#fun to see how the tone changed in my style

[runefells]

First time doing a DTIYS had a lot of fun. Original is here by @eyes-eyes-eyes-eyes-eyes-eyes! (Also tumblr is ruining the quality i think so click to see it better)

[raspberry-gloaming]

All I know about the new descendants movie is osmosis from tumblr and combining that with the media I think of when someone says Alice in Wonderland is making for tbh the movie in my brain is probs very different than what I've heard the new one is like.

And that media is the Royal Ballet's Alice in Wonderland. Its a lovely comic ballet, and my favourite dances are The Mad Hatter's Tea Party (tap! in a ballet! also in this clip played by Steven McRae, who i want to know more about and watch more of his stuff as i have heard good things about from other dancers I know), and the Tart Adage, which is frickin hilarious. (also the way that the King of Hearts just droops around in the background and its like yup. thats Red's dad apparently.)

So uh everyone should watch these clips simply because they're amazing and I love them.

[waywardsalt]

tag rant but man i fuckin hate the new direction for loz

[eu-nicola]

Topper's sister

summary: since you were a child you had been in love with Rafe even though he never saw you, he always saw you as his best friend's little sister and nothing else, until one night everything changed.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4487

author's note: english is not my first language

Since you were a child, you had always been Topper's "little sister." You grew up surrounded by him and his friends, watching from the shadows as they lived their days with a carefree attitude that you, in your innocence, envied. Among them all, Rafe Cameron had been your beacon. A platonic love that had begun when you were barely ten years old and he was already an arrogant and charming teenager.

It was impossible not to notice Rafe. With his easy laugh, his hair messy from the wind, and that confidence that radiated as if the world belonged to him. Every time he came to your house, he would greet you with a quick knock on the door before entering without waiting for an answer, and he always gave you the same gesture: a distracted flutter in his hair, as if you were a pet he found cute.

"Hey, little one." That was his standard greeting. A casual smile, without stopping to look at you for more than a second.

It made you burn inside. Not with hate, but with frustration. To him, you had always been the girl Topper shared DNA with, nothing more.

But time had passed. You were sixteen now, and you were no longer that shy girl who watched from the stairs as the boys joked and drank in the living room. You had changed. Your eyes, once filled with naivety, now knew how to see beyond the surface. Your hair fell in neat waves, and your style had become refined. You knew that many of Topper’s friends looked at you differently. The pool boy last week, Kelce at the last party, even some who were more distant were starting to seek your attention.

Except Rafe.

He was still the only exception.

One summer afternoon was an especially hot day, and as usual, Topper had invited his friends over to spend the day at the pool. You were in the kitchen, looking for something cold to drink, when you heard the familiar voices from the patio. Rafe’s laughter was loud, and as an automatic reflex, you looked out the window. There he was, with his cocky grin, throwing a ball back and forth with Topper and Kelce.

You decided to join in. You were no longer the girl who hid; now you knew how to move in his world. You came out with a glass of lemonade in your hand and headed toward the group.

“Maintaining the pool again?” you commented with a hint of mockery.

Topper rolled his eyes, but it was Kelce who answered first, smiling in a way you had seen before.

“There’s always room for you.”

Rafe didn’t even bother to look at you. He kept his eyes on the ball, as if your presence wasn’t worthy of his attention. That indifference stung, but you refused to let him notice.

“Sure, Kelce. Because you’re always such a gentleman,” you replied with a wink, playing along with his flirtation.

You sat down in one of the nearby chairs, letting the sun warm your skin as you feigned disinterest. You knew the others were looking at you, but your eyes were focused only on Rafe. Despite everything, he was still the one who held your attention.

After a while, the dynamic changed. Topper and Kelce decided to get into the water, leaving Rafe alone by the table. Without thinking much, you stood up and walked over.

“Are you going to stand there like a guard or are you going to have fun?” you asked, taking a seat next to him.

Finally, Rafe looked at you. His blue eyes met yours for a brief moment, and for the first time in a long time, he seemed to notice something different. But his usual smile quickly returned.

“Someone has to keep order. I don’t trust those two.” He pointed at Topper and Kelce, who were fighting over a float.

You rolled your eyes, leaning a little closer to him.

“Always so responsible, Rafe? You surprise me.”

“And you’re always so curious, huh?”

There was a mocking tone in his voice, but also something else. Something that made you wonder if, after all these years, Rafe was starting to see you as more than just Topper’s little sister. But you shouldn’t get your hopes up; you knew Rafe Cameron and his world of dangerous games all too well.

The afternoon passed without any major problems. The boys joked around and competed in absurd games, like who could stay on the float the longest or who could do the best dive from the edge of the pool. You joined them at times, letting the laughter flow freely. You felt the gazes of Kelce and the other boys on you, but as always, you didn't care enough.

Even so, there was something different in the air. A subtle tension. At one point, as you were toweling off after a dip, Kelce approached with a playful grin.

“So… you’re going to the party tonight, right?” he asked, leaning slightly towards you.

“Sure,” you replied without hesitation.

“Perfect.” Kelce winked at you and walked away, but not before Rafe pushed him away with a light punch on the shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Rafe said with a dry laugh.

“Just being friendly,” Kelce replied with a crooked grin, knowing full well what he was doing.

You watched the interaction, trying to figure out if there was something more behind Rafe’s reaction, but he didn’t say anything else. He simply turned away and refocused on the game. Although his apparent indifference was still present, you couldn’t ignore the small spark you’d seen in his eyes.

As the sun began to set, everyone started packing up their things. The boys went home to get ready for the party, while you stayed a little longer by the pool. You enjoyed the moment of calm, letting the warm breeze caress your skin before heading inside.

In your room, you opened your closet, searching for the perfect outfit for the night. You knew the party was going to be big; the entire Outer Banks was talking about it. You wanted to stand out, not only because you knew a lot of eyes would be on you, but also because you wanted to provoke a specific reaction. You wanted him to see you.

You chose a tight, deep blue dress, which highlighted your eyes and hugged your figure in all the right places. You carefully applied your makeup, opting for a style that combined naturalness with a hint of boldness. Looking in the mirror, you knew you were ready.

You walked down the stairs just as the first guests began to arrive. The house was already filled with music and laughter. Topper, as always, was in his element, greeting everyone and making sure drinks were never in short supply.

Hours later the atmosphere was electric. The house was filled with young people dancing, drinking and chatting in every corner. You walked through the living room confidently, greeting a few acquaintances before heading out to the patio where most of them were congregating. There, under the dim lights hanging over the pool, you saw Rafe.

He was leaning against the railing, a glass in his hand and that carefree smile that seemed permanent on his face. He was talking to a group of guys, but even from a distance, you could notice how some girls tried to catch his attention. He, however, ignored them with an ease that you found frustrating and fascinating in equal parts.

You decided not to approach him right away. Instead, you moved through the party, letting others come to you. Kelce appeared almost instantly, offering you a drink and throwing out flattering comments that you accepted with a smile.

However, every time you turned your head, your eyes went back to find Rafe. You watched him move around, talking to Topper or just watching the crowd, but never coming close to you.

After a while, you felt somewhat suffocated by the crowd and decided to step out onto the back balcony for a moment. The music was muffled, and the fresh air was a relief. You leaned on the railing, enjoying the brief respite.

You hadn’t been there more than a few minutes when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned your head and, to your surprise, it was Rafe.

“Escaping the party?” he asked with that smile he seemed to have been practicing for years.

“Just taking a break.” You shrugged, trying to remain calm.

He walked over and leaned on the railing beside you. For the first time in a long time, you were alone with him, without the distraction of others.

“Kelce seems to be quite interested in you,” he commented casually, though there was something in his tone that made you raise an eyebrow.

“And that bothers you?” “You asked, challenging him with your gaze.

Rafe let out a low laugh, turning his head to you.

“Should I?”

You didn’t answer right away. There was a tension in the air, an energy that seemed to envelop the two of you. Finally, you decided that, this time, you weren’t going to be the first to give in.

“I guess not,” you said with a hint of sarcasm, before looking away towards the horizon.

The silence that followed was brief, but loaded with meaning.

“Maybe.” His reply was almost a whisper.

The tension on the balcony was almost unbearable, but you refused to be the one to give in. Without giving him time to respond or analyze his words further, you stepped away from the railing and left him there, with his thoughts. You weren’t going to let that little moment consume you, not when there was an entire party waiting for you.

You went back inside the house, and as soon as you walked through the door, someone handed you a glass. You accepted it without thinking much, feeling the alcohol begin to warm your veins. The music was louder, the lights dimmer, and the energy of the party enveloped you again.

Soon you found yourself in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, surrounded by bodies moving to the beat of the music. It wasn't long before one of Topper's friends approached, a boy who had always tried to catch your attention. You knew that tonight he had his goal clear too, and it didn't bother you at all.

"Will you dance with me?" he asked you with a cheeky smile, already a few drinks in.

"Why not?" you answered, letting yourself be carried away by the music and the atmosphere.

He positioned himself close to you, his hands resting on your waist as you both followed the rhythm of the music. There wasn't a considerable space between you, and the closeness was enough to make other eyes fall on you, although you didn't care. At least, not until you felt a different presence at your side.

Suddenly, a strong hand rested on your arm, gently but firmly pulling you away from the boy you were dancing with. When you looked up, you met Rafe's eyes. His face was serious, and though his balance wasn’t perfect due to the alcohol, his gaze burned with an intensity you hadn’t seen before.

“Come on,” he said in a deep voice, almost inaudible over the music.

“What are you doing, Rafe?” you asked, surprised and confused, as he led you through the crowd.

“You shouldn’t be with him,” he replied, not even looking back.

You, your head clouded by the drinks you had consumed, could barely process what was happening. Before you knew it, you were in one of the rooms upstairs, away from the noise of the party.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, breaking free from his grip.

Rafe closed the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment. There was something different in his gaze, something beyond the alcohol.

“I don’t know…” he murmured.

The silence between you was heavy, but not uncomfortable. You moved closer, your heart pounding in your chest. There were so many emotions mixed together: frustration, desire, confusion. Rafe looked at you, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t seem to have all the answers.

So, without thinking about it any further, you took a step closer and kissed him. It was an impulsive kiss, filled with years of repressed emotions. At first, Rafe seemed surprised, but he quickly reciprocated.

The kiss intensified, and soon everything else faded away. There was no one else, no past or future, just that moment.

What happened next was a mix of desire and confusion. You were both drunk, and even though your thoughts tried to stay clear, your actions betrayed you. That night was the first time you were with a man, and it was with him, with Rafe, the person you had idealized for so long.

You didn't say anything about it, and you didn't afterward either. Rafe didn't ask you, nor did he seem to care. To him, it was just another night, a mistake caused by alcohol and closeness.

When it was all over, you stayed silent, staring at the ceiling as he quickly got dressed. Rafe wasn't the type to stick around, and you knew that even before he opened his mouth.

“This isn’t going to happen again,” he said, his voice hoarse and tired. “We were just drunk, that’s all.”

It hurt, but you didn’t show it. Instead, you shrugged, pretending you didn’t care.

“I know.”

He gave you one last look, like he was searching for something in your expression, but when he found nothing, he simply left, closing the door behind him.

You stood there for a few minutes, letting reality hit you. You had known something like this could happen, that once you were around Rafe, your feelings would complicate everything again. But you also knew you weren’t going to let it define you.

You stood up, fixed your dress, and walked out of the room, ready to face the rest of the night. Rafe might want to pretend nothing had happened, but you weren’t going to get caught up in that. If he wanted to forget about it, you would too.

You returned to the party, head held high and a confident smile. There were more drinks, more laughter, more glances. Kelce found you again, and this time, you didn't hesitate to accept his attention.

The days following the party were a whirlwind of emotions for you. Every time you saw Rafe, a knot formed in your stomach. However, he didn't seem affected at all. He acted as if that night had never happened, as if it had all been an unimportant blur.

You expected it, but it didn't hurt any less. You had spent years dreaming of a moment like this, imagining what it would be like if Rafe finally saw you as more than "Topper's little sister." And even though it had happened, the reality was very different from your fantasies.

Rafe was back to his old self: distant, cocky, focused on his own world. His interactions with you were sporadic and cordial, if anything. There wasn’t a single sign that he remembered what happened, let alone cared.

You, for your part, tried to stay strong. You knew you couldn’t let a single moment define your life, but that was easier said than done. Despite everything, you were still in love with him. Every time he walked into a room, your attention was automatically drawn to him, even if you tried hard to look away.

You spent more time with Topper’s friends, especially Kelce, who seemed determined to win your attention. Kelce was friendly and knew how to make you laugh, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never make you completely forget about Rafe.

At night, you found yourself replaying the moments from that night over and over in your mind. You remembered his hands on you, the warmth of his body, the intensity of his gaze. But every time those memories came up, you forced yourself to push them away. Rafe had been clear: it wasn’t going to happen again.

Everything was moving on, and it was impossible to avoid Rafe entirely. You often saw him around the house, chatting with Topper or relaxing by the pool. When you were around him, you tried to act natural, but each interaction was harder than you wanted to admit.

One day, while you were in the kitchen preparing something to eat, Rafe came in, reaching for a beer in the fridge. For a moment, you were alone, silence filling the space between you.

“Everything okay?” he asked casually, not looking at you as he opened the bottle.

“Yeah, everything okay,” you replied in a neutral tone, trying to sound nonchalant.

Rafe nodded and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his drink. There were no more words between you, and after a few minutes, he simply walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone once again.

Those kinds of encounters became commonplace. Rafe was always polite, but it never went beyond a “hello” or an occasional question. It seemed like for him, nothing out of the ordinary had really happened.

You decided you couldn’t stay stuck in that cycle anymore. If Rafe could ignore what happened, then you could try too. You pushed yourself to focus on other things: hanging out with your friends, focusing on your own interests, even considering the idea of ​​starting something with someone new.

Yet every little bit of progress fell apart the moment you saw Rafe. There was something about him that always drew you back, as if your heart refused to accept what your mind already knew.

One afternoon, as you sat on the patio, watching the waves in the distance, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned your head and saw Rafe, walking with that nonchalance that always seemed to accompany him. He sat down on one of the nearby chairs, not saying anything at first.

“Thinking about something deep?” he finally asked, with a slight smile.

You didn’t answer right away. You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure.

“Maybe,” you finally said, without looking at him.

Rafe didn’t press. He stayed silent, sipping from his glass as you both stared at the horizon. For a moment, you almost seemed like friends, like there was nothing strange between you. But you knew it was just a passing illusion.

That was the problem with Rafe. He always managed to sneak into your life, into your thoughts, even when you tried to keep him out.

Days after trying to ignore him, there was another party but this time not at your house but at Rafe’s house. The music was pumping loudly, filling every corner of the house. The lights flickered to the beat of the bass, while the air was charged with the energy of bodies moving in perfect synchronicity. You stood in the center of the dance floor, lost in the music, letting a boy lead you confidently. He was attractive, and his smile had a mischievous touch that kept your thoughts away from Rafe, at least for a while.

“You’re a great dancer,” the boy told you, leaning close to your ear so you could hear him over the music.

You smiled, grateful for the compliment, although it didn’t affect you too much. All you wanted was to enjoy the night without complications, without thinking about what had happened days ago. But just when you thought you could finally relax, you felt a strong hand on your arm.

“That’s enough,” you heard Rafe’s voice, sharp and determined, as he pulled you away from the boy.

You turned quickly, coming face to face with him. His eyes, despite the slight glint of alcohol, were filled with an intensity you hadn’t seen in a long time. The boy you were dancing with raised his hands, taking a few steps back, clearly not wanting to confront Rafe.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, pulling away from his hold, furious at the interruption.

“What am I doing?” Rafe repeated, as if the answer was obvious. “What do you think you’re doing, dancing with him like that?”

You stared at him incredulously, your emotions swinging between surprise and anger.

“Excuse me? Since when do you care who I dance with?”

Rafe looked at you with his lips pressed together, his jaw tensing.

“I don’t care, but you don’t have to behave like that in front of everyone.”

“Behave like that?” you laughed bitterly. “Don’t tell me what to do, Rafe. You’re nobody to butt into my life.”

His face showed a hint of something, maybe surprise, maybe frustration. But he quickly hid it, taking a step back.

“You’re right,” he finally said, his tone cold and distant. “I’m nobody.”

With that, Rafe turned around and walked away, leaving you there, your heart pounding and a mix of emotions you couldn't control.

You stood in the center of the dance floor, watching him walk away. The music continued, people continued dancing, but to you everything seemed to have paused. His words echoed in your mind: I'm nobody.

You tried to regain your composure. You went back to where your friends were, but your mood was no longer the same. Although you pretended everything was fine, inside you the anger and confusion continued to grow.

Rafe had made his point clear: he didn't want anything serious, but he didn't seem to want you to be with someone else either. What right did he have to make a scene out of jealousy if you meant nothing to him?

You took a long drink from the drink someone offered you, determined to erase that moment from your mind.

The next morning the sun shone high in the sky as the group enjoyed the afternoon by Topper's pool. You were lying on a lounge chair, your sunglasses covering half your face, letting the heat tan your skin. You could hear the sound of the waves in the distance and the laughter of the boys drinking beers near the pool.

Rafe was there, of course, sitting next to Topper and Kelce. You tried not to look at him, concentrating on the book in your hands, even though you hadn’t read a single word since you sat down. Your tranquility was interrupted, however, when one of Topper’s friends, a boy named Mason, decided to approach.

“Enjoying the sun?” he asked with a smile, leaning in slightly so you could hear him.

You looked up over your sunglasses and smiled lightly at him.

“Yeah, it’s a nice day,” you replied in a relaxed tone.

Mason sat on the edge of your lounge chair, his presence much closer than you expected.

“I was thinking maybe we could take advantage of this nice day and go out on the jet ski later. What do you say?” he suggested, clearly interested in spending more time with you.

Before you could answer, you felt a shadow approaching. Rafe was now standing next to your lounge chair, his gaze fixed on Mason.

“Don’t you have anything better to do, Mason?” Rafe asked with a tight smile, though his tone made it clear it wasn’t a friendly suggestion.

Mason looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t move immediately.

“I was just talking to her, man. Relax.”

“Well, talk from over there,” Rafe replied, pointing towards the group of guys by the pool.

You sat up, furious, and pushed your sunglasses aside to face him.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe?” you snapped, your voice filled with anger.

Rafe didn’t respond immediately, simply keeping his gaze fixed on Mason until he finally stood up and walked back to the group. Then, he turned his attention back to you.

“Can we talk?” he said in a tone that tried to be softer.

“No, we can’t.” You stood up from the lounge chair and grabbed your towel. Without waiting for an answer, you headed into the house, leaving Rafe standing by the pool.

You went up to your room, closed the door behind you, and dropped onto the bed, trying to calm yourself down. But it wasn’t more than a few minutes before the door slammed open. Rafe had walked in without even knocking, his face a mix of frustration and determination.

“What do you want now?” you asked, standing up to face him.

“I want to know what the hell you’re doing,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“What am I doing?” you repeated in disbelief. “I’m the one who should be asking you that! You were clear, Rafe. Our thing was just one night. I accepted it, remember? So why do you keep showing up every time someone else is paying attention to me?”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice lower.

That only made you angrier.

“Well, I do know that. You have no right to butt into my life, Rafe. No right to make me jealous when you yourself said it meant nothing.”

Rafe stayed silent, his eyes locked on yours. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t seem to find the words to respond. Instead, he took a step towards you, and before you could react, his lips were on yours.

You resisted at first, pushing him away slightly, still angry. But Rafe didn’t pull away, and after a second, the tension between you exploded. You gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. Rafe looked at you, his eyes darker now, filled with desire.

“We have to stop here,” he said quietly, though his hands were still firmly gripped by your hips. “If we don’t, I won’t be able to stop later.”

You stared at him, not pulling away.

“Then don’t stop,” you whispered, with a determination that surprised even yourself.

That was all it took. Rafe kissed you again, more urgently this time, as he led you toward the bed. You both knew you were crossing a line, but at that moment, neither of you seemed to care.

[nerdlvr]

"come in, come in!" a familiar face greeted him, only this time with his hair dyed pink, "jaemin... right?"

he smiled as the boy's face lit up, cheeks matching his hair.

"the hair's nice by the way." he pointed up to his hair, watching as jaemin's smile dropped, "i will make out with you if you let me-"

"enough-" renjun, the short one, stopped jaemin, poking his side to make him go away, "excuse him, he's a little-" he shot jaemin a cold glare, hushing his whines, "deranged-"

"oh my goodness!" your soft yell filled the living space, heat rising to his cheeks at the sound of you.

"my kitty!" he smiled in your direction, lifting an awkward hand to greet you.

"my hyuckie! i'm so glad you could make it!" you strode towards him, arms quickly wrapping around his waist to pull him in for a hug.

he was stiff of course, but he tried his best to wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you against him. his eyes moved down to look at you, ignoring the glances jaemin and renjun exchanged.

"you know i'll always come when you call." you lifted your gaze, chin pressing against his chest as you spoke, "and i'll always only call for you baby."

he chuckled nervously, clearing his throat as you detached from him, slightly readjusting his pants.

"so how are we gonna study?"

you only just now noticed his full bag, textbooks sticking out from the top, "uhhh, i had more of a hands on approach- come with me!" you reached your arm out, squeezing softly as he took your hand.

your slippers scraped across the floor as you led him towards your room, door swinging open as soon as you both approached.

"donghyuck-ah! you're here- oh that outfit-" she reached for the fabric of his t-shirt, "lets get you changed- yes?"

you waved her off, "i think hair first- you brought button ups anyways so it won't mess with whatever jeno does."

oh right, he's here.

as if he had been summoned, jeno appeared next to giselle, his figure looming over her's, "i'll take it from here then-" his eyes followed where your hands met, an eyebrow raising in your direction, "if you let him go, of course."

you let go of donghyuck's hand quickly, pushing him slightly towards jeno, "yes- yes, go ahead- take care of him!"

.

"sit-" the larger boy gestured towards the chair.

he sat down hesitantly, hands seeking warmth under his thighs.

"so what are we doing today? bleach and tone? highlights? blowout? perm?" jeno scrolled through his phone as he spoke, voice bored.

"uh, maybe just like a simple style- i'm not sure, definitely no chemicals though."

jeno finally met his eyes through the mirror, hands coming up to squeeze donhyuck's shoulders, "you're bland."

donghyuck couldn't hide his confusion, eyebrows raising at jeno's comment, "w-what?"

"i said you're bland. i'm shocked y/n isn't tired of you by now- toys are supposed to be fun. and quite frankly-" he got close to donghyuck's ear, voice quiet, "you aren't even all that attractive."

he bit his lip nervously, looking towards the mirror to catch jeno's wide smirk.

"just a simple style it is then!" he ruffled his hair before turning to grab his equipment.

what the fuck just happened.

.

"he looks amazing!" you fidgeted in your spot, hands clapping softly.

"go ahead. wait-" giselle held her hand up slightly, "but don't touch him too much, the shirt's gonna wrinkle."

you stuck your tongue out at her, turning your focus to donghyuck, "do you like it?"

your warm smile made his stomach jump, cheeks growing warm under your gaze, "y-yeah i look- different."

your hands reached up to rub his arms, trying to calm his nerves, "different is good- you look good."

he smiled meekly, glasses slipping down slightly as he stared down at you, "thank you kitty."

a loud cough resonated throughout the bedroom, "we're leaving!" giselle laughed awkwardly, reaching towards the boys to push them out of the room, "come on guys, our work is done-"

"wait-" renjun reached towards haechan's face, fingers gently pulling his glasses off his face, "can't see the eye makeup with these thick glasses-"

giselle and jaemin gathered around him, "am i giselle of jaemin?" there was a loud slap against jaemin's chest, "idiot of course he can tell you're a man- hyuck how many fingers am i holding up?"

giselle and jaemin's banter seemed to fade into the background as he watched you and jeno from across the room. jeno's figure lean in towards you, talking in a hushed tone.

if it wasn't for his blurry vision he could've sworn jeno was talking about him, head tilting slightly in donghyuck's direction as he spoke.

"giselle- stop poking him." his attention turned back to your group of friends, renjun beginning to lecture jaemin and giselle, "this is why we can't have nice things- when was the last time y/n let us meet her actual boyf-"

"out! thank you so much! i love you all! now please leave my apartment!" you raised your voice, pointing towards the door.

donghyuck bowed as they each walked out of your room, not missing how jeno glanced at him, lips quirked up in a smirk.

.

"okay so then what do i do?" you leaned in closer to donghyuck, eyes trained on the camera in front of you both.

"you can change the lens filter here-" he clicked on some buttons, "this is how you zoom-" more button clicking.

your eyes followed the length of his fingers, soft veins bulging as he held the camera.

"uh-uh huh." you nodded your head dumbly, eyes nowhere on the camera.

"kitty-" his voice was sweet, your eyes moving up to meet his.

his eyes were soft, slightly dark from the makeup, his cheeks tinged pink from the proximity.

"kitty, just make sure the camera isn't out of focus okay?"

his smile made your chest feel funny, your face growing warm, "right- just- okay we can start- go stand over there."

you backed away from him, turning your focus to the camera as you took it from his hands.

"let me know how i should pose okay?"

you nodded quietly, face already pressed against the camera.

why were your hands so sweaty?

⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> 13. music production

previous -> masterlist -> next

notes : and the crowd.... goes boo? i'm back!!! after long thought and consideration ik what the angst plot is LMAO,, jeno is not like a villain or anything dw but shits gonna get fucked up but... not soon... someday though... be alert...

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @nanaxwi , @yesohhsehun , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @peterm4rker , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @cyjzzl , @livingdoll-hara , @this-is-lowkey-a-hyuck-fanpage , @ohwowzersthatscool , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @jenoleeaesthetic , @bananinhazz , @hyuckna25 , @doejaejung , @angeliqueiguess , @mymartiniblue , @aerivrs , @heyitsbreeeeee , @choizzn , @jae-n0 , @hyuckshinee , @whothefvckami , @snoopyjimin

[isak-dot-gov]

Bubblegum Pink

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Girly girl!Reader

Word count: 1137

My Matherlist :)

..................................................................................

You and Rhea had always been an odd pairing, but one that worked. Her brooding, gothic style was the complete opposite of your sunny, feminine aesthetic, but it never caused any problems between the two of you. In fact, you both liked the contrast. She loved how unapologetically girly you were, while you found her dark and edgy vibe pretty hot. 

But now, with the release of the new Barbie movie, your worlds were about to collide in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

It all started when you saw the trailer. You’d grown up with Barbie, and seeing your childhood icon brought to life on the big screen filled you with pure joy. Naturally, you couldn’t wait to see it. Even more so, you couldn’t wait to share the experience with Rhea.

One night over dinner, as you twirled your fork through your salad, you casually brought it up. “So, the Barbie movie comes out this weekend. Want to come with me?”

Rhea, who had been chewing on a piece of steak, glanced up at you with raised eyebrows. “Barbie?” she repeated, her tone filled with playful disbelief.

You nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yeah! It’s going to be so much fun. I was thinking we could, like, dress up a little for it? You know, something pink and Barbie-like. What do you think?”

Rhea leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Pink and Barbie-like, huh?” Her dark lipstick accentuated her teasing smile. “Babe, I don’t really do… pink. Or Barbie.”

You felt a pang of disappointment in your chest, but you didn’t let it show. You knew Rhea was right—dressing up in something so opposite of her usual style was a big ask. “I know, I know,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “It’s okay, I was just being silly. You don’t have to. We can just go as ourselves.”

But deep down, you’d been hoping she might at least entertain the idea. Not because you wanted her to change, but because it would’ve been fun to share this experience together, dressing up and embracing the moment.

The rest of the week passed without much mention of the movie. You noticed Rhea hadn’t brought it up again, and you didn’t want to press her about it either. You told yourself it didn’t matter—after all, what was important was that she was coming with you, not what she wore. Still, a tiny part of you couldn’t shake the wish that she might try, just a little, to embrace your world the way you always embraced hers.

The day of the movie finally arrived, and you woke up early, excited to get ready. You’d been planning your outfit for days—a dreamy, pink flowy dress with cute accessories, glittery heels, and even a sparkly headband to tie it all together. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you smiled at your reflection, feeling like you’d just stepped out of a Barbie dreamhouse.

But when you turned around to check your phone, your stomach twisted a little. Rhea hadn’t said anything yet, and you weren’t sure if she was going to dress up at all. Maybe you had been silly to even hope she would.

You tried not to let it get to you as you waited for her in the living room, adjusting your purse strap and fidgeting with your phone. When you finally heard her footsteps, you stood up, ready to go, but bracing yourself for her usual all-black attire.

As expected, Rhea came in wearing her typical style—black jeans, a black band tee, and combat boots. Her dark eyeliner and signature smirk were firmly in place. But something caught your eye, and you blinked, not sure if you were seeing things.

Pink socks.

They were subtle, barely peeking out from the tops of her boots, but they were there. Bright, unmistakable, bubblegum pink socks. You stared for a second, processing the sight, and then your heart swelled.

Rhea shifted on her feet, her smirk faltering just a little as she noticed your reaction. “Don’t say anything,” she grumbled, glancing away with a slight blush rising in her cheeks. “It’s just socks.”

You were speechless for a moment, but then a wide, beaming smile spread across your face. “Rhea…” you whispered, your voice soft with affection. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She shrugged, still trying to play it off. “I know, but I figured, you know, it’s important to you. And they’re just socks. Not like I’m wearing a pink dress or anything.”

Your chest tightened with emotion. It wasn’t about the socks—it was about the gesture. Rhea had seen how much this movie and dressing up meant to you, and while she didn’t go all out, she’d made an effort. She’d stepped out of her comfort zone for you, even if in a small way, and that meant everything.

You rushed forward and threw your arms around her, squeezing her tight. “Thank you,” you murmured against her chest, your eyes stinging with happy tears. “This means more than you know.”

Rhea wrapped her arms around you, chuckling softly as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re lucky I love you,” she teased, though her voice was warm and tender.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at her with a playful grin. “I know I am.” You glanced down at her boots again, eyeing the pink socks with a twinkle in your eye. “And for the record, pink looks good on you.”

Rhea rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “Don’t get used to it, alright?”

“Too late,” you teased back, leaning up to press a kiss to her cheek.

With her arm around your waist, the two of you headed out the door. As you walked hand in hand to the car, you couldn’t help but feel like this day was going to be even more special than you’d imagined. Rhea might not be covered head-to-toe in pink, but she’d met you halfway. She’d made the effort, and that was more than enough to make your heart burst with love.

As you drove to the theatre, Rhea glanced over at you, taking in how happy and radiant you looked. “Alright, so what’s this movie actually about? Are we gonna sit through two hours of Barbie just being… Barbie?”

You giggled. “Oh, you’ll see. There’s a lot more to Barbie than you think.”

Rhea smirked, giving your hand a squeeze as she rested her arm over the console. “As long as I get to see you happy, I’ll sit through whatever you want, babe.”

And just like that, with her pink socks slightly hidden under her boots, you knew you had the best girlfriend in the world by your side.

..................................................................................

[ghsface]

Hi k have a kinda specific request that I thought would make a good fic! I was thinking that maybe we see the BAU and y/n and Spencer the morning after Yk… the girls figure out that y/n just got layes and they do the whole bonding girl gossip thing. Derek sees Spencer wearing a scarf and makes a joke about it, only to realize that he was right. Penelope tells Derek and then without y/n or Spencer realizing like everyone knows. They also figure out why Reid is the only one with hikeys 🫢 and yeah…. Thanks queen! I hope this makes sense

New Message ✮⋆˙

Hey gorgeous, I love this idea so much, it was very fun to write I hope you like 🎀 🩷

our secret, not so secret - Spencer Reid

Sumary: You and Spencer try to hide your relationship, but it's hard when you have hickeys on your neck.

Warnings: fluff, jokes, hickeys, the bau being chaotic, I think that's all, this is pure fluff,

A/n: I'm sorry if there is something wrong or not understood, my first language is not English.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

It was a chaotic morning for you. You woke up a little late and the mess was evident in Spencer's bathroom mirror, with those little reminders on your neck that not even the concealer could completely hide. You were aware that you were trying a desperate maneuver, but well, Spencer had already warned you that the makeup would not last the entire day. Still, you were determined not to leave any evidence, you applied the last layer of foundation before leaving his apartment, determined not to give any clues about what happened the night before.

For Spencer, the situation was not much different. She decided to cover the marks with a scarf, trying to act normal as they prepared to face another day of work at the BAU, as if everything was perfectly under control. The two of you looked at each other knowingly before leaving, in an attempt to keep your relationship a secret... again.

Arriving at the office, you said good morning as if nothing had happened. But it wasn’t long before Emily and JJ, who seemed to have a radar for these matters, caught you in their line of sight. They looked you up and down with a mischievous grin, and without missing a beat, JJ raised an eyebrow and fired the first bullet: “And that face, Y/N? Long night?”

You tried to shake your head with a nervous laugh, avoiding looking at the two too much, but Emily stepped closer, lowering her tone so as not to draw too much attention. “Oh, come on, babe. There’s a sparkle in your eyes… and, from what I see, on your neck too.”

With your heart in your throat, you quickly glanced at your reflection in a nearby frame and noticed that the base had already begun to fade, leaving a faint purple mark showing. Emily and JJ glanced at each other, and then Penelope, who appeared out of nowhere as if she had smelled the drama, also joined the small circle. “Please let me guess… was anyone busy last night?”

Between laughs and accusations, you tried to defend yourself without much success. You knew they were trying to provoke you and that, at this rate, the secret wasn't going to last long. Emily and JJ's laughter soon attracted Derek, who approached with a mocking smile. “What's up, girls? Something I'm missing?”

Emily gave him a knowing look and pointed towards the entrance, where Spencer had just appeared with a very inconspicuous scarf. Derek narrowed his eyes and laughed. “Since when does Spencer wear scarves? It's spring, for God's sake.”

They all looked at each other, hiding their laughter, as Derek approached Spencer. With an attitude that only Derek could adopt, he patted him on the back and gave him a knowing smile. “Pretty boy… do you need some advice on how to handle the weather?”

Spencer froze for a second, trying not to lose his cool. He knew he had been caught. He tried to respond with a vague excuse about “changing his style” and “protecting his throat,” but Derek simply held up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Sure, sure, I imagine the weather was intense last night, right?”

Meanwhile, you were trying not to burst out laughing at Spencer's obvious blush and despair. But Derek, who had caught on to the whole situation, turned around to join Emily, JJ, and Penelope again, winking at the girls. “See what I'm saying? Our genius boy is growing up.”

Before Spencer could respond, Hotch walked past the group, observing the laughter and commotion with his usual seriousness. But something in his expression betrayed that he fully understood what the conversation was about.

“Anything you want to share?” he asked, without losing his composure.

Derek shook his head with a smile, but took the opportunity to continue provoking. “Nothing, Hotch. It just seems that some of your colleagues have… interesting extracurricular activities.”

Hotch cast a quick glance at you, who were trying to make yourself small at your desk, and then at Spencer, with her suspicious scarf. For the first time, a barely perceptible smile crossed his face.

“I guess ‘activities’ require a little more discretion next time, too, huh?” Hotch said, before continuing on his way.

As the team laughed and threw around comments, Rossi walked over with a cup of coffee, assessing the scene like the veteran he was. “Ah, youth… that energy and lack of subtlety. There’s nothing like first love at work.”

By then, the rumor had already spread throughout the office.

Hours later, as you tried to continue with your work, Penelope approached with a whisper. “Honey, we all know. You two don’t have to hide anything.” Your surprised expression was enough to make her laugh. “Did you really think you could keep it a secret? Come on, we’re profilers. Wait not me but thay do. Plus… you’ve never come to the office so… happy.”

You decided to give in and accept it, and just as you were about to approach Spencer to tell him, he appeared at your side, still wearing the scarf. When you turned to look at him, he already had that resigned expression on his face that made you laugh. “How much did you hear?” he asked with a sigh, looking around and catching everyone’s smiles.

“Everything?” you said with a mocking smile.

Finally, Derek, with an air of triumph, approached the two of you and announced loudly, “And that’s how it’s done, ladies and gentlemen! Our boy has become quite the man.” The office was filled with laughter and jokes as you and Spencer exchanged glances that were somewhere between nervous and amused.

Emily approached you and, not missing the opportunity, added, “So… how long did you think you were going to last without us finding out? A day, maybe two?”

You bit your lip, embarrassed, and looked at Spencer, who didn’t know whether to laugh or faint. In the end, there wasn’t much else to say.

JJ laughed, giving you a gentle shove. “Relax, Y/N. We knew before you guys realized it. We were just waiting to see how long it would take you to admit it.”

You and Spencer exchanged a resigned look. Maybe their “secret” hadn’t been so secret after all.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Cancun Trip (Popstar!Fem!Reader x Bodyguard!Punk!Miguel O’Hara)

Hi hi:3 I’m alive (kinda lol) this is a fun little thing I was thinking of lol enjoy! Not proofread.

SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Drinking, cursing,, biting, unprotected PinV (wrap it up people!) Fingering with ringers, Miguel had some interesting piercings :)tispy fucking, dirty talk (???), enjoy :3

Word count: 3k

Playlist AU Masterlist

—

Post-tour vacations were always your favorite thing, no dance practices, no boring meetings and most importantly, no manager to stop you from partying all night. And although Miguel was still technically on the clock, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t treat this as a vacation of his own.

That’s how you ended up with your heels in hand, trying to not stumble as you and Miguel drunkenly giggled on the walk back from the club at three in the morning.

“Come on princess, let me carry you, you’re gonna get cut on something.” Miguel mumbled, hands going to rest gently on the small of your back.

“I’m fine, I’m walking on sand.” You giggled, stumbling slightly as you looked back at him. Not phased when he moves his hand down slightly to wrap around your hip.

“Sand won’t stop you from getting cut from a beer bottle.” He pointed out.

“I can see the hotel from right here, it’s fine-Oh my god! Miguel put me down!” You clenched your heels against your chest as you were suddenly lifted off the ground bridal style.

“Not happening.” He smirked with a laugh, but you knew better than to fight against him, mostly because you’d end up failing. So you ended up just giggling the whole way to your shared suite. Where he finally put you down once you were both inside.

“Why did we come back here again ? I'm not tired.” You asked as you tossed your heels in some random corner, before making your way over to the kitchenette.

“You were complaining about your feet.” He reminded you, taking off his own shoes and his leather jacket. Draping it on a chair as he followed you.

“Oh yeah,” you hummed, opening the fridge door, looking around as you rummaged through the contents inside. “You want a buzzball ooor… a fourloko?”

“Fourloko.” He answered, making your nose scrunched while pulling out a can and a small buzzball for yourself. Handing him your drink first so he can open it since you already knew that due to your nails and the fact you were already slightly impaired that you wouldn’t be able to open without struggling for five minutes first.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit.” You mutter after switching drinks, trying not to cringe as you sipped on the strawberry liquor. “I thought I was going to die of alcohol poisoning when I drank one of those.”

“Princess, I’m over six feet and three hundred pounds, I can handle a fourloko. Small little thing like you though…” His voice dropped an octave as he went to sip his own drink, oblivious to the way his tone change seemed to stir something in your stomach. Mind slightly too hazy to see the way you took a bigger sip the second time around. “You should stick to that buzzball.”

His jab made your brows furrowed slightly. Annoyance quickly replacing the mysterious feeling before, as you decided to make yourself comfortable on the wooden kitchen floor. Not caring about the way your dress rode up your thighs when you crossed your legs. Instantly going to grab Miguel’s can and taking a sip when he placed it on the ground to join you on the ground. Regretting the decision after the first gulp, making you recoil at the taste as you put the can back down next to Miguel.

“Give me that.” He smirked playfully as he grabbed the can before it was even fully on the floor. Raising it towards his lips before leaning forward to speak again. “If you want to swap spit just say so, sweetheart.”

“You’re so weird.” You muttered in annoyance as you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m surprised that your eyes haven’t gotten stuck in the back of your skull yet.”

“If you have the hots for me just say so.” You mimicked his words in a deadpan tone, tilting your head back to take another gulp.

“Oh please,” Miguel couldn’t resist the scoff that escaped his lips from your words. “Hate to break it to you princess, but you’re not exactly my type.”

“Not your type!? I'm everybody’s type.” Despite your attempt to deliver your words with offense and attitude, you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched upwards as you tried not to babble into another fit of drunken giggles.

“Believe it or not, spoiled little brats isn’t everybody’s type.” He smirked as he watched you move the little empty plastic ball to the side. Not missing the way your eyes immediately fall on his half full can. His hand immediately going to push it behind his back. “Oh no you don’t-“

“Just another sip, I don’t wanna get up!” Your pleas cut him off, immediately moving to your knees to scoot closer to him. Laughter began to fill the room as you attempted to reach for the can as he held it away from you, never noticing the way you had practically crawled on top of him. Barely registering the way his hand does to your hip in an attempt to help steady you. Your giggles only dying down when your eyes move away from the can, finally noticing how you two practically were touching noses.

Heat sinked into your lower stomach as you both gazed into each other’s hazy eyes, Miguel’s hand subconsciously tightened lightly on your hip, making your lips part ever so slightly as a silent gasp left between them. You wanted to say something to ease the weird sudden tension that filled the room, but your throat felt so dry that you couldn’t get anything out of them. The way his eyes looked at you alcohol made your head feel more fuzzier than it did at the club. You were feeling so dizzy, like you were falling-no,like you were leaning- leaning forward?

“Mmm-oh-oh my god-“ You pulled back as soon as you progressed what you had done, eyes shooting widen open and your hand covering your mouth. You just kissed Miguel. You kissed your bodyguard. “Im so sorry. I-I didn’t-I don’t know why I did that-“

But your apology was cut off before you could finish it. Large hands quickly moved to your shoulders as the oxygen from your lungs got stolen with each passing second. You couldn’t help the moan you let out as you melted into the kiss, melted into him. Manicured fingers entangling themselves into the little chocolate curls on the back of his neck.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Miguel spoke between shallow breaths, his forehead resting on yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths.

“We should stop.” You agreed, voice light as you moved to straddle his waist.

“Definitely.” He muttered before pulling you back, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you let out a hiss, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue in. The warm metal of his tounge piercing making you shiver as it glides over the roof of your mouth.

“Your piercing feels so weird.” Despite not complaining, you couldn’t help but whine.

“Wait till you feel the other one…” He mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Before you could get a chance to question what he said, his mouth was on the base of your neck. The pressure of the metal ball on his neck made your breath hitch as his hands dug under the tight fabric around your thighs. Impatiently tugging at the no-show thong that you were certain was drenched by the way it was clinging to your core.

“What happened-to not being your type?” You couldn’t resist the urge to taunt his earlier words, keeping your tone as steady as you could with the way his two middle fingers began to slowly move up and down on your dripping slit.

“I’m blaming this on the alcohol.” He grumbled as he sat back, eyes dark as he focused on watching the way you attempted to wiggle yourself onto his fingers each time he passed your needy hole, applying a bit more pressure on it with each passing. His free hand went to hold your hips down to stop your squirming. “Don’t be impatient, princess.”

“You’re taking too long.” You whined.

“Ten minutes ago we weren’t making out.” He brought his gaze back up to your face, before finally entering his middle finger, making sure to go extra slow to help with any uncomfortableness you might feel from the stretching. The corner of his lips twisting upwards at the sight of your lips parting with a silent moan. “You’ll be thanking me in a few minutes for taking my time with this.”

You let out a whimper, head falling to rest on his shoulder as you attempted to get used to the sensation of his fingers inside of you. The coldness of one of his rings sending a shiver up your spine each time he bottomed out. Involuntary clenching around his finger with each graze of the metal, making Miguel’s brow furrow in annoyance.

“You need to relax sweetheart.” He muttered, leaning down slightly to place a light kiss on your hairline in a half-hearted attempt to help you calm down.

“I’m trying…” Any attitude you attempt to spit out from your tone was lost the second it left your mouth. “Rings feel weird…” You added as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the building heat in your lower stomach and the slow pumping from his fingers.

“Did you want me to take them off?” Miguel asked, having to tear his gaze from your cunt, your sudden silence not pleasing him one bit. ”Did you want me to take off the rings?” He repeated, eyes boring into you as you squirmed against him.

“Mm…” You hummed as you shook your head, Miguel couldn’t help but smirk slightly at your actions.

“Use your words.” He said, slowing down slightly just to mess with you.

“No, no, I don’t want the rings off.” You finally spat out, shaking your head a bit more frantically than before.

“Nasty little thing.” He cooed, the smirk on his lips growing a bit wider as he focused back down on his hand. Pumping his finger in and out a few more times, pausing to insert his ring finger before continuing his previous pace.

“Oh shit….” You hiss under your breath, your shaky hands finding purchase on Miguel’s bicep, burying your face deeper into the crook of his neck. The building in your lower stomach getting ready to snap. “Shit, I’m close… Miggy I’m so close-“

“Come on princess, cum for me.” His growl, dropped an octave with the command, his fingers curling slightly to better hit that perfect soft. “Wanna feel that pretty pussy finish around my fingers.”

His words pushed you over the edge, eyes rolling shut as you bite down on him in order to muffle your moans. Making him let out a hiss as he slows his pace, helping you ride out your orgasm.

“Did so good.” He praised lowly , pulling his fingers out slowly. Eyes darkened slightly as he saw a thin string of your slick connect you both still, pulling till it broke.

“Felt so good.” You replied, still coming down, as you moved from his lap to his lower thighs, surely leaving a wet spot on his jeans. “Need more.”

“Impatient, are we princess?” He teased, his hand moving to undo his belt, but were quickly pushed away by yours, wanting him to speed up.

“Shut up.” You huffed, hands fidgeting to undo the metal. “I haven’t had any action since the show in San Francisco, I’m a bit desperate here.”

“Wow, the (Y/N). Desperate. I thought I'd never see the day.” He teased, leaning back slightly. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d never think he’d see it, the way your eyes were glossed over, looking at his covered bulge like it could solve all your problems, the way your hands were trembling slightly as you unbuttoned his jeans. You’re hair messy and disheveled, your lipgloss halfway gone, the only proof of it even existing in the first place was the strawberry taste it left on his own lips.

His usual well-kept, semi well behaved pop star was now acting like a college student who was finally losing her virginity in some random room at a frat party. He had never seen you desperate before, he wanted to make sure he committed the view to memory.

So needy, so desperate, and only for him.

He couldn’t help the way he twitched under your hand as you rubbed his clothed length.

“It feels big.” You admit, eyes not lifting to see the smirk that formed on Miguel’s lips.

“Ima big guy princess,” He murmured with a head tilt, “why’d you think I took the time to help you warm up?”

“You’re so cocky.”

“Funny coming from you.”

“Shush.” You huffed, finally dipping your fingers under his waistband, the heat radiating from him almost enough to make you break out in a sweat as you began to wrap your smaller fingers around the base of his cock-

“OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK!?” You exclaimed, quickly pulling your hand away, accidentally pulling his underwear down in the process. Causing your wide eyes to land on where your hand had just been. You blinked in disbelief as you tried to process the sight in front of you.

The eight inches of length by itself would already be enough of a challenge for you on its own, what was really making your stomach turn slightly was the metal bars that lined the underside of his shaft, about an inch or so of separation between each bar, each bar having a small ball at the end on either side.

“I’m not putting that in me.” You stated with complete seriousness, Miguel couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “When did you even get that done?” You asked, moving closer to get a better look.

“College.” He shrugged.

“You’re insane.” Your eyes moved up to meet his, unbothered by the cheeky little smirk he wasn’t attempting to hide. Not fighting when his hand moves to the small of your back to pull you closer again.

“It’s not that bad.” He reassures, “Most of the girls I’ve been with either don’t feel it, or they actually enjoy it.” Yet the way your brows furrowed together and the nervous hum that left your throat was a clear indication that you were inconvenienced.

“I mean…it’s kinda cool… I’ve never done it with anyone with a…” You trailed off, looking at him through your lashes as you waited for him to finish the rest for you.

“Jacob's ladder.”

“Jacob’s ladderrrr…” You drew out the words as you nodded, then biting your lips as you thought about it. “Okay…” you sighed, “but if it hurts we’re stopping.”

“Deal.” Miguel agrees, before pulling you until you were hovering over his member. Your hands go to rest on his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself as you begin to slowly lower yourself down.

Oh.

Oh.

“Ohh…that feels…” Amazing? Ethereal? Heavenly? You can’t even finish your sentence, “fuck.”

“You like it?” Miguel asked, already knowing the answer from the way your eyes rolled back and your jaw went slack the second you landed on his thighs.

“Mhm…” You bit your lip as you nodded, wanting nothing more than to just start bouncing, but you knew you’d had to allow yourself to adjust to his girth or the soreness he’d leave between your legs would be much worse tomorrow morning.

After a few moments, you finally began to move up, stopping just below the tip before lowering back down. Your whimpers becoming more desperate and vocal with each moment.

“Shit… so tight…” He murmured, head falling back as his hands left your hips, placing them on the floor instead to help stabilize himself before thrusting his hips upwards, making you moan out his name. Groaning at the way you squeezed around him.

“Miguel…” You whined, nails digging into his shoulders. If he wasn’t still wearing his shirt, he’d be certain you’d be drawing blood, or at least leave imprints to match that note mark you left him.

“I know baby, I know…” He dipped his head to whisper against your ear. “Fuck, feel so good… how am I supposed to watch you dance around in those fluffy little dresses on stage now and not think of this, huh?” You didn’t answer, more you couldn’t. Too cockdrunk to properly think.

It was all too much, your body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. Heart pounding in your ears like it did when you finish a show, only this was so much better. Fingers tighten their grip on him as you felt the heat building the second time around, faster than the first time.

“Miggy…Ima-ima cum again..” You babble as you begin to bounce a bit quicker, making Miguel moan lowly.

“Where do you want me to finish?” He asked, knowing once you finished he won’t be far behind himself.

“Inside!” You exclaimed, almost too quickly. “Please Please ple-“

“Princess, I don't think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to -“ He began to protest, but his hands made purchase on your hips regardless.

“I’m on birth control.” You told him, making him let out a loud huff. He didn’t want to protest any further, mostly because he knew neither of you last.

“Shit…shit…” He grunted, rutting up into a few more things, his thrust growing more and more sloppy, your moans growing more and more high pitched before he finally felt you release around him. The way you squeezed him made eyes roll back as he began to empty his seed instead of you, riding out both of your highs as his hips stutter and slow. Breaths shallow as you. Finally rolling off of him once you both came back down.

“Jesus…” Miguel huffed , moving to finally get up off the floor, his butt sore from the hard kitchen wood. Taking a moment to tuck his softening member back into his jeans before reaching his hand down towards you. “You okay?”

“Yeah just… my legs… jelly…” You take his hand, letting him pull you up from the floor as you use your free hand to fix your dress that was bunched up around your thighs, deciding to deal with your soaked panties in the morning. A beat passing before you spoke again. “We never speak of this.”

“Agree.”

—

Join my taglist here

[lurkingshan]

Japanese BL Starter Pack

It’s been awhile since I dropped a rec list, so I am here today to share one that is very near and dear to my heart—a Japanese bl primer for those who are new to the jbl game. I created this for @neuroticbookworm to help her on her journey when she decided she wanted to start getting into Japanese works. The fandom (on Tumblr and generally) tends to focus primarily on Thai shows because they are the easiest to access for international fans, since Thailand is working its way toward world domination via ql media and wants us all to be able to watch. But there is a lot of great stuff to watch beyond the easy access Thai channels, and Japan is the country where this genre originated, so its shows are important for anyone who considers themselves a bl fan. Japan doesn’t cater nearly as much to the international audience so tracking down the shows sometimes takes some ingenuity and can-do spirit, but that’s part of the fun!

And so, the list! Bookworm is about halfway through it and having a ball, so I figured it was time to stop hoarding it and share it with anyone else who would like to dip their toes into jbl and isn’t quite sure where to start. A few notes: 

I am not here to teach you about the deep roots of the jbl genre or give you a primer on yaoi manga. I am by no means an expert and there are other places to find that information. Start here with this great post by @nieves-de-sugui and then maybe wander over to @absolutebl to read up more on the evolution of the genre.

This list is by no means an exhaustive accounting of every important Japanese bl ever made; it is simply a nice sampler platter of the cream of the crop among various styles you will find in jbl. Watching through this whole list will not only expose you to some fantastic shows, but also give you a sense of what makes jbl unique and how the country’s style differs from others, and point you toward the types of jbl you’ll like most (they tend to put shows in pretty specific style and tone lanes and once you find the ones you like there are lots more where that came from). 

If you’re coming to this post as a jbl lover and you don’t see your favorite here, I promise it’s not because I don’t love it very much; I simply had to make some choices to get this down to a reasonable shortlist. Feel free to leave extra recs for others to find! 

I’m putting these in a loose suggested watch order that will take you through the various jbl lanes in a kind of popcorn style, because I always think it’s good to change it up so you don’t get too stuck in one mode, and it works its way up to most of the extremely Japanese stuff (you will know what that means by the time you finish). But do what’s in your heart and change up the order if you want, friends, I am not the boss of you! 

Cherry Magic (Crunchyroll or grey)

gif by @liyazaki

I believe everyone on Tumblr is pretty familiar with this one, which is not a coincidence—this is one of the most accessible jbls. Not in terms of actual access to watch it, mind you (we’ve all jumped through shady internet hoops to watch it) but in terms of its content and style. Cherry Magic is a classic workplace romcom with a magical twist, and it is charming af. It’s a great exemplar of Japan’s light and zippy comedy lane for bl—a lane in which, importantly, the romances stay chaste even when the actual plot is about sex, or lack thereof. My friend @waitmyturtles would kill me if I didn’t make sure you know that Cherry Magic also has a lovely follow up film. And bonus: there is now a Thai remake airing so if you watch the original you can get in on the discussion about the different adaptations between countries. This is pretty easy to find these days in all the usual places, but I strongly recommend watching it here.

Old Fashion Cupcake (Viki)

gif by @liyazaki

Moving on to a slightly more mature workplace romcom. Old Fashion Cupcake, another Tumblr favorite, is an age gap boss-subordinate romance, and it’s both very adult and somehow wholesome af at the same time. Sure, there is a lot of carnal desire going on here, but there is also a lot of wooing via fluffy pancakes. It’s a tight five episodes and a fantastic example of what Japan, with its extreme technical precision in writing, directing, editing, pacing, and acting firing on all cylinders, can do in two hours. There’s not an ounce of flab on this thing and you’ll want to watch it over and over again.

Utsukushii Kare (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Time to get a little weird! Weird is a key feature of Japanese media, and lots of jbls explore unusual relationship dynamics rooted in complex psychology. This is the first show on the list that will likely feel very Japanese if you’re new around here—my advice is to lean into it and finish the show, even if you get uncomfortable along the way. In Japanese media, discomfort always serves a purpose. This is a high school story with a twisted relationship at its center, and I’m not saying any more than that. Don’t spoil yourself and go watch it! This one also comes with two sequels—one short second season and one movie—that continue from the original story. They are less essential but still excellent.

I Cannot Reach You (Netflix)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Next up, another high school tale, but with a totally different vibe. This show is kind of a revelation in its willingness to tell a story about overwhelming desire—including sexual desire—with young protagonists. It’s rooted in a classic but often misunderstood trope, friends to lovers, and takes the angst of it seriously, giving us a low stakes story that feels extremely high stakes to our leads. It’s also gorgeous and uses a classic Japanese visual style (bokeh) that you’ll be dying to learn more about. 

His (Viki)

gif by @gabrielokun

Time for a break from high school, and we’ll sprinkle in a movie for some added flavor. His is a jbl film featuring a second chance romance between a stoic, introverted man who moves to a remote town to start over, and his ex-boyfriend who follows him there unexpectedly, adorable child in tow. Importantly, this movie does not take place in what we often refer to as the “bl bubble” where homophobia doesn’t exist; the leads’ experiences of being gay men in a homophobic society are hugely important to the plot and themes of the story. It’s a beautiful film and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. @bengiyo would surely also like me to tell you that this film follows a brief prequel show called His: I Didn’t Mean to Fall in Love about the characters originally meeting in high school; I do not think it’s really necessary to watch it but completists can start there.

The Pornographer series (Gaga)

By now you should be ready to get into some classic Japanese fucked up psychosexual material, right? Right! The Pornographer series is told in five installments in this order:

The Novelist, a six episode miniseries

Mood Indigo, a six episode prequel series

Spring Life, a 15 minute short

Pornographer: Playback, a two hour film

Spring Life Continued, a 15 minute short

Confused by that distribution model? So say we all; sometimes Japan likes to make us work for it to make sure we really appreciate its many gifts to us. The story across these installments is about a very difficult to love protagonist, what makes him the way he is, and the also-unhinged-but-in-a-different-way man who finally gets through to him. It’s an extremely satisfying love story and one of the best character arcs I have ever seen, full stop. For this one, you’ll want to just pull the word problematic out of your pocket and store it in a drawer; nearly everything that happens in this story is problematic and that’s the point. Lean in! All of these installments except for the film are on Gaga, if you get that far hmu and I will supply you with the final puzzle piece.

Our Dining Table (Gaga)

You could probably use a break after those last two, so it’s time to shift over to a heart-tugging twofer: family trauma mixed with the cutest shit you’ve ever seen. ODT is an example of another classic type of Japanese show: the food drama (you will see the GOAT in this category at the end of this list). In Japanese culture, food is love, and the act of preparing food for your loved ones is a common path to romance. You’ll love this story about an isolated office worker who meets a pair of brothers, learns to cook as a way of connecting with them, and begins to heal from his own trauma as a result. The image above is a scan from the manga, which @troubled-mind curates to make extremely cool comparison sets like this one. Many jbls are faithful adaptations of yaoi manga source material, so it’s good to have a bit of familiarity with them.

Minato’s Laundromat (Gaga)

gif by @liyazaki

Japanese media loves to explore taboo, and often manages to do it in a way that is surprisingly light and chaste. This is an age gap romance between a teenager and his adult neighbor that explores internalized homophobia, emotional repression, and falling in love across seemingly impossible social chasms. It’s also a great example of old school yaoi seme-uke dynamics that still show up across the bl genre. Also, take my advice: end your journey with this one with the first season and just pretend season 2 doesn’t exist.

Eternal Yesterday (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Remember what I said about weird? Time to do that again, but with a heaping dose of grief and pain on top. It’s not a spoiler to tell you this show involves a major character death; a major character death is, in fact, the root of the entire story. This is a magic realist tale of first love turned tragic, and it will hurt and heal you. It is one of my favorite dramas of all time.

Restart After Come Back Home (Gaga)

And now for a break for your poor exhausted brain. This film is basically the jbl version of a Hallmark original movie, about a city boy who goes back home to the country and falls in love with a total sweetheart while working together on a farm. Enjoy it, bestie, you’ve earned it! 

Tokyo in April Is… (Gaga)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

You’ve probably noticed by now that emotional repression and failed communication are big themes in Japanese works. This second chance romance has plenty of both, and it’s a great example of a kind of muted emotional style that Japan does so well, where the surface of the story seems almost placid and calm even as deep emotion roils underneath. This one (and Eternal Yesterday above) are part of a special line up of jbls on Japanese channel MBS called Tonku (Drama) Shower. The shows air one after another in the same time slot on Fridays (in Japan, perhaps Thursdays for you depending on where you live) and you truly never know what you’re gonna get, but they’re all interesting. Warnings on this one for sexual assault and trauma. 

The End of the World With You (Viki)

Time for sexy and weird again, but even more so! This has to be one of the most unique bls ever made; it goes to some truly divine and strange places, and it feels incredibly queer while doing it. Made by the same screenwriter/director of the Pornographer series with a lot of the same sensibilities, but in a more heightened apocalyptic setting. This one has existential angst, a road trip, a redemption tale, and a variety of interesting side characters in the mix.

What Did You Eat Yesterday? (Gaga)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Congratulations, you’ve reached the end of the list and your reward is watching one of the best bls of all time, and a perfect slice of life food drama to boot. WDYEY now has two seasons (along with a couple specials and a movie that fall in between) because the universe clearly loves us. You can now get it on Gaga for easy access but I’m partial to the versions over at @kinounaniresource for better subs. Wherever you watch, settle in to get cozy with Shiro and Kenji and make sure to always eat before you hit play.

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 8 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 5.1k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), lots of cussing, mentions of food, so much violence. like so much y'all but it's Canon-typical violence, references to (quirk) supremacist views, a (somewhat) graphic depiction of mental health issues

a/n. the content of this chapter is one of the reasons why i almost didn't start this series in the first place. as it turns out, action scenes are deceptively difficult to write—i struggled at first, but i eventually got into the groove of things and found it so fun! so much shit will go down, and i hope you find yourselves at the edge of your seats while reading this <3 please, please let me know what you think and don't be a stranger! enjoy :')

links. masterlist, ao3

You shoot up at the blaring sound of the alarm clock.

You scramble to reach and turn it off where it stands on the nightstand—quickly, before it wakes Bakugou up—a sigh of relief wracking your body when you manage to do so, a sudden stillness instantly enveloping the room.

That relief doesn’t last very long, though, because you’re once again shot with panic when you look up toward the foot of the bed, only to see the man himself already standing in front of it—fully awake.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, clutching your chest, “You scared me.”

“It’s too early to be this scared, princess,” is his pointed retort, a small hint of teasing underlying his tone. You shoot him a pained smile but don’t say anything back, not finding the courage within you to admit that your hands may or may not be already shaking in anticipatory anxiety.

Instead, you watch him as he does mobility stretches in place, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth as he warms up his joints and rotates his limbs. He invites you to join him a moment after, and you do, if not in an attempt to ground yourself then in preparation for any physical combat that may ensue later on.

Not much is said between the two of you as you go on to prepare for the day, maneuvering silently within his bedroom and taking turns in the bathroom. He lets you get changed first, and you shimmy yourself in your most comfortable office clothes, finding almost immediately that describing them as ‘comfortable’ might be a stretch. Least suffocating, maybe—but the instructions were clear that you had to look the part, at least so that you could get past the guards and enter the building.

Apparently, you need to infiltrate the place organically to buy you as much time to position yourselves without raising suspicion. Mystically showing up on the premises with a man who will vanish not a moment later wouldn’t exactly be a common sight for the employees manning the CCTVs.

Well, then. You guess your long-sleeved blouse, slacks, and regrettably heeled shoes will have to do.

Not even five minutes after you step out of the restroom so he can get dressed himself, Bakugou emerges in a similarly dark, wrist-length shirt and trousers, and you’re about to comment on this unfamiliar yet…welcome sight when your eyes catch his notoriously unruly head of hair—magically pushed back, revealing his forehead.

Now, of all the things that strangely popped into your mind upon seeing him—handsome definitely wasn’t one of them—what you end up blurting is: “How the hell did you style it that fast?”

“Huh?” he responds absentmindedly, fiddling with his sleeves as he seats himself on the edge of the bed opposite from you. “Style what?”

You gesture towards his head. “Your hair. Hasn’t it always been a little hard to control?”

Folding his sleeves right up to his forearm, he then turns to face you, a borderline sheepish expression etched on his features. “’s some extra strong gel. Best Jeanist gifted it to me for my birthday.”

Ah.

“Yeah, well, it suits you,” you offer honestly, averting your gaze just as you think he is about to flash you a smirk. And before he can say anything: “I’m guessing you’re ditching the gauntlets for today?”

He nods, although he’s suddenly looking far from pleased. “No choice,” he intones, “My firepower will take a hit, but I can still get by without them.”

“Enough to kick some ass?”

A grin. “Always.”

You let Bakugou’s well-earned confidence infect you as you finish getting ready together, stuffing your respective bags with things you can let go of in case they get caught up in the fight, before finally walking out of your little sanctuary and into the living room. The twins are on you in an instant, installing your trackers on your chests where they’ve since taken residence for the past two weeks, pulling away without a single word afterward. You mutter a quick thanks, before walking toward Bakugou on the couch and asking him what he wants for breakfast.

“Something light,” is his answer. “Don’t wanna be bogged down by a heavy stomach.”

You end up getting him french toast with a protein shake—whether or not that was light for a man his size, you have no idea—while ordering a croissant and iced tea for yourself. You don’t bother asking the twins if they want to get something as well—opting to just get them breakfast sandwiches and coffee instead. You heard a stomach grumble just a few minutes ago—and it definitely wasn’t yours or Bakugou’s.

The food arrives just as quickly as it did the night prior, and you waste no time digging in. To your pleasant surprise, the twins accept the offering, albeit too begrudgingly for your taste. Maybe letting them starve was the smarter move for today’s final mission, but as you watch them scarf everything down in a matter of minutes, you decide that that’s a trade-off you’re willing to overcompensate for.

By the time you’ve finished eating and cleaning up, it’s a few minutes before 6 AM, and you resolve that as far as D-Days are concerned, the start of this one is going swimmingly well.

Right up to the moment Kouki materializes and grabs Bakugou’s wrist but not yours.

“Change of plans.”

At that, you instantly freeze just as Bakugou barks: “The fuck do you mean change of plans?”

That doesn’t seem to faze the teleporter, who instead regards the pro-hero with a stern, almost chastising look. “You’re needed in one of the schools. You’re coming with me.”

Somehow, you snap out of it. “But you said—”

“It’s a direct order,” he spews, now looking at you with such intensity that has your blood turning cold. “One that you have to follow. Unless…”

“Unless, what?” growls Bakugou.

He smiles. “Unless you want us to call off the entire operation and teleport where you can’t find us.”

Fuck.

Beside you, Bakugou must be thinking the exact same thing, because he suddenly goes quiet.

Kouki harrumphs. “That’s what I thought.”

Neither Bakugou nor you say anything else in protest after that, acutely aware of the gamble that has to be made.

It’s clear as day: either you follow the order and divide and possibly conquer, or resist and lose them altogether.

Perhaps for good.

Armed with the explosives Bakugou made himself, no less.

You chance a glance at the pro-hero, and the impassive look on his face is enough to tell you what he’s decided on.

You’re running out of time and you also need to say something, you know that. Otherwise, he’s going to think there’s something more important to the two of you than seeing the operation you’ve been devotedly ‘working on’ to fruition.

Something beyond just two lovers ensuring each other’s safety.

Forcing yourself to meet Kouki’s steely gaze, you finally relent and nod. “How’s the rest of us gonna get to our post, then?”

“I’ll come back right after I teleport him,” comes his speedy answer, seemingly satisfied with your newfound enthusiasm. “I’ll take you three to where Masaki is waiting near the Prime Minister’s Office.”

“He’s already there?” you can’t help but ask, suddenly nervous at the mention of the kingpin.

You still don’t know his quirk.

“Yes, and he mustn’t be kept waiting,” Kouki says cuttingly, before turning to regard Bakugou, whose wrist he’s still holding. “We’ve to get going.”

“Alright,” the pro-hero grits out, shrugging off the man’s hold, “Just—give me a sec.”

For a second, you think he’s going to head to the restroom to pee before the ‘mission’ starts, but then he’s stepping towards you, and you barely manage to stop yourself from tilting away when he leans into your space, immediately followed by a firm grip on your shoulders. Despite yourself, you gulp.

Bakugou lets out a long exhale. He’s not looking at you—you note—gaze directed towards the floor. You decide then and there that you don’t like seeing him like this.

Like he’s actually…scared.

“Hey,” you whisper, and he looks up, finally meeting your eyes. You almost stumble at the sheer intensity of them.

Almost.

In spite of that—and you don’t know how you do it—you manage to smile at him, as genuinely as you can.

“What are you so worried about?” you tease, voice soft enough for just him to hear. “I’ll be okay.”

To your dismay, that doesn’t make Bakugou laugh—countenance still grim—but his features do soften. So minutely, the change is almost imperceptible—but it’s there.

“How can you be so sure?” he actually whispers back.

That makes you grin, the answer already at the tip of your tongue.

“Because you don’t date losers.”

Now, at your quip, you expected him to at least smile. Maybe chuckle, if that punchline came out funnier than you intended it to.

But what you absolutely didn’t expect was for him to grab you by the neck and pull you into a kiss.

It takes you a second to realize what’s happening, body rigid in utter surprise, but you eventually relax into his hold, wrapping your arms around his torso as he deepens the kiss. A few more seconds pass by with your lips interlocked before he finally pulls away, face flushed and a little out of breath.

“Be careful,” he eventually gets out a beat later, and you nod, suddenly hyperaware of the three pairs of eyes watching you.

Kouki’s especially.

“You, too,” you call out to Bakugou as he lets go and returns to the spot beside Kouki, who once again takes his gauntlet-less wrist.

“We’ll be off, then,” the old man announces, and just like that, they’re gone.

Kouki returns—alone—in record time, an inexplicable expression written on his face. You debate whether or not to ask him how things are at Bakugou’s location, ultimately deciding against it when the man impatiently beckons you to move. You promptly approach and hold onto him just as the twins adjust their portkeys without much complaint, all the while trying to ignore the churning sensation at the pit of your stomach.

The borderline nauseating feeling doesn’t get any better as you get whisked away from Bakugou’s apartment unit in a matter of seconds, suddenly finding yourself sat as you emerge in what you think is an SUV—judging by the size of its interior. You squirm in your seat—too caught up in the discomfort of being squished between Kouki and Omiru in the back—to notice it.

But then you look up, and when you do, the churning from earlier stops and your stomach drops entirely.

From where he’s conveniently plastered in the driver’s seat, Masaki turns to fully face you, smiling.

Or at least you think he is, based solely on the upturn of his lips.

Because hiding his gaze is what seems to be hardened, high-tech goggles.

Goggles that completely block your view of his eyes.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You vaguely register Masaki thanking Kouki for bringing the three of you to him, and you think Kouki must’ve teleported away judging from the faint swell in wiggle room at your sides. But you couldn’t recall when that was exactly, and this very thought sends another shot of panic through you, the taste of bile now blooming in your throat.

You know what you have to do.

Clenching your eyes closed, you center your attention on the primary emotion you’re feeling—fear, unmistakable fear—and pull.

Instantly, you feel your facial muscles relax, cautious enough to let the change appear slowly—both in your face and in your frame.

The last thing you need is to inadvertently confirm any suspicion about your quirk.

Even if it means using a huge chunk of today’s reservoir on yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter open, and you’re once again met with the sight of Masaki, whose torso is now turned towards you.

Shit.

You scramble for something to say.

“I-isn’t it a bit too early?” you ask, averting your gaze toward the car window. “Is the Prime Minister even around at this hour?”

You don’t get to see Masaki’s reaction to your sudden question—you wouldn’t be able to study his eyes anyway—but you hear him shuffle in his seat, turning back to face forward. “Yes, he’s expecting a visitor.”

A million questions come up in your head—how he even knows that information is one of them—but what you end up asking is: “How about the rest?”

That must’ve been the right query to ask, because Masaki hums in what you think is approval. “People will be there, Y/N. When the Prime Minister’s around, most of the employees are expected to be present.”

You guess that makes sense.

You don’t say anything else after that, opting to peer at Masaki through the rearview mirror instead. To your surprise, he shifts his head towards the very same mirror, and you’re almost sure he’s looking straight back at you.

He smiles again. This time, a little too knowingly.

“Is there something—” he starts, before trailing off and pointing to his eyepiece. “Oh, this?”

You bristle. Still, you feign ignorance. “Huh?”

“You seem to have been staring at my glasses.”

You let your brows furrow, as if in confusion. “I…don’t think I was?”

“Cut the crap, Y/N,” Omiru suddenly spits at you from the side, and you startle.

“What the—”

“Now, now, Omiru,” scolds Masaki with that placating tone of his. “Y/N might’ve been lying to us but we still have a mission to finish.”

You blanch. “Lying?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” comes the leader’s quiet response, who’s watching the scene unfold behind him through the mirror. “It’s a pity our surveillance men took so long to notice, how you had us acting strangely, that day we met.”

Masaki cocks his head to the side, before: “Your quirk works via eye contact, doesn’t it?”

You stiffen.

“Thought so,” he concludes, and you bite back the urge to close your eyes in defeat. It’s too early to give up.

“Don’t worry, though,” he adds on after a beat, finally bringing the engine to life. “Nothing will happen as long as you cooperate and use luck when I tell you to.”

…Luck.

Did he just say luck?

Your eyes must’ve widened a bit at what he just said, because he continues. “Ah, Bakugou?” he asks, and suddenly you’re hit with the guilt of not thinking about the pro-hero.

Especially when he says the next thing.

“Like I said,” Masaki drawls, “As long as you cooperate, no one gets harmed.”

A pause.

“Even him.”

Your question gets answered as soon as you stop at the guard house.

Masaki’s quick to take off the goggles before rolling down his window, greeting the primary security guard with such innocence you definitely couldn’t have guessed he was on his way to an assassination if you based on just the encounter alone.

The guard flashes him an easy grin as he greets back, before bringing the walkie-talkie that’s velcroed on his shoulder closer to his mouth. “Masaki Kento of the Korean Consulate, heading towards Building C. I repeat, Masaki Kento to Building C.”

A bunch of static emanates from the device, immediately followed by a robotic voice. “Copy that. Let him in.”

At that, Masaki salutes him a thanks, which the guard returns fervently. You don’t even get to catch a glimpse of the former’s eyes before he’s got the window up and the eyepiece swiftly back on his face.

“Let me guess,” you pipe up as Masaki rounds a curb and drives more slowly as you enter the grounds, “You’re a consul and these two are your domestic bodyguards.”

“Yes,” Masaki readily confirms, “That is correct.”

That explains why he’s almost never present in the headquarters.

“Huh,” is the only thing you can muster, focus now trained on any human that you pass by.

The less they are in number, the better—is what Bakugou said. So far, most if not all of them are decked out in attire guards would normally wear, which you think isn’t much of an unfamiliar sight in this estate.

Eventually, you arrive at the front of what you believe is Building C, stepping out of the vehicle with your handbag in tow a moment later, smoothing the crinkled lines of your slacks. You pretend not to pay attention as an again bare-faced Masaki hands over the keys to the valet, who is off with the vehicle in seconds to what he said was the multi-story car park.

You don’t dare utter a word as you trail behind the man carrying a bulky briefcase you’re positive contains nothing but bombs, with the twins walking in step behind you. You keep your eyes fixed on the staircase as you do, painfully aware of how your nerves are coming back alive, and this time, somewhat more fiercely than before.

You know better than to waste another ounce of your quirk on yourself, though.

And so with ragged breath, you trudge on with anxiety creeping back up your spine, up until you’re met with another guard at the entrance, who makes a quick work of identifying the four of you. You’re introduced as Masaki’s new personal assistant, while the others just reiterate their established titles. The guard then grants you entry, but not before instructing you to register your name at the reception desk.

Masaki thanks the man on your behalf, and then finally—you enter.

The second that you do, though, you can tell something’s wrong.

For one, right behind the desk that you were ordered to approach, was nobody. Not one receptionist.

Nor are there janitors, guests, employees, or anyone that could possibly be in the Prime Minister’s Office at this hour.

Masaki, who just put on the goggles again, must have thought the same thing, because you catch him physically tensing, like this wasn’t part of the plan.

You’re about to ask him—genuinely—why the place seems to be deserted, when it happens.

Something fast lurches from the shadows in your peripheral vision, and you stumble back just in time to see Hiroto slammed to the ground by no other than Kirishima.

The male twin lets out a yelp in pain as the hardened hero wrestles him in his grip, all at the same time as a long string of tape suddenly fills your vision. You look up, and sure enough, there’s Sero swinging right into Omiru foot first, hitting the woman square in the jaw. She staggers violently backward, right into you—but the collision doesn’t happen, because a hand grabs your wrist out of nowhere and you’re pulled to the side.

A tidal wave of relief washes over you as you let yourself get forcefully dragged, but it’s instantly replaced with terror when you look up to see Masaki’s backside instead. From a distance, you hear Kirishima’s voice call out your name, and it snaps you out of your fear-driven trance. Renewed with unbridled strength, you put as much of your weight as you can on your soles and try to wrangle your hand out of his grip, but it’s too strong.

Masaki manages to haul you toward the end of the hallway, throwing you right into an elevator and punching the close button before you can pick yourself back up on your feet. You barely see him pressing the top-most floor before he turns around and grabs you by the shoulders, pinning you hard against the wall.

“You told them about us, didn’t you,” he seethes, manic, but you don’t dare say anything. At your silence, he lifts you a breadth’s hair away from the surface only to slam you back against it. You can’t help it—this time, you cry, a sharp pain sent straight to your back.

“Answer me,” he demands, and you’re just about to knee him in the balls when the elevator dings. You wait for Masaki to get distracted and look away so you can deliver the blow, but it doesn’t happen. His gaze seemingly remains fixed on yours even as he lugs the two of you out of the box, grip unrelenting as he approaches the nearest fire alarm device, smashing the glass before pulling down the lever.

Almost instantaneously, tens of alarms ring out not just on your floor but on the ones below you, and you can only watch in horror as the numbers on top of the elevators freeze.

“Kouki,” Masaki rasps into his earpiece, his two hands busy holding you at arm’s length. “Kouki, do you copy?”

You growl, a surge of indignation washing over your entire body at him blatantly ignoring you. You extend your leg from underneath in an attempt to trip and then pin him down, but he takes notice in the nick of time and staves off your attack.

“Kouki,” he tries again, even as you manage to ram a punch into his stomach, “Answer me!”

You grit your teeth, feeling your limbs quaking as you fight to fend off his grip. Still, your mind wanders as to why he’s calling Kouki now, of all times.

What, so he can teleport him and the twins out of here?

But then he speaks again, and you see crimson red.

“Kouki, kill him now!”

Your body moves before your brain can think—you throw yourself onto Masaki and grab him by the neck. He stumbles backward until he collapses and his back hits the floor, and you take that as an opportunity to immediately straddle him, increasing the pressure on your chokehold. He splutters for a bit, arms flailing and scratching at you, but before you can even think about trying to rip off his eyepiece and potentially taking the upper hand—at least until Kirishima and the rest arrive—he rolls over and has got you pinned under his weight in seconds. He pulls the same move and roughly wraps his hands around your neck, instantly cutting off the air to your lungs. You wheeze, and yet you still struggle even as you feel the last bits of oxygen die out.

He grins at you, and one look at the man’s face tells you he’s gone mad. “You’re on the wrong side of history, Y/N.”

Great, you think to yourself. Those can’t be the last fucking words you hear before you die.

You make one last attempt at seizing his wrist off of you, but—just like many other things in the past five minutes—that doesn’t get to happen, because something flashes in the corner of your eye—so quickly you think you must’ve imagined it. You squint, and in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have, because, in the second that you do, Masaki is kicked off of your body and slammed straight into the far wall.

Shellshocked, you crawl backward with your forearms as fast as you can, not knowing what the fuck just happened.

But that’s when you see him.

You can only watch in disbelief as Bakugou propels himself across the room in a matter of a millisecond, towering over Masaki’s body instantaneously. “Get back!” Bakugou shouts, and it takes you a beat to realize that he’s talking to you.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

With the little, remaining strength you can muster, you manage to stand back up and hobble towards the corner of the room, farthest from where the two are currently engaging in a fistfight.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that Masaki’s holding up better than you expected him to, and the very same realization must’ve dawned on Bakugou, because the pro-hero swiftly switches gears and starts detonating small explosions toward the man’s direction.

But then the weirdest thing happens.

Instead of being hit by Bakugou’s blasts, Masaki absorbs them—right where the combustions meet his body—

And then, in the blink of an eye, releases it—almost twice in size—straight into Bakugou.

You hear the pro-hero curse just as he barely manages to dodge the hit. The discharge reaches the wall, leaving scorched marks and massive craters on the surface.

This is bad.

And you don’t even have to look at Bakugou to know that.

Still, the pro-hero presses on, and you stand there—restless—as the fight resumes in front of you. Bakugou’s stopped using his quirk to attack altogether, only using it to expertly maneuver himself in the air. Masaki’s fending off the strikes well enough, even landing a few hits here and there. You try to hold eye contact with him—but it’s no use. He’s still wearing the goggles, and you’ve studied them long enough this morning to be fairly sure that it’ll take more than just a perfect kick to the head to have it taken off.

That’s when it dawns on you.

You can’t manipulate Masaki. That’s for sure.

But you can manipulate Bakugou, who—based on what you can see—is becoming more and more frantic by the minute.

No fucking time to hesitate.

“Bakugou!” you shout, and the man doesn’t even glance in your direction, only shouting back: “What?!”

“Look at me!” you yell, pupils darting in record speed as you follow Bakugou’s volatile line of vision. You weren’t about to miss him when he does.

He doesn’t question your request, but he doesn’t immediately look at you either, too wrapped up in hitting Masaki and not getting hit back.

But then Masaki’s suddenly got him pinned against the wall across you, and you find yourself immediately face to face with him. You scream, “Now!”

Exactly right on cue, Bakugou’s gaze drifts from Masaki’s face to yours, and when you lock eyes, you pull.

Manic adrenaline to laser-sharp acuity.

Acuity that he’s always had since you met him in high school.

As hard as you fucking can—and with all that you have left—you pull.

And just like that, Bakugou’s entire countenance changes. You can only watch as the metaphorical gears in his head seem to come alive and shift—just as he throws Masaki off of him with unmatched force.

But then he does the unimaginable.

He starts bombarding the man with explosions—one blast after another, not allowing him the chance to even sit up and shield himself—and you stare in outright shock as Masaki’s body glows redder and redder.

Just as you think Bakugou’s completely lost his mind with the series of attacks, he launches himself from the wall and dives into Masaki, grabbing the man’s arm, tugging him to the nearest door with one hand and yanking the slab of wood open with the other.

And only as Bakugou throws Masaki into what you think is a janitor’s closet and locks the door behind him does it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Come on!” Bakugo shouts at you as he presses his entire weight against the door—the door that Masaki’s desperately trying to get through. “Help me lock him in!”

You look around the room for something you can use, your eyes immediately landing on a chair and a moderately-heavy-looking desk. You waste no time grabbing the two pieces of furniture and hauling them toward Bakugou as fast as you can. Taking the chair first, you tilt it by the backrest and lodge it underneath the doorknob until it’s secure enough. You then hurriedly drag the desk to the other side and slide it in front of the door, just as Bakugou propels himself upward and out of the way.

You don’t get to do anything else before Bakugou snatches you by your waist and boosts the two of you toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, smashing against them shoulder-first. You hold onto him for dear life, wincing at the impact even though Bakugou took most of it.

And you’re glad you did everything the way you just did—because not even a second later, the explosion finally goes off—an eruption so massive that you’re both thrown forward from the sheer magnitude alone, the sound of shattering windows and crumbling walls booming in the background. Bakugou loses his balance for a second and you shriek, but he manages to get back into thrusting you into the air with his detonations, carrying you securely in his arms until you reach the ground, gently letting go of you when you do.

The moment your toes touch the concrete floor, though, you’re quick to jump on your feet and hobble away from him.

“Hey—”

Quickly, you tell yourself as you feel the tell-tale pinpricks of tears at the corners of your eyes. Before it’s too late.

But you don’t get to go far enough because Bakugou grabs your wrist, spinning you to look at him. “The fuck do you think you’re go—”

He cuts himself off, the scowl that was just carved on his features instantly falling when he sees your face. “Are you—crying?”

“N-no,” you choke out, although you know it’s no use denying it. You’re already feeling the all-too-familiar closing-in sensation that comes with you overextending yourself.

“Yes, you are, dumbass,” Bakugou retorts, before bringing up his other hand to lightly touch your cheek. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

At the contact, you clench your eyes closed, fighting down the urge to whimper at the steadily increasing pace at which your heart is irregularly racing.

There’s no doubt about it.

It’s now flooding you—the terror that you’ve secretly been tamping down with your own quirk this entire mission—but especially today.

“Fuck—” you warble, and now you’re sure.

You’re having an anxiety attack.

It all happens in a blur—your brain too muddled with palpable fear to keep track of everything around you—but you vaguely register Bakugou wrapping his arms around you and rubbing soothing circles on your back, as he tried to guide your erratic breathing with his.

You remember shaking violently in his hold, gasping for air and barely managing to will yourself to breathe normally as an undercurrent of dizziness coursed through your veins.

You recall sweating bullets but being cold to the touch, and Bakugou ripping out one of his sleeves to use to wipe away your perspiration. It didn’t really help.

And you don’t know how much time passes with you fighting the nausea on top of everything, even as you heard the distant sound of police sirens, but it does—it somehow does—eventually and strangely finding yourself carried away home.

Home to Bakugou’s.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin @lotusstarr | @junehasnotbeenfound @sugalarity @haechansbbg @sikuthealien @reiniella3 @ita606 @xoxoblueyy @mutsu422 @eyesforbkg @kalulakunundrum @venus-xxoo @lemuhr @pinkpantheris @ashers-playpen @bakugouswh0r3 @certaindreampost @3ve88 @tsumuus @4acoffee @anonymity-222 @lousypotatoes @homeless-clown @sk8wh33l @jungkookslittlecarrothoe @jax-the-oregonian @shosuki @reisore @babylambdietcoke @sleepyyhabii @adherethecomingofage @hakvyxo @squishybabei @gin-n-chronic-illness | @matchat3a @harryzcherry @h0nestly-though @cc1306 @gold24fish @bakukags @zennypiee @wannabewolf @kameko-ko @lovra974 @arc6021 @kooromin @surprisemodafakas @ilovedenk-i @st4ntwic3 @j1tterbugaboo @call-memissbrightside @arael-asuka @bakugosgothhoe @biancatomlinson @reads-stuff-quietly | @js-favnanadoongi @stxrrielle @panikk-attackkk @ordola @simpforeveryone @typsichryle @arsonfrogger | @vitoshi @floverisland @confusedmomfriend @poemzcheng @cheezemanz @cax-per | @rorel1a @astolary @trashyforashy @sunaraii @reisore | @beepboopcowboy @kyluskaye | @moonz33 | @lovesabreeze @reblogwhoreowo

[moonastro]

groom persona chart

mercury in the house

what is a groom persona chart? this chart exhibits qualities that your husband will have and possible placements that can be seen in their chart. it is simply a chart all about your spouse in a woman's chart. the asteroid groom can be identified using the code 5129.

mercury represents and embodies ones ability to communicate, express themselves and knowledge. in the GPC it can determine how the husband will communicate with you and how he may express himself with words and knowledge.

reminder: this is my interpretation from observations and first hand experiences, so don't take this to heart.

mercury in 1st house: the fs may speak their mind and tend to talk about themselves often even if other people dont realise it. can come across as blunt, rough and passionate when expressing themselves. can have dominant facial expressions when talking and therefore it is easy to distinguish what they are feeling or thinking because their face can really tell a picture. fs can communicate with full leader mode meaning that they may like to lead or start conversations with people. they surely know what to say and speak with confidence even if what they are saying may not be entirely true.

mercury in 2nd house: fs may come across as sensual, slow and steady with their words. can have a very aesthetically pleasing tone of voice and the style of their voice can be beautiful. this is a placement where the fs has all ears on him. can hum and whistle quite often to express themselves. usually fs can like to refer back to memories they had in the past and talk about the littlest details about it. fs communicates well in comfort places such as the home or their favourite hang out area or just somewhere that brings them peace and security.

mercury in 3rd house: the way that the fs can communicate is quite easy going and childish like. this doesn't mean anything bad but just means that when they are comfortable around you they will show their laid back personality. can aften joke around with their words and not be serious, can joke around a lot either with their actions or with their words. can be the person to speak their mind and be quite upfront with their words. may tend to speak quicker and just love chatting away with other people. fs can also communicate while changing subjects often which can be confusing at times i reckon. as the saying goes that the mind works faster than their mouth so they may be like ten conversations ahead in their head than what you may be talking about.

mercury in 4th house: often the fs can really deeply be affected by words of other people or the other way around, their words can affect others. fs can talk in a nurturing, caring and attentive form. usually their words can move others and develop trust quickly. fs can keep in contact with their relatives often and may have an attachment to his family and can be in good terms with them. fs can communicate by resonating your experiences with theirs in order for you to not feel bad or upset. they like to take things very seriously and personally so they can tend to also not lie as much. they see emotions as something serious so if you tend to joke about your feelings they may get very concerned.

mercury in 5th house: the entire vocab of your fs can be full of fun and enlighten energy, they have a way of boosting other peoples moods with their words. can tend to have luck with expressing themselves and will most likely attract attention and receive help when feeling off. fs can help people when expressing themselves and is someone who makes other people feel relatable and comfortable around them so people can usually talk freely and comfortably with your fs. fs communicates with a positive energy and that makes them have an audience and make other people just watch them speak for hours. thats how entertaining they are.

mercury in 6th house: often the way the fs can express themselves is by taking care of themselves. they aren't the ones to use much of vulgar words but often times may try to fix situations even the ones that they have no place to be involved in. can come across as neat, sensible and organised with their use of words which can usually make a lot of people understand them more. fs can communicate with lots of focus and with lots of observing so that can make them appear distracted because they are also focusing on what is going on around them.

mercury in 7th house: fs can have a soft but frank way of speaking. they tend to not lie and usually dislike liars in general. are very approachable with their speech and can attract people from their way of speaking. the fs may like to defend themselves a lot and can overthink way too much than needed. can communicate fairly and reasonably, meaning that he will give the chance for you to address your concerns as well as speak his own opinion. will try to constantly be respectable of your boundaries and not go too far.

mercury in 8th house: usually the fs can use a lot of vulgarity in their conversations and aren't afraid to address topics that may be viewed as closed off. can hold their silence well and may speak according to the vibe meaning that they can sense when it is or is not the right time to speak. fs can communicate very deeply with you and may include intense eye contact, deep attentiveness and intense responses. are really more of a listener than a speaker and will have a way for others to keep speaking. this is where manipulation can take place, they can ask lots of questions about people and yourself included which can be targeted in order for you or others to keep talking. thats how they can get a hold of secrets easily.

mercury in 9th house: the fs can speak with big words and can change their way of speaking often depending on the day. can make a person really think and wonder when they open their mouths and say something. can have a very smart way of expressing themselves and may be seen as someone who had many trials in life with the amount of maturity and wisdom they bring to the function. fs can communicate with authority and may speak with great confidence and certainty when speaking and sharing something that they are interested in. they will surely share their interests with you in a way of spreading something fun that they enjoy doing so you can have something fun to do too.

mercury in 10th house: fs will have some uncertainties when it comes to expressing themselves, they like to get to the point and not waste their time dilly dallying with their time. they can present themselves to be blunt and straightforward which can make them easily misunderstood. they tend to be more serious when they are talking and are the ones who will joke around with their actions rather than with their words. fs may take things to heart easily and be quite naïve. communication comes when is needed or rather when the surrounding is professional, but nonetheless are very good with remembering and obtaining knowledge about other people.

mercury in 11th house: fs may like talking to groups of people and tend to be confident in their speech. they like chatting with their friends and people closest to them. their way of speaking consists of being themselves Infront of others, being expressive with their hands and they tend to be ones who talk well but may not be the best at listening, they can forget easily or just dont attentively listen due to thinking about other things in their head. fs communicates irregularly and can change their way of speaking often which can make people or yourself think that it is your fault but it is not thats just how they are.

mercury in 12th house: this is a very clear indication of your husband speaking foreign tongue which means that they can be from overseas. can be quite creative with their words and can often surprise people with their hidden or locked away knowledge. can also be very soft spoken and can rarely raise their voice unless absolutely necessary. usually fs can address the slightest things even if you are having an off day, they realise and notice the shift in energy and make sure to address it. fs communicates with feeling, illusion and attachment that can make people think that there is something between them when there's actually not and thats just how they are. can bring delusion when in fact the fs can not think anything of it and misleads others without knowing.

thank you for reading <<33

[neil-gaiman]

I’m a big fan of your works and I’ve been really enjoying all your to-screen adaptations. As a beginner actor looking to observe more, I noticed your texts lend themselves amazingly to acting work. I don’t know much and maybe I’m silly or talking gibberish, in which case I’m very sorry. I’d say the acting in your shows is analyzed and acclaimed by fans to an extend much larger than in other similarly popular shows, which is why I’m asking and not just keeping to myself. In my opinion it’s maybe because you give your stories beats that are exciting to see on your character’s faces and inner conflicts that lend to innovative choices from this point of view. I mean mostly that your characters often have at least some physicality, vocabulary characteristic or just some quirks that an actor would love to play out and that also makes sense story wise. I don’t think you have a single character that is not given enough to give a good performances and doesn’t have at least one thing that is fun to play out. So to the question, Is this expressivity something you actively edit for and seek out in your process for the screen, or rather associated to the nature/themes/tone of your stories? Or is it perhaps something else that makes your scripts successful in this regard? How does your writing style and process change when you need to adapt to the screen - do you ever have to change something to give it screen presence? Sorry for the awkward english (I have no idea how to describe whatever I’m talking about) and the too-long text. Thanks in advance and have a beautiful day!

I want to give actors fun things to do and good things to say. I want to give characters interesting things to do and important things to say.

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi! so far I've loved everything you've written about Kurt, Logan and Remy. 🧎🏻‍♀️

Could you write something about Kurt? where together with reader they are in the kitchen of the mansion because they can't sleep, and she finally tells him her concerns about the magnitude of her powers and Kurt with his heart of gold tells her beautiful things to calm her down and make her laugh, the rest to your imagination, I would appreciate it, you write great! Thanks 💙✨

SFW! Nightcrawler/Fem!Reader

Ok so I will admit that I made this a leeetle self indulgent. I was trying to think of a power someone could really struggle with and a fun one that I thought of was having necromancy, but having such respect for life and death that it feels wrong. I thought it would fit well with a Kurt fic because it's something that almost feels sacrilegious, and it's good to have a fuzzy blue elf assure you that you aren't a monster :) I know its def not power ambiguous, but I hope this is okay :)

Also, I know my writing style is a little different in this one, And thats because the first few paragraphs set the tone for my writing when I start and tbh I think this one just flowed from my soul to they keyboard.

TWs: nightmares, necromancy, gross descriptions of rotting flesh. Extreme self-doubt and self-consciousness. Basically angst with a happy ending.

You’ve been having nightmares again. They hardly seem to stop, but after a break in between the terror, you'd become too relaxed. Too comfortable. You felt defenseless when they started to begin again.

It’s always the same dream, different font. Bones cracking, flesh ripping as it’s forced into place, natural or not. Skin rotting off of once human bodies, sockets where eyes used to be. It was horrifying. You’d see your family, friends, acquaintances, everyone. Dead. Brought back to life by your power, the power you were still so afraid of. You were always afraid of zombie movies as a kid. Anything rising from the dead, anything breathed back to life in some sick and twisted fantasy. It was ironic that your very own strength was the thing you had always been the most afraid of.

Of course, as you aged and the professor took you in, the fear began to wear off. Mostly, it did. The professor not only taught you how to control your powers but also how to work around your fear. You can remember the confusion you felt when he had set a box of ancient bones in front of you. Fragments of titans, dinosaurs who had long since passed. Bones that would never be matched to an accurate set, parts of them being crushed to dust by the cruelty of time. Bones that only you could breathe to life, to bring them together as a whole again. It was convenient, the professor had told you, that you only needed a fragment to do so. He spoke as if it were a service to them. Most importantly, he brought you a box of bones that weren’t, and never had been, human.

He had taken the fear out of your power. Given you an option you had never considered before. Bones without flesh, without living family. Fossils that would serve you as you were serving them. You were… happy, with that. You were content. You could handle bones. You could revive these ancient skeletons without fear, and fight with them without worry. That didn’t change the horror of knowing the capacity your powers had.

    So the nightmares remained, and your sleep had become sparse.

    This particular night you were restless. Unable to sleep despite how tired you have been, but it’s hard to rest when there is only terror waiting behind your eyelids. After a while, you decide to give up trying.

The path to the kitchen is one you have memorized, even in the dark. You’ve always been told never to eat sugar before bed, but the only thing you want to comfort you at this moment is hot chocolate- so screw it.

    You try your best to be quiet while fishing out a pot out of the cabinets. The stove makes a click as you flick it on, filling the pot with milk before stirring it as it warms. The automatic task is comforting, falling into a routine you enjoy. You’ve just added the coco mix when the sound of a *Bamph* greets you.

    “Guten abend.” Kurt whispers, walking over to stand beside you. You give him a tired smile that he returns with a yawn.

    “I’m sorry if I woke you.” You say, face returning to a frown Kurt thinks you wear far too often. Maybe it’s good that he’s here because you realize you made far too much of the sweet drink than you had meant to. You get a mug for him, heart fluttering as his hand brushes your own when he takes it from you, thanking you quietly.

    “You did not wake me, Schatz. I promise.” Kurt says, pulling out a chair for you with his tail as he sits at the table. You nod silently, placing the pot in the sink and filling it with water before you join him, leaning against his shoulder.

    “Did you have another nightmare?” Kurt asks after a moment. His brows are furrowed in concern, and you fail to stop him before he takes a sip from the scalding coco, burning his tongue. He scrunches his nose as he sticks out his tongue, making you giggle for a moment. He thinks your laugh suits you much more than your frown, even if it happens to be at his expense. Your face falls slightly anyway, and he wonders if he could get you to laugh if he did it all over again.

    “...No. Not tonight.” The words come out as less than a whisper, and you doubt he might hear it if it weren’t the middle of the night. Little did you know he’d block the world out if he had to, just to hear you speak a little clearer. He hums in response, and you feel his tail slowly wrap snugly around your waist, the very tip idly stroking you in a comforting manner.

    “...Do you wish to speak about them?” Kurt asks after a moment. You huff slightly, feeling the hot steam from your mug warm your face as you do so. Still too hot, you think to yourself. Flashes of those horrid nightmares come to mind, and no matter how quickly you try to shake them off, they remain. You choose to think of Kurt instead. Sweet, kind, comforting Kurt. You want to bury yourself in his arms, sink into the feeling of his skin, and never let go, if only he would let you. He would without a second thought, if only you had known. You think carefully about your next words, and the visions of flesh and corpses hardly leave you.

    “Am I a monster, Kurt?” You hear a quiet, cut-off gasp from Kurt, and he turns to you. His face is pained, and he sets his mug down to place his hand around your own, still clasped around the hot cocoa. 

    “Of course not. Only a fool would think so.” His words, although comforting, only leave you with a worse sting in your heart. You can’t hold eye contact with him, staring at the reflection in your mug instead. Only a fool would think so. You halfway wonder if you count as a fool, then.

    “I, just… My powers, what I do. What I am capable of doing. It’s not right.” You take a shaky breath in, desperately trying not to break down here and now. “It’s disgusting. It’s horrible. Every time I find myself comfortable with myself I am reminded of what is possible and I spiral. I don’t want it. I don’t-”  

  “Liebling.” You let out a sob at the sound of his voice. Kurt is hunched over, pressing his forehead against your own as he desperately tries to catch your gaze- but you can’t. You can't bear it, and you close your eyes tightly. Kurt takes the mug from your hands. He cups your face as he wipes your tears, and you feel like even more of a monster as he does so. Sobbing as a man with a heart of gold wipes your tears away with love and care.

    “Please, look at me,” Kurt whispers. You try to stop the tears, embarrassed as you fall apart in front of the man you hold so dearly, but it’s hard. It’s so hard. Your chest stings, your throat is sore, you’re sure your nose is running, and yet he still holds you so gently. When your breathing evens out just a bit, you convince yourself to open your eyes again.

    Kurt’s gaze is simply concerned. There is no horror, no disgust, nothing but worry for you. Nothing but kindness. You wonder if you could be even half as good as he is. 

    “You are good. You are kind. You are strong enough to stand by your morals despite the nature of your powers telling you otherwise- and you have the strength to continue to use them and fight your fears anyway. You are one of the most incredible people I have ever met. Do not let your nightmares tell you otherwise.” Kurt’s hold is steady against your cheeks, and your own shaky hands reach up to hold onto his wrists. You sob again as he speaks. You know. You know this. Others have told you, but these words all felt like lies. All but the ones you’re hearing from his mouth. Your tears are slowing, and Kurt leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, leaving the skin tingling. You whisper quiet apologies for crying, and he shushes each one, gently wiping your face with the soft sleeve of his pajama shirt.

  “I would not be here if I didn’t want to care for you, my love,” Kurt says softly. Your eyes widen, taken aback by his words. He called you many things. Liebling. Schatz. Love. But never my love. The words waken butterflies in your belly, and Kurt takes a moment to realize what he’s said. He swallows nervously, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The two of you are treading a line that you both desperately want to cross. 

    Kurt is the first to lean in. He does so slowly, toeing the line between you. His gaze remains on your own as he closes the space, nose nuzzling against your own as he gives you the time to back out if you wish. But you don’t. You want nothing more than to have what he is so freely giving. 

    Kurt kisses you softly, lovingly, and for once the horrors have quieted and are cleared from your mind. All there is now is Kurt, and his soft love. He kisses you a second time before he pulls away, still as close to you as he can be without falling out of his chair. You wonder how he can see beauty where all you see is terror. He wonders if you have any clue just how much of a good person you continue to be.

    He knows he would gladly spend the rest of his life showing you.

[thefemigirl]

★ Dress Expensive Tips

Let me tell you about something that’s completely changed the way I approach getting dressed: learning how to create an elegant, elevated look—without blowing my budget.

Turns out, you don’t need a closet full of designer pieces to look (and feel) like the best version of yourself. It’s all about working with what you’ve got, adding a few chic investments, and a dash of creativity.

▸ Find Your Shape

Choosing silhouettes that flatter your body makes any outfit look intentional.

Experiment with different cuts (like wide-leg pants vs. skinny jeans) to see which shape brings out your confidence. A quick mirror check can reveal if a piece truly complements you.

▸ Discover Your Colours

Neutrals are classic, but the right pop of color can bring you to life.

Notice which hues make your complexion glow—try pastels, jewel tones, or soft neutrals. If you’re not sure, look for style inspo from people with similar skin tones and test-drive their palette. Using ▹ Pinterest ◃ can be very helpful!

▸ Accessorise with Intention

A few well-chosen pieces can completely transform a basic outfit.

Invest in simple, high-quality everyday jewellery (like gold hoops or a delicate necklace). For statement occasions, add eye-catching pieces—think drop earrings or layered bracelets.

▸ Make the Bag Count

Your purse can be the perfect accent or a major distraction.

Have a reliable everyday bag that’s very good quality. For special outings, grab a fun, budget-friendly statement bag that pops without clashing with your outfit.

▸ Elevate Your Shoes

Footwear can make or break your look in seconds.

Swap casual flip-flops for a sleek flat or kitten heel. If you prefer sneakers, pick a simple, versatile style that doesn’t overpower the outfit.

▸ Tailor and Iron

Wrinkles and poor fit can dull even the prettiest pieces.

Iron or steam your clothes to keep them looking fresh. And if something doesn’t fit quite right, consider tailoring (or learning some basic sewing skills) to make it your own.

▸ Build a Strong Foundation

Basics aren’t boring—they’re the backbone of a versatile wardrobe.

Stock up on neutral tops, flattering jeans, and a few layering pieces. Mix and match these staples with your statement items for endless outfit combos.

Looking elegant is about knowing your body, playing with colour, and being thoughtful with how you style every piece. Your wardrobe should celebrate you—every curve, every shade, and every bit of your beautiful personality.

Sending you so much love on finding your next outfits,

[gabbysgoobers]

Arc 3 designs but you gotta hear me out 😭🙏🏾

I wanna start with Ezran because he’ll be 19 after the timeskip and I truly believe he’ll be tall and skinny goddammit!!

Design Thread ⬇️

Okay first, I feel in my bones Ezran should grow up to be tall and lanky. No fat, no muscle, just tall. Even taller than Callum cuz that image is funny to me🙂‍↕️. I thought about what might change his look by the time he’s 19 and the first thing that came to my mind was his hair.

King Harrow's hair worked really well for him and he wore it like that for Ezran’s whole life. I can see Ezran looking at a portrait of his father and wondering what it’d be like to look a little more like him. But also, Ezran is his own king, not his father. So, as opposed to locs, I thought twists would be a fun way to style his hair. I considered giving him braids like the orphan queen but I wanted to keep that up-do silhouette and twists were a great way of doing that.

For his accessories and his outfit, I kept it mostly the same, just shifted it around a bit. I also wanted to keep it very silver. I made his hair beads silver, just like his crown, and the threading on his clothing. His dad was very gold coded so I thought Ezran could be the silver to his father’s gold.

Also I gave him green eyes cuz why tf are his eyes blue when his moms are brown and his dads are green.🤨

2. Imma get Callum out of the way cuz I see no significant change in outfit happening 😭

I kept his outfit the same, I already really liked the blue with hints of red, I just changed where they were located. I also think it’d be cute if Rayla braided little braids into his hair for fun and he just leaves them there.

And since Callum visually bulked out a little bit in arc two so I can see him being like, kind of weirdly muscular. He doesn’t work out. Ever. But I think it’s funny to think that it’s just in his genes. Like being tall and skinny is in Ezran’s lmaooo.

3. Aanya next cuz I had a lot of fun with her.

First I want to talk about her overall silhouette. She's very skinny, even in Arc 2, and I expect she’ll stay that way. Although I see her being very toned and fit, but still skinny. Her outfit though I see being very padded and bulking her out. Making her look bigger than she is and making her look like she’s always battle ready. Her sleeves are big and round and her chest thoroughly padded, making it look like it’s always puffed out. Oh and also she needs to be tall. Not sure why but I can’t imagine a world where she’d be shorter than Ezran.

Her outfit in Arc 2 is already heavily decorated with designs and armour. I didn't put that level of detail here lol cuz I didn’t feel like it but I can see her wearing extravagant outfits, especially the headdress. Here, I took details from her mothers headdress. I also took the design on both her moms clothing and put it on her torso. On Queen Neha it’s right side up and on Annika it’s upside down so I thought it’d be cool to turn it to the side on Aanya, like she’s in the middle between her mothers.

I also noticed the lack of blue on her outfits so I gave her a hint of blue eyeshadow, though I’d never see her fully decked out in makeup like her parents, and hints of blue on her waist and in the ribbons of her hair.

I also puffed out her hair to be more like her moms. I noticed her hair is always slicked back.

4. Last and probably my favorite, Rayla.

I wanted to think about how her look would change realistically. Since she’s said she’s a dragon guard, I think she’d really commit to that over the next few years. Her outfit would change to a lighter blue but I also want to keep her outfit very minimal and aerodynamic like Runaans. Her parents' outfits are very bulky.

I gave her a simple vest and undershirt that drapes down to her legs. I also felt the blue on her parents' outfits were too bright but I knew she couldn’t go back to the assassin's green so I gave her a color a little in the middle. The dark blue she wears in Arc 2 is reminiscent of common outerwear of elves in silvergrove, like Ethari. I loved that outfit but she just didn’t look like a dragon guard. I made her fit teal and also gave her arm sleeves like Ethari’s. I also gave her grey baggy pants which I also noticed are common wear in Silvergrove.

The tattoos on her arms are based off of Runaan's tattoos. Her face tats looks the most like her mothers but I changed them slightly so they’d be unique to her.

And for her hair, it also looks like her mom but I gave her short hair because it felt like a refreshing change. I also like how Ethari’s hair is sort of longer in the back and I tried to give that to Rayla. I think she looks really good!

That’s all but I’m really satisfied with them! And I’d love feedback so if anyone has any suggestions I’m open to editing the designs! (:

[uva124]

THE MOMENT WE WERE ALL WAITING FOR, FINALLY FINISHED THE DESIGN OF ASTER YESSSSSS ✨✨✨✨✨✨❤❤

This design belongs to the Wish rewrite called "The kingdom of wishes" (Written by @annymation and soon illustrated by @emillyverse and me)

Sorry for the delay, but this guy had so many things to draw and I also had a thousand ideas that it took me a while to capture them all (4 drawings wow, even I'm surprised lol)

Now after this introduction I will tell you the procedure of its design :]

2D MODEL:

-Maybe some don't notice it, but for the 2D drawing of Aster I didn't add many shadows, because in the classic Disney movies the animation doesn't have many shadows if we look closely, this is for several reasons (at that time they had to inking FRAME BY FRAME, can you imagine how much longer it would have taken to add detailed shadows? I really have respect for the animators)

(Here are some examples of what I'm trying to explain)

-As I said before, I didn't detach myself much from the concept art of the movie, I just added some other details that occurred to me, Anny and Emy.

-We decided that his cape would have the constellations of the signs of the zodiac (It was Emy's idea), which in the final result are on the cape, the constellations are noticeable more or less depending on Aster's mood.

-In the Wish rewrite it is mentioned that Aster's hair is like a candle (Reference to Hades) so I decided not to add the lineart in that part

His hair changes depending on his emotions, but not only that, but also his lineart, the calmer he is, the cleaner his animation will be, however with strong emotions (anger, sadness, nervousness) his details will be more neglected, especially when He is REALLY angry, by the way I made his hair look like a flame to give more drama to his design and also make a reference to Ember from Elemental

And as a final detail, the star-shaped gem that she has as a brooch changes color, just like her earrings.

3D MODEL:

-When Aster disguises himself as a human, his details on his clothes would disappear and the shape of his accessories would change to ones without a star shape, also the tone of yellow would look duller, you know so as not to draw attention (although he is dressed like a prince with a giant cape, the boy doesn't know how to hide the truth very well lmao)

-In general, it's just that the design becomes simpler, the only thing that changes is her hair that is no longer a flame, her freckles that are no longer little stars, her clothes no longer have so many details and her mark on her eye disappears(￣▽￣) .

By the way, I wanted to thank @the-autistic-idiot for giving us the great idea of ​​Aster having a star-shaped mark on his eye :D.

-Also, I think that those who have seen my other Wish redesigns are wondering why it seems like I had spit a rainbow at Aster's 3D drawings, what happened is that when I was painting my neurons said ✨Change your coloring✨ and well, The drawing in the end came out like this, although I honestly like it better, it better represents how I draw in a traditional way

Yes, basically the coloring of my drawings is as if a unicorn had spit on them lol

FINAL COMMENTS:

-It was very fun to draw Aster! The boy really has a lot of changes, but thanks to him I already discovered my digital drawing style so I am satisfied.

-Again sorry for the delay, I know that for many Aster must be their favorite character so I hope your wait was worth it :]

See you next time!✨✨