#even though keeping things short is definitely difficult for me!

[sotwk]

Not A Bad Thing (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Inspired by the song lyric: "Don’t act like it’s a bad thing to fall in love with me." Not a Bad Thing by Justin Timberlake

Word count: 1.7 k Genre tags: romance, hurt/comfort, love confession, pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers Rating: Teen Content Warnings: Brief mentions of implied abuse. Tons of sap with a side of cheese. It's indulgent, okay? ;) To Read on AO3: LINK

Not A Bad Thing

Bucky Barnes x Reader

“May I come in?” he asked with gentility borne from manners of a bygone era. On top of that, he observed the etiquette of the digital age, and texted you that morning to ask first whether he could drop by for a visit. 

Maybe saying yes had been a mistake. Maybe you should have heeded logic instead of gut reaction. But after last night, your mind remained too cloudy to process logic.

The vibe between you was suffocating as you settled into the living room, even with the TV on in the background to drown out the silence. As though this was your first time alone in a room together. Never mind the many all-nighters spent hanging out over boxes of Thai takeout, you pounding out thesis edits on your laptop while he snorted and guffawed at his latest survival show binge--a ritual developed over the course of a year that finally helped you cross the finish line to your Master’s. If only you had discovered sooner that the solution to your crippling focus and anxiety issues lived just two floors above you. 

“I want to make sure you're okay,” Bucky finally said. Never one to hedge around a difficult conversation, one of the most refreshing things about his friendship. As he studied your face for answers his eyes were soft, not judging. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but duck behind the rumpled curtains of your unbound hair.

“I’m fine.” You inhaled a bracing breath and tugged the cuff of your sweater past your wrist. “It’ll be fine.” You’ve been repeating that to yourself all day, and were just about convinced of it. 

“It will be,” Bucky agreed. “As long as that asshole doesn’t show his face around here.”

You straightened up abruptly. “Don’t say that--”

“I’m serious. If I run into him in this building again, or see him within a hundred feet of you, there will definitely be a problem.” You saw his gloved hand clench into a fist, and a conflicting mix of worry and satisfaction swirled in you. Preston had threatened to do the same to your oblivious neighbor multiple times, never realizing that it didn’t matter that he was a taller and bigger man and a self-crowned Alpha who always got his way. Bucky would have him eating carpet before he could take a swing. 

“He’s not worth getting yourself into trouble over.” 

“He’s not. But you are.” His calm tone was cracking, his demeanor darkening with each word. “He owes you an apology. He should be on his knees begging for forgiveness he doesn’t even deserve to get.”

“It was an argument.” You tugged on your sleeve again. “A bad one, the worst one. But the last one. He and I are done.”

Bucky said your name, sternly but gently, spoken in a way that seemed to pry off the shield you had flung up to keep him from the truth. Your pulse quickening, you dropped your gaze to the floor. “I don’t know how much you heard last night--”

“I heard all of it--and more,” he said. “I know last night was one of many. I know how he’s been treating you for weeks now. I hate myself for never saying a word about it.”

The admission should not have shocked you. Superhuman hearing would pick up regular conversations from the next building over, much less a couple of floors away, and Preston had taken to unloading his frustrations at increasingly high volume on his more recent visits.

“The way he spoke to you, the things he called you--” Bucky stopped short, his jaw tight with rage that he needed a moment to tamp back down.

Bitch. Whore. Despite the sting of Preston’s words, you felt a wash of relief that your now ex-boyfriend had taken off before Bucky appeared at your door last night to check on you. You wondered at the restraint it had taken your friend to hold off as long as he did, and to let you turn him away, if he truly had overheard everything. 

Because of the other half of the story. The other things that Preston and you were yelling at each other about; the primary cause of all those escalating fights. 

“It was my fault.” The statement jumped from your mouth, escaping you in your weakness.  “He--he was already drunk and upset, and I made him even angrier. He was SO angry…”

You sniffled and pressed the heels of your palms against your welling eyes. Suddenly Bucky was crouched right in front of you, clasping two hands around your forearm. His ungloved thumb brushed lightly, but purposefully, over the bruised muscle underneath your sweater. He knew. Of course he did.

“Don’t put this on yourself,” he said. “Nothing excuses his behavior. Not even…”  There was a pause, only for the second it took him to push through his hesitation.  “....not even if the things he said are true.”

Your whole body stiffened in flight response, and when you pulled your arm away, he released his grip, again proving he was the exact opposite of Preston. Again demonstrating exactly how he had stolen your heart away from the guy you’d been with since high school, with you barely noticing.

“You did nothing wrong,” Bucky continued. “Neither did I.  But I wanted to… I…” He laid his hand briefly over his mouth, a half-hearted attempt to stuff back in the cat already out of the bag. “I was tempted to. So, so badly. Even just to say something.” 

“You wanted to warn me about him,” you said miserably. 

Bucky shook his head. “I clocked his jealousy the day I met him, but I couldn’t blame him for that. Any guy with a brain should be scared of losing you. But after a while, I started to realize he did have a serious reason to worry.”

Realizing where this was heading, you felt a nauseating twist in your stomach. “I can explain. It--I didn’t mean to--” You bolted to your feet and stepped around him, propelled by the need to run from your own embarrassment. You moved as far away from him as possible before the wall stopped you.

Where should you start apologizing for this mess?  For calling on him regularly to spend late nights, sometimes overnight, at your apartment, appointing him your “study buddy” as though you were some middle-schooler? For declaring him your “good luck charm”, making him feel obligated to keep coming? For ignoring the fact that you’d been spending far more time with the handsome neighbor than your own boyfriend, maybe as a subconscious retaliation for said boyfriend always choosing the company of his Goldman-Sachs colleagues over yours, while simultaneously accusing your grad studies of eating into “his” time? Or perhaps, the cherry on top that sent Preston over the edge: inviting Bucky to join last night’s celebration for the completion of your thesis, “just for the pre-dinner drinks”.

“The only thing I want to know is whether any of the stuff that guy went on like a lunatic about is true. Was he right?” Bucky pointed to you, then himself, in a back and forth gesture. “You and me…do you… are we--”

“Wait, wait.” He threw up both hands. “Don’t answer. If I make one more dumb mistake, I’d be just as much of a pig as he is.”

He strode forward, and there was just something in his approach that not only kept you from skittering away, but drew you in. Even as you stared at the toes of your socks, you shuffled a few steps closer.

“If you hadn't kept asking me to come over and keep you company, I would have found some way, any excuse, to invite myself,” he said. “The nights I've spent with you have given me peace I haven't felt in a hundred years. I was never going to give that up.”

As soon as he was close enough, he reached for your hand. Slowly, making sure you showed no resistance. The touch of his bare hand against yours for the first time sent tears flooding from your eyes, now that you could accept the fact that you've been so hungry for it this whole time. 

“I should have said something the minute I saw things weren't right between you two. I knew you were too good for him, but I was a coward. I didn't know if I could handle not being able to convince you to choose me instead. I didn't want to risk losing you as a friend, even though I always wanted to be more. And have more of us, more of you.”

“Bucky.” Your voice was so small and tight in your throat you could barely hear yourself. “You're the one who's too good for me.”

He snorted. “No offense, but that's the biggest load of crock I've ever heard.”

“I handled everything wrong! I used you, I used Preston…”

“What else is a man supposed to do but make himself useful to the woman he loves?!” he exclaimed suddenly. “How else will you decide which one is worth your time?”

“But Preston--’”

“...he hurt you when he thought he might be losing you.” Bucky said. “While it killed me everyday to know you were with him. But if he’s what you wanted, I was willing to take what little piece of you I could have.”

“That's what drove him crazy,” you whispered. “He noticed you weren't holding just a little piece of me.”

His tense expression broke into a grin, and when you glanced up at the right time to see it, his gaze locked onto yours. You sniffed, swept your free hand over your splotchy cheeks, and smiled back.

“God…” he muttered, sliding his hand from your wrist up to your elbow, tugging you a bit closer. “You’re so beautiful.” For a second, he looked embarrassed. “Sorry. There’s a lot of things I’ve been holding back from telling you, and now the dam’s finally burst.”

“A lot of things?” Your hand ascended his shoulder to curl around the collar of his jacket. “Funny, I have only one thing to say.”

“I’m listening.” The arm he wrapped around your waist was impossibly gentle for something made of literal steel.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

“And that’s a good thing, right?” This close to yours, his eyes were strikingly blue with intensity. “That makes you happy?”

“You’ve always made me happy.”

What little space remained between you disappeared in the circle of his arms, and he paused long enough to chuckle against the corner of your mouth. “And to think I’m finally just getting started.”

[sidetrek]

This was a project I made for FTH 2024! The bidder wanted a little McSpirk story, so I wrote this up (although they suggested the mind/body/soul connection, an excellent point!). They were also very gracious in letting me try to ink in a different way, definitely a learning process! And of course, thanks so very much for the donation!

[coquelicoq]

[bolts upright in the shower] i need to reorganize my bookshelves

[hairmetal666]

The worst thing that ever happened to Eddie Munson is a spinning studio opening in the building next to the neighborhood store he runs with his uncle.

"That's the third one today," Eddie whines as soon as the door snicks shut behind a woman with a glossy high ponytail and electric pink polka dot Lululemon sports bra and bicycle short set.

"You see her ponytail?" Nancy asks. She's flipping through a stack of flashcards. "Never seen a twenty-five year old look fresh off a facelift."

"I hate them so much. What kind of job is 'cycling instructor' anyway?"

"I'm concerned about the amount of makeup they wear to workout. That's gotta be bad for the pores."

"I'm concerned about the collective IQ holding that operation together. Like, do they know how to get out if there's a fire alarm?"

Nancy shoves him, but snickers too. It's not like he really has anything against the instructors. They're fine. Polite and usually harmless. It's the principle of it. It's not fair, that they get to continue into an adulthood that's still all about them being pretty and popular, without any substance.

"You've done college bio," he says. He notices a couple of cereal boxes have fallen over, hops off the counter to push them back in place. "What are the chances their muscles are so big it's cutting off the blood flow to their brains? Is that a thing that can happen?"

There's no response from the front of the store, which isn't unusual. Mostly, she lets him talk and chimes in when the mood strikes. Since she seems uninterested in offering her input, he straightens the cereal and keeps gabbing.

"The other day, one of the guys came in, and his shorts were so tight, I could see his balls. Not just the outline, but the wrinkles. I could almost make out individual pubes. Is that one of those things where they pretend they're limiting drag, or whatever, to improve their speed? Even though it's a stationary bike--"

He turns, the shelves straightened, and literally only three feet from him is one of the aforementioned cycling instructors. Unfortunately, he's the most beautiful man Eddie has ever seen. Even more unfortunately, he definitely heard Eddie making fun of them.

"Uhh," Eddie says.

The guy smiles. "Sorry, my giant muscles make it hard to get around sometimes."

And Eddie just. Like. What the fuck. "That must make it difficult to cycle." God, god but this guy is so fucking, devastatingly hot and all Eddie has done is antagonize him. And not even intentionally!

"I get by," he smiles and Eddie almost swoons. "Hey, when I bend down, can you let me know about the ball sitch? I have a wholesome image to maintain."

Is he flirting? It seems like he's flirting? But that's weird, right? He caught Eddie talking shit, why would he--

"It would be my pleasure to look at your balls," his mouth says before his brain can catch up.

The guy snorts, smile getting bigger. "I don't know, now I might be self-conscious. Might have a wayward pube."

"How will you know if someone doesn't take a look?"

The guy steps closer, cocks his head to the side. He's got this impressive sweep of hair that barely tumbles, his throat dotted with cute little moles and freckles. Eddie's mouth is watering, why is his mouth watering? "I usually get to know someone a little bit better before they get that privilege."

For once, he's speechless and now he's blushing, can feel it up to his ears and down to his nipples.

The guy leans even closer, breath ghosting against Eddie's skin. "Too bad you hate exercise instructors."

This social interaction has already been a disaster, but he makes it even worse by responding with an indignant squeak.

The guy winks, can't hide his genuine amusement at Eddie's expense. "You ever want to make it up to me, you can come to one of my classes."

With that, he walks up to Nancy at the counter, and Eddie gets his first look at the single most glorious ass he's ever seen. His mouth literally drops open as he watches how it jiggles, perfect and round, and he wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship it right then and there.

Eddie's dumbstruck for a little too long, almost misses as the cycling instructor heads for the door. "How can I take your class if I don't know your name?" He shouts.

The instructor half turns, the sexiest, smuggest smile on his pretty face. "It's Steve!" He yells back.

"I'm Eddie!"

"I know!"

The door closes and he turns to Nancy. "How--how did he know my name?"

Nancy rolls her eyes, goes back to her flashcards. "You're wearing a name tag, you absolute dork."

Eddie knows he's a man of weak will. Is not completely surprised when, after a month of meanly flirtatious interactions, Steve leans across the counter to taunt, "you do one cycling class with me and I'll take you out to dinner."

He's fresh from a workout, hair still damp and messy from the shower. Eddie thinks he's about to lose his mind, desire a clawing beast gnawing on his bones.

"Oh, so I might finally get the opportunity to check out your balls?"

Steve's cheeks go very pink, and something tight and hot tugs in Eddie's abdomen. "If you play your cards right."

[reachartwork]

PLEASE JUST LET ME EXPLAIN REDUX

AI {STILL} ISN'T AN AUTOMATIC COLLAGE MACHINE

I'm not judging anyone for thinking so. The reality is difficult to explain and requires a cursory understanding of complex mathematical concepts - but there's still no plagiarism involved. Find the original thread on twitter here; https://x.com/reachartwork/status/1809333885056217532

A longpost!

This is a reimagining of the legendary "Please Just Let Me Explain Pt 1" - much like Marvel, I can do nothing but regurgitate my own ideas.

You can read that thread, which covers slightly different ground and is much wordier, here; https://x.com/reachartwork/status/1564878372185989120

This longpost will; Give you an approximately ELI13 level understanding of how it works Provide mostly appropriate side reading for people who want to learn Look like a corporate presentation

This longpost won't; Debate the ethics of image scraping Valorize NFTs or Cryptocurrency, which are the devil Suck your dick

WHERE DID THIS ALL COME FROM?

The very short, very pithy version of *modern multimodal AI* (that means AI that can turn text into images - multimodal means basically "it can operate on more than one -type- of information") is that we ran an image captioner in reverse.

The process of creating a "model" (the term for the AI's ""brain"", the mathematical representation where the information lives, it's not sentient though!) is necessarily destructive - information about original pictures is not preserved through the training process.

The following is a more in-depth explanation of how exactly the training process works. The entire thing operates off of turning all the images put in it into mush! There's nothing left for it to "memorize". Even if you started with the exact same noise pattern you'd get different results.

SO IF IT'S NOT MEMORIZING, WHAT IS IT DOING?

Great question! It's constructing something called "latent space", which is an internal representation of every concept you can think of and many you can't, and how they all connect to each other both conceptually and visually.

CAN'T IT ONLY MAKE THINGS IT'S SEEN?

Actually, only being able to make things it's seen is sign of a really bad AI! The desired end-goal is a model capable of producing "novel information" (novel meaning "new").

Let's talk about monkey butts and cigarettes again.

BUT I SAW IT DUPLICATE THE MONA LISA!

This is called overfitting, and like I said in the last slide, this is a sign of a bad, poorly trained AI, or one with *too little* data. You especially don't want overfitting in a production model!

To quote myself - "basically there are so so so many versions of the mona lisa/starry night/girl with the pearl earring in the dataset that they didn't deduplicate (intentionally or not) that it goes "too far" in that direction when you try to "drive there" in the latent vector and gets stranded."

Anyway, like I said, this is not a technical overview but a primer for people who are concerned about the AI "cutting and pasting bits of other people's artworks". All the information about how it trains is public knowledge, and it definitely Doesn't Do That.

There are probably some minor inaccuracies and oversimplifications in this thread for the purpose of explaining to people with no background in math, coding, or machine learning. But, generally, I've tried to keep it digestible. I'm now going to eat lunch.

Post Script: This is not a discussion about capitalists using AI to steal your job. You won't find me disagreeing that doing so is evil and to be avoided. I think corporate HQs worldwide should spontaneously be filled with dangerous animals.

Cheers!

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[esotericbluntbaby]

srry if this sounds stupid but like.. reader thats super short?? like 5'1

idk thinking abt the fact that he could just manhandle you is making me so ♡♡ i keep thinking abt that trend where he could pick you up and place you on his shoulders omg.. or maybe he makes u sit on his lap and stuff while he edits

also feel like he's super protective u (subconsiously he doesnt even realize it) always putting a hand around u type of thing

hamzah x short!reader headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

mentions: reader gets insecure about their weight sometimes, manhandling, sexual activities, size kink

sfw!

being 5'10, hamzah was used to being taller than most people he knew. however, it hits way different when it comes to you. he enjoys having to look down at you whenever you're standing next to him; it gives him a slight ego boost about how tall he is.

though, being with someone short also has its downsides; sometimes hugging him when he's carrying all his film equipment is difficult. when side hugging him, he has to crouch down awkwardly or you have to go on the very tips of your toes in order to be able to.

you actually hate having to ask him for help on reaching things from high parts of your apartment; you've been independent for ages, so you feel like you should be able to simply grab whatever you need from the top. hamzah, however, hates it when you grab a chair to stand on. he thinks you'll somehow fall over and break something

hamzah walks in the room with a puzzled expression on his face, "hey baby? have you seen my- what are you doing?"

you looked down at him, standing on the counter, "i'm baking and i needed my measuring cups."

he grabs you by the waist and lifts you down with his hands, then reaching to the top of the cabinet with ease and grabbing the measuring cups you needed, "you could've just asked me."

whenever you get tired of walking around in heels, or your feet simply feel like they're bound to be raw instead of with skin, he carries you with ease. hamzah's a man who hates seeing his woman struggle with anything, yet he also didn't want to walk around toronto with only socks on the cold, dirty pavement. so, instead, he lifts you and carries you either bridal style or on his back.

he really has to lean down in order for you two to be able to kiss. whether it's a kiss on the cheek or a kiss on the lips, it's either he's bending down or you're on your toes. when you're in a situation where he can't bend over or he simply doesn't want to, forehead kisses are the next best option.

sometimes, he'll simply walk to wherever you are, grab you by the waist and hoist you onto his shoulder, and then take you to the couch to watch a movie with him. you don't really know how it started, but ever since he did it for the first time and you didn't seem to mind, he now does it probably once a week.

"hamzah, y'know you could've just asked me to come to the living room, right?"

"why would i do that?"

stealing his clothes is funny to him; it's been a running joke where, no matter how big the clothes you stole are, you'll still deny that it's his. he fakes being upset at it, but the blush he has on his cheeks tell a different story. one time, the roles reversed and he stole a tank top and basketball shorts from you.

"hamzah, what the hell are you wearing..?"

"just a little something from my closet ^-^"

if you ever get insecure about your weight, he makes it KNOWN that you weigh literally nothing to him. either by benchpressing your body or squatting it, he makes you laugh with all the movement he's making you go through. afterwards, he definitely reassures you that you're genuinely the most beautiful person he's ever seen; it's safe to say that you don't get insecure about your weight that often with him in your life.

nsfw!

hamzah's arms are absolutely ripped. therefore, he's able to switch your position whenever it's needed. cramping? he'll manhandle you and switch the position. tired? he'll manhandle you and switch the position. about to finish? he'll manhandle you and switch the position so that you feel as pleasured as possible when you release.

whenever he eats you out, he's able to overstimulate you as much as he can. his arms are almost always spreading your thighs apart, his promise ring making indents in your skin, even if your thighs are trying to squeeze his head off. occasionally, he lets you squeeze his head; contrary to popular belief, i think hamzah's a thigh and ass guy. being squeezed by how soft your thighs are turns him on even more.

the options for positions are ENDLESS. he's able to lift you and carry you for as long as both of you can last.

size kink. watching him rip you apart turns him on to the point where sometimes, he doesn't last as long as usual from the mere sight of your pornographic moans and having him enter and exit. watching you get tore apart also turns you on; he's so big and strong. that's your man, right there. only he's able to make you feel like this (and finish as fast as you do).

he wraps his hand around your wrists to restrain you; with the height difference, his hands are basically double the size of yours. he pins you down quite often, since missionary is probably one of his favorite positions. he likes seeing how blissful your expression is when he's deep inside of you.

authors note!

sorry i edged u guys the whole day with this LOLL! it's kinda short, but i hope u guys enjoy!

[prismuffin]

Some context: So part of being a part of the batfam comes with hiding emotions or masking reactions and feelings. (Cause like, you don't want someone like Joker to know you're scared or anxious).

what if the bat boys (Dick, Jason, and Tim) got hit with a spell or power on a mission that gave them animal ears and a tail. (You can decide the animals, no matter what a animals ears and tail are the biggest things that you look at to tell how the animal is feeling. Because of their movement not being a forced one, but happens naturally like breathing).

So, how would the batboys (separately) react to notice that their tails and ears aggressively give away that they have romantic feelings towards Male Reader?

Ex: Dick having German shepherd ears and tail, and every time Dick sees Reader. His tail is wagging and his ears are perked.

I feel like this would be so much chaos for them, to suddenly have something attached to them that gives away what their feeling. Cause they haven't trained to mask it yet.

Alright lemme know how I did with this kay? I think that-

Jason would have come home from a mission after being hit with a spell that gave him fox attributes. While Bruce asked Zatanna about a counter-spell Jason was stuck with the short end of the stick. It really only changed his physical form so it shouldn't be too damaging. When it comes to you I think Jason would be the type to try and ignore the fact that his feelings are so on display. When he hears your voice his ears perk up suddenly and his wagging tail swishes through the air, but he's gonna keep that same stoic look on his face. His arms are crossed and his eyebrows are furrowed and it just completely contradicts the way his tail is wagging so fast. If you comment on it he'll immediately shut you down by asking what the hell you're talking about. You tease him about it and it definitely annoys him that this is the way you recognize his feelings for you. Dick did not expect to be coming home from his previous mission with dog ears and tail but hey, life just be like that sometimes. He doesn't know what he expected to come from this spell but it definitely wasn't this. It was sort of difficult when you'd walked into the room and he'd gotten visibly excited even though he was trying to play it cool with a smirk on his face, his dumb ass tail wouldn't stop wagging. When you comment on it he gets super embarrassed especially when you hit him with the "happy to see me?" Yup he's done, he's hiding from you until Bruce can find some sort of counter-spell or something because he can't stand the thought of rejection from you. You find it cute though. Tim would seem pretty unfazed but deep down he's so embarrassed about the whole thing. He gets hit with one little spell and suddenly he has a cat's tail and even the ears to match. At least he's not meowing though. The whole thing becomes even more embarrassing when you show up and suddenly his tail won't stop swishing, though it's more from the nerves than anything. He's blushing a lot and when you comment on it and just sort of brushes it off but the whole thing really clicks for you after this entire event. He was always sort of stuttery around you but with the way his tail seemed to impulsively react to your presence pretty much confirmed your suspicions.

———

Directory

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Lucifer Morningstar with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario in honor of Valentine’s Day

warning: aged up!reader [middle to late twenties], language, ooc, one-sided!Alastor x reader, possible spoilers from the first season of the 2024 show.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel collaboration with @vikkirosko, starring Charlie's own goofy, duck-obsessed father, the King of Hell! Special thanks to @ladydoe8, and @illuminaresblog for their feedback so that I could write this fic in a timely manner before things got busy in the real world for me!

Just so everyone knows, the outfit depicted here is Jean’s ceremonial outfit from the game Genshin Impact, idea was courtesy of @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what our short king is up to ~!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Lucifer is someone who believes in second chances now. 

Charlie had made something that had been impossible for the last ten thousand years possible, and he wanted to support her in any way he could. Thanks to him being an amazing, resourceful father they were able to rebuild the hotel in less than four months, and Alastor didn’t show up until they were finished. Ha! Take that, asshole! 

But what has made him the happiest he has felt in a long time is the opportunity to be close to his daughter again. He was not going to ruin it by being a coward and not speak to her unless it was convenient for him. She is more precious than anything or anyone in Hell. 

Don’t get him wrong, he is very happy that his little devil found someone that made her happy, but it was kinda awkward to see them being….intimate. That’s at least one other valid reason why he’s been coming to the greenhouse more often than isolating himself away in his living space of the hotel. It wasn’t healthy, and he couldn’t keep hiding himself from Hell forever after fighting Adam in the war. And why the greenhouse instead of the lobby bar, the rooftop balcony, or the parlor? Well, you were there. The hotel’s stoic groundskeeper, and one of the people who had been supportive of Charlie’s dream when he wasn’t around. 

You always knew the right words to say to her without sounding like a jerk. 

You would help out with creating group exercises, though some of your ideas were a little extreme.

 If someone needed some assistance with work around the hotel, you were there in the blink of an eye ready to help. 

You had fought against the exorcists to protect everyone, even at the cost of losing your prosthetic arms.  

You were a lot of things that he wasn’t. And he was a tiny bit jealous about it, even when you had never intended to make him, the King of Hell, jealous. That job was exclusively reserved for the Radio Demon. 

 He did think you would look a lot cuter if you smiled more often, and he has said this to you one afternoon as he sat on a wooden bench, watching you carefully remove the weeds from the flower beds. In that moment he thought he had fucked up. The words that spilled out of his mouth had pissed you off so much that you were quiet and did not even look at him over your shoulder. He felt his apple red cheeks burn with embarrassment as he stammered out an apology, trying to make amends when your calm voice broke through the awkward silence. 

You weren’t bothered by what he said. He was stating a fact that you’ve heard many times when you were alive. You explained to him that it was…difficult to express yourself for a long time. And in Hell, you couldn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. It made you a target. To demonstrate your point, you slapped your cheeks and pulled the corners of your mouth upwards to create a smile, albeit a forced one. 

Lucifer had a good laugh that day, and the frazzled thoughts that ran rampant in his mind came to halt. You were a funny sinner. And definitely strange, but hey, so is he! Kind of. Okay, he definitely is, but who isn’t a little odd down here?

When he realized that you weren’t easily offended like the others, conversations between the two of you had gotten…well, better. He would ask you questions about the stuff you grew, and you answered without hesitation. When you asked him about his rubber ducky creations, he babbled about his latest one and you would give him an idea on how to improve. “Perhaps instead of spitting out fire and water after the back flip, what if you did flower petals instead?” You said to him one afternoon as you hoisted a heavy pot up from the shelf, carefully placing it down on the workbench. “You can use the ones I remove when I prune the roses, if you’d like. All I ask is to not take too many of them. I am using them in an experiment to make soaps for the rooms so that Charlie doesn’t spend too much money on acquiring cleaning items.”

Lucifer immediately took you up on the offer, smiling so widely that it almost hurt his face before hurrying back to his workshop. In a matter of hours, he was cradling a brand new ducky that did release blood-red petals and golden sparkles! The ingenious part of it all is that, instead of doing a backflip, all someone needed to do was push its chest and poof, magic! It was amazing, the audience loved it and he actually liked it too!

 Lilith used to pitch ideas on his creations…at least…until she left. He still missed her. She’s Charlie’s mother, and not even he knew where she was or what she has been doing for the past seven years. He could only hope that wherever she is….she is happy.  

Instead of throwing this little gem with the rest of the ones he’d been working on since moving into the hotel, he gave this little ducky to you. A token of his gratitude, their friendship, whatever you thought the gift was! He just wanted to thank you for giving him that spark of creativity he had been looking for. 

To this day, it sat on the corner of your workbench, glowing under the red light streaming through the stained glass windows and in pristine condition. It was obvious that you treasured his little creation and it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a very long time. Before he realized it, his conversations with you shifted to memories of the past. 

He would regale the tales of Creation, how he’d tease his fellow angels and outwit them with harmless little pranks or showered their meeting assemblies with sparkles and ideas that…that they rejected in favor of order and obedience. It still hurt, that no matter how much he wanted to shower humanity with goodness and free will, it seemed like bad things had happened ever since he gave Eve the Fruit of Knowledge. 

You told him about the Great War  and how you served as a soldier in the Leidenschaftlich Army under Major Gilbert Bougainvillea. You could not remember your age, but everyone assumed you had been ten after being enlisted. You were fourteen when the war ended, and the Major had died saving your life. You never understand what his final words meant, I love you, until you yourself had perished. Not from old age or disease or famine, as most humans were known to succumb to back then. You had died protecting your friends, the people you had come to know in your line of work as an Automemory Doll, from being blown to smithereens by an anti-peace faction. Although the war had been over, men like General Merkulov could not comprehend a world without war. When the assassination attempt on the envoy failed, the bridge had been rigged to explode. Together with Benedict, you were able to remove the bombs…but when the last one you removed, the one that took great effort to remove…you lost your remaining arm, then your balance, careening off the train and into the dark waters below. That was the thing you remembered before waking up down here. 

There were days when you wondered how everyone else was doing, if Cattleya and the Lieutenant were all right, if there were still Automemory Dolls helping others with writing letters when the clients themselves were not able to read, write, or had trouble putting the words on the page. But who knew much time had passed since then? All you could hope…is that they were still able to live long, happy lives and not mourn for your death.

Because in the end, you finally understood the Major’s last words. And you would no longer need to follow orders to live. 

It made Lucifer a little sad when you finished your tale, it sort of made him wonder how you ended up down here when technically sacrificing yourself to save others should have gotten you into Heaven. You thought about that as well, drawing to the conclusion that even if you had died valiantly, it did not change the fact that you had killed many men in the war. Perhaps the blood on your hands will always be there, and you would have to live with that knowledge for eternity. Or maybe…no one really knows how to get into Heaven, as Charlie had informed everyone before, after the disastrous meeting with the Seraphim. Either way, if you were given the choice of being redeemed and going to Heaven, or remaining down here with everyone, you would choose to be here, in the Hazbin Hotel. 

Just because there is such a thing as Paradise, that didn’t mean you could not find your own. And you had found Paradise, here, with everyone. The sinners who are your family. 

Your words left him speechless. He had given humans free will, and all he had seen was the bad, never the good. But to hear your story, and how you are truly happy in a place surrounded by brimstone and the streets crawling with psychopaths, made him realize that you had used his gift as it was intended to be used. To have passion, to find love in one another than wholly dedicating your everything to the Big G. 

This revelation might have been when he was starting to realize that he was starting to see you as more than a friend or someone who believed in Charlie's dream. He followed you around like a little duckling around the hotel, occasionally leaving small gifts at your door and mentally panicking if you’d like it or not, and using his magic to help with your work in the greenhouse. Moreover…he trusted you. He had never shared any of his stories with Charlie about Heaven because he didn’t want her to be crushed like he had been. Now? Well, his little girl is thriving. Which brought Lucifer back to reality when he realized that in less than a week is his daughter’s birthday and he had no idea what to get her for a gift. The last time he had gotten her anything was when she went through her rebellious phase, and all she wanted to do was stay in her room and listen to heavy metal music all day. 

He immediately went to the greenhouse, bursting through the double doors and calling out to you in a panic. Ironically he found you in the apple orchard, standing on a ladder. You were picking the ones that were ready to be eaten and placing them in a wicker basket on the ground. When you saw him, you carefully climbed down the ladder and asked him if everything was all right. No, it wasn’t okay! He was not okay! 

He explained his dilemma to you in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth like a tidal wave until he felt your gloved hand on his shoulder. You looked at him long and hard, leading him to the bench to sit before pouring him a glass of lemonade from a thermos. You offered it to him, and half of your sandwich. You were starting to eat more food at regular intervals and taking breaks instead of working until your task was done. You were trying to take better care of yourself; if not as part of your redemption, then at least to not worry Niffty or Charlie. 

He did take the lemonade, but gave you back the sandwich, scolding you needed to eat properly if you were continuing to skip meals periodically. You had the grace to look ashamed, carefully placing it back in the tin lunch box. You promised him that you would eat after you heard him out. 

You listened to him carefully before offering your help. If purchasing a gift for Charlie is hard for him because he is still getting to know her…then you can help him create a special letter for a special occasion. After all, you were an Automemory Doll. It was your job to write the words to connect people, to bring them closure and be remembered. Lucifer blinked in surprise, asking if it was really all right to ask you to do something that…might still bring back painful memories of your past. 

You shook your head. “If it were as painful as you believed it might be, then I would not have said something. Besides,” Your mouth curved upwards into a small smile. “Charlie deserved nothing but the best for her special day, right?”

It took all of Lucifer’s self control to not hug you right then and there. He could still make things work between him and Charlie, he can still be a good father!

Once you had eaten your lunch as you had promised, you asked him to meet you on the rooftop  in an hour. You needed to wrap everything up here in the greenhouse, eat, and grab your Remington typewriter. Charlie was still trying to figure out what to do with the space, but right now there was a table with some chairs up there. It was a good setting to write a letter without anyone overhearing the two of you. 

Lucifer wanted to start working on the gift right away, but he knew that you disliked leaving your work unfinished. So he left the greenhouse, letting you finish up. When it got closer to the time to meet up, he whipped some of your favorite tea and snacks with a flick of his wrist. Remedial creation for him! 

Once everything was set up and you had removed your gloves, the two of you got to work. 

He didn’t think writing a letter would be so difficult because he wanted to pour so much of his feelings into a single page. He was sorry that he missed her other birthdays, how he didn’t step up to be a father after Lilith left because he had been just as upset as her but didn’t have the courage to move forward, and how he wanted to make up for it all. How proud he is to have her as his daughter. 

At one point, he realized that he was staring at your skeletal fingers and how they were fluttering from one key to another before he forced himself to look at you when you asked him a question. He didn’t have time to look at your shiny hands, he had a job to do! 

Between your respectful schedules and small breaks in between, the letter was finished in a week. It was several pages long, folded neatly in a creme-colored letter with a red wax seal once he wrote his name at the bottom of the last page. He thanked you profusely for helping him, promising you anything in his power in exchange, you just had to name it. But you shook your head, saying that knowing his words in the letter will reach Charlie is more than enough. You were simply doing your job as an Automemory Doll. 

And by God you did. 

When Charlie read his letter, his gift to her on the morning of her birthday after presenting a plate full of her favorite caramel apple pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and coffee in the kitchen, she cried. She cried and hugged him tightly, thanking him for this wonderful letter and how all she ever wanted was for him to understand her, to support her. He felt tears well up behind his eyes as he returned the embrace. It was already looking like it would be a good day. 

Later that day, the hotel staff arranged a small party for his little princess in the Ruby Ballroom. Food, drinks, music, even a small mountain of gifts. Vaggie was of course the brains behind it all, wanting Charlie to have a special day too. Everything was perfect. 

At least, until he saw you dancing with Alastor. You had changed out of your gardening clothes - a white long sleeved shirt and a green skirt with your hair pulled back in a loose ponytail - to one of your newer outfits. Or at least another one besides the white dress with the Prussian blue jacket you always wear. You actually looked more like a knight in this one than an Automemory Doll. Not that he was complaining. 

A sleeveless black buttoned up shirt under a white vest with a long turquoise tailcoat attached to it, a pair of black sleeves that covered your arms and hands, with a short blue and gold cloak attached to a white collar. The emerald brooch glowed under the ballroom’s lights. White tights embroidered with a gold-diamond dot pattern covered your legs, alongside a matching pair of knee-high boots and white gauntlets. 

In summary, you looked gorgeous and entirely out of place as you struggled to keep up with Alastor on the dance floor during the foxtrot. Polar opposites, oil and water, a pairing that doesn’t go well together. 

So being the badass fallen angel that he is, he tapped Alastor on the shoulder and asked if he could have a dance with you. The jazz music screeched to a halt  as the son of a bitch he turned to him, ears pinned against his head and eye twitching. He’s mad. Good. 

“Well, well, this is a surprise~! To think that His Majesty would want to dance when he’s so much shorter than our dear groundskeeper! What a delightful disaster~! But,” Lucifer saw Alastor’s grip on your hands tighten, causing a fleeting expression of discomfort to wash over your face. “We are not done dancing. Yet.” 

Lucifer felt his anger rise. “Listen here, you fucking prick -”

“Oh Al, there you are~!” Charlie suddenly appeared, smiling and oblivious to what was going on at the moment before she gently tugged the Radio Demon away from the dance floor. “There’s something I need to show you~!” 

Alastor did not want to be separated from you, and while he did want to keep dancing, Lucifer knew this asshole valued his pride and reputation above all else. He wouldn’t dare act of character unless it benefitted him in some way. He then turned to you, who looked more than a little relieved to not be near Alastor and…your face was red? 

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m…fine.” That caught his attention. You never stuttered. But with how you were smiling at him shyly…it wasn’t hard to let him have hope. To believe that his feelings towards you were actually reciprocated. He smiled at the thought, stretching his hand out towards you. 

“Care to dance?”

Taglist: @alastor-simp @alastorsgoldie @food-theorys-blog @nunezs-stuff @lbcreations-blog @imperfectbloodmoon @crystalrose36 @nixie-writes @isuckatwritingsobenice @tired-of-life-86 @frompeach @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @witch-of-writing-desk @mary-v193 @chewbrry @mmelionsblog @ladymothbeth @the-cat-queen-peasants @anielly-2010 @victheauthor @alyriaschoenheit @blumin8 @akemika75 @f4turemom @kameyo-kumo @aloenemonabee27 @doc-tooth @theuknowntravel3r @angelltheninth @solandis-does-stuff @navierkalani @deathmetalunicorn1 @star-fawn21 @sleepy-hutao @gamerxpfighter @no1sillybilly @frenchtoastmafia @candyladycry @bladeismine @bones4thecats

[girlwitheconverse]

YOUR BEAUTY NEVER EVER SCARED ME

╰┈➤ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Genre: romance, fluff, a little angst

Story type: two part story, short story

Part 1 | Part 2

Word count: 870

TW(s) for this part: insecurities, mentions of face scars

Simon fan art credit: @shkretart

masterlist

taglist and requests masterlist

God, being Ghost’s girlfriend surely isn't easy. He has a lot of boundaries, like a lot: no hugging, no intimate touches, no sudden touches…But the most important one was the mask stays on. Always.

Even though you two have been together for almost a year you’ve never seen Simon’s face apart from his lips since he sometimes felt comfortable enough to kiss you, even for a split second, but you’re glad even for that little moment.

You understand how hard it is for him to open up to people, and you’re glad for every single moment that you get to spend with him.

Today was your one year anniversary, and you happily hand Simon the gift you’ve got him, he looks at you with wide eyes and from the movement of them you understand that he’s smiling under the mask. He opens the little box and looks inside: you’ve gifted him a necklace with the date of the day you two got together imprinted on the pendant.

“Do you like it?” You ask anxiously, choosing a gift for him was so difficult.

“I love it, darling” he says in a soft tone, the tone he reserves to you only. From the moment he entered your room today you had noticed that he didn't have a gift with him, but you didn’t care: you two had made it to one year of relationship, that was already a gift for you. “Darling…I wanted to get you something too, but…I didn’t know what to get you…” He says as he looks down at the necklace still in the little box.

“You don’t have to worry about this kind of things, really.” you say with a soft smile, he walks to your bed and sits down, making you stand between his open legs.

Like this you’re just one or two inches taller than him.

“But, in the end, something came to my mind…” he says almost in a whisper as he takes your hands in his and places them on his cheeks, you look at him confused. He isn’t wearing his skull balaclava, just a normal ski mask, you could feel the soft, black, fabric against your fingertips.

“Simon? What…?” You ask confused as you cup his cheeks in your hands over the soft fabric.

Simon takes a deep breath and looks directly in your eyes as he leans in your touch, he loves the way you touch him: like he’s made of crystal and at the same time he’s precious to you but you’re still afraid that he could break at any moment. “The mask, you can take it off.”

Your heart drops and your eyes widen.

“W-What? A-Are you sure? If it’s for the gift, don't worry, I-I–”

“I’m sure, darling…I trust you, I want you to see my face…But I can’t promise that it will be a good view.” He tries to laugh it off, but the truth is that he’s filled with anxiety: what if you don’t like the way he looks? What if you find his face hideous (just like he does)? Will you – the first person he has ever trusted and loved – leave him?

“We need to work on your confidence.” You chuckle slightly, “are you sure? 100%? 1000%? If I lift this mask I won’t find another one right under, will I?”

He chuckles at your excitement, “I’m sure and don’t worry, under this mask there’s just my face.”

“Okay then.” You smile and kiss his lips through the mask one last time before slowly lifting his mask up, the first thing you see are his lips and you kiss them softly.

Then the tip of his nose, youI kiss that too.

You take a deep breath and, as Simon closes his eyes, you take the mask off completely. Simon continues to keep his eyes closed as you stare at his face, the first thought that goes in your mind is: so his hair is light brown.

Only after you notice the scars that are all over his face, he has one on his upper lip, one on his left cheek, one on his right eyebrow and two on his forehead.

“See? I told you…Definitely not a good view.” He whispers as he slowly opens his eyes, only to see you smiling down at him with a few tears on your face, “Hey! Why are you crying? Am I that ugly?”

“God, no…You’re so handsome…” You whisper as you gently touch his face. “I’m crying because I’m…so happy right now.” You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

“I…Am handsome?” Simon asks, shocked as his cheeks become red, a shy smile forms on his mouth.

You nod happily, “I just want to…Kiss you all over your face.”

“You can do it.” He says shyly, you don’t waste time and immediately start to leave lovely kisses all over his face while he chuckles.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You repeat between each kiss, Simon looks at you with a smile. He feels so loved now, loved like he has never felt in his entire life.

And for the first time in a year, he says it: “I love you.”

leave a comment if you want to be tagged when part 2 comes out!! <3

like, reblogs and comments are appreciated and requests are open <3

[utilitycaster]

Bells Hells Level Up: Level 14

FUCK IT WE'RE DOING IT LIVE (I forgot to prep this well in advance like a press release as I am wont to do). Gonna be short, sweet, and as always if there are any factual errors let me know! If I simply did not list every single possible feat, spell, or other choice, that is because I did not wish to spend my wild and precious life doing that.

Chetney: With a 13th level in Blood Hunter he gets Brand of Tethering, which is GREAT for making people (Ludinus) not be able to leave. He can also use Blood Maledict 3 times per rest now. Looking ahead: I'm assuming he's sticking with Blood Hunter (or Blood Nutter as the case may be); at L14 he gets advantage on saving throws against being charmed or frightened, and a new crimson rite. He has flame and frozen, and L14 unlocks necrotic, psychic, and thunder options. Their enemies are often immune to psychic but honestly he can just use fire so. Live your best life, Chet.

Laudna: I support waiting to see how the ritual goes! If she levels in Warlock she gets an ASI/Feat (War caster wouldn't hurt; bumping up INT or WIS wouldn't either though my vote, as always, is for INT), another known spell, and continues her quest as Cantrips Georg. If she levels in Sorcerer she also gets another cantrip, as well as another known spell, and I think she should get a 3rd metamagic option but she seems to already have three? Anyway my vote is for Careful Spell. I'll hold off on further speculation until said ritual has completed.

Dorian: Two more spells! Magical secrets, ie, whatever the fuck he wants (true to my name my vote is spending at least one on Counterspell, but go nuts on the other) He also no longer has to burn his inspiration dice on flourishes, though he only gets a d6 rather than his full d10. Looking ahead: He gets 8th level spells of which Mind Blank might be wise given this campaign; he also gets a d12 inspiration die.

Braius is already level 14, thank you Braius.

Fearne: Ok I respect the ASI push but Transport via Plants would be real clutch sometime soon. With that said Dorian or Imogen could take Teleport or they can just hang out with Essek for a while longer. Anyway, as an Arcane Trickster she gets an ASI and another L1 spell; she's been keeping it utility-focused which is smart because her INT score is not high. The ASI move, in my opinion, is bump up INT and CON by one, but she could also benefit from War caster. Looking ahead: As said, take L11 Druid, get 6th level spells, profit.

Imogen: Revelation in Flesh is upon us; I assume it will be electricity themed rather than the traditional Aberrant Mind option which appears to be "cursed axolotl"-themed. This means she can use sorcery points to make herself fly OR swim/breathe water OR see invisible creatures OR squeeze out of tight situations. Looking ahead: 8th level spells next level! Incendiary Cloud seems to be on-brand but Power Word Stun OR Sunburst (miss you Ayden) are both pretty fantastic.

Orym: Fighters get a zillion ASIs, as always; Sentinel might be fun but he could also bump his CON to 16 (if he does this...I must admit I'm warming on the idea of Orym Paladin and wouldn't scoff at a CHA 13 bump either), achieve Chetney-like intellect with an INT bump, or take any number of feats. I am pretty boring with feats honestly so I'm excited to see what Liam picks but I have no good ideas. Looking ahead: At L15, he gets two more maneuvers, which I will definitely look up before they hit L15; he also gets a free superiority die if they roll initiative while he is fully tapped. Fighters: they are unstoppable.

Ashton: It's a path feature! I have no idea what the fuck will be up with that but I'm looking forward to finding out, which, coincidentally, will give us the full picture of Path of Fundamental Chaos! Looking ahead: They get persistent rage at L15, which will make them even harder to knock out, a thing that is already very difficult to do.

[lightseoul]

— BAKUGOU KATSUKI.

arranged from latest to oldest per category!

型 : ONE-SHOTS

casual casualties (18+) ˖⁺‧₊

what was meant to be an innocent trip down to the bridge becomes a national sensation when you get outed as #15 pro-hero dynamight’s soulmate on live tv. inconvenient, yes, very much so—but it’s not like you have to do something about it. but then the bakugou katsuki himself seeks you out, and you find yourself getting into a whole lot of trouble.

christmas tree ˖⁺‧₊

bakugou catches you assembling the agency's top floor's christmas tree. (post-chapter 431)

and if we do (this thing) (18+) ˖⁺‧₊

you come up with a novel proposition during dinner one night with your dominant brute of a boyfriend. he accepts, although something tells you he doesn’t fully know what he’s getting himself into.

revenge (keep us together) ˖⁺‧₊

you wake up in a hospital and see an unfortunate, familiar sight.

hold me close (hold me tight) ˖⁺‧₊

masaru has a stroke that nearly kills him. bakugou handles it well—until he doesn’t.

maybe? definitely ˖⁺‧₊

bakugou realizes he wants to marry you.

in the dark ˖⁺‧₊

you're struggling to pick out an outfit that works for a reunion with class 1a later in the evening. bakugou comes in to try to help you, but you end up having a difficult conversation. (cw. mentions of body image issues, major weight gain).

call me your favorite, call me the worst ˖⁺‧₊

bakugou visits your studio unit for the first time. let's just say he ends up seeing something he wasn't supposed to see. a short story based on my first-ever self ship art.

you're losing me ˖⁺‧₊

bakugou proposes to you. you give him an unexpected response.

endearment ˖⁺‧₊

first, second, and third instances; it's official, there's something going on with bakugou and you're determined to find out.

changes ˖⁺‧₊

you miss your ex, bakugou katsuki.

asymptōtos ˖⁺‧₊

you needed him to meet you halfway. he couldn't.

all too much (i'm sorry) ˖⁺‧₊

the last person you want to see is Bakugou Katsuki. the one person you need to see is Bakugou Katsuki.

型 : SERIES / MULTI-CHAPTERED

tbd (tent: meet crazy) ˖⁺‧₊

part 1

part 2

part 3

all out of luck ˖⁺‧₊

you had the biggest, fattest crush on bakugou katsuki in high school, which granted you weird looks and judgment from those who found out, because why, when you could fawn over prince-like todoroki or manly kirishima instead? fast forward to 10 years later, though, and now the joke’s on them, because #2 pro-hero dynamight just got dubbed the hottest bachelor of the year. but that doesn’t matter, because you’re over him now. you’ve been over him, ever since that butchered attempt at confessing where he dismissed you as a gen ed extra before you could even get the words out. so why, all of a sudden—and an entire decade later—do you have to work with him on a top-secret mission?

the wonderful mess that we made ˖⁺‧₊

you’re invited to the wedding of the ex who unceremoniously dumped you over the phone while you were on your way to meet your boss. that boss, who just happens to be #2 pro-hero dynamight, finds out and comes up with a diabolical proposition. madness—affectionate or derogatory, you don’t know—inevitably ensues.

tell me sober ˖⁺‧₊

sober — based on this tiktok

i wish you would

admit it: the trilogy ˖⁺‧₊

admit it — loving him from afar was enough. at least, it should’ve been enough. until it wasn’t. (or, in which you subtly take care of your ex, bakugou katsuki, who also happens to be the namesake of the agency you’re working at)

still do — bakugou katsuki finally confronts you. you have a difficult conversation

prove it — bakugou katsuki starts acting differently after your last conversation. you finally arrive at an agreement.

you and me? ˖⁺‧₊

you and me? really? — mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. they conveniently forget to tell you it was a double date.

you and me, both — mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. ‘it won’t be like last time!’ they said. you begrudgingly go.

型 : DRABBLES

it's called having (a clue)

tied (something is)

threadbare pajamas

if this is it now

something blue

flying (cockroach)

casual future

2k milestone drabble event based on any of the given 30 prompts, i write a drabble/scenario!

emotional constipation

you're binging a show. sadly bakugou needs some attention

bakugou keeps on teasing you. you choose to bite back

happy 4th anniversary

flighty y/n gets confessed to

bakugou checks out your boobs. you tease him

trial by fire first-time boyfriend katsuki finds himself having to deal with a menstruating partner

*drabbles in response to asks are tagged #bkg

© lightseoul 2025. do not plagiarize, repost, or feed to ai any of my works.

[andre-and-cal]

give me your sweetest yet freakiest headcanons for these little faggots, like sickly sweet and disgustingly freaky

Of course !! Enjoy :)

Fluffy and NSFW Caldre HCs

Andre likes to run his fingers over the scars on Cal’s thighs and arms. When they’re alone, sometimes Andre keeps his hand rested on Cal’s arm or thigh. And when Calvin is wearing a simple t-shirts or shorts, Andre can usually feel the mounds littered over his limbs. As a result, Andre frequently finds himself absentmindedly grazing his thumb over the raised scar tissue. Cal finds it quite soothing and hasn’t said anything about it; he just lets Andre do what he wants. After all, Andre is stubborn, and he dislikes being told to change or that he’s doing something wrong. Additionally, when he’s in between Cal’s legs and sucking him off or peppering slow, lazy kisses over his skin, he makes sure to place his hands against the other evident ridges on his inner thighs, so that he can feel the scars’ unique shapes and textures beneath his fingertips. He finds it fascinating how Cal’s previous self-inflicted cuts scarred over in a similar manner to his own.

Calvin tries really fucking hard to stay awake when he sleeps over at Andre’s. But by the time the clock hits midnight, or even an hour after, he’s out cold. Cal becomes determined to stay awake when they’re over at each other’s houses, but he always falls asleep first. One of Andre’s silent, unspoken displays of fondness toward Calvin is leaning down to him and pressing a kiss to his forehead after he’s fallen asleep, or his cheek, or anywhere on his face. Funnily enough, though, Cal’s a deep sleeper, while Andre’s more of a light sleeper. Andre often finds himself tossing and turning in bed, restless. He’s not sure if it’s maybe because of the subtle, lingering stress in the back of his mind toward planning Zero Day with Cal, or if it’s something else. Also, a lot of the times when they’re cuddling, Andre likes to be the little spoon. He refuses to admit it, but Cal holding him helps him sleep better.

Andre acts on certain desires for the sole purpose of just hearing Cal make noise and to watch him squirm beneath him, because listening to Calvin’s mewls makes Andre’s dick stand right up. To elaborate, sometimes Andre will drive his shaft against Cal’s prostate gland a little too roughly, or he’ll pinch or lap at Cal’s nipples ever-so-suddenly to watch his face contort in bliss, to listen to him let out grunts, gasps, and moans. Cal feels that Andre’s body looming above him, face burrowed into his neck, is heaven. Calvin is the furthest thing from religious, but he finds that Andre is the real-life personification of a sacred object. Or a poem. Definitely a poem, too. When he’s on top, when he’s bouncing on Andre’s dick or has his dick in his mouth, Cal will occasionally lean down or pull back to leave deep, bloody bites on Andre’s shoulders or taut thighs. He’s extremely intrigued by Andre’s body and blood, and he likes to inspect his comrade by watching him bleed.

When the air surrounding them is content and they’re alone together, Andre finds it easy to relax— especially after a difficult day at school— by playing with Cal’s hair, feeling the oiliness of his bangs beneath the pads of his fingers. It’s rather mesmerizing to them both, and Andre finds it attractive how naturally light of a blond Cal is.

Occasionally, Andre does allow Cal to stick his fingers inside him, albeit dubious. Calvin was the first one to bring it up, intrigued by the prospect of Andre experiencing the pleasure similar to what he himself does. And Calvin loves exerting a sense of possessive control over Andre, feeling him tense up and clench around his fingers and all. He relaxes when Calvin kisses down his neck and licks up his naval, and he lets out strained moans he has no idea he’s got in him when Cal rubs firm circles against his sweet spot. When either one of them is on top, they have an unspoken “lieutenant-like” role. At least, in their eyes they do.

Prior to the establishment of their “comradeship” and “superiority” on the social hierarchy, Andre’s heartbeat would quicken when he and Cal were close in proximity. He still gets nervous at times— a rather good nervousness— but it’s now become natural to him. He would get all hot and red in the face when Calvin was near him. It used to be such a gross, sickly sweet feeling that it made Andre want to projectile vomit whenever the “bullets” would swarm his innards. He wondered if this was how other people felt about someone they exhibit amorous tendencies toward. Andre knows that he and Cal’s relationship is vastly different than what the majority of the world engages in. In addition, when Cal is experiencing a low mood and idealizing suicide, he believes that he and Andre could be gods somewhere else if they really wanted, though they’re stuck in this “useless world” and at their “fuckass school”. Cal likes that Andre views the world similarly to how he views it; he feels that they were inevitably bound to connect the way they do. Because to him, their unity is high above all else.

Calvin was just-barely able to convince Andre to slice his name into his arm, since he’d already cut Andre’s name into his. He feels that it secures their unspoken suicide pact.

Holding Cal in his arms, and Cal holding him in his arms feels right. Years of regret from longing and aching to be closer than they actually were paid off. Especially when they’re physically intimate; they’re like two pieces of a puzzle connecting together. Or like two bullets fitting perfectly inside a gun magazine, ready to fire. Click.

[daengtokki]

hi again! ~

i'd like to request yandere/obsessive seungmin. it's a concept that's been eating me alive for the past few days!

if this falls outside your comfort zone, please feel free to ignore! ❤️✨

love your blog! okay bye ~ 🥰🫰🏽

Thank you for being so patient! 🤍 This flavor of Seungmin is a first for me, so I definitely spent a lot of time overthinking. Hope you enjoy him!

Yandere!Kim Seungmin/female reader

wc: 5.2k

rating: explicit/18+

contains: manipulation, a little stalking, humiliation/degradation, choking (sexual & non sexual), reader is a little into it. overall typical male yandere things, so please keep that in mind when reading...

. ✦ . ✦ . ✦ . ✦ .

He isn’t taking anymore input on the matter. Seungmin is done, he’s standing, and he’s ready to go. He puts his hands in his pockets and waits impatiently, and you can already see what’s happening between his legs. He’s still soft, but he pulls the front of his sweats tight so you can better see what you’re obviously staring at.

“Come on…it’s all yours, remember?”

. ✦ . ✦ . ✦ . ✦ .

Seungmin watches you closely from his side of the table—arms crossed, legs spread open. You can see the soft flesh of his inner thigh peek out from his shorts, and when he moves, it moves, and staying on your side of the table gets a little more difficult with every passing moment. You hardly know him, and yet...this is tough. It's been four weeks since you met, and that in itself seemed like pure luck.

He looks at you like he has you all figured out.

. ✦ .

He was here, in this cafe, waiting patiently on a date that definitely stood him up. An hour had gone by since he arrived, and you watched him sit there, sipping his coffee, checking his phone...wringing his hands. It was obvious what had happened before you worked up the nerve to go over there, but you did. You abandoned the laptop and the work you'd been mostly ignoring (to look at him), and you cautiously walked closer. Had the cafe been any busier, you might not have, but there was nobody there to see you embarrass yourself except for him.

He smiled at you immediately when he noticed you walking toward him, but he was still surprised when you stopped and stood there, thinking of what to say. Even though you went over it in your head for the last twenty minutes, you were still stuck on an opener.

Seungmin spoke first, in perfect english, and his voice was so soft and pretty. "Hello, are you getting a lot of work done? You look very busy over there."

"Yes," you laughed under your breath, "I'm sorry to bother you—"

He shook his head, "No...not, um...you're not bothering me. I'm not busy," his eyes drop to the napkin he'd been tearing into pieces.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"I was, but I don't think they're going to show up"

You were right. Stood up. Whoever decided to not show up was missing out on a very pretty face. "Would it be too..." you switched to Korean very briefly, "Can I join you?"

He nodded quickly, and his smile grew a little, "yes, I don't think my date will be interrupting us."

"I'm sorry they didn't show up"

"I was feeling very down, but I think I'm better now...my name is Seungmin."

. ✦ .

Lucky.

He clears his throat and bounces his knee, "what did you wanna talk about?"

"Us"

"Yeah? I like us. We can talk about us.”

Still he sounds so sweet, so smooth.

The shy, well mannered boy at the cafe isn't here, though. Actually, he wasn't even at the cafe. You were both polite and respectful, but he matched your flirting perfectly, and you were both calm and reserved…until you took a walk an hour later and he fucked you in the park.

The sun had just set, and almost everyone had cleared out when you felt his knuckles drag up the back of your arm, and there was no denying it—you wanted it from the moment you laid eyes on him. And you did exactly what you imagined: hung on desperately to his shoulders, gripped his neck, dug your nails into his back as he held your thighs apart and fucked you slowly. You let him fill you up—you watched him slowly pull out, and felt his cum start to leak before getting on your knees and begging him for more. And he gave it to you.

Afterward he walked you home, and you invited him up, because you didn’t want to let him go just yet. There was no more sex, but he kissed you and touched like he already loved you.

“Are you mine?” He whispered into your ear as he kissed and bit at your neck, . “Hm, yeah, you are…I want you.”

“Lucky me. I want you, too.”

--

He leans back even further and stretches his arms over his head. A pale line of his tight stomach peeks out from under his shirt, and you watch it like you haven’t seen it before—haven’t touched it, haven’t tasted every inch of it.

“This was fun, but I’m not sure it’s gonna work”

The fall of his face is so fast, so dramatic. You didn’t think he would be so surprised, to be honest. It’s only been a month, but nearly every day together is enough time to figure out that things just don't fit.

“Not going to work?” He sits up and runs his palms roughly down his thighs, pulls at his shorts. “We work great, and we have fun. I’d like to keep having fun."

Breaking things off is hard because of the fun. The sex is too good, and it’s been blurring your judgement the entire time. Even now, all you can think about is getting on your knees for him, and you feel like today might end with that regardless of what happens. But Seungmin is everywhere; he’s always the first and last notifications on your phone, and it doesn’t stop at all in between. Maybe he means well, but you’re exhausted.

“I like our fun, too. But Seungmin…I need some space. We both need space before we burn this thing out.”

He rubs the back of his neck, and his eyes wander around your apartment. The look on his face is familiar, because it’s the same one that he had before you approached him four weeks ago. Upset, a little confused.

“I can take a break. So…what, no sex for a few days?"

You almost say yes. “I think we need more time than that.” This is you trying to be smart, but you don’t want to be smart, you want to do what you usually do with your relationships; let them run their course even though you know things will get bad, and someone will definitely get hurt. No, you want to be stupid...you want him to fuck you senseless right now.

Seungmin stands and adjusts his shirt over his shoulders, stretches his neck. “Okay…got it.”

Your heart thumps a little more as he approaches.

“You want me to go?”

Eye contact is hard to hold. His stare is so intense, and he’s so handsome...too handsome. The little nod you give him takes so much effort, like his closeness puts some sort of spell on you.

He steps even closer, and gently grabs your wrist. “Okay, I’ll...go…” another step, “can I have a goodbye kiss?”

The smell of his breath and his cologne make you dizzy. Pliable. Seungmin laces his fingers with yours and squeezes, and before you even tell him yes, he’s kissing. He kisses like it could somehow make you change your mind. He pulls back and guides your hand to his hip, “you sure?” hoping you’ll move it to where he really wants it.

But you don’t. You squeeze, though. “Yeah.”

“Don’t make me beg”

“Seungmin…” you start, but you have no idea where you’re going from here.

“Please, I have no problem begging”

You watch your hand slide up and under his shirt, touch his warm skin. His muscles tighten under your touch as you stupidly, mindlessly tuck your fingers beneath the button of his jeans.

His hand closes around the back of your neck, “it’s all yours,” and pulls you close to him, “and you’re mine.”

“No…no,” you pull away and make as much space between you as possible. “You gotta go.”

“I did something wrong, right…what was it?”

Being a little too much isn’t wrong. Seungmin didn’t do anything wrong, not really. The problem is his intensity...his overzealous personality. He watches you're every move when he doesn't think you notice, and he glances at your phone when he sees something pop up. You purposely left it unlocked and unattended at one point, which you still feel shitty about, just to see if he would go through it, and he did. He keeps you away from others when you do manage to go somewhere other than the bedroom—everyone is percieved as a threat, no matter what. A few nights ago you left a club because Seungmin insisted there were too many single looking men there. He was right, but he had nothing to worry about. Seungmin doesn't seem to understand how you see him; he's handsome, and he's funny. Thoughtful, and a little too selfless...especially in the bedroom.

But at the same time, he's suffocating. Jealous, possessive, and obviously terrified of someone stealing you away from him. So, this is hard.

"I'm sorry, Seungmin. I really wish we—"

"Wish? You don't have to wish...you have all the power, right? Let me try...I wish we never met. I wish you never decided to take pity on me, and talk.

You're lost for words, but it doesn't matter...everything you needed to say was said. He grabs his jacket from the chair and heads for the door, but he takes his time putting his shoes on. If he's waiting on more from you; a change of heart, more of an explanation (you didn't really tell him the truth), he won't get it.

He looks back at you once more before opening the door, and he closes it behind him with a slam.

. ✦ .

Two days pass so quietly, and you're surprised. Maybe he figured out what the problem was, the main part of the problem, because you didn't completely lie to him. You are afraid of going hard and burning out, and that is exactly where the two of you were heading.

The office door pops open and your coworker peeks in, "your lunch is here!"

"No, I didn't order lunch"

"Well, it has your name on it, and a note! It says..." she starts to unfold it, but you're up and on her before she can read any of it.

"Okay, okay...lemme have it"

The smell coming from the bag gives you flashbacks to your first real night out with Seungmin. You told him how much you liked the spicy fried chicken he picked for you, and that you couldn't wait to have it again, and of course he remembered. You open the note and read:

잘 먹고 있길 바라 승민

"Dammit, Seungmin." You fold it back up and stick it in your back pocket. This could be his soft approach to communication, but you also wouldn't be surprised if he scheduled your Monday lunch before you broke up with him.

Maybe you should have told him the real issue. You don't believe you can change his unhealthy approach to a relationship, and talking to him about it might even make things worse, but you didn't give him that much of a chance.

The buzzing of your phone snaps you back to reality, and you're not surprised when you see his name. The message throws you a little, though.

who is he?

Who is he? There is nobody else. There wasn't before, or during your few weeks with him, and there is no one now. He thinks you broke things off to be with someone else; seemingly, his biggest fear. So now what do you do? Anwer him and tell him there is no he? Or ignore him and hope he doesn't text again? Or pay you a surprise visit.

Today, you ignore.

Later that night, you stare at the open message thread and think. Instead of typing a reply, you scroll up and read his past text messages:

No, don't be busy tonight...can come over and we can make a mess here for a change

You did go over that night, and the two of you made a mess of his bed, and then the couch. That was the last time you slept with him, and Seungmin whispered I love you over and over as he fucked you raw, over and over. It didn’t seem wrong at the time, because he makes your head fuzzy, but afterward…you’re positive he wanted to tell you again.

Morning! I missed you last night, I miss you right now...don't make me miss you anymore today

Only vaguely threatening in retrospect. But also cute.

I couldn't sleep last night, and I really wanted to call you. Can I do that?

Thoughtful, but needy. Seungmin knows how to balance his cute, his hot, and his…whatever he is—you have to give him that. A new message from him throws the thread back to the bottom, and you read it before you even realize it's there:

I know you're reading this...fucking answer me

. ✦ .

You expect to see him outside of your building when you leave the next morning. And then outside of work. He’s nowhere, and he doesn’t text again—not yet. Answering him is inevitable, but you have to think about your reply.

Home is two more blocks away when you feel the buzz of the notification. Maybe he’s outside the lobby door, waiting patiently. Your heart races when you see him typing again. You're not sure if you're nervous, or excited.

how was work?

I hope you had a good day…

You don’t have to look so nervous

He’s watching. And you're not nervous, because Seungmin doesn't scare you. The watching is a tiny bit unnerving, though.

I can forgive you if there is somebody else. It’s not too late to fix things.

The texts keep coming as you walk, get to the lobby, and finally make it to the elevator. Only then do you look at your phone again.

Get rid of him, come over

Or I’ll come to you

I miss your bed

I miss you

I know you miss me

It feels like a weird dream.

Seungmin, there was nobody else, and there is still nobody else. And yes, I’m here and I’m reading everything you send.

There is nothing to forgive, and nobody to get rid of. I won’t be coming over, and I’m sorry that you miss me.

It’s stupid, and it might make things worse, but you send it anyway. You make a drink and find yourself sitting at the counter, watching and waiting to see his three little dots start to bounce, but it takes longer than you expect. Now you're feeling impatient, and you're not sure why. You want him to reply; you want to know what else is going on his his head, and just as you drain your glass, he starts typing.

I know you miss me. Stop pretending this is what you want. You're acting like a cunt.

That stings a little. He moves quickly between anger and sadness, but he's also somehow getting everything right. You can't deny that you miss him, and you are turturing yourself...but you kind of like how badly he wants you.

I need you so bad

That's the last message he sends, and it’s the one that you dwell on after a few more drinks; after getting into bed and pulling up the photos in your camera roll—selfies you’ve begged for, screenshots from your video calls.

You’re one hundred percent thinking with your cunt right now. Looking at him—he takes the cutest selfies—and remembering how good he makes you feel, and how good you make him feel…not touching yourself is a challenge. You squeeze your thighs together, put some pressure where you need it. You decide you can't give in and get off to this, not tonight, but maybe giving into him wouldn’t be that bad. Besides, Seungmin needs you.

. ✦ .

I'm not going to give you another chance. You have today.

That sounds a little more threatening, but you're not sure if he means it how you're imagining it in your head. What happens after today? You expected to wake up to more than that, but you’re relieved you woke up less horny. The last month with him is enough of an explanation for you, as far as why and how his weird, slightly unhinged texting got you so riled up last night.

But you’re only less horny. And you might text him back over your morning coffee.

Yeah, you definitely will.

What happens after today?

He starts typing immediately, but then he stops. A few seconds later, he starts again. Maybe he didn’t think it through well enough yet. Still, you’re on the edge of your seat.

Do you think I’m going to tell you over the phone? No, I need to see you.

He’s smart, you already know that. He has a big brain, and a big dick, and you thought for a while he might also have a big heart. Or you hoped.

Alone

Alone, of course. No coffee shop talk. But if he’s sentimental enough, he might agree to it.

Why don’t we just meet at our table?

He doesn’t respond quickly. He’s considering it…wondering if it’s isolated enough to get his point across. But you’ve offered to talk to him again, and that’s good enough.

okay…when you’re free

Thoughtful. Luckily, you’ve already called work and told them you needed to take a personal day.

I’ll meet you there in an hour

. ✦ .

You’re late, on purpose. Seungmin is sitting inside at your table, head in his hands, staring into his drink. He looks tired and angry, and you expected a text by now, asking why you aren’t there. As soon as the door opens, he looks for you, and he tries to keep a straight face as you approach.

“You’re late”

“I’m sorry”

There’s already a latte waiting for you on the table—caramel, steamed extra hot.

“…uh, I’m sorry,” he says it so quietly, you barely hear it. “For what I said yesterday.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yes, I miss you…I do. I can’t think straight knowing you have someone else.”

“You were watching, did you see me with anyone else? And I mean when you called me a cunt.”

Seungmin doesn’t answer, but you assume that is what he’s really apologizing for. He’s fidgeting with his cup, and you see the same version of him that was here the day you met. The same sweet boy you couldn’t resist.

“I miss you, too”

“You do?” He perks up and clenches his drink.

“Yes, but you’re a lot to handle. You were a lot before yesterday.”

“Please, I promise I’ll be better at this. I do love you, I really do.“ He reaches out for your hand, and you let him take it.

“Seungmin, you haven’t known me long enough to even know that”

“Maybe not, but I do. I can prove it to you.”

“What happens after today? What if I leave here…what if I don’t take you home with me?” More silence, but his face changes. It’s not so soft anymore. “I don’t believe you’re going to just disappear.”

“I won’t”

“Why do you want me so much?”

“Why do you deny how much you want me?”

You try not to look too surprised, but you’re pretty certain he can still read you. Instead of answering, you take a long sip of your coffee. Seungmin does the same.

“Thank you for the lunch yesterday”

“I hope it was as good the second time. We should do that again.”

That was the only dinner date you’ve had. Everything else was mostly isolated; here, the park…but mostly sex. Seungmin doesn’t seem like the type for traditional dates, but maybe it’s because you didn’t get all of the fucking out of your system yet—both of you.

“Okay…” you start, but you feel like you’re making a mistake even as the words form and come out of your mouth. “Take me out tonight.”

He smirks. The look on his face is a little condescending, but relieved at the same time. His smile grows until you can see all of his teeth, and his cheeks turn pink. It’s a good look on him. You really hope you’re not making a mistake, because you’d love to look at him like this all the time.

“Six...Seven? We can meet wherever we decide to go.”

Seungmin slowly shakes his head. The smile is still plastered on his face. “At seven? No, no you’re not going anywhere, I’m hungry now. We can get food later.”

His voice drops, and the drop in your stomach feels so good. Your thigh twitches, and the pulse in your clit is too much.

“And your apartment is closer”

He isn’t taking anymore input on the matter. Seungmin is done, he’s standing, and he’s ready to go. He puts his hands in his pockets and waits impatiently, and you can already see what’s happening between his legs. He’s still soft, but he pulls the front of his sweats tight so you can better see what you’re obviously staring at.

“Come on…it’s all yours, remember?”

You nod as you pull your eyes away and look at his face.

“Let me make you feel good,” he takes a step closer and rubs his finger under your chin, “I know you’re already getting nice and wet for me.”

“Yeah,” you sigh as his finger traces over your lips, and you are…you start to ache for him. Your legs shake as you get to your feet, but Seungmin grabs you by the arm and holds you. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The whole walk back, he’s on you, holding tight like he expects you to change your mind and run. But that’s not going to happen. Your head is swimming, and you can only think of what he’s going to do when he gets you alone. You’ve gone this long without sex, but your downtime was still full of dirty texts, photos, telling each other in extensive detail what you wanted to do to each other next time.

His hand slides under your shirt and up your back once you’re in the elevator, and just as it slides back down to grab your ass, the doors open, and you lead him out with his hand still gripping you.

“Take this off,” he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it on the ground.

“We’re almost there…Seungmin.” You’re spun around and pushed hard against the wall. One hand is on your throat, and the other unbuttons your jeans. “Seungmin—“

He shushes you, kisses you softly, and unzips, “pull them down for me…” You tug at each side until he has enough room to slip his hand between your thighs, and he smiles as he slides his fingers back and forth, collecting as much of you as he can. “Good girl, so wet for me.” He pulls back out and sucks his fingers into his mouth.

“Minnie…my door is right there”

“I know. Take them off.”

The pressure on your throat increases until they drop, and then he rewards you with another kiss. The cool air on your nearly naked body sets goosebumps off all over you, and you shiver. He tugs once at his sweats and you watch his cock slowly appear, and it bounces as he frees it completely. The shine of his pre-cum makes you throb and whimper, and for a moment, you forget where you are.

He grabs your hips and turns you, and now he has you by the back of your neck, cheek against the wall. There’s nothing to hold onto here, and you can’t reach for him, so you set your palms flat against the wall and try to balance yourself. And then his hand is gone. Both of them grab your hips, and his tongue slides over your entrance. He licks, pushes in deeply, and sucks at the arousal pouring out of you until he’s satisfied. Now you're hyper aware of where you are, out in the open…and someone can turn the corner at any moment. Seungmin doesn’t care. You're not sure if you care.

“Fuck me”

“Fuck you, hm? You ready for me?”

“Yes, fuck…please…I need it”

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” He’s back on his feet, fingernails grazing over your thighs and ass.

“I need your cock, I need it”

His arm wraps lovingly around your waist, and slowly…very slowly, slides deep inside of you. Seungmin groans from the pressure, tight and hot. You clench around him and whine when he pushes in hard, and then he’s back out again.

“No, don’t stop”

The tight squeeze of his hand is on the back of your neck again, “c’mon…get your key…inside. Someone’s gonna see us.” He says it like this whole thing was your idea, kisses across your shoulder as you fumble with the lock, and leads you inside, “go... get into bed.”

Your head is spinning. You’re confused, and ready for him. But the bed…that’s good. That’s exactly where you want to be. You crawl onto the clean blanket and collapse onto your stomach—eyes close as you will your mind to catch up with the rest of you. It’s suddenly very quiet. Seungmin didn’t follow you in, and you don’t hear him outside the door. Maybe he left. Maybe he was just getting back at you—stripping you in public, getting the two of you caught. Embarrassing you, or worse.

Just as you start to believe yourself, the door swings open and he walks in, very casually, open beer in hand, bottle of water tucked under his arm. He smiles sweetly as he looks over your body, because you’re exactly how he wants you, and you’re immediately gone again as he walks closer, cock still hard and bouncing from the tease in the hallway. He runs a hand through his hair, and pushes it back until it stays out of his eyes, but you can’t watch long…his hand is on the back of your neck again, pushing your cheek into the mattress.

“You’ve been so well behaved for me…” he starts, squeezing a little tighter. He straddles the back of your thighs and rubs the head of his cock over you. “And good girls get what they want.”

You can’t talk, but you whimper…moan a little, just so he knows you’re still with him.

His hands run down your back, scratching before he grabs and pulls your hips up to meet his, and you’re filled up with him again. This time he stays in, rolls his hips, and pushes until you whine from the pressure. “Too much, baby?” Seungmin sounds so sweet, so concerned…and he does pull back before he starts to pump into you. Now he whines and speeds up, comes forward, and clenches the sheets as he fucks you. You push back against him, even though it hurts. The bed starts to shake, and the sound your bodies make on contact is almost drowned out by the moans neither of you can hold back anymore.

A Seungmin slips out between your cries, and his pleased little laugh slips out between his. You don’t want to come yet, but you can feel it rising, and you need to touch yourself. As soon as he sees your hand sneak under your stomach, he grabs and pulls both of your arms behind you. Seungmin wants to make you come on his own—no touching—and he will. He adjusts, and he knows he finds the perfect spot when you start to squirm.

“You…first,” he groans.

And you listen again—you come hard and tighten around him, let out a muffled moan into the blanket. You know he lets go by the desperate sound he doesn’t hold back. Seungmin says your name—pleads over and over again as he empties himself inside of you. He loses himself completely.

You’re still as he finishes, and you slowly come down from your high, gasping for air as he pulls out with a heavy, relieved sigh. Seungmin grips and pulls your asscheeks apart, and you know without looking back that he’s savoring what he did—he’s watching his cum slowly drip out. He places his hand over your cunt and gathers it up before pushing two fingers back in.

“Seungmin…” you’re still panting, face down in the blankets, unsure of what to do next.

You wonder what he’ll do next, but you don’t wonder long. His lips begin to trace a line up your back, along your spine. Long, slow, wet kisses every few inches until he reaches your neck—now he moves along your shoulder, and back up to your neck until he’s breathing steadily in your ear.

“Seungmin?”

“Yeah…you alright?”

The weight on your body is suddenly gone, and he comes down next you, looks at you with his usual puppy eyes, and smiles.

He asks again, and his smile falls a little when you just stare at him.

“Uhm…yeah”

Seungmin nods and makes himself comfortable on his side of the bed, stretches his naked body out, and watches you. "Come here," he beckons you with two fingers. Despite what just happened—despite the tousled, sweaty hair, and his spent dick resting on his thigh, the look of innocence on him is so intoxicating. The big eyes, his soft pouty lips, and pink cheeks. Seungmin looks like he just woke up and needs a good morning kiss.

Of course you listen and crawl to him, but your brain is fighting you with every thought, every movement you make. The lust, the hate, the need, they’re all on even playing ground right now.

. ✦ .

The first thing you feel is warm breath against your neck, but it’s not enough to wake you completely. It feels good—this could lull you right back to sleep. Next is a wet kiss. Then a nibble. And then his palm is flat against your throat, and your eyes finally open.

“Min?”

He shushes you and kisses as his fingers close around your neck.

“Don’t, please”

“Okay…okay,” his grip loosens while his thumb runs back and forth beneath your chin. “I love you…you know that? More than anything.” But he doesn’t let go. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Thinking you can just…leave me, like it’s nothing—“

“This isn't easy.” You choose your words carefully.

His voice is shaky, and when you finally look at him, his eyes are red and brimming with tears. “You're breaking my heart. I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Anything.” He squeezes again, just barely. “Everything. That’s what you are…everything." Seungmin’s face is flushed, and a few tears escape him. One, two kisses across your face, and your cheeks are wet with his tears, too, but he finally lets go, and you relax. Maybe he’s right. You don’t have any close friends here…you have nobody. But you do have him.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispers. An arm wraps around your waist and pulls until he can hide his face in your neck. “Please,” he begs.

His scent is intoxicating. The lingering smell of sweat in his hair, and the sweetness of his shampoo are pushed into your nose and mouth. When he’s sweet, he so sweet. He’s comforting. Even now, hours later, he feels warm and comfortable, and exactly what you need. “I do...I love you.”

“Tell me you’ll stay”

You can hear the tightness in his chest, and throat. More tears fall onto your neck, but you hesitate. You’re unraveling again. Seungmin is pulling you apart piece by piece—every sweet word, every aching appeal chips away at you.

“Please,” Seungmin pulls back and kisses your forehead, “I’ll beg all night…I’ll keep you up all night.”

Saying no just means starting this whole thing over again. Saying yes…maybe you can fix this.

“Yeah…I’ll stay”

. ✦ .

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, and Halsin react to his short gn s/o asking him to sit down after asking for his permission to kiss him on the lips?

Summary: As requested, Anon!

Warnings: Nothing - vague alusions to Astarion's initial aversion to intimacy, mention of nudity, but nothing huge.

Notes: These ones are a tad short again, but I didn't really want to oversaturate them! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Astarion

"Sit down? Why? are you going to tease me, my sweet?"

He'll do it, if only to amuse you and play along with your little 'game' for the moment - especially in the presence of other people. Be prepared, though - you will hear no end of teasing lines whilst he's sitting himself down. You'd think that he'd actually be quiet, but... No. Of course he won't.

As you start to settle yourself onto his lap, his hands move to your hips, gently cradling them and keeping you steady. His thumbs massage gentle circles over your clothes - though he's not typically seen as a gentle man (or a gentleman), he likes to be that way with you when you're both in private. It's like a little game for him - he can play with you a little bit, flitting between this more gentle side of him and the usual, flirtatious side that he shows everyone else.

He absolutely relishes having you on his lap this way- it's a way that the pair of you can be more intimate with one another without having the 'requirement' to strip down to the nude. It makes him feel safe - though he's unlikely to ever actually tell you that out loud.

Gale

"Hm? Oh, of course!" He's more than happy to take a seat for you. In his mind, it's an opportunity to be closer to you, to be able to hold you properly. Touch is definitely one of his love languages - though one that he hasn't really been able to explore before this point, purely because of his own actions.

He likes to cradle your face with both of his hands when you lean in to kiss him. Rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks brings a calmness to him that he can only really find in books if he were to really seek it - a deep sense of satisfaction that settles in his chest, a warmth that only a close bond can make.

If you're somewhere where there isn't a chair for him to sit on, he's going to conjure one. As much as he loves you, he's not usually in the mood to mess up his knees every so often. They are quite delicate, despite his prowess in other areas.

Halsin

"Of course, my heart... Whatever you need." Halsin almost always leans, kneels or sits down for you - his height makes it pretty much a must in all situations. Being over 6 feet tall makes it very difficult for either of you to kiss one another without some sort of compromise, so it's an automatic thing for him. He does find it very sweet that you ask though - it reminds him that you think of him, as much as he thinks of you, when it comes to giving affection.

Halsin LOVES physical touch - like Gale, it's one of his love languages (though, with Halsin, almost EVERYTHING is a love language). A hand will be on your arm, and another on your waist when you kiss - and if he has the urge to pull you even closer to him, his hands automatically settle at the small of your back.

Another thing he loves to do is carry you - one of his favourite kinds of kisses to share with you (because there are many) is one where you're leaning over his shoulder as he carries you on his back - though a close second to that is you leaning down over him as he carries you on his shoulders. He also likes to press kisses to your fingers when he carries you like this - anything to get his lips on you.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Lukewarm

[Something, something, Dew is like a computer without a fan. RainDrop. Some mild angst/brief mentions of sickness, but nothing too crazy.] Below the cut.

Dew heaves a sigh that seems to take all the energy from his body; He sags deeper into his chair, tired, but not overly so, though still too worn out to right himself as he slips deeper into the faux leather.

One too many long nights of tinkering with his equipment, working on his own projects not associated with the band or the church -while also doing everything asked of him for the band and the church- has left him beyond drained, to the point that he can't even bring himself to be mad about it, just...

Tired.

With a yawn, and slightly watery eyes, Dew settles further, into a pose that doesn't look terribly comfortable, but feels amazing on his aching joints, and lets his vision narrow down to what can be seen between his lashes.

It's not long before he begins to slip into unconsciousness, nearly passed out in his chair, head tilted awkwardly to the side in yet another painful looking position, but it feels nice... at least for now.

He knows he should probably get up, go to his room, to his bed to sleep, but thinking about all the notes and guitar parts and all the other bullshit he'd have to remove from it -with care so he doesn't lose any of the mess he's made- has him set firmly in place.

Short of being carried to bed, he's not moving.

At some point, one of his packmates comes along to prod him, to see if he's awake, or simply checking to see if he's feeling alright, but Dew can barely keep his eyes open, and his response to being touched is to lean away from them, not liking the warmth of their skin on his already hot body.

He overheats quite easily when he's tired, unable to pool enough of his magic to keep his temperature in check, and it leaves him feeling a tad feverish... which also makes it quite difficult to motivate himself into moving.

The next thing he feels -shocking him into opening his eyes wide- is the press of an icepack to his exposed neck.

He doesn't have the energy to full-on yell, and instead lets out something between a bark and a yelp, an undignified reaction overall, but an honest one.

He follows the the arm holding the offending object to his neck up and up until he makes hazy eye contact with a frowning Rain.

"C'mon, let's get you cooled down." he says, shifting the icepack to the center of Dew's chest, lifting his arm up with his free hand to make the other ghoul hold it for himself.

Dew obliges as best as he can, making a contented chirping sound as he feels the coolness spreading through his body.

Cooling down after a flare up like this always leaves Dew feeling a little off-kilter; In a lot of ways, it feels like the aftermath of being drunk, not quite into the hangover stage, but definitely headed that way, and even though he wants to remain stagnant, Rain is right to get him cooled down before it does get to that point.

Leaning against Rain's cold shoulder, Dew lets himself be guided back to his bedroom, and then further still into his bathroom, where Rain makes him sit on the floor while he cleans off his bed.

The tile is cold, and Dew finds himself splaying himself out upon it, pressing himself into it and once more contorting himself into a pose that is outwardly uncomfortable, but soothing to his aching body.

"...Gotta put it away in the..." he mumbles, trying to tell Rain how to tidy up his mess, but with his cheek pressed to the ground as it is, he isn't making terribly much sense.

"I'll put everything together, don't worry." Rain assures him, shaking his head as Dew eyes him from the floor, "Don't look at me like that."

"Can't look at you any other way..." he says, curling into a ball for a second before deciding the sudden warmth from his own body tucking into himself is too much and flopping over again.

"You have to stop overworking yourself." the other chastises, finally joining him in the bathroom once more, "You're going to cook yourself at this rate."

Dew closes his eyes.

"Mn, gotta stay busy, Rainy... Can't..."

"You can." Rain says, "You can take a break."

Dew frowns.

He'd argue some more, except he can feel Rain's fingers weaving through his hair, and the soothing circles he draws against his scalp have him drifting off again.

"I'm gonna turn the shower on." he informs him, slipping his hands under his armpits to hoist him up again, "I don't trust you in here alone, so I guess we're sharing today."

"Kinky..."

Rain rolls his eyes, or at least Dew feels like he does, his own are still closed, but the mood shift is palpable.

"You worry me..." he sighs, pressing a little kiss to the side of his forehead, "It's not kinky, it's practical. Can't have you slipping and falling and cracking your head on the faucet, now can we?"

Dew makes a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, letting out a soft hiss when the first droplets of water hit him.

"I know, baby, you'll get used to it." Rain placates, pecking his overwarm cheeks, "Just want you to stop being so hot, yeah?"

"'m not hot, 'm cold..." Dew pouts, but even he can feel the steam rolling off his body.

Rain holds him still, and as Dew comes back to himself enough to feel cold, he wraps himself around him to shelter him from the water just enough to start working on cleaning him up a little.

Dew grumbles through much of the process, unused to the water ghoul handling him quite so roughly, or perhaps it just feels rougher because he's so achy to begin with, but when he lets out a noise of genuine hurt, Rain is quick to cease his scrubbing and instead moves onto rinsing him off.

"Well, you don't feel nearly as warm, but you're still running a bit hotter than I'd like..." Rain announces after dressing Dew in just enough clothing to protect his modesty -not that he had much of that to begin with- and laying him down on the bed, "...I'll talk to Aether and have him come up here to make sure you're not coming down with something..."

"'m fine... Just sleepy..." Dew yawns, "Wanna sleep..."

"Okay, baby, you get some rest, but if you start to feel sick-"

"If you're worried..." Dew opens his eyes, peering up at him in an almost coy manner, "You should just stay with me."

Rain snorts.

"I would if I could, you know that, but I have to help Papa set up the practice stage, and I know for a fact you won't sleep if I'm here." he comments, brushing Dew's hair out of his face, "Rest up, yeah?"

"Yeah..."

"Dew?"

"Mn?"

"Love you."

"...Mn, love you, too..."