#golden hour preview live

[nari-takashi]

So my morning was rocky but I'm better now and ateez had there preview live and I took this screenshot of the live stream

[faeratil]

Normal day:

Wake up around 4:30am to go to work

Come home and nap

This morning:

Wake up around 4:30am

“Gotta work”

Immediately fall asleep after

[jievn]

Wooyoung in [GOLDEN HOUR : Part.2] PREVIEW LIVE

[jeongyunho99]

Yunho ✧ GOLDEN HOUR _ Part.2 PREVIEW LIVE

[anadiasmount]

opposites attract - jude bellingham insta au.

quick sum: in which golden retriever energy jude bellingham tries to shoot his shot with black cat energy y/n. quickly realizing how determined and just sassy she is...

psa🗣️: HIII! this was supposed to be uploaded last week but i got so sidetracked i couldn't finish so here it is! fav insta au i've written tbh, so i hope you all enjoy! 🤍

fc: bella ramirez | pics: pinterest and youtube!

ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, jamalmusiala, yourbestfriend, hudabeauty, others.

ynusername: when in doubt, go with the mini skirt 😛

comments:

username: when in doubt, go take pictures at parking garage! got it!

user283: you are so UGH

username28: i’ve watched the movie like 10x by now. so obsessed with you 😣

↪️ judebellingham: same

user982: in yn we trust! 🙏

yourbestfriend: face card is insane so so so pretty 🫦

username395: you were so badass in your new movie!! legit can't stop watching!!

user953: outfit and skirt are SERVINGGG

user29321: haven't seen such a role as influential and that fits with someone so much xx

username193: ur so black cat energy in your latest interview, yn not giving any f's around here!!

--- ꔫ ---

ynusername added to their stories!

judebellingham sent a reply to your story!

↪️ shall we be on the lookout for this latest roll?? 👀

↪️ yourreply: not anytime soon

↪️ can we get a sneak peek? or would that be too much?

↪️ yourreply: i'm sorry and you are?

↪️ well this is awkward...

↪️ yourreply: mhm...

--- ꔫ ---

spottedcelebrity

liked by: ynusername, judebellingham, user392, username32094, user384, rubendias, popculture, vogue, time, hollywoodnow, others!

spottedcelebrity: we can't get enough of her! she has stolen and broken the hearts of many! passionate and driven to her career, find out more about the new 'it girl', @ynusername, in our 8pm show live tonight! stay tuned for more...

comments:

user8594: THE YN? don't play with us.

username759: its the fact she turned down jacob elordi...

judebellingham: 🤝

username33: so pretty... love how she is careless and her all the time!!

vogue: that's our girl!

user234: crazy how big she got in under a year...

↪️ username483: was telling this to someone the other day! the movie barely had any pr or announcing and now its a worldwide adaptation because of her!!

ynusername: thank u for having me! 🖤

popculture: we're going to ignore who commented? 👀

↪️ spottedcelebrity: stay tuned now guys... 👀

--- ꔫ ---

ynusername added to their stories!

judebellingham sent a reply to your story!

↪️ so beautiful! 😍😍

↪️ yourreply: no.

↪️ no?

↪️ yourreply: look at the second pic again xx

↪️ okay, i looked and what now? :))

seen one hour ago **

--- ꔫ ---

spottedcelebrity

liked by: ynusername, zendeya, jennaortega, username587, judebellingham, popculture, vogue, user342, others!

spottedcelebrity: and it's out, here's a small preview of our current 'it' girl's interview and photoshoot for the april campaign! acting, dating, fashion, and beauty, she gives us all her tips and iconic phrases! join us for our early show tomorrow at 11am!

comments:

username74: HER DRESS! RED IS DEF HER COLOR!

user95: 'i know my standards, and if he couldn't fit them, then that's on him' CAN WE PRASIE??

ynusername: oh my! million thank you's! 🖤

username294: is she real? like how? everyone at her feet and she could give less than a damn? need to be her so bad!

user85: she's such a bitch? wtf? how can you stan her?

↪️ username11: like she said... she's speaking her truth

↪️ user85: for who? herself? she needs a new personality

↪️ username349: people like you are the reason why she is like this. iconic and real.

judebellingham: wow! 😍

username854: jude?? when did this happen?

↪️ user09: he commented on her latest pic!!

↪️ username032: could you imagine? jude with y/n? IT COUPLE?

↪️ user281: black cat gf x golden retreiver bf? OH YEAH

--- ꔫ ---

judebellingham & adidasfootball

liked by: realmadrid, lucasvasquez, brahim, camavinga, ynusername, adidasfootball, marca, vinijr, rodrygoes, fedevalverdde, 4,984,213 others.

judebellingham: tested my inner actor 🫡🫡 adidas predators out now 🖤

comments:

username395: bro wants y/n to notice her so bad

user11: we know what you're doing jude...

lucasvasquez: hermano mejor dedicate al futbol 🤣

camavinga: ohhh now i see who your referring too 👀🫡

↪️ judebellingham: shhh 🤫🤫

↪️ usermane66: @ynusername come get your man

↪️ username13: frr he keeps throwing hints, take this man out his misery, and teach him how to act 😭😭

vinijr: amazing bro! 😍

username29: testing his inner y/n lets not lie to ourselves guys

user87: he looks so bf with this hoodie on!!

brahim: this guy yeah 🤣🤣

adidasfootball: BELLIGOLLL

fedevalverde: someone give him an oscar 🗣️

username45: him using the black heart instead of white says a whole bunch…

--- ꔫ ---

judebellingham added to their stories!

ynusername sent a reply to your story!

↪️ selfie is making up for the attempted ''acting''

↪️ judereply: is it now?

↪️ terrible choice of hat tho, especially with this weather 👎

↪️ judereply: i tried LMAOOO

↪️but guess what? choice of song is also making it up 🫡

↪️ judereply: there's no denying there... definitely on my mind 24/7

↪️ who me? or the song? better be the song because your acting is still stuck in my head 😐😕

↪️ judereply: when i think we're going somewhere... 🤣🤣

↪️ lol, going where? 😕😕

↪️ judereply: yk what im referring too, don’t be so oblivious especially after your latest role!! congratulations on that btw! such a phenomenal job once again! 🤍

↪️ it's very hard to dislike you when you're this sweet 😕 thank you jude!! 🖤🖤

↪️ judereply: why would you dislike me?

↪️ now why would i tell you that

--- ꔫ ---

ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, jamalmusiala, yourbestfriend, spottedcelebrity, username984, user44, ynrealestfan, vogue, username23, judefanandstan, and 2,459,898 others!

ynusername: lace top was giving so 2014 vibes

comments:

username984: how does she rock every single outfit? i'm jealous.

user44: need that hair and makeup comba ASAP!! been asking for it for about a year now :))

judebellingham: still haven't told me why you dislike me 😕😕

ynstan: jude having his notifs on for her post is so bf of him, give him a chance y/n, he has money and can take you shopping ;)

judebellingham liked this comment!

username56: need those pants, where are they from?

yourbestfriend: why don't i get photo creds?

↪️ ynusername: because you took my chocolate churro away. i don't play around with my food.

jamalmusiala: 😍😍

ynusername: thank you!! 🖤

user10: LMFAOOOO NOOOO THIS IS GETTING MESSYYY

judebellingham: oh hell no

judefan: we lost him ladies, his gentle heart doesn't deserve this 👎👎

--- ꔫ ---

judebellingham sent you a dm!

so you respond to jamal's comment and not mine?

yourreply: idkk he is kindaaa 🤭🔐

i've literally have been trying for months to get your attention

yourreply: have you ever thought of maybe just giving up?

really?? what is it going to take?

yourreply: i don't mean to be a debbie downer but what is it you exactly want for me... i can't just trust your word and go for it. it's not me and it hasn't ever been me. i have standards.

so then let me prove to you i can meet them. i promise i'm not like you think or hear. and that's coming from a man who also has standards and just truly interested in someone like you. is that so hard to believe?

yourreply: yes.

i'll prove them to you, you'll see....

--- ꔫ ---

judebellingham added to their stories!

ynusername sent a reply to your story!

really?

judereply: yes really.

why do i even try with you?

judereply: because after today you have a soft spot for me in that deep jade like from victorious little heart :))

who said anything about a soft spot??

judereply: i did. the eyes chico they never lie. and yours have so many specs of unread feelings and emotions i can stare into them all day.

creepy, don't you think?

judereply: you think everything is creepy when you literally love horror movies and the color black

because they prove points xx

judereply: just like rom-come and disney movies also proved points 😉

--- ꔫ ---

spottedcelebreity

liked by: judebellingham, judefan1, ynstanforeal, ynrealestfan, username44, user55, jennaortega, popculture, madridwags, jude22, ynfanbcyes, username76, user21, and 3,872,234 others!

spottedcelebrity: new couple on the block? we are soo into this recent pair, and it seems like they are mending our hearts little by little! y/n recently moved to spain for a movie role, could we see frequent hangouts between them? 👀

comments:

jude22: literally WHAT?

jennaortega: oh i am so into this... i just sit back and observe

username44: despite us seeing a cold and black-hearted y/n, some of the videos released showed her being soft and lovergirl with him!!

madridwags: new wag at the bernabeu soon? 👀

popculture: rumor has it they shared a kiss!

↪️ spottedcelebrity: stay tuned for our live 7pm show tonight!

username76: am i the only one who doesn't ship them?

↪️ user21: yes you are

judebellingham: made her dream date come true!! 🤍

ynrealestfan: when he remembers stuff said in interviews about you <<<

username55: jude attempting to soft launch with y/n while still being in the friendzone is so hilarious i can't 😭😭

--- ꔫ ---

yourusername added to their stories!

judebellingham sent a reply to your story!

can't get over how beautiful you are, it's not fair 😍😍

yourreply: life is not fair

my life is since you agreed on our shopping date 🤷‍♂️

yourreply: only agreed because you offered to buy, a win is a win 😍

yet you're wearing the dress i bought... and going out where to be exact??

yourreply: jealous darling? it's for me to know and well you to find out out. if i don't tell my mother where i go, why would i tell you?

because you kissed and held my hand? and replied to my dm btw!!

yourreply: ...

where are you? i'll meet you there

yourreply: sorry no men invited tonight, it's our girls night out xx

and you're wearing this red stunning short dress? yeah i'll find out where you are, think of me 😘😘

seen twenty minutes ago **

--- ꔫ ---

spottedcelebrity & vogue

liked by: judebellingham, vogue, popculture, ynstanfan, girlpro, username34, user89, username15, ynrealestfan, yourbestfriend, jennaortega, and others!

spottedcelebrity: despite the recent encounter the pair of y/n and jude faced, in y/n new vogue beauty secrets video, she talks about being single and not dating anytime soon... the first picture shows y/n before her fame took off a year ago, has she changed or hasn't changed one bit?

comments:

ynrealestfan: not changed one bit!

popculture: ohh? well this is certainly very interesting!!

judebellingham: LMAOOO, she told me to stay out the room while she filmed? 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

↪️ camavinga: if you all could see the frown on his face right now as he types 🤣🤣

ynusername: oh that's not... guys don't believe that man, all men do is lie lie lie! 😊😊

↪️ judebellingham: not all of us! some of us actually want something serious, real and loving in our life 🤍

username03: jude's comment just proves everything for us...

user54: jude wanting everyone to know about them knowing damn well how our girl y/n is

username33: off topic but we finally got that look everyone was talking about!!

judestan: she is not good for him? she is so mean and bitchy like what?

ynstanfan: girl bye. wdym? i think your golden retriever energy footballer can't bag a baddie like y/n xx

user13: well now i don't know who to believe...

username98: is no one going to talk about how she was watching a rom-com (jude’s fav) and not her typically horror movies?

--- ꔫ ---

ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, camavinga, yourbestfriend, username05: user51, ynrealestfan, ynstanforlife, jennaortega, username38, judefan5, popculture, vogue, and 2,786,899 others!

ynusername: oh i look so sexy in here!! 🤭😩 dinner showcase before new movie “the accountant” releases! this role means so much and i can’t wait for you to see! 🖤

comments:

ynrealestfan: did not have to slay this hard on us 🤭

judebellingham: caption did not lie, prettiest rose in the whole city 🤍

username38: i NEED to be her…

yourbestfriend: when she’s caught and knows it

↪️ yourusername: STOP 😭

limited restriction! **

--- ꔫ ---

judebellingham

liked by: vinijr, gioreyna, jobebellingham, ynusername, yourbestfriend, fedevalverde, brahmin, vogue, spottedcelebrity, camavinga, aurelientchouameni, and 5,679,999 others!

judebellingham: grateful with life and for you. words can’t describe this immense feeling i have for you and your hard work. i love you so much my dereast y/n. i can’t wait to celebrate more moments like this with you 🖤🤍

comments:

ynusername: brb… crying because ilysm 😔🖤

↪️ judebellingham: i love you darling, never forget it xx

camavinga: only took you two three months when we already knew

gioreyna: literally HOW?

jobebellingham: run when you can y/n

↪️ ynusername: trust me i tried but this one is not so bad

↪️ judebellingham: this one is crazy after i spoiled you again…

username79: jude you deserve the world, come to me

user20: can’t believe how he BAGGED y/n

judefan22: so happy for our girl!

yourbestfriend: we lost her ladies

↪️ ynusername: i’m still here babes 😭😭

ynrealestfan: these pictures?? can we talk about how he has good angles?? 😩

juderealestfan: she issss sooooooo gorgeoussss 🫦🫦

spottedcelebrity: congratulations! 🧡

--- ꔫ ---

ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, jennaortega, zendeya, gioreyna, yourbestfriend, vinijr, madridwags, spottedcelebrity, vogue, hbomovies, hudabeauty, camavinga, fedevalverde, brahim, and 6,459,653 others!

ynusername: life lately 🖤 (p.s. no one mess with my baby. i love him very much, unfortunately. in my lover girl era!!)

comments:

judebellingham: unfortunately?? :((

ynusername: come here, i’ll give you a kiss to make it feel better 🖤

↪️ judebellingham: on my way! picked up your favorite snacks and hot chocolate too 🤍

↪️ ynusername: changing my caption rn!! 😔🖤

jennaortega: 🖤

zendeya: OMGGGGGG HARD LAUNCH??

ynrealestfan: never saw this coming 🤭🤭

judefan22: they’re both in their lover eras 😣😣

camavinga: y/n if you could see how jude just sighed and looked up with the biggest grin 😭😂

↪️ ynusername: he is so silly 👎👎

yourbestfriend: it couple i can’t 😩

madridwags: so happy for you two 🤍

vogue: more to come with you two 🤍

--- ꔫ ---

spottedcelebrity

liked by: username55, user91, judebellingham, ynusername, jobebellingham, trentaa, gioreyna, username123, vogue, louisvuitton, user44, username72, jennaortega, user00, and 2,399,494 others!

spottedcelebrity: wow is one word to describe this couple and their ability to make our jaws drop! after recent real madrid footballer jude, posted pictures of his beautiful gf y/n on her birthday and congrats post, the couple poses together at the LV fashion paris show!

comments:

trentaa: ❤️

jennaortega: oh my god.

louisvuitton: what happens in paris…

judebellingham: look at my beautiful and sexy gf 🖤🤍

↪️ ynusername: still made at you for going shirtless and showing everyone what’s mine 😒😒

username53: i just spit out my food

user49: what an entrance they made???

user81: her dress?? SO Y/N CODED !!

ynrealestfan: our favorite and beautiful couple!!

judefan: jude listen to your gf next time

judefanacc: HE LOOKED SO DJJDJDJD

ynstanforlife: just sighed so loud 😔

username91: sexiest couple of the generation

--- ꔫ ---

[holybibly]

This is a little preview of my new series and yes, bunnies, this is a whole series from me. I hope everyone is ready for an erotic dystopia?

Decadent dystopian erotica with majestic dragons - second teaser for today

Glass House Ateez x reader

Everything changed in an instant. 

The king was dead, and thousands of dragons took to the burning skies. The old world was over, and a 'new age' was in the making—an age of gods and monsters. 

A thousand years ago, the fires of revolution blazed across the face of the world. Dragons—the creatures of ancient legends and children's fairy tales—reduced the once prosperous world to ashes in a matter of minutes. Rivers of black blood coursed through the veins of the streets, flooding the cities and lands in their wake. The sky was a blaze of purple flames and electric shocks. The church was reduced to rubble, and the royal family was executed in a public display. In the eyes of the dead, the unspoken horror in front of these majestic creatures remained forever, and in the sparks of the flames, they shimmered like precious sea stones. 

There was a bitter smell of burning flesh and ash in the air. It was the smell of dreams on fire—the smell of a future in decay. 

It was the beginning of the end of ancient life. The beginning of a new world. The Age of Immortality has begun. 

All the legends turned out to be true; dragons did exist. They had always lived close to us, lurking in the velvety darkness of the night, waiting for the hour. Waiting for the hour to come when the power would be in their hands. Dangerous, unbridled, wild creatures of magic and the elements, predators at the top of the food chain. They had come into the world to rule, not to obey, and now, at long last, their time had come. 

The world was at anarchy. Dragons were killing, raping, and enslaving races and lands as if it were an amusing child's game. They drank blood as black as the night from golden bowls, and they ate our succulent flesh as our bones cracked under the pressure of their razor-sharp teeth. They would hold orgies in the midst of the torn corpses and revel in their omnipotence. Those were the days of darkness. A time of terror, when the very word danger was a synonym for life itself. And so it went for several years, until the ultimate power fell into the clutches of the deadly Children of the Night, the oldest of all dragons. 

The majestic Hala. 

Eternal as the moon itself and deadly as the uncharted depths of the ocean, they inspired burning terror in all who encountered them. To their people, they were nothing more than a myth, a legend written on fragments of tablets. Forefathers, ancestors—they had hundreds of names, but each one inspired more fear than the last. They were predators among predators, bristling with animal dominance and primal, unbridled sexuality. They exuded power and sinfulness. They were the ones who defined the rules and set the boundaries of what was permissible. 

With the arrival of Hala, a new phase in the history of the world began. 

Humanity was enslaved, and dragons became the dominant species. As the years went by, the human population began to decline rapidly, with fewer and fewer humans, until "our" species reached the status of gatherers. Angelicus Nova, or Angel Stars, was what we came to be called. Human existence took on a strange religious orientation; we were worshipped, idolized, and adored, but despite all this, humans remained nothing more than a rare exchangeable currency, nothing more than an expensive trinket that was prestigious to own and could be broken with a flick of the wrist. 

The human being also became one of the ways in which money flowed endlessly. These institutions were known as "glass houses." Gateway to heaven. They would be the equivalent of strip clubs or luxury escort houses if you and I were in the old world. The rules were the same: "Look, but don't touch." Girls and boys were expensive pieces of family jewelry that rested under the glass of fancy display cases. Our masters showed us off to the greedy eyes of the world with all the pride and ostentation that dragons have. 

In spite of their possessive, animalistic nature, dragons were nothing more than swaggering bastards with inflated egos and delusions of grandeur.

Humans could be anything as long as dragons owned us—a muse, an innamorata, a nymph, an angel, a siren, or even a goddess—but like everything else in the universe, we came at a price. 

The 'glass houses' were only in operation at night. During the day, all the 'jewels' rested and tidied up after tiring hours of contemplation of the world through the bluish glass of the display window. Nice, obliging workers in starched white collars were busy with the cleaning, scrubbing the baroque decorations of the vetrines with great care from a mixture of sperm, drool, and other secretions. You looked at it with an almost reverent awe, finding it disgusting to the point of bordering on the pornographically beautiful. 

You could see it as real art—crude and original, but art nonetheless. There was something particularly mesmerizing about it, almost hypnotic, about the way the thick, pearly sperm dripped slowly from the golden flowers. 

Of all the glass houses that ever existed, "Eros" was the most beautiful. It was the jewel in the crown of the New Empire, and you were its goddess. There were rumors that the Hala themselves were customers of 'Eros'. But rumors were only rumors. If they were ever to visit your 'home', you would know about it, for they would be where all men ended up—at your feet. 

You were content with the life that you were living. There was no tragedy and no misery, no abusive family or abusive peers, no bullying and harassment at school—no, you had it all great. You were born here at Eros—the growth and blossoming of a beautiful flower. Your whole life has been within the confines of glass rooms and silk sheets, but unlike your dreamy friends, you weren't in need of rescue. 

Your name is Aphrodite. Born in the radiance of the Creator. A goddess among goddesses, carved out of marble and mother of pearl. Your hair falls to the ground in waterfalls of pearls and silk. Your eyes are the eerie silvery moonlight in half-darkness, the deadly attraction of jewels in velvet lashes. Your lips are the succulent, juicy, forbidden fruit that every man would like to taste. The pain of your kiss is going to be the last pleasure of life. 

You are not a delicate, pure lily; you are not a passionate, fiery rose; you are a narcissus reveling in the crystal of mountain waters. You love yourself to pain, to death, to despair, and in all the New Empire, there was none more beautiful than you. 

Original sin. The primordial beauty. You are desire in all it manifests and begins to manifest. 

The naked goddess, clad in snow-white fur like armor, is the goddess of love and ecstasy. 

You've never been conceptualized; you've always been enigmatic. 

You have been the object of worship. Your beauty has been sung in songs, and your love has been professed in a thousand languages. "Eros" was the site of visits from the mightiest and most powerful dragons of the New Empire. They all crawled at your feet, stroking their thick, greased with their cum cocks, greedily as they burned your skin with their golden gaze. They licked the deceptively thin glass of your display case with their long, sometimes split tongues, leaving muddy streaks on the perfect surface of the glass. The mighty and great dragons, unaccustomed to humiliation and submission, urinated like bitches in heat at the mere sight of your bare shoulders and long neck covered with diamond serpents, their eyes shining like stars in the twilight of your silken chambers. They would drip their sperm onto the icy marble floor until it collected in small, glistening puddles, and then they would lick it up as if it were the sweetest nectar in the world. Ambrosia in the truest sense. 

Behind the glass walls of Eros, they were dominators, predators, and the rulers of this world through fear and pain, but here in this garden of Eros, they were nothing more than whores—shameless and needy. Slaves to your beauty, desperate to please you. 

Their moans are always a delight to you. The moaning of your name. 

The scenarios have been repeated to the point of being painful. Sugar-sweet subs with outstretched tongues and pretty, tear-stained faces. Dominant alphas with sweat-glistening skin and eyes rolling with pleasure.

Dragons fucked other dragons; orgies and bacchanals were staged; they were subjugated and subdued. They growled, moaned, squealed, and purred; some were fucked like a port slut, and some were licked for hours until they passed out from hyperstimulation. Some masturbated in front of your window, enjoying the fact that you were there to watch them, and there were others who would spend their heat and ruts in front of your window. 

The list could go on and on: bondage, darkphilia, breeding, voyeurism, humiliation, objectification, and breathing games.

You were saturated with this game. 

There were so many ways in which you could spend your evenings in the company of others. It was all designed to excite you, to make you beg, and to make you plead. Each of your visitors secretly hoped that one day you would strip off your luxurious furs and assume the position that was right for them—submissive, naked, and ready to accept whatever it was they were giving you. 

It was an act of power; it was a position of strength, but here you were the strength. You were power. 

No one would ever have the temerity to lay a hand on you. Goddesses are always untouchable.

You entertained yourselves by teasing them, mocking them, and fanning their flames of desire and passion. Dragons are creatures that are very dependent on their emotions and their desires; they feed on their power and their magic, but when they do not get what they want, it burns them from the inside; it breaks and crumbles them, like a cookie that has been bitten.

It was delicious, but you were full. Thank you, next.

You never denied that you were a sadist; you had a taste for pain; maybe it was a kind of revenge for the destruction of your family; maybe not. They came to you for that feeling; the dragons wanted to be punished and tamed, and the feeling of pain made them cum harder. As they say, Orgasm is a little death.

You could play this game for hours on end, letting the fur expose your boobs and pressing it against the cold glass as you went. It was magnificent—tall and plump, as if it had been milked with milk—with pink nipples the color of magnolia blossoms. There was something animalistically seductive about it—an appeal to their natural reproductive instincts—that evil thought of possible pregnancy. Their whimpering made you laugh, and the sounds they made were so sweet—desperate pleas and long, long moans.

"Let me taste you; I want it so much. I was a good boy, such a good boy."

There were other days when you would let your hands run over the bare skin of your thighs, leaving long red streaks that stood in erotic contrast to the silk of your pale skin. You smeared the clear, shimmering liquid of your juices along the line of your neck, in that most exciting place for dragons, where their teeth locked in a mating mark, as if branding their mate in the most perverse of affiliations.

"Tell me I belong to you; please say it. I'll do anything you don't want. Own me, use me; I want to be your toy.".

Sometimes other girls would be brought into your shop window to put on an erotic show. Exquisite nymphs and rosy-cheeked Lolitas would explore your tender skin with their soft, wet tongues, leaving traces of hungry kisses, until at last their lips would close on the most intimate spot between your thighs.

On days like this, the whole of 'Eros' would shake with furious, jealous growls and thunderclaps. Dragons were terrible possessive, and even though the "scene" itself would excite the hell out of them, the jealousy would burn through their veins from the inside out, like a deadly poison.

"You belong to me, and only to me. You are mine, mine and mine alone. I will tear this girl apart, and we will fuck in her blood until there are no more conscious thoughts left in your pretty little head, until you remember nothing but my name.".

But no matter what their words were to you, you didn't have a care in the world. Nobody would dare touch the goddess, and if they tried, they would not only lose their hands but also get killed.

That was the law of the New Empire—all the people who were left were protected and sheltered in an incredible way. There were very few of you, and if there had been any harm to even one of you, it would have been a real tragedy.   Only once has there been a breach of that law, and the consequences have been terrible. No one wants a repeat.

In any case, your life in the Garden of Eros was a pleasure. Maybe it was some kind of perverse way of looking at the world and love, but you didn't have any desire to change anything; everything was great.

Have you ever wondered if there might be another version of you out there? Perhaps, somewhere in a parallel universe, humans would still exist as the dominant species, their countries and cities would be prosperous, and you would be living a different life—a normal one. There, in that other universe, that other Aphrodite—no, not Aphrodite—you would have an ordinary name, not a divine one, something cute, something sweet, and always with a hint of shyness. It is probably there that you would have experienced your first love, that you would dream of a prince who would take you off into the sunset, and that "and they lived happily ever after." You would have been embarrassed to talk about sex, and you would have blushed horribly if his fingers had been in your knickers. But you weren't her. And she wasn't you. You don't want to be saved from sinning; you want to become one of them. You want to experience forbidden pleasures. You want to subjugate and dominate.

You're not in need of a prince; you've already had a king, or rather, eight kings. The day will come when everything you have ever dreamed of will come true, even if you haven't met any of the Hala yet.

You want power; you want to sit on a golden throne in a castle high up in the sky, and so it shall be. They say that love is a great strength, but they fail to mention that it is also the greatest weakness. And you, like no one else, know how to use it to your advantage.

This is not a pink fairy tale. There are no rainbow ponies pooping rainbows and eating fairy dust. No, this is a rotten world. It is full of debauchery, violence, and sex. You could say, "Come and rescue me. I'm waiting for  you," but no, you have to rephrase it as "I'm waiting for you to crawl on your knees and lick my heels, and from that moment on, I will own you.".

Yes, that sounds much better.

It's already eight o'clock; time to get ready; you're leaving soon.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most famous glass house in the New Empire. Tonight we have wet aesthetic cunnilingus as our main course, and for dessert, a mind-blowing orgasm. You have a choice of starters. Drinks are on the house. We accept cash and checks. If you wish, you can leave a tip for one of our "jewels.".

Our hope is that your time at Eros will be an unforgettable experience.

[dakyaire]

New Cookie Run Kingdom update preview(for people who don't understand korean)

Before I continue, please consider some things: I'm not the best with korean, so I may have missed various things. Furthermore, I skimmed through the whole livestream because it was 2 hours long, so that might have also caused me skip some stuff.

Another thing before I begin:

COUPON CODE: KINGDOMLIVE2409

Coupon code that's active right now! Go use it asap!

edit: Link to coupon website

Now, to start:

First off, Burning Spice:

Looking at the flaming wheel, it seems just like Mystic flour, Burning Spice will have design changes with promotions.

This also popped up so I assume that you will be able to get this for your mycookie. They will also have more mycookie accesories related to GCC(didn't screenshot, sorry)

Here's a picture of the soulstone

Second, new cookies and costumes:

Tiger Nutmeg(I think, from the leaks) and Smoked Cheese will arrive. However, note that the bottom caption says that THREE epic cookies are coming in this update, so just wait and see.

Then there's the epic costumes on the right, which I have no idea what theme it's based off of; it's probably not related to this update.

These concept arts were also shown. Moonlight and Frost Queen will both be getting legendary grade costumes in december.

This picture, you may have seen before from Braveverse or from other reposts. It was said on stream that from this picture, Gingerbrave, Sea Fairy and Wind Archer will be getting costumes in 2025. The other two will not get it due to complications(?)(also considering that FSC isn't in kingdom yet...)

Golden Cheese Cookie will also be getting an awakened form. It says taht as long as you participate in the event, you will get Awakened GCC for free guaranteed.

Third, new Beast Raid:

It says that it's a destructive god that consumes fear on the small text.

Beast Raid will also be getting a Master Difficulty, with an exclusive design for the monster too.

Fourth, future plans:

Still under development, there will be an update that will release many new epics and a story related to it. This is also related to arena. I skimmed this part too much cuz I couldn't understand it well, I apologize.

There will also be a new mode called cookie adventure. This is still in development. You can probably tell what it is.

For the upcoming anniversaries, the devs plan on releasing two major characters: for the 4th, Shadow Milk cookie. For the 5th, Dark Enchantress Cookie.

The list in the middle reads:

(20)25 improvement items:

improvement on kingdom production

island decorations

mine(?)

Champions League

More guild content

MyCookie Battle

(they explained some stuff for SMC but I couldn't understand well...)

There will also be this thing. It says "Island decorating" on the top.

Translation: Let me randomly decorate islands with various vegetation. It's small but it's my own precious space. Let's go to (my) friend's island.

I think that's all the major things! There were SO MANY small but promising improvements that I couldn't add, I'm sorry! The small things that I can recall were better rewards, new improvements in arena, guild, and kingdom(+ etc.), and also better chances for rarer characters(ancients, beasts, etc.).

Please let me know if I missed anything! I'll be happy to add more.

Livestream link here:

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. PLAYLIST

༉‧₊˚. episode 04: lonely star

preview: ". . .He knows a part of him is right, what he said wasn’t wrong. Perhaps, he could’ve said it in a different way—whenever he remembers the dejected expression across your features, the attempt at covering up the hurt behind your eyes by pulling away from him as though he was fire—his heart sits heavy.

And then the two of you didn’t talk again. He didn’t bother to try to text you, and you would never text him first."

content warning: cursing, hanma owns a strip club, oral s.ex, unprotected s.ex, choking, hair pulling, no aftercare.

word count: 7k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @mitsuwuyaa @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa @bejeweled-night-33

➜ MASTERLIST

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

Tokyo was a bustling city. People escape from the mundane using any source of entertainment allowed. From going shopping to partying, the city provides numerous remedies for any challenging moment a person might experience. There, in the depths and labyrinth streets of Tokyo and its lively nightlife, exists a world that only unravels to those who dare seek it. Hidden between tall buildings and colorful signs, paradise on earth stands proudly.

A black car pulls up in the alleyway, parking right outside the back entrance of a disheveled looking building. The door opens and cigarette hits the dirty floor. A foot crashes the bud, adorned in squeaky clean shoes that do not fit the vibe of the creepy alleyway. Golden Glow reads in bright neon light right above the back door. The man’s slender fingers push the wooden door open, stepping into a vibrating world of sensuality and allure where reality and fantasy blur for hours on end at night.

The air is thick with perfume and anticipation, a line of rich men of all backgrounds sitting on the deep red plush seating facing the focal point of the strip club. Murmurs of who will be performing next fill the room and the tall man makes his way towards the VIP table.

“You’re late.” Kisaki doesn’t pull his eyes away from the curtains waiting to unravel tonight’s star, more or less used to this kind of behavior from his right hand.

“I had to take care of something.” Announces Hanma as he pulls his seat back and grabs a cigarette. The relationship he had with smoking was more of a toxic affair—a continuous tag of war between depending on the small bud and desiring a whiff of the substance when things get a bit too hectic. With each inhale, he feels a momentary release from existing. He’s never enjoyed it, not fully at least. Existing meant he had to abide by rules, which he never did. Breakups were nasty, women lashing out insults towards the man they called a God only a few nights prior—they should’ve known better, is what he tells them every time. He never claimed to be a good person, just a good—no, an amazing fuck.

Hanma’s dick serves as a distraction from his violent nature, he momentarily hypnotizes those women with each sharp and angled thrust from his hips. Deliciously dragging out moans, whines and profanities, proclaims of how godly he feels and how they’ve never had better. He is good at using and not giving much in return, he shows it through prioritizing his orgasm, only speaking when the dirty talk tips him over the edge. Shuji doesn’t budge as a pillow is thrown his way, ‘asshole!’ sounds from behind the door he’s just closed and he swears he could feels his fingers twitch. He’ll spare the cleaning staff of the hotel a blood bath tonight.

“You took too long,” Nahoya adds his two cents as usual, and the tall man wonders what the orange haired even provides for him to remain alive and attending special nights like these.

“It’s your club, you’re supposed to get here first.” Kisaki presses and the lights dim as the curtains open, revealing tonight’s a woman clad in a gorgeous set of deep red lingerie. She commands attention with the way her body carries her across the stage, each step is like a soft whisper, beckoning more people to look at her—admire her. She embraces the power she holds over the spectators, feeling a surge of dopamine push her to do better.

“You’re not my fucking dad. I’ll get here when I want to.” His fingers tremble as he drags the cigarette away from his lips, resting his wrist on the table as his whole hand shakes. You would think that years of smoking would get the man used to the motion, familiarized with the aftermath of each whiff—somehow, it doesn’t. Through furrowed eyebrows and behind framed glasses, Kisaki notes the unusual behavior from the man. He is far too moody, perhaps more than usual. Hanma took pleasure into killing, coming back from missions was almost as euphoric as an orgasm after being denied for so long. As far as his report went, the mission was done and Toman’s men were able to discard of the dead body rather easily. So what was wrong?

The younger man doesn’t say anything, he waits until the show wraps up and for people’s attention to drift elsewhere to speak to the taller man. As Hanma, not so quietly, slips away from the table and onto one of the VIP rooms upstairs, Kisaki soon joins him.

“So, wanna talk about what’s up your ass lately?”

“What do you mean?” Hanma’s voice is devoid of any emotion, but he still looks unimpressed as he casts half a glare towards Kisaki.

“You know what I mean. Something’s up your ass, you need to fucking pull it out and do your job. I don’t need a moody bitch as my first in command.”

Hanma’s heard worse over the years, he knows what it meant to be involved with someone as nasty and as disgusting as Kisaki. However, he was having a bad week and Kisaki came to him at the wrong moment.

“This moody bitch will blow holes into your brain and make it seem like it was a pathetic attempt to kill yourself. Don’t fuck with me.” The tension rises between the two men, silence engulfs the room that’s hidden to the rest of the audience. They’ve had to fight before, the scars littering Hanma’s arms a reminder of Kisaki’s knife slashing the man’s skin. The shorter man’s own scarred hands a grim testament to what Shuji was capable of doing. The two of them don’t speak another word.

Kisaki sits on one of the soft chairs facing Hanma, placing his gun on the tiny glass table. The other man does the same, and it feels like a silent agreement that neither of them was going to harm the other.

“I went to her place.” There’s no question about who he is referring to. Kisaki knows all too well who you are. He’s seen you from afar when you were all young, unknowingly grasping the heart of a delinquent who’s never known what the feelings he had for you even meant. His face twitches as he remembers the conversation he had with the man a couple of weeks ago.

“You found her?”

“She’s back in Shinjuku.” Kisaki doesn’t miss the way Chifuyu’s body tenses up when the two men mention your name. He’s managed to keep you away from this mess for years now, his plan was coming crashing down from a single interaction with Hanma Shuji. Like domino pieces lined up, the tattooed man blows on them and watches them tumble just for fun. He was after you just for fun, Chifuyu fears.

“And? What do you wanna do now?” Kisaki’s busy rummaging through papers in his drawers, he doesn’t lift his gaze as he continues. “Do you want the men to take her away or?”

Sensing his silence, Tetta raises his eyes and notices the deadly look on Hanma’s face. Had it not been Kisaki, a man who’s known him for years and was desensitized to his glares, he would’ve most likely fallen from his chair. His eyes became storm clouds, hiding their usual golden color and crackling with the threat of lightning. Hanma’s never cast him a look similar to this before, usually blessed with an emotionless face.

“No. I don’t want any of them near her.”

Kisaki leans back against his seat. He’s seen Hanma get riled up over things like missions going wrong, people pissing him off, testing his patience—this was a different kind of negative emotion he was displaying. Dare Kisaki say that it was fun to witness? Perhaps even unexpected from the tall man? But he doesn’t say a thing, only gives a curt nod and proceeds to finish the task at hand.

“Why is that?” he asks, curious to know what lead the man to end up in your place.

He glances towards his fingers which had long ago healed, he could still feel your fingertips against his skin, warm breath fanning over his wrist as you tended to his wounds with so much care, as though you were stitching a tiny tear in a delicate fabric.

“She cleaned me up.” Kisaki has to blink a couple of times, but he notices how Shuji keeps his gaze fixated on his fingers. He chews on his bottom lip out of habit. The band aid wrapped around them is unfamiliar, the man’s never taken care of himself this way—oddly enough, Kisaki feels that Hanma had a strange attachment to the adhesive strip keeping his healed cuts safe. It has been days since that incident, he most definitely did not need to cover his hands that way.

“Cleaned you up?” Kisaki pours himself and the other man a glass of whisky, pushing one of the glasses towards Hanma.

“Saw my hands and thought that I was in pain.” The taller man mumbles as he brings the glass of whisky up to his swollen lips. Downing the liquid like rapid fire, he slams the glass on the table and leans in his chair, head thrown back as he grunts.

“I think I fucked up.” Hanma admits, his hand covering his eyes. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you or your touch since that night. So soft, offering him what he has deprived himself of for years—you were so gentle with his hands, treating him as though he was made of glass. Your beautiful eyes witnessed the harm he is capable of causing to others, yet your soul set that aside to make sure he was okay.

Only for him to mess it up.

He knows a part of him is right, what he said wasn’t wrong. Perhaps, he could’ve said it in a different way—whenever he remembers the dejected expression across your features, the attempt at covering up the hurt behind your eyes by pulling away from him as though he was fire—his heart sits heavy.

And then the two of you didn’t talk again. He didn’t bother to try to text you, and you would never text him first.

He was growing impatient with each passing second. He wasn’t an expert at solving this kind of problems, let alone when it involved him in the equation. However, one thing was for certain; his insatiable need to feel you again made every moment apart from you feel like he’s been cursed with damnation.

--

October comes to an end, you start to accept the atmosphere of loneliness that settles like a heavy cloak over the landscape. The days grow shorter and the nights longer, there are Halloween decorations displayed along the entrance of every apartment door. It’s adorable. Pumpkins, bats, and your most favorite—cats are all over the fronts of every store. You look up and find paper lanterns with spooky designs, themed displays in shopping malls, and themed merchandise in stores. You find yourself yearning for the celebration to linger a bit longer.

As the days turn into weeks, Hanma’s absence becomes palpable. You cannot ignore that the lack of his pestering feels strange and foreign, when you had only started speaking to the man again for a couple of days only. Like a shadow retreating to darkness, it feels like he never existed in your life. You’re back to living life the same way that you did before he suddenly reappeared in your life—you don’t know why you’re disappointed. After witnessing murder with your two eyes, you thought that Shuji would scare you. He should. Such an unpredictable man with a history of violence that remains unknown to you should instill a deep fear in you. Then why do you find yourself craving the presence of a man whose ruthlessness carves a path of destruction? A man whose words made it feel like walking through a field of thorns?

You pay your feelings no mind as you drown yourself in chores, making sure there was no speck of dust left on each furniture of your apartment. A shower soothes your nerves afterwards, the motion of scrubbing the dirt off of your skin a subliminal attempt at getting Hanma’s aura off of you. You make yourself a cup of hot chocolate, top it off with some marshmallows as you settle on the comfortable couch with a soft yet heavy blanket draped over your shoulders. The movie you picked for the night is nowhere near comforting, but you brush it off for the sake of Halloween vibes.

However, those feelings melt away as soon as ears pick up on the sound of footsteps near your door. It was pretty late for anyone to be visiting you, let alone on Halloween night. You set your hot chocolate down and walk towards the door in quiet footsteps, praying that you don’t make a noise by accidentally breathing too hard.

Behind the door, Hanma stands looking almost apologetic. His head hangs low not out of shame, but because he sees your shadow from under the door. He holds back a chuckle.

 “It’s me.”

When he hears no reply, he pushes himself off of the wall and walks away from the door. An uncomfortable feeling gnawed at his chest, but he refuses to acknowledge any of it as his hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He lets one dangle between his lips as he reaches for the lighter. Until he hears the creaking sound echoing in the hallway.

Glancing back, he sees that your door was no longer closed, but he couldn’t see you either. His feet slowly drag him towards your doorstep once again and the moment he attempts to peek inside, your face pops from behind the door. The both of you pull away at the same time, you almost close the door in his face but his foot stops it before you could close it shut.

“I had to hide my cat. He likes to escape when I open the door.” You announce with a tone that appears to be protective, very used to your fur companion’s habits. Hanma nods, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. It wasn’t until you break eye contact that he realizes he’s been staring at you without uttering a single word.

“Are you alone?” He can see inside your apartment, he towers over you with so much ease. You shift your weight from one foot to another, eyes avoiding his as you stare back at the TV screen and the obviously empty living room.

“Yeah,” you pause, glancing back towards him. “Why?”

“I was thinking you could—“ he wiggles his fingers. “See if they’re okay.” You stare down at the band aids wrapped sloppily around the skin and have to fight back the urge to smile. “I tried to do it myself but I don’t think I did as much of a good job as you did,” which was true and very apparent.

You take a moment to consider your options, chewing on your bottom lip as you fixate your stare on his hands. It was relatively late at night, you were wearing a light sleep dress—this could either go right or horribly wrong. For now, you don’t mind taking the risk.

Pushing the door wide, you see the way his eyes glimmer as they scan your entire body from head to toe. He doesn’t hide that he is checking you out, even as he steps inside your place, he chooses to stare at you instead of scanning his surroundings like last time. You refuse to crumble under his gaze nor change what you were wearing, you close the door and make your way to the kitchen without uttering a single word.

Hanma suddenly thinks of something and he bites back the urge to smirk as he makes his way towards the kitchen as well. This is the farthest he’s been in your place, your kitchen is rather small compared to the one he has in his apartment, but he appreciates how full it is. From the fruit sitting on the counter, the coffee machine, the magazines, the small board where you have what looks like a to-do list written there—it feels homey. It feels like you.

You glance behind you, noticing the pair of shoes in your kitchen and don’t bother to look back, but you feel a tad bit annoyed.

“No shoes in my house,” no response. Surely, he wasn’t going to ignore you when you were about to take care of him.

“I said—“ your stomach flutters and your breath catches when you feel something land on your shoulder, hot breath fanning the tiny bit of skin exposed from your sleep dress falling to the side. You hold your breath for what feels like an eternity, body frozen in place.

“No shoes in the house?” his deep voice sends chills down your spine, his hands resting against the fridge instead of gripping your hips.

His fingers twitch when the smell of sweet vanilla and coconut hits his nostrils, your scent is intoxicating and he struggles with himself. Every instinct urges him to break free and surrender to the intoxicating allure, yet the tether of restraint holds Hanma firmly and keeps his impulse in check. He doesn’t want to upset you again, but he thoroughly enjoys seeing you like this. So flustered.

As he pulls away from you, you turn to face him and use the first aid kit to put space between the two of you, like a shield. If you were trying to appear intimidating with the scowl on your face, Hanma’s smirk tells you that you were failing miserably.

“What the hell is your problem?” you don’t even sound mad, just completely and utterly embarrassed. You were fighting a war between your brain and your needs—the warmth of his body lingered on your skin for far too long, and although his breath reeked of cigarette and something minty, it made you feel dizzy.

“You’re red in the face, doll.” He purrs, making his way towards the couch. This time, you were certainly not going to get down to your knees and treat his cuts. Not after the stunt he pulled.

“Shut up.” You groan, sitting on the couch.

“You’re like, totally vermillion in the face—“

“I will kill you!”

He snorts and comfortably settles on the couch right beside you. One glance at his hands and you can tell that it really isn’t that serious. You bring his hands close to your face, inspecting them as soon as you take off the adhesive strips. There are a few faint scars, but they’re all healed and he only needs to apply ointment to them for extra measure. You put them back in his lap for a few seconds, leaning forward to grab the ointment you placed on the small coffee table in front of the both of you. You don’t realize that you had both gone awfully quiet after that moment, for a few seconds you almost forget what his touch felt like until you feel a pair of eyes burning holes in your face.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” you blurt out, never meeting his eyes. You want to appear unbothered by all of this, by his intense way of giving you attention. But god knows how loudly your heart was thumping in your chest.

“Would you let me do it?” oh my god.

You don’t respond, you want to focus on the task at hand and step away from him as quickly as you can. The longer you felt him near you, the harder it was to contain yourself from matching his energy, his flirtatious comments. You were supposed to be mad at him, why did you cave into his request of having his minor cuts treated once again when the man ruined your mood the other night?

“No, I wouldn’t.” You say firmly, although your touch against his skin is very soft. Hanma can tell that you’re fighting an inner battle, you’re not good at hiding it. Your furrowed eyebrows make his own skin burn, his thumb craves to smoothen the skin of your forehead, get you to relax that jaw and melt against him the same way he does when the tip of your finger grazes his skin. He snaps out of his thoughts when he sees that you were already putting everything back in the white box, golden eyes staring between your hands and face.

“We’re done?”

“Yeah, you should be fine now.” You get up and head back to the kitchen, leaving Hanma alone with his thoughts once again. He notices that the movie you were watching was paused only 20 minutes in and the hot chocolate sitting on your coffee table was starting to go cold. It seems as though your night was just getting started and him showing up put it on hold.

However, Hanma doesn’t want to leave just yet. He can’t put his finger on why he feels the need to stay, perhaps the idea of going back into his car, driving to his empty place made him feel a little bit sick to his stomach. It was an unspoken rule for Hanma to never visit his place unless he really needed something. Clothes, money—he always packed those in a bag and left it in his car. His place—located in the heart of the city's shadows, is nestled within a towering skyscraper, its imposing structure casting long, foreboding shadows over the streets below. Whenever Shuji inserts the key card, he is greeted by an atmosphere steeped in mystery and menace. Dark, rich tones dominate the décor. Nothing about the 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms apartment made it feel homey. So Hanma avoided it like the plague.

He thinks he can find an excuse to stay a little longer with you. Should he take you out? He can’t. You were far too comfortable in your sleep dress to change into something else. The movie seemed interesting, perhaps a few sweet words would convince you to let him stay a little longer before he has to depart—

“Have you had dinner yet?” You break his chain of thoughts so easily, Hanma is a little taken aback at first. Glancing back towards you, he sees you holding two white ceramic plates in one hand. The pot, which he assumed had warm, homemade food in it, is sitting on the stove with a ladle inside. Were you offering him a meal?

“Not yet,”

“I figured you skip meals,” you say with a frown. You forget the grudge you’re supposed to hold against him, it nestles itself somewhere in the back of your head the moment you see Hanma lost in his thoughts. You glance at his face—not as full as it was when the two of you were kids. He’s never had chubby cheeks, but you could tell when the man had a good meal and when he hadn’t eaten properly in a while. You naturally find yourself reheating the food you made for yourself, grateful you decided to cook more than a singular portion.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” he clarifies, as though he needs you to understand where he is coming from but then his lips are sealed shut. He’s never had to explain himself to anyone, it’s a little foreign for him to be doing it with you.

“You forget?” you guess, your back facing him as you serve him a good portion of the katsu curry you’ve made. You make sure to give him a bigger portion than yours, assuming that the man has probably skipped lunch as well.

“Mhm.” With the way he engulfed you in his arms previously, you shouldn’t trust him so blindly and have your back facing him again. But you don’t seem to care as much, maybe even wishing he does it again. Instead, you hear a chair creak from behind you and see that the man has made himself comfortable in your kitchen. You hand him his food before sitting across from him, then the two of you dig into the food.

Hanma hasn’t tasted something this good in—14 years. Ever since his mother stopped cooking him a decent meal. You made a dish that’s such a delightful harmony of textures and flavors, engulfing him with a warm velvety blanket he would never throw over his own shoulders. He glances towards you and you’re focused on your food—at least, you look like you’re trying to focus. He sees that some habits never really left you. You ate fast, way too fast, never truly savored your food. You still had a habit of bringing the food close to your nose and inhaling the scent (he never understood why you did it). He can remember the last time you tried to smell something he was about to eat—a sandwich he had bought that had a weird mixture of ingredients, you leaned down to inhale its scent and Shuji swears he hasn’t laughed as hard ever since. The face you made was of pure disgust, pushing the bread back into his hands and away from you. You’ve always had such an expressive face—either that, or Shuji stares at you a bit too much.

The present situation mirrors your date at the ramen shop in sad ways. It is obvious that the two of you have grown apart, no longer needing to be so close to one another at any given moment. The person who sits across of Shuji Hanma is someone he recognizes but doesn’t fully know—he recognizes certain habits that even time couldn’t tear away from you. But your touch, your body and soul feel different. On them lingers this love and care you still held for the man along the years, but never to a full extent. It seemed as though even whilst with him, you were thinking of something else—somebody else. He could be mistaken and you’re just trying to push him away, but Hanma’s gut feeling never betrayed him.

His stomach twists in knots when he sees you reach for the jewelry adorning your neck—a necklace with a golden heart pendent. You hold onto it with so much care, cautious not to break the fragile accessory.

He is reading too much into it.

He pulls his eyes away from you once he’s done with his curry, polite enough to put his plate in the sink and wash it off for you. You stare at his large back in silence, contemplating your next words.

“Tonight’s Halloween.”

Hanma turns to look at you, his raised eyebrow an indication that he didn’t know where you were going with this.

“Yeah? You got a costume you want to show me?” he teases, bracing himself against your kitchen counter. You have to pull your eyes away from his hands and arms, ignoring the way your pussy throbs at how large he looks in your tiny kitchen. You realize what he says and make an offended face, standing up with your own plate and utensils and walking towards the sink.

“Over my dead body.” You nudge his side with your elbow, he moves away from the sink but still stands next to you.

“Okay then?” he questions as you turn on the water.

“You could stay and watch the movie.” You offer without looking at him. You were scared that your face would betray you, you almost slipped and said ‘with me’ and that would give him the upper hand, another thing to tease you about.

“Like a date night?” you halt your movements, quickly turning off the faucet and turning to stare at him. Your breath hitches when you see his face so close to yours. He isn’t trying to intimidate you, the playful glint in his eyes give away his true intentions. However, you can’t deny that having him so close to you was starting to be challenging for your self-control.

“I… I don’t know.” your voice is barely above a whisper. You try to build a wall between the two of you, put some distance, but it’s useless. Hanma stares at you with golden orbs that mimic lanterns lit up in the night, evoking a sense of nostalgia that felt so strange to you—

Up until now, Hanma was a mere teenage crush you had parted ways with on less-than-great terms. There wasn’t a single time during those twelve years where your heart yearned for the man, remembered the way he would make your stomach leap and be like a light at the end of the tunnel—why let such silly feelings resurface so unexpectedly? You could blame it on your celibacy, not having been out on a proper date for a couple of months now—but even as you look at it, you haven’t been this interested in anyone for a while.

What was Hanma Shuji doing to you? What was so different about him? Could it be that the man’s touch messed you up?

He steps closer to you, tall figure looming over your smaller frame in an attempt at caging you between him and the sink. He’s got a million things to say and yet, his lips remain frozen. Yearning to feel the warmth of your own softer, plushier ones. As you confess shakily, although your hands far too comfortable holding onto his shirt for it to sound convincing, he chuckles and you smell his minty breath.

Everything about him looks…inviting. You cannot look away from his neck, or his jaw or his lips. You’re lost in a trance, on this terrifying journey where you wish to be able to hear something other than your own heartbeat. Deafening, muting the world around you for a split second as Hanma leans down and captures your lips in a fiery kiss.

It’s different than the one shared at the ramen shop—there was no waiting, no longing for your touch for twelve long years. You were at hand reach, so close to him like a dream. Hanma needed you like the moon needs the stars, promised himself to tattoo the feeling of your lips against his for years to come—they fit perfectly against his, like a mold made specifically for his body. It’s surreal. The initial kiss is short, gently easing you into the sea of his passionate and intense loving, because when his lips reattach to yours, you’re being pinned to the wall.

His hands grab your face, they hold you in place like he’s been craving to breathe again for an eternity. You can smell him, feel him on you everywhere even with layers of clothes stuck to your skin, set ablaze like a furnace. His electrifying touch leave goosebumps in their wake, trailing from your cheek down to the back of your neck. There, his hand grips your nape before his fingers dig into your scalp.

When you gasp at his touch, Hanma’s heart leaps. Like a ticking bomb, it was only a matter of time before he unleashed a side of him he wasn’t sure he wanted to offer so early on. You’re such a tease, he thinks. Why were you giving him those eyes as he pulls away from the kiss? Why are you biting your already swollen lips if you didn’t want him to bury himself so deep inside you?

“Ask me to leave.” He says, voice firm as he tries to catch his breath.

“Shuji—“ you go for his face but he grabs your wrist mid-air.

“Ask me to leave, doll.”

“No.”

“This is your chance,” he leans down, close to your face and brushes his lips against yours. “—won’t stop if I start.”

“If I touch this,” his hand gropes your boob over your dress. “If I kiss this,” he yanks your head back, brushing his lips against your throat. “I promise you. I won’t be able to stop.”

At this point, you’re more than fed up with his teasing and crash your lips against his. You push yourself off the wall as get on your tiptoes to reach for his lips, and he decides to end your struggle and picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You kiss him harder, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip as he marches towards your room.

“Didn’t take you for a biter,” his words are muffled against the skin of your neck as he kisses there. You throw your head back, allowing him more room to work with and you feel your back hitting the familiar soft mattress. The bed was made, but the blankets are quickly discarded to the floor as Hanma’s mess of limbs loom over your figure and plant hungry kisses on the skin that’s showing.

Thanks to your choice in outfit, Hanma finds it easy to strip you naked. Skilled fingers undo your bra to reveal your breasts in full display, but his hands are busy groping at your mound. You gasp at how rough he is handling your body, but the wet patch forming in your underwear indicated just how much you’ve been craving this kind of attention. His lips attach to your hardened nipple, whilst his left hand twists and fiddles with the other one. It feels like he is attempting to nurse on you with how hard he sucks, golden eyes staring deeply at your fucked out face. Messy hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, and your eyes barely able to stay open as he gives your erogenous zones the right amount of attention.

“Mmm you’re so soft,” he teases the nipple with his teeth and chuckles when he feels you try to squeeze your thighs together from under him.

“Shuji,” you breathe out, as soft as a silken thread.

Pulling away from your breasts, he admires the hickeys he’s painted across your skin—branding you as his on your very first night together. Sure, he’s done this before but never this passionately. He wants those bruises to never go away, glued to your skin like a tattoo and a constant reminder that this is what being his meant. He attaches his lips to your skin again, this time on your torso—he travels down to your stomach, passes your belly button before kissing right above your panties. He notices how drenched they are and hisses.

“Fuck, you’re fucking dripping.” He says as he moves them to the side and his mouth falls open, drool threatening to spill. “All for me, doll?” his thumb teases at your engorged clit and you whimper.

“Don’t tease, fuck—!”

You react almost immediately as he attaches his lips to your clit. Your legs try to close around his head but he is having none of it as he grips your thighs and forces them open, continuing his assault on your pussy.

“Shit, shit!” you gasp as he lays his tongue flat against the bud before moving his head from side to side while watching intently as you writhed and twitched under his touch. There was no way you could escape his mouth, tongue moving down to lap at your folds while his fingers pinched your clit. Hanma craves to exist between your thighs for the rest of eternity, a place so warm and so wet, offering him the best of both worlds.

He pushes two fingers past your folds, grinning from ear to ear when he sees the way your body tenses up. Curling them upwards, the combination of his rough finger fucking and his mouth’s continuous assault on your clit makes you cum hard. You’re writhing, crying desperately for the man’s head to leave your thighs. Soft “I can’t—I can’t!” resonate through the room, but soon die down when he spares your pussy and instead, litters soft kisses over the inner of your thighs.

“You did so well, took me like a champ,” it seems as though the only time Hanma shows any emotion beside boredom, is when he has you under his mercy like this. It’s when he makes you blush, flustered, angry or in this case, cum so hard that you have to take a moment to remember your name—that’s when he feels alive, as though life is worth living again.

Your heart thumps loudly when you hear him fumble with his belt. A sound that makes your ears perk up, eager with anticipation. You push yourself up with your elbows, licking your lips when you see the obvious bulge in his pants. It makes your mouth water, and your hand reaches down to palm him through his pants. A rough hand grabs your wrist, you look up at the man hovering over you with lustful eyes. You stare at him through your lashes, neither of you uttering a single word—he is telling you not to touch, not right now, and you are craving his body like earth needs the sun.

You squeeze the bulge, lips parting when he closes his eyes and leans down towards you. You hear a soft groan emitting from the back of his throat, and it’s your sign to do it again and even go further. Hanma puts a halt to your attempt with a rough kiss against your lips, pushing you back against the soft mattress until you are whining against his lips.

“Oh what is it?” he says, almost mocking your sounds. “Do you need something?”

“Shuji—“ you are way too embarrassed by how he is speaking to you, staring to the side. But he doesn’t seem to mind your bashfulness, rather indulging it by kissing your cheek and then your pulse. The kiss on the cheek is a stark contrast to how roughly he finger fucked you, and when he finally releases his cock and you see the way it jumps—your stomach twists in knots.

That thing will reach spots your own fingers haven’t been able to.

You panic when he starts to tease your folds, hands pushing at his shoulders to remind him to use protection. You did not want to have a kid running around anytime soon.

“I’m clean,” he says and a part of you can’t help but not fully trust him. He sees the expression on your face and chuckles, leaning down to kiss your neck as you melt back on the mattress.

“I get tested frequently.”

“I’m not on the pill—“

“Don’t worry, I can’t get you pregnant.”

You don’t have time to question what that could possibly mean, lips forming an ‘O’. You are forced to lay back and take it as Hanma’s cock keeps going deeper and deeper—you feel full of him. A sob erupts from your chest as you feel him pull his hips back and then—thrust.

He repeats the motion a few times, piercing eyes scanning your face like a hawk. He wants to memorize your body like the back of his hand, wants to tattoo the feeling of your warm and soft cunt at the forefront of his mind—you are so soft and pliable, making sweet noises that he easily swallows by kissing you deeply.

“Fuck you’re so sweet,”

You moan into his mouth when he angles his hips a certain way, Hanma grins victoriously against your lips and uses his hands to grab the back of your knees. Pushing them to your chest, he enjoys the sight of you taking his cock like a sweet girl. You’re so cock hungry, practically begging him to fuck you silly with those glossy eyes staring deeply into his.

“Yeah? You like that?” he purrs, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. He removes one of his hands from the back of your knee and wraps it around your neck in a possessive grip, watching as the early signs of your orgasm start to creep in on you like a shadow in the dusk.

“Such a nasty fucking girl—“ filth continues to spew out of his mouth at the same rate as your loud whines. Your eyes can barely stay open as he quickens his pace, jaw going slack when his thumb brushes over your sensitive bundle of nerves. He shamelessly leans back to stare at your pussy as he continues to fuck it, watching as his cock slides in and out of you. The room is filled with wet noises, the sound of skin slapping against each other reaching Hanma’s ears as he takes in the sight before him.

You were so pliant beneath him, no longer putting up walls in his presence. He loved it. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock keeps nudging at that one spot that makes you dizzy. Your hand wraps around his wrist as he continues to pin you to the mattress by the neck, you stare up at him with glossy eyes, thighs twitching and your back arching off as you finally cum.

Hanma swears he has never seen something as magical. You feel like a magnetic force, pulling him closer with an irresistible allure that ignites a fire in his stomach and sets his senses ablaze. It tips him over the edge, he empties himself inside you with a loud groan as he lets go of your neck and holds onto your boobs as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

Now what? It’s not like he’s never had sex before, he was in fact very good at it—but usually, he gets up and leaves the moment he empties his balls inside. Now, he worries that you would get the wrong idea, that you’d think he’s using you—does he want to use you?

Isn’t this what he wanted all along? To fuck you senseless the moment he saw you run towards the metro station in your tight skirt. His mind was reeling with all the possibilities of what could be underneath the fabric—perhaps a matching set, or if you wanted to be a tease, nothing.

He starts to wonder what his intentions were with you—he wanted to be your friend without getting too close to you. He couldn’t afford having you near him at all times, that came with a cost he wasn’t sure you could afford. In your arms, he didn’t feel as though he needed to prove anything to you—not his existence, nor his power. And for a man who lives his life in pure chaos, a house that didn’t have a mess isn’t one where he belongs.

His hands pull away from your body, his eyes scanning your face only to find that you were fast asleep. He could wake you up and tell you to go pee, but like a puppet, his own fears pulled on the strings as they desired—his feet carry him towards your door in speed record. Glancing one last time at the pot you left outside, he closes the door.

Even as he drives back to his place, Hanma can’t brush off the burning sensation sitting heavy on his chest.

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[atzupdates]

[240522] ATEEZ GOLDEN HOUR : Part.1 PREVIEW LIVE POSTER

🔴 PREVIEW LIVE

2024. 05. 30 6:30PM

ATEEZ YouTube & TikTok Channel

2024. 05. 31 1PM ALBUM RELEASE

[she-wu]

ateez ᯓᡣ𐭩 [golden hour : part 1] preview live

[atiny-for-life]

Golden Hour feels different and I think I know why...

This album feels a lot less cohesive than all others they've ever released. I'm by no means saying it's bad or you shouldn't enjoy it or support the comeback, but it's still something noteworthy.

They said they were really happy making this album, which is amazing and I'm glad they've been enjoying all the new opportunities they've been getting, but when I listen to most of these songs, I feel like we' we've been given a folder from the producer's computer with all the leftover/unfinished tracks, and I think I may know why that is.

First, I wanna say what I mean by the album being less cohesive: Ateez are big on concept albums. The songs tell a story, they're connected, both conceptiually and lyrically, even as we switch genres. Look to the Fever and World Series where you can track the themes even without knowing about their storyline.

Ateez are also famous for their cinematic songs - Inception, Answer, Guerrilla, Halazia - the instrumentals are layered, interwoven, it feels like you're on a journey as you listen to it. You start in one place and don't know where you're headed until you get there. They're full of unique instruments, random noises, hidden harmonies from Maddox and the vocal line. It's art.

And now move on to Blind, Work, Shaboom, and it's one beat in the back that switches up as we move along but there's nothing new to notice on repeat listens, nothing remarkable to pick out. Wooyoung summed it up as "easy listening" in their KStar Next Door interview. Lyrically, Work is also a lot more repetitive which is something Ateez historically stayed clear of because Mingi and Hongjoong especially are very invested in the writing process and want the songs to have meaning.

Proving my point, they mentioned during the Preview Live that Mingi and Hongjoong worked more on Empty Box and Siren, with Siren even being a contender for the title track and Empty Box being their collective favorite and, hey, look at that, those two are the only songs on the album which are a lot more complex on all fronts, a lot more similar to their usual approach to music.

Looking at the bigger picture, I absolutely don't think it was laziness which led to the slight drop in quality. I think KQ just has a pre-planned release schedule where everything is organized so they can squeeze in comeback promotions between tour schedules and, this time, they had to find a way to squeeze in Coachella, which is an opportunity you simply cannot turn down and they made a judgment call and decided to take preparation time away from the album.

Regardless of how Ateez felt about this, they worked their asses off, and while they're already in the US, they attend interviews, take extra classes, film the music video etc. and thus, weeks of album preparations are now spent on Coachella-related schedules. As a result, there ultimately just wasn't enough time to hole up in the studio as much as they normally would've which, as a performer, must be a whole lot more fun, but isn't so great when you're just a listener.

The Edenary team is still responsible for most of the songs, of course, but they're now also working for Xikers which is likely possible because Hongjoong now has years of experience under his belt and can compose full songs or add finishing touches himself whenever needed while also working on Xikers' music on occasion - we've seen him credited multiple times.

On top of that, they also used a live band at Coachella, meaning their songs had to be translated to acoustic which was most likely fully Edenary's doing and also took them away from preparing for this comeback.

These days, their albums aren't as pre-prepared anymore as they used to be a couple of years ago when we still got song teasers at the end of tracks several comebacks in advance. They've caught up by now, as we've been able to see in behind the scenes footage of Hongjoong in the studio and from his interview with Changkyun from Monsta X (I.M on the Beat) where he largely talked about working on The World - Ep Fin. which was clearly still fresh in his mind.

Normally, this wouldn't be a downside at all, but it does make scheduling conflicts like this something to be cautious about, especially looking back to how exhausted they (and most other K-pop artists) always are between December and February every single year when all the award shows come together.

Whether I'm right or not, I don't know and can't prove, but I think it makes a lotta sense and would explain some things. Either way, watching them perform Work is still fun and it's lovely to see them so happy and thriving, but I do think there'll be a noticable difference when the next album drops without any surprise schedules throwing things off course.

[dailykoreanpop]

[240530] ATEEZ's official twitter update:

[📷] [GOLDEN HOUR : Part.1] PREVIEW LIVE Behind Photo 에이티즈와 에이티니의 눈부시게 빛나는 '골든 아워'의 순간들, 곧 시작합니다🤭✨ #ATEEZ #에이티즈 #GOLDENHOUR #GOLDENHOUR_Part1 #WORK

Credit: ATEEZofficial

[wishcamper]

Chapter XXIV is live now! You can read it on ao3, preview after the cut.

The band finished the song and stepped off to take a break, and Mor disappeared for a moment before stumbling back toward their table laden with more drinks she set before them.

“Here, Cass.”

“I’m good.”

“You know you can have a little fun, you’re not going to get in trouble.”

He pushed the full cup and his empty one away, the smell of ale making his stomach roll. Mor huffed.

“Fine, more for us,” she said, leaning closer against Azriel.

“Thanks for your sacrifice,” Az grumbled. Mor laughed high and bright at that, and Cassian noticed shadows skittering into the corner.

He knew Azriel still struggled with his feelings for Mor, especially after the years they’d been stuck here while Rhys was Under the Mountain. Each of them had grabbed onto whatever they could to keep living, and love had borne his brother farther than anything else. It was a hard thing to let die, and when Mor draped a golden arm across his shoulders as she raised her glass, his panicked eyes darted toward the far wall.

“Well, cheers you fuckers. We survived another year.”

Az threw back his drink in one go before grabbing Cassian’s, a blush creeping up his neck. “Seems tame in comparison to the past few.”

“And now we spend all night in darkness and remembrance. Any sins either of you want to confess?” Mor’s smile was devilish when she glanced between them.

They’d developed the tradition on Solstice Eves during Rhys’ capture, confessing all the dark shit they’d done through the year to get by. A group attempt at absolution, no judgment, just to be witnessed.

“Too many to list,” Cassian said, trying to keep the edge of weariness out of his voice. The volume of chatter around them was making his head hurt. “Maybe let’s not.”

Mor rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a downer. I had sex out of wedlock, hmm.. Two hundred times?”

“Is that a sin now?” Azriel asked, and she looked at him sidelong, smile flashing once more.

“Why, wanna make it two hundred and one? We have a few hours left.”

[jeongyunho99]

Yunho ✧ GOLDEN HOUR : Part.1 PREVIEW LIVE

[zzoomacroom]

Fic: Golden Hour

Dreamling, One-Shot, Retired Dream, Mpreg, Fluff & Smut, 2300 words

Happy Dreamling Week! Here’s my fic for the Tuesday, June 4th prompts “painting” and “massage,” as well as the Saturday 8th prompt “sunrise/sunset.” Big thanks to the mods @mr-sadman for putting this event together! 💗💗💗

This is part of my Retired Dream Mpreg AU, Love Ain’t for Keeping. As of posting this fic, I’ve only posted the first chapter of “Rain Is Coming Down, but the Clouds Will Surely Pass”, but this one takes place in between chapters 4 and 5, so consider this a sneak preview.

If you haven’t read the other fics in this series, here’s what you need to know: Morpheus is about three years into his retirement, he and Hob are married, and they’re having a baby. Morpheus is six and a half months pregnant at this point, Hob has gained some weight, and they’re both insanely horny about each other. That’s pretty much it tbh.

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Summary: Morpheus paints Hob in the nude, then Hob fingers him and rubs his feet. That’s it, that’s the whole fic.

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics)

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional tags and fic below the cut:

Additional tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Fluff and Smut, Painting, Massage, Foot Massage, Retired Dream, Human Dream, Trans Dream, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Weight Gain, Chubby Hob, Bear Hob Appreciation, Body Image Issues, Married Dreamling, They love each other, they are unhinged for each other, smut, vaginal fingering, Dream has a vulva, praise kink

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“Stay still,” Morpheus murmurs, his brow furrowing as he glances back and forth between the canvas in front of him and his subject, who is sprawled nude on the sofa.

“Sorry,” Hob replies with a penitent smile. He ceases tapping his fingers on his thigh and relaxes back into the cushions, which have been draped with a velvety burgundy throw that complements the healthy tan of his skin.

Morpheus pauses his task of blending the perfect shade of dusky rose to match his husband’s nipples, setting down his palette and resting his hand on the protruding dome of his belly. There is a flurry of movement beneath his palm, accompanied by a now-familiar fluttering and tumbling sensation. The baby has been particularly lively today, and between that and standing in front of his easel for the last hour, Morpheus is growing weary. His neck is sore from hunching over the canvas, and his feet are swollen and achy, but the painting is almost finished.

It is the golden hour, just before sunset, and Morpheus is determined to finish this piece now, while the light is perfect. Bold rays of sunshine stream through the window of their sitting room above the New Inn, and Hob looks utterly resplendent swathed in the dazzling beams of gold and bronze. The light ignites sparks of copper in his beard and in the forest of dark hair on his chest and thighs. The sunlight adores Hob, kisses him reverently and renders him into something holy.

He is too exquisite to depict accurately, at least not with such insufficient means as oil on canvas. Were Morpheus still the King of Dreams, he would craft a dream of eternal love and beauty based on the vision before him, one that would inspire passion in dreamers and reduce even Desire to tears. Alas, Morpheus is only a man now, and this imperfect likeness will have to suffice.

He layers strokes of sienna and umber over planes of rosy flesh tones, accentuating the shadow of Hob’s belly where it swells above his heavy prick, which rests elegantly against his thick, furred thigh. Hob’s body has changed almost as much as Morpheus’ in the last few months; “sympathy weight,” as Matthew had said. While Morpheus is not altogether pleased with his own appearance at present, he was surprised to find himself feeling very enthusiastic about his husband’s new physique. His appreciation for Hob’s body is something base and carnal, something foreign and yet innate to this new human form—it seems he is hard-wired to crave warmth and softness, safety and shelter, and Hob offers all of those things, freely and in abundance.

Hob has always been a handsome man; Morpheus acknowledges that he has been attracted to him since 1789, at least. The first time they made love, Morpheus had delighted in his strong, solid build and the lush hair that blankets most of his body. He had been mildly surprised, however, to see that Hob was so spare—not as slight as Morpheus, but lean and wiry, with an alluringly trim waist. Now, though...Hob has filled out considerably, and Morpheus...likes it. Very much. He does, of course, love and desire his husband regardless of any trivial physical changes, but he can admit that he has. A preference. For this “dad bod,” as Hob so aptly calls it.

Morpheus continues to paint, hastily peppering in dots of vermilion and amber in an attempt to capture the brilliant blaze of the dying sun as it bedecks his lover in its radiance. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, stretches his neck and shoulders, and he sees that Hob is watching him intently while he works, tracking each subtle motion with a flick of his eyes.

“Time for a break, do you think? Starting to get a bit restless here, love,” Hob says with a soft chuckle.

Morpheus is grateful that Hob did not insinuate that he is the one who needs a break, even though he undoubtedly sees how tired Morpheus is. He knows that this is...something he must work on. But it does not come easily to him, admitting that he has. Vulnerabilities. Weaknesses. Human needs. It is difficult for Morpheus to...allow himself to be taken care of. To be loved. But Hob wants only to love and care for him, and he is exceptionally skilled at both. Morpheus is. Learning. To accept this. To accept his own humanity, for all the struggles and joys that it holds.

“I am almost finished,” Morpheus replies, frowning at the canvas. “Five more minutes.”

“Alright, but I’m holding you to it,” Hob smiles. “Can’t believe you still want to paint me, now that I’ve let myself go.”

Morpheus rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. This conversation again. “Beloved, how many times must I tell you that you are more beautiful than ever? I wish you would not speak ill of yourself.”

“You know,” Hob says loftily, with a raise of his eyebrow, “I could point out that we could go tit for tat on that matter. But I’ll be the bigger man—literally and figuratively, in this case—and say that you’re right, darling. And I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

Morpheus smiles and huffs fondly, shaking his head as he returns to his work. It is nearly complete—he only needs to fix this swirl of chest hair, that charming streak of silver that runs from his sideburn to his beard and gleams in the rapidly fading sunlight. If Hob will not take his words to heart, then Morpheus must show him, through the painting, how magnificent he is. How splendid, how adored.

“It is done,” Morpheus announces almost precisely five minutes later.

Hob’s face instantly lights up as he leaps from the sofa and strides over to Morpheus. Hob is always so fascinated by Morpheus’ art, so enthusiastic and supportive of all of his endeavors. Even when he does not see the beauty of the work’s subject.

Hob stands beside Morpheus and gazes at the painting with the same look of wonder and reverence that he always has when seeing one of his works for the first time. He looks even more affected by this one, and his voice wobbles when he speaks. “It’s gorgeous, dove. I...I can’t believe this is really how you see me.”

“It is. Not quite what I see when I look at you,” Morpheus replies, rubbing his sore neck and stifling a wince. “Your beauty is too great to be expressed through such a mundane medium. But. I suppose...this does come close.”

“Y’know, it never stops being weird, hearing that from the most gorgeous being in the universe. But as always, I’ll take your word for it, darling.” Hob moves to stand behind him and begins massaging his neck and shoulders, kneading out the tension and leaving behind gentle kisses in its place. It’s so good that Morpheus could cry—the way Hob touches him, like he infuses every caress with all of his love and devotion, is...divine. Morpheus has met gods, has known ecstasy that would shatter mortal minds, and yet nothing compares to the simple bliss of his husband’s touch.

Hob comes closer, pressing himself to Morpheus’ back and hooking his chin over his shoulder. He wraps his arms around Morpheus’ middle, cradling his belly and stroking gently. Morpheus leans his head back against Hob’s shoulder and lets his eyes fall closed. He is nude as well (clothing has become a nuisance at this stage of his pregnancy), and he revels in the warmth of Hob’s skin against his own, the soft cushion of his belly and the pleasant scratch of chest hair against his bare back.

Hob’s hands begin to explore lower, probing between Morpheus’ legs and running a teasing finger down his slit, eliciting a sharp inhale from Morpheus. He spreads open the folds of his cunt and circles his thumb around his clit, humming approvingly all the while.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re so wet,” Hob whispers into Morpheus’ neck. “Is this just from staring at me for the last hour?”

Morpheus has a snappy comeback to that, but it vanishes from his mind and dies on his lips as Hob dips two fingers inside his slick entrance and presses his thumb to his clit. Morpheus moans and grinds backwards against him, wanting his lover as close as possible. He feels a twitch of interest where Hob’s cock rubs against the cleft of his arse, but he is still soft; they had just finished making love for the second time today when Morpheus had dragged Hob to the sitting room to finish his painting. No matter. Morpheus can be patient, especially when Hob is working a third finger inside him, kissing his jaw and whispering sweet praise and debauched filth in his ear.

Hob’s fingers move faster, stroking his g-spot and clit simultaneously, and the wet, squelching noise it makes is absolutely obscene. “You look so beautiful like this. Can you come for me, love?” Morpheus’ head falls back against Hob’s shoulder as he reaches his peak with a shuddering whine. “That’s it, darling. Oh, you’re doing so well. So perfect,” Hob croons. Morpheus sobs and comes again at the praise, and Hob coaxes him through it, soothing and petting his belly with his free hand. He slowly pulls his fingers free from the clenching grasp of Morpheus’ hot, tight cunt and brings them to his lover’s mouth. Morpheus opens eagerly at the gentle press of Hob’s thumb against his lips, and he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a contented hum, diligently licking away every trace of his own spend.

“Mm, just like that, love. So beautiful,” Hob murmurs, turning Morpheus around in his arms and licking into his mouth, kissing him deeply and chasing the salty-sweet taste on his tongue. Morpheus leans into his husband’s embrace, feeling rather dizzy and weak in the knees after all that. Hob takes his weight easily, wrapping an arm around his waist and guiding him to the sofa. “I’ve got you, my love. I’ve got you. Shh, it’s alright. You just lie down and I’ll be back in a tick.” Hob maneuvers him into a supine position on the sofa, and Morpheus’ mind is currently too fuzzy to do anything but admire the view of Hob’s shapely backside as he heads towards their bedroom.

Hob returns moments later, smelling of the jasmine-scented hand soap from the bathroom and carrying the lavender lotion that Morpheus likes. He has also put on joggers, which Morpheus is less pleased about. Hob sits at the opposite end of the sofa and pulls Morpheus’ feet into his lap. Morpheus cannot hold back the decadent groan that escapes from his mouth when Hob starts to rub the lotion into his aching soles, soothing away the pain and pressing tender kisses to each toe.

Before Hob, no one had ever touched Morpheus’ feet. It had never occurred to him, and he never would have allowed it. But he wishes now that he had experienced this when he still had the power to craft dreams; the sensuality and intimacy of this simple pleasure would have made a lovely fantasy. In many ways, it is as enjoyable as sex. Well. Almost as enjoyable.

Morpheus loses himself to the sensation, indulging in the worshipful touch that Hob so lovingly bestows on him. He is just beginning to doze when he hears a snort of laughter from Hob. He cracks one eye open and gives a questioning hum.

“I was just thinking,” Hob says with a grin. “We’re going to have to hide all of these when your sister comes to visit.” He jerks his head towards the corner of their sitting room that has more or less become a shrine to Hob; there are paintings, sketches, and sculptures in various styles and media. Most are nude, and some are merely depictions of his genitals. Though Morpheus was once married to Calliope, it is safe to say that he has another muse these days.

“It is nothing she has not seen before,” Morpheus replies with a lazy shrug. “My sister’s sensibilities are not so delicate; you should see the parties that Desire throws.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather not,” Hob laughs. “And I’d also rather not let my sister-in-law see these incredibly accurate and lifelike sculptures of my cock, if you don’t mind.”

“The sculptures do not do the subject justice. And you have never objected to Matthew seeing them.”

“Sure, but that’s different. I don’t give a toss what Matthew thinks. Besides, he’s objected plenty. He avoids that side of the room like the plague, and haven’t you noticed he’s been coming in through the kitchen window lately?”

“Very well,” Morpheus relents with an exaggerated sigh, “I suppose that is fair, my husband.”

“Thank you, darling,” Hob says, leaning over to place a kiss to his husband’s rounded belly.

“But you will have to find a place to store them. Perhaps you can clean out the closet, as you have been promising to do for months,” Morpheus adds, raising his eyebrows pointedly.

Hob groans and slumps over into Morpheus’ lap, like a puppet with its strings cut. “Alright, fine, you win. Damn, foiled by my own modesty.”

Morpheus scoffs and fixes Hob with a deadpan glare. “Hob. You have no modesty.”

Hob bursts out laughing at that and, without warning, grabs Morpheus by the ankles and hauls him into his lap. He growls playfully, and Morpheus’ surprised shriek quickly turns into hoarse, croaking laughter as Hob tickles his sides and nips at his throat. He collapses on top of his husband, capturing his mouth in an ardent kiss. They remain there, locked in a passionate embrace and oblivious to everything but each other as the last embers of the sun are extinguished and replaced with the dreamy glow of street lamps.

---

Thanks for reading! Reblogs, as well as kudos and comments on ao3 are always appreciated! 💗💗💗

[barbieb0y]

joining the thoughts on golden hour part 1 bandwagon bc oh boy i have thoughts

obviously my expectations were kinda high bc it's ateez we're talking about here and that this is actually my first comeback ever. none of the title tracks have disappointed me so far – and thats not to say i was disappointed with work. but i would say it's... underwhelming.

i mean, after the world series with guerilla, halazia, bouncy and crazy form, how do you expect me to process the whiplash that is work? we got all these intense songs and performances, hammering in the outlaw concept then... work. this album. there's a reason why i was surprised to hear this is a hip-hop themed comeback bc it's not that it doesnt suit ateez, i was excited to see how they would mess with the genre, but. work sounds like a song another group can pull off. sonically, at least.

i'd like to think that work is a milestone for all their achievements thus far, like "hey we made it this far bc we hustled" and i still think that but it could've been theirs. but this sound isn't theirs. at least not yet, if theyre planning to mess with it in the future too.

i liked the beat when they first leaked it and i still like it. but throughout the whole song, it's just that. it's just one beat. im not saying it cant sound good (360 by charli xcx is a good example) and im not saying it's not good but like i said: it's underwhelming. the mv kinda saves it bc i absolutely adore how chaotic and funny it is but i wish the song itself couldve lived up to the whole chaos of the visuals.

im not gonna talk about the intro bc the intro is just the intro. let's talk about blind. when i listened to the preview, my first thought was "wow they should play this in the world cup" and i was still thinking that when i listened to the whole thing for the first time. then i listened to it with the lyrics and i thought "wowie it's a love song i see". but to put it simply, i like it but thats about it. i wouldn't skip it but i don't lose my mind or put it at the top of my rankings like everyone has been apparently doing.

moving on to empty box, i wasn't expecting to like it much when i listened to it in the preview bc i'm not a fan of slow songs/ballads usually but when i first listened to it on release... it became my first favorite of the album. this is what i mean by they can do simple good and they can make it theirs. even though the song does remind me of another song/artist (ive been struggling to figure out what/who exactly though...), it's not bc it's a song anyone else can do. they took a genre and made it theirs. that's how you own it. the lyrics also hit close to home and i find them incredibly moving.

next is shaboom. this was my initial favorite from when i listened to the preview and i was looking forward to how the whole thing sounds like and well, i wasn't blown away but i do enjoy it. i like the goofy intro and the first verses are fun, like i can imagine a silly mv where they're hosting a house party and inviting you to join in on the festivities. i can't really remember the verses after the first chorus though (idk why but im struggling to remember the non-chorus parts in this album despite looping it for a few times already) but i do like it. more than blind at least.

lastly, siren. my current favorite. ive been looping the fuck outta this song. it is actually so good but i'm not really surprised bc this, alongside empty box, are the ones that allegedly had more time spent on them (hell, siren was battling crazy form to become the title track for the world ep fin will). this is how good they can be when they actually take their time, this is who ateez is supposed to be. and im not lying nor exaggerating when i say this should been the title track for this comeback. i can already imagine the mv, the choreo, the stages that they can do if this was the title track. i sincerely believe that this song is like a mix of bouncy (mostly the vibes), outlaw and crazy form which you should know is a banging mix. i love the goofy intro (of course), i love the chaos from the verses, i love the descent in the pre-chorus down to the chorus itself (i think it's reminiscent of crazy form), the "ringing siren, ringing siren" parts make me ascend (both the post-chorus and at the end of the song), THIS IS ATEEZ. GOD.

tldr my ranking is this:

siren

empty box

shaboom

work*

blind*

golden hour

*work and blind are interchangeable bc i like them the same amount

conclusion? a solid album but it's not their best. it's not cohesive. like it feels like it's creating a creative dent in their discography. so i can't really rate it bc it'll have to depend on what perspective you're looking at.

i can only hope they take more time to prepare for their next album. i do not want another rushed comeback and album. i want these bitches to rest and be at their actual best when they perform! go for quality over quantity of you can't do both!!