" You give him your name, offer your hand, which he takes in his own. He repeats it back to you, making sure he's got it right, the taste of your name like a sweet swig of wine in his mouth.

And last but not least, a little stepdad!Frankie x coquette!reader I've been cooking up. Not sure if this will be separate parts yet, or one big ol' hunk of a story, but the working title is "Kitten"

Hearing his footsteps behind you, you smirk and lean against the sink, bent over at the waist. "I think something's wrong with the drain." The sight of you like that makes his pulse quicken. He has to take a deep breath to steady himself before speaking. "What do you mean something's wrong with it?" He clears his throat gruffly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "The water's not going down," you answer, turning around, your t-shirt wet and see-through. Frankie eyes the way it clings to your body, your tits on display, nipples visible, making his mouth water. His composure is nearly lost then and there.  "Um, I'm sure it's just.." he struggles to finish the sentence, any coherent thoughts devolving into pure instinct and desire. A bright smile graces your lips. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you can fix it. I trust you with my pipes." You move past him, lightly brushing against him as you walk to your bedroom. "I've gotta get changed. Can't believe how wet I got!"

I'm working on a couple other things as well, which I may feature next week once I have some of this out of my system.

Tagging some moots who tagged me first and/or seemed interested when I bothered them with my ideas (JK y'all are my cheerleaders)

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @mermaidgirl30 @joelalorian @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981

[thatonebirdwrites]

"Promise" WIP Fics

Oh hey, an ask game, sort of! Thanks for the tag @luthordamnvers

I have too many WIPs. I'll do around 3 or 4 Supercorp and 2 Original fiction. Enjoy!

Link to Original Post.

Near the end of Act 3 for Unraveling Realities:

A sonic boom echoes in the air and the trees whip back and forth at the passage of a human-like bullet. A figure in black hovers in the air above her, the violet energy crackles around her form, and the sun dims from the grey fog.

“Lena.” The voice doesn’t even sound like Kara. The accent thick and not quite like Red Daughter’s. Lena isn’t entirely sure who came — Power? Red Daughter? Some other personality that Kara has hidden away?

“Hi.” Lena attempts a smile. “Will you come down to talk?”

“Who do you call, Lena?” The Kara-like person drifts closer. Her eyes glow a deep violet. “Kara? Do you truly think she exists still?”

Lena raises an eyebrow. “Interesting choice of words. To whom am I speaking then?”

Violet lightning sparks in her hands, but she floats closer, her feet nearly touching the ground. “Who I am is not important. My deeds speak for me.”

She’s almost close enough. “Everyone has a name,” Lena says with a hint of flirtation in her voice. That tone always got Kara to blush in the past. “If you’re so shy, I can promise not to tell anyone.” She leans closer and holds out a hand.

A faint pulse of her magic tickles her palm from deep within Kara’s body.

________________

Floor is Lava (writing it with @nottawriter)

“So you know Kelly Olsen? I’m buddies with her through work contacts. She is the fiance of Alex Danvers. I’ve only met Alex a few times, but I think she might have a sister. I don’t recall her name though."

“Huh. If they’re related, then dang, what a small world we live in.” Lena chose the dark violet thread for the shirt. If she was going to mend it, she might as well stitch fun patterns for Lori. She loved the designs Lena came up with. It was a fun hobby that kept her hands busy. Especially as she promised her therapist she’d not work on her days off. That wasn’t an easy task. Already her mind was drifting back toward some of the architect projects she was working on with colleagues.

“It’d be awesome if so! So when is this date? What’re you going to wear? Where’re you going?”

Lena laughed at Sam’s eagerness. “Sam! We haven’t decided on that. Kara suggested it, but she had to head out to her next client I presume. She said she’d call.” Part of her was worried that Kara wouldn’t call her. That maybe it was too much of a dream come true. A beautiful woman who was good with Lori? Who seemed kind and generous?

________________

Where Do We Go From Here? (Worldkiller Kara, still debating how to end this one, but it'll eventually go onto AO3):

"I need to be locked up." A hopelessness coats her voice. She turns and winces at the shattered table and microscope. Zips forward, and before Lena can say a word, she stands in the center of the room with the power dampening handcuffs. "Please, put this on me."

Lena winces as she pushes herself off the floor. Each step feels like a mile, her body aching from the attack prior. She doesn't want to do this, but what she just experienced has made it clear Kara isn't safe right now.

She takes the cuffs and looks at Kara. "I promise you I’ll fix this," she says, firmly. "You and Sam are going to get through this alive, okay?" She clips the dampeners over Kara's wrists and adjusts the settings to its max. "I won't stop until you're both cured."

Kara smiles, sadly. "I know. I trust you."

_________________

Anamchara (I posted the start of this on Tumblr in response to an ask by someone, but am still working on it off and on. Full story will eventually go on AO3):

"Yes," Lena replied, which Kara dimly noted answered none of her questions. Turning toward the bar again, Lena tapped the counter three times.

The bartender walked over with a smile, their blue skin glistened with sweat, and in their six-fingered hand, they cleaned a glass. "We'd like the Anamchara please."

The bartender narrowed their eyes. "You sure about that? Pretty permanent stuff."

Lena waved her hand. "I've heard the rumors that it’s magic to find one’s soulmate. I promise you I’ve researched this thoroughly." She gently touched Kara's arm. "Companion here agreed, right darling?"

Kara nodded. "Sure thing. Let's do the Anamchara." She downed the rest of her rum, her brain even foggier.

And that was the last thing Kara remembered.

_________________

Original Fiction: Telemores (set in Elivera world; note that Mǔmoshǔ's pronouns are vi/vir/vis):

“Must say this case boggled my mind,” Visikar admitted. “Never heard of stealing energy to ‘ascend,’ which still makes no sense to me. Were they trying to be immortal?”

“Perhaps.” Vi thought through past cases. Ability abuse was one of their specialties and often why vi got transferred to a new city or town to assist local justice councils. Most cases were never this dire. “Must review Anata’s notes to see her definition. Let us hope there is not more like her.”

Visikar frowned and took a swig of her alcoholic drink. “We’ll find them if there are.”

Mǔmoshǔ listened to the quiet hum of muffled conversation from the other stalls, the wooden walls between each table not quite thick enough to muffle all sound waves. “Visikar, ready to honor your promise? Tale of the statue in garden?” Mǔmoshǔ took a sip of the Niaz tea.

Visikar smiled. “Sure can.”

__________________

Original Fiction: Dragios Twins: The Lost Ones (from Chapter 1):

She pressed her forehead against my shoulder. Her silence made me more and more scared. She was thinking about death again. I was sure of it.

"Kia, please."

She lifted her head. "Promise me that no matter what happens, you will find the truth." Anxiety clutched my stomach at her words. "Just… I want to help. Because so much don't add up. Your Mom. Her sister. All those secrets they got. And that specialist. Oh, gosh, this weird music and our synced dreams. We're gonna need a list for it all." Kia shook her head. "I'm not saying this well."

"Don't." I protested. "You're better. Remember no negative self-talk?"

Kia smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes this time. "My biggest supporter. I'm in remission, sure. But I didn't wanna say, but my check-up Friday was odd. Sure, doctor said it was possibly nothing, but something has 'em rankled. Secrets again." She laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it.

________________________

And that's it for now. I have a few other original fiction works I'm working on, but funnily enough they didn't have the word promise in them. Huh.

I'm not sure who to tag that hasn't already been tagged. I guess no-pressure tags for: @nottawriter, @kj-yikes @s-nebul0sa @sssammich and anyone else who'd like to play.

[snepfeathers]

a little wip! it's about time I introduced an oc here other than Aleyxi, so meet Callisto! (and Europa and Ganymede, by extension)

Callisto is what you get when you try to make a werewolf out of someone who is already decidedly canine and anthropomorphic - a wereberus! were-cerebus. Three times as much wolf in your wolf, right there.

...Maybe a bit more than three times as much on occasion. Three heads does mean three times the appetite, after all. Gotta store extra energy for your next transformation, y'know! Go ahead and eat up, you ever know just how much you'll need.

I'm still working out her actual markings/palette, but this gets the main idea across. Europa is the extra head looking at the pie, and Ganymede is the head with both ears folded. Callisto's overall design is going to draw on Jupiter's moons, they're so pretty... and she's good at living up to her namesake.

If anyone's noticed the name pattern and is wondering where Io is, I'll throw some stuff under the cut for you.

I'm still trying to decide exactly how I want to include Io. Io stands out from the other Galilean moons anyway, it's super volcanically active instead of being icy like Ganymede, Callisto, and Europa. It's a monster world.

My current thought is either bellymaw or tailmaw - either way, they wouldn't make appearances all too often. Probably only during transformations when there's an absurd amount of magic around, like lunar eclipses or close to special days like Halloween.

I think I'm really leaning more towards tailmaw at this point. It would even play into some of the myths that describe Cerberus as having snake heads instead of just dog heads, hah. Still just brainstorming it at this point, though. Thoughts and suggestions are welcome!

[constellationandcompendium]

Writeblr Intro

Greetings traveller!

About Me:

She/her, early 30s

PhD graduate working in heritage

British (obsessed with tea)

Also sings and crochets

Enjoys both Star Trek & Star Wars

Occasional NaNoWriMo participant

Fanfic writer of 15 years making the jump into original fiction (find my fandom blog @thetamehistorian)

Happy to take asks / play tag games etc.

Has a habit of designing covers rather than writing

Second attempt at this blog (main blog this time, cha cha real smooth)

Tends To Write / Read

Sci-Fi & Cyberpunk

Urban Fantasy & Fantasy

Historical

Comedy (this suprised me too)

Introducing My WIPS

A crime thriller with a touch of cyberpunk...

Featuring

Man with habit of doing wrong thing for right reason

Best buds to reluctant allies to ‘I would die for you’

That ‘I can’t believe you’ve done this’ meme

Conspiracies and double agents

Lots of angst and hurt (with some comfort)

Wholesome parent / child relationships

Summary

Solaris City has a problem. Whilst the metropolis flourishes, down below in the old mines the Undercity grows wild and dangerous, it’s people cut off from the prosperity above, dreaming of the sun and spreading Haze - an addictive drug.

Elias also has a problem. Working for the Bureau has cleaned his slate but he hasn’t cut all ties with those underground. Now there’s a girl hidden in his flat and something big has been uncovered that has his contacts in a flurry.

With two days to go to a vote on unifying the two halves of the city, and his friend Sebastien caught right in the middle, Elias has a feeling that it'll only take one domino falling for everything to come crashing down.

Work Page

First Draft Complete, If Messy (Mind the Plot Holes)

A sci-fi comedy of a ship of misfits...

Featuring

Puns for ship names (and just bad jokes in general)

Captain packing up the ship and all its crew because they can no longer thrive in this household

Overly social parents (please stop inviting my professor over to dinner)

Space worker unions (and aliens)

Learning self-worth and finding strength through working together

Found family

Summary

The United Earth Ship Archimedes patrols the border of charted space. Beyond it - the vast and unexplored reaches of the universe.

It’s an exciting prospect for Aster Kobor, newly graduated from the fleet academy and hoping to make her mark upon the stars. Unfortunately, it only takes a few weeks for Aster to realise that the Archimedes is nicknamed ‘the screw’ for a reason. It’s a ship for the rejects and misfits, those deemed unfit to serve in the frontier ships and command never lets them do anything exciting. Still, Aster is determined to make the best of it and, unbeknownst to her, her meddling Captain is about to give the crew of the Archimedes their chance to show command what they're made of.

Soon a bad reputation is the least of their troubles and, whether the crew like it or not, they’ll have to learn to survive in deep space - where their only certainty is each other.

Work Page

Currently Wrangling Vibes Into ~ Characters ~ and ~ Plot ~

A historical novel about determined women, trains, and winning a war…

Featuring

One woman’s obsession with the railways

Code breaking commuters

Breakfasts cooked on a coal shovel

Being accidentally adopted by an elderly fireman and driver duo

Occasional air raid for added ~spice~

Solidarity in the face of adversity and outdated systems

Summary

Bea had always been fascinated by the railways, but her dream of driving one of the locomotives always seemed out of reach. Working the trains is dangerous, dirty, and completely off limits to the fairer sex.

Then the war came and the men went off the fight. Answering the call to help, Bea and her fellow railway volunteers find themselves with an opportunity of a lifetime. Obscured from judging eyes by steam and smoke they shadow the veteran drivers and engineers, learning what they can on the job and hitting the library when they can't.

The trains need to run, they are vital to the war effort. All it would take is one rogue bomb, one mishap to take out a driver and the wheels stop spinning.

Or at least, that's what the station manager thinks.

Work Page

Currently Doing Research and Initial Planning!

[taralen]

"You do what I ask of you. Addisons don't ask questions; they merely do. Now do what you're told and get in that swimsuit. We're crunching time and need this photo shoot done by tomorrow. Hop to it!"

Several weeks ago, I dreamed about wearing a really uncomfortable green swimsuit and was forced to have photos taken of me in it. I thought the idea was so specific and strange that I had to include it in one of my stories. Well, I decided Theta gets to suffer!

This plays into some further lore-building I've been cooking that focuses on one of the antagonists, Nagela, and her complicated relationships with Spamton and Theta during the 1990s. I also decided to give him a new suit for fun. Who said he has to wear the same red suit all the time anyway?!

[[NOTE: This is a continuation of something I am working on for my AU, LoveLetter. Click on Nagela's name in the previous section to take you there. Everything is still WIP!]]

During a follow-up meeting, Nagela spoke to Spamton privately concerning his unusual nervous behavior at the fashion show. He insisted that he was merely on edge from the "excitement of it all" since it was the first fashion show he had ever attended. She subtly pressed him for why he looked at that girl the way he did when they passed by her. Spamton maintained his previous statement of "never meeting her before."

Nagela still had her suspicions. She didn't want to entertain the idea that Spamton would ever be interested in any woman besides herself, so she devised a plan to catch him off-guard. Several photo shoots were already scheduled for the sponsored clothing lines she was expanding the collection on, and this gave her the perfect opportunity to test him.

In every previous photo review, Spamton never showed any interest in the models, no matter how alluring or sensual. His face remained professional, impartial, and disinterested in the Addisons wearing the clothes he would choose to sponsor. If he liked one, he'd "poach" the design from her and have it labeled under G. SHARP, his own clothing brand.

Nagela chose Theta to wear one of the most revealing swimsuits of the DEEP BLUE swimsuit line, catered to an adult demographic with erotic tastes. She pitched the line to Spamton before, and though he was somewhat intrigued, he had not made any final decisions to sponsor it.

Theta was a modest woman. Though she was beautiful, as most Addison women are, she was not quite beautiful enough for most modeling gigs due to her short stature and the unusual "dead pixels" that made her face "defective." At first, her heart raced at the idea of modeling for the luxurious NAGELA SAX company and its namesake proprietor, but once Nagela revealed what she wanted her to wear, a wave of discomfort and fear consumed her.

"Surely, there is someone better for this one?" Theta uttered as she held it before her.

Nagela loomed over, finger jabbing into her chest. "You do what I ask of you. Addisons don't ask questions; they merely do. Now do what you're told and get in that swimsuit. We're crunching time and need this photo shoot done by tomorrow. Hop to it!"

Holding back tears, she retreated to the dressing room. The bathing suit revealed too much, and the fabric pulled in all the wrong places. Still, she went out as she was told and took part in the provocative photoshoot, having to constantly be reminded to smile and "look natural."

With all the necessary shots taken, Nagela told her, "Great. Hopefully, these will get him to sponsor DEEP BLUE." Theta didn't need to know the name to understand exactly who she was referring to.

Once she made it to the safety of her apartment, she stepped into the shower, turned the water up as hot as he could handle, and scrubbed herself with a loofa until her skin reddened from friction and heat. Her mind wandered as she stared at the streams of water trailing down her expressionless face, circling down the drain. She had wanted his eyes on her, but she never expected it to be like this! Complex emotions swirled within her, filling her with a sense of uncertainty and dread piled upon a small speck of something deeper... Warmer.

[[DURING THE NEXT MEETING WITH SPAMTON]]

Nagela mixed her photos in with the others for Spamton to see. She wanted to test his reaction. If the girl meant nothing to him, he would surely react the same way he did with the other models.

But he didn't.

Spamton's eyes widened, and the cigarette slacked in his mouth. The tips of his fingers twitched ever so slightly, causing the paper to tremble. The faint hint of pink colored his white face.

That was not the reaction Nagela wanted to see.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "Huh?" He laughed nervously. "Nothing's wrong!" "I know you, and something is definitely wrong." She smirked and smoked her cigarette, seemingly cool and composed as ever, but a burning jealousy festered inside her. "I wasn't expecting to see such a..." He waved his hand in a circular motion. "Provocative swimsuit?" He snapped his fingers. "That's it! Right, well, I wasn't expecting to see it mixed in with the rest of these. I'm admittedly taken off-guard." "I slipped it in as a surprise, just to see your reaction. It's part of the DEEP BLUE line you showed interest in. Does this help sway your decision?" She smirked. "Will you sponsor it now?" "Is that it?" Spamton laughed, his brows furrowed. He hummed and took a moment to think it over. "To be honest, no. It's too..." He fingered through the photos. "Racy for your tastes?" Nagela grinned. "Yes, and I, um, wasn't expecting you to pick her as a model. Didn't you say she doesn't have the right 'stuff' for that?" He chuckled and scratched his cheek. Nagela pushed her cigarette into an ash trash, her eyes boring into Spamton's face. "I figured. I know your tastes very well, Mr. Spamton. I picked her because her skin tone complements that color very well, perhaps even more than a Pink Addison's would. I could have modeled it myself, of course, for my skin is just as fair, but you know me—I could never wear something so erotic. It may be my product, but it's clearly not made for either me or you."

Spamton stared at the photos again, trying to keep his composure. Complicated feelings swelled inside him, many of which he fought not to indulge in. This girl disturbed him. Seeing her made his throat tight and sweat bead on his forehead, but another part of him was drawn to her gentle smile, deep, dark eyes, and soft... NO, not going there! He wanted to get away from this strange little woman. In all the places he'd been, there was no one like her, a White Addison, just like he used to be. They seemed to always inevitably cross paths, no matter where he went, even if she did not notice him. Seeing her made his stomach churn and his mind numb, but he couldn't afford to show this weakness to Nagela.

He didn't want anyone to know his mind was spiraling over his decision to accept the deal offered by that call...

The one he felt destined to take because he believed he was...

Alone.

[lovelopmon]

My take/version of the families/ships in the Adventure 02 Epilogue for my WIP: Part 1

Digimon was one of the many shows of my childhood. Despite the fact that none of my ships were "canon" in the epilogue (RIP Taiora, Takari, Daikari, Koumi, hell maybe Jyouora or Jyoumi), I still didn't mind it. My main issues were with many of the professions (mostly with the female characters, who all had ideal, stereotypical, feminine jobs).

Anyway, here's how I have the families play out for my WIP. Under the cut are the Adventure 01 kids (minus TK and Kari).

Tai and Meiko:

Okay, so don't kill me, but I thought/think they were/could be cute. There's potential here, and since Taiora didn't happen, why couldn't they? The stares and nods in the beginning of Tri were cute! Hot-heated leader x shy, new girl could learn a lot from one another. They both have a tendency to blame themselves for things out of their control, they both had their Digimon partners digivolve uncontrollably (on multiple occasions). Tri left crumbs for these two, they just weren't aware that the crumbs were stale lmao.

Tai would go pro in soccer, retire, and eventually become a Digiworld field agent for the National Data Processing Bureau; transporting back and forth and responding to Digimon related emergencies both in the Digiworld and the human world. He'd eventually move up and become a Special Agent in Charge in the Digiworld Enforcement division.

Meiko works at the Digital Center for Virus Control and Prevention as the Executive Assistant Director, to ensure other Digimon don't become infected like Meicoomon.

They have one son together, named Makoto.

Sora and Matt:

Again, don't kill me, but even as a Taiora shipper, Sorato could make sense.

Fashion design for Sora was definitely...a choice. I'm all for Sora becoming more in tuned with her femininity, just not at the cause of her actual character and interests. So instead, I'd have her go pro in Tennis. Afterwards, she'd help her mother run the flower shop. She would also be a volunteer agent for the NDPB, stepping in for emergencies when needed.

Matt manages to stick with a band and finds relative success, partly due to being one of the OG Digidestined. Afterwards, the band retires and Matt goes solo for a bit, he even releases a pop-rock collab with Mimi. He eventually throws in the towel and launches his own music label and opens a listening bar with live music from his own acts. He occasionally performs there if he's feeling nostalgic. Like his wife, he too is a volunteer agent for the NDPB.

Despite their stubbornness, which made their marriage a bit rockier than most, the two are still happily married with two kids; a daughter named Mizuki and a son named Shinji.

Izzy and Mimi:

Now, unlike the other two, these two would get together somewhat unconventionally (and angsty).

Initially, Mimi would marry Michael while Izzy married another woman. Mimi would be an idol, a worldwide celebrity with many ventures in the entertainment industry (a book biography on the events of Digimon Adventure from her POV, a cooking show where she invites celebrities, an occasional voice actress, performed in quite a few live theatre productions, owns a fashion line, etc.)! An actor and singer well known in both worlds, both in America and Japan, on top of being one of the Original 12 Digidestined who is a volunteer agent whenever an emergency strikes. She even became an ambassador, to meditate between the Digital World and the human world seeing as she was the one to rally allies toward the end of Adventure. Michael, being the son of a famous action star already, would eventually get tired of all the attention it came with being her husband (not to mention how busy her hectic schedule is). This would lead to Mimi and Michael bickering, which would lead to resentment, which would then lead to divorce.

All the while, Izzy and his unnamed wife, who he had met in college, would be happily married until her untimely death in a car accident. Umeko was only three years old. For a while, Izzy buried himself in his work as the new head of the Digital World Cybersecurity division at the NDPB, as well as being a scientist and researcher at the Digital Center for Virus Control and Prevention, being a television Digital Consultant, and giving an occasional lectures at universities. Mimi, in the midst of her divorce, would reach out to an overworked Izzy. While Izzy denied it, Mimi would offer a helping hand or just an ear for him to vent to. Izzy's cold and distant shell eventually cracked, and the two bonded over their tumultuous marriages and busy work schedules. The two officially started dating two years prior to the events of the Epilogue, and remarried when Umeko (Izzy's biological daughter, who he calls Mech for short) was 8 and Akihiko (Mimi and Michael's biological son) was 9, a year prior to the beginning of the WIP.

Both Umeko and Akihiko were fine with their parents remarrying, and accepted each other as siblings seeing as they were friends prior. Mimi and Michael are now civil (as are Michael and Izzy) and Akihiko and Michael speak almost every day. Occasionally, he visits his dad in America during the holidays.

Joe:

Joe's pretty easy. He married the girlfriend he was dating in Digimon Adventure Tri, the bike girl from the Digimon Adventure 02 movie. He and Chieko (the name I'm giving her) both become family doctors, while Joe also becomes one of the first human doctors with Digimon patients.

They have one son together, named Yuji.

[shadow-pixelle]

WIP game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

@bloggerspam did an open tag with the word 'SPAM', so here I am!

S- Braided Fates (DCxDP)

“So why do you all keep calling us ‘your Highness?’” Sam asked Fright Knight, who seemed to be looking at them with something like amusement. Tucker and Danny immediately stopped smirking at each other, turning to look at Fright Knight curiously. The ghost tilted his head. “You are King Phantom’s partners, are you not?” All three of them went red. “What-” “I mean-” “We’re not-” They looked at Danny. Danny looked at them. He shrugged. “The betting pool in Amity is there for a reason.” “Yes, that reason being that Val wanted to profit off our misery.” Sam grumbled, like crossing her arms and looking away would hide her blush.

P- An unnamed FNaF fic that's very slow going

“Perhaps.” Gregory frowned. That didn’t sound confident at all, and if the engineer lady had known them for as long as he thought- she was the head engineer, which probably meant that she’d been here for a long time, and apparently she’d also designed their batteries, too- then Freddy should have more confidence that she wouldn’t hurt them. Or damage. Whichever it was. Either way it didn’t make any sense, especially not with how nice Engineer Chandler was being to Freddy, calling him nicknames and things. Which meant Freddy was probably hiding something.

A- Swooping (DC)

All of it meant he had a good backup for trouble. With a huff that was half a sigh, he turned away from the little vigilante- hero, maybe, he couldn’t remember how folks out of Gotham did that kinda thing- after making sure the boy wouldn’t be waking up for a bit. Not just cause of what he’d done; the kid smelled sick, and he hadn’t looked anything like he’d expected from someone doing hero stuff, especially not someone who was out hunting for one of Gotham’s big ‘problems’. But the kid was out cold, unconscious against the wall, and Waylon’d made sure to strip his obvious weapons off of him so if he did wake up or was faking it he’d not be able to cause problems. Then he went and called the Colony. If nothing else, they’d want to know about the new kid running around trying to do hero stuff in the city. Hopefully it wouldn’t turn out like Batgirl had; Waylon kinda liked this kid’s guts. But at least if it did the kid wouldn’t be running into Gotham’s sewers after the local lizard beast half cocked, without backup, and sick.

M- Maskless (Star Wars/Hollow Knight)

Myrna was more reorganising the storage room for the sake of avoiding his rage than out of an actual need to organise anything. It didn’t mean it was working, unfortunately, but it could at least let him pretend. It’s methodical enough that he can do it without thinking, which means that of course all he can do is think. Exactly the thing he doesn’t want to do. Lurk is living up to their Name, sitting on the edge of one of the shelves and watching silently. There’s probably another Shade hovering in the shadows somewhere. The company would be nice, if it wasn’t for what was causing it. It’s been a week. Myrna’s still fuming.

'P' was a struggle, seriously. I also didn't realise how often I start sentences with an 'A'.

Anyway, @shootingstarpilot, @kalicofox and @greentrickster, have some fun with this if you'd like! This is an open tag as well, so if you see it feel free to come join. Your word is ECHO.

[book-girl4evaaa]

❝ Sheeesh, even I'm not that crazy.❞

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"Dynasties and Dystopia"

00:47 ━━●─────── 02:39ㅤ ㅤ

◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ↻ ♡

First of all rp blogs so you know who I am 😭 @ask-the-great-heather-chandler @goodness-knows-glinda @juni-riversss @westerbergs-therapist (the last 2 are ocs)

"And blah, blah, blah. Did I miss anything?"

Call me Bea or Eva (not my real name(s), and I like Bea better tho) ⸙ minor ⸙ libra ⸙ geeky ⸙ Athena Cabin ⸙ book lover ⸙ bilingual ⸙ aspec most likely ⸙ free Palestine 🍉 ⸙ British, unfortunately (🥄) ⸙ major Gracie Abrams fan ⸙ Infp-t personality ⸙ ambivert ⸙ African pride ⸙ theatre kid ⸙pepper soup enthusiast ⸙ writer ⸙ artist ⸙ Jinx is my wife ⸙ singer (sort of) ⸙nerd ⸙dancer ⸙ fangirl ⸙sport-lover ⸙ daydreamer ⸙ hopeless romantic ⸙ future designer ⸙ glasses gang ⸙ arsonists ⸙ tag me in poetry! ⸙ green, blue and purple>>> ⸙ chaotic good ⸙ in a world of heathers be a Veronica ⸙ either a lesbian or bi (Im still on the fence tbh) ⸙ Maeddie shipper ⸙

I'm always ready to make new friends (no creeps, please) so please talk to me! (Also I'd like to add, no donation asks please as I'm a minor and cannot help you, it just stresses me out)

Currently in my: Arcane, Heathers, and Matilda phase!

Dislikes/Dni: basic dni, and then just anyone unkind. Also I'd prefer if 25+ and hate anons stay away

Fandoms I'm active in: Pjo, Tpq, Kotlc, Gilded, Hamilton, MCU, agggtm, Matilda the musical, Amari and the night brothers, the hunger games, six of crows, the folk of the air, Wicked, This Book kills, heathersssssssssssssssss, wicked, arcane and many more!

If you need someone to blurt random facts, rant about life, or just yap then I'm your girl! Feel free to give me nicknames and chat about random stuff :)

Also, send me asks, please :)

Moots

Other relations : @kiya-cannibal-bug (mum) @sleep-can-wait (wife) @manically-depressedd-psychopath (baby daddy (?!??!!?!)) @shrxe (child)

Nicknames: Beatrice (by Turtle I miss her :() Beanie (by Shree) Belle (by Tina) Bee (by Myna and Fishy) Bea Bee (by Loife) Bumble Bee (by Ife mi <3333 (archivist)) Bear (by Kitcat) Beezus (by Riyana) (Bea)utiful (by Leta) Beanana (by Abby) Bea Bea Girl (by Maddie)

I can speak English, yr 9 level Spanish, tiny bits of Hindi (don't ask) and a few insults in yuroba

DNI if you are: a Zionist, a creep, a misogynist, sexist, racist, homophobic, transphobic, or just mean/disrespectful.

personal tags: #bea updates - any random og post • #[Bea reblogs] - reblogging a post • #[Bea's on the line] - answering an ask • #bea's wip - self explanatory

"Always with you, Sis."

Side blogs:

@step-into-my-candystore (my heathers/musical blog)

@she-used-to-bea-mine (my vent blog)

So have a good day, be kind, and love yourself<333

This blog supports Palestine

If you don't, please leave me alone :)

Don't forget your daily clicks!

Byeee! <333

All images from Pinterest, dividers by me :)

I hope you enjoyed my ✨ extremely aesthetic ✨ intro post!

(pfp is Jinx from Acane :])

[newtknewit]

calanthe looks pretty cool, you have more info about her?

Calanthe is a surviving basilisk adopted by Hunter and Willow in my WIP NextGen AU! Here's some quick information before I delve into that whole backstory: Name: Calanthe Species: Basilisk Pronouns: He/her Age: Roughly 14-16 Tracks: Potions and Plants primarily She was accidentally uncovered when Darius led a search party to clear out the old Emperor's Coven laboratory in search of lost information that they could record (with Hunter as a guide, since he knew where the labs were, and the basilisks were too afraid to go anywhere near the area). To everyone's surprise, Belos incubated another batch of basilisks after the first ones had escaped, but died before they could hatch. In the incubation process, without the proper care they needed, all other eggs died except for one: Calanthe. Hunter was the first to discover Calanthe, after being hit with intense memories of the lab and hallucinating. At least he thought he was hallucinating when a vision of himself appeared, turns out it was a basilisk moulding into his form. When he realised this was a physical being, he freaked out at first. Then he saw the black-rimmed blue eyes. The basilisk had imprinted on him, taking on his form as they may typically do as babies. It turned back into a small yellow python-patterned basilisk with blue eyes and light brown hair, to which Hunter and the group had taken it to the Healing Coven for inspection, and later Hunter and Willow had adopted the basilisk since 1. no one else could, and 2. it had already imprinted on them. In this AU, alongside primarily being a palisman carver, Hunter secondarily works with Darius to protect the Boiling Isles' children, creating better safety laws for all and putting more protection in place for the young ones. At the time he discovered and adopted Calanthe, Hunter would've probably been around 25 and was taking part as a student in a school that retaught important life lessons to those who didn't get to learn them. After finishing up with these classes, he transitioned to parenting schools in order to do his best for Calanthe. Willow is living the dream of leading the Emerald Entrails into constant victories, and reassures Hunter that he doesn't need to go to these schools, but he insists, as he absolutely despises the idea of becoming similar to Belos in any way. -Which Willow is actually quite proud of and inspired by.

Thanks to Willow and Hunter, Calanthe gets to live a perfectly normal and happy life, being able to embrace his basilisk side while being treated with the same love and normalcy that every child deserves. Calanthe has changed her appearance many times throughout her life, and still does till this very day, switching it up every now and then when she gets bored. Her primary/favourite appearance is taking inspiration from Willow's fringe, Hunter's face, and a mix between both of their body shapes. This is still a heavy WIP! However, some characters I am planning to add are: Luz + Amity's kids Boscha's child, possibly nonverbal Adrien Graye's neglected/forgotten daughter A Grudgby Team + Captain + Giving IV (now called Ivy) and III (now called Trip) more development and depth (the two basilisks seen in Watching and Dreaming) + King getting a MASSIVE growthspurt There will still be much more to come, once the ideas finally start to pop into my head. Hope this clears up some things! I'm happy you like her design, though it is still a WIP, such as everything else. I am still working on my Cinderkin AU too, in which I might make a 3rd AU combining these two for funsies at some point. It'd be sick to design Calanthe with Cinderkin features! :D