#holds them in my hands. is this too... yuri?

[itsdefinitely]

feeling silly

[noctlas332]

the way my schools printers work is that if youre printing a document, and the printer runs out of paper, your unprinted pages will print before those of whoever comes to print next

i tried printing some things today but the printer ran out of paper

i came back half an hour later to a stack of printed images

someone had to wait for my 28 pages vocal synth yuri to print before they could do their work

[niklenakle]

I ran out of tags before i could list all the rune factory girls im really sorry ill do better next time...

Hello, tumblr user. Before you is a tumblr post asking you to name a female fictional character. You have unlimited time to tag a female character, NOT a male one.

Begin.

[n30n-l1ghts]

Okay, I need to rant. Fuck AI. And I mean seriously. FUCK. A.I. I know I’m probably preaching to the choir here, but more people need to be talking about this, and there’s no point in me saying that if I’m not willing to talk about it too. AI has done nothing but ruin our communities and defile the art that millions of hands have spent millions of hours creating. Fanfiction is a work of passion. Drawing is a work of passion. Voice acting IS A WORK OF PASSION. AI has no passion. It takes the soul out of the things we love and cherish. It steals what we as a collective community have lovingly crafted, and it shatters it to a thousand pieces, spits on it, curses its family, and throws it in a flaming dumpster to be eaten by rats. It is despicable and disgusting.

I won't lie, or pretend I’m a perfect saint. I myself was a user of Character AI until somewhat recently. And as ashamed as I am to admit that, I feel it’s necessary to own up to my own faults. But after seeing the damage it causes, I can’t in good conscience even consider touching that site. Many of us write because it is our passion. Many of us because it is our job. And many of us because it is our *friend*. AI steals the writing of your favorite creators WITHOUT PERMISSION and mashes it together like Frankenstein’s fucked up monster to create storylines that aren’t even fucking coherent. Not only that, but Character AI uses whatever you respond to it with to teach itself as well, which means that the company has access to whatever you chat about, and free reign to do whatever they want with it. They also make absurd amounts of money from it, which in comparison, fanfiction writers, who spend countless hours writing stories for our favorite characters, more often than not charge nothing. And the ones who do charge, tend to have reasonable, if not highly lenient prices for their labor.

Which leads me into another side rant. SUPPORT WRITERS THAT YOU LIKE. It’s really not that hard, it takes two fucking seconds of your time and it makes someone's day. Reblog. Share with your friends. Like. Comment. Just let the writer know that you saw it, and that you liked it. The amount of fanfic writers I have seen get completely discouraged from writing because of lack of engagement is astounding. I’ve seen several posts on Tumblr or Twitter or Bluesky talking about creators that were incredibly popular but never knew it due to lack of engagement is appalling. If you can rant about your love for their work on Discord, you can rant about your love for their work in the comments. Just fucking copy paste it. Tell them how much you love it. Show them support. Especially the ones that don’t charge. Because for those of us that don’t, our only payment, is your feedback. Even constructive criticism is greatly appreciated by damn near every writer I can think of. Because even that shows that you read it, absorbed it, and thought about it enough to have something to actually say about it.

The same thing goes for artists and voice actors. You see a drawing or animation you enjoy? Comment. Like. Share. You see a character in an anime or a game and you love their voice? Go check out their voice actor, maybe they do some other cool stuff, and you might just discover your new favorite series or streamer. A perfect example is Alejandro Saab. I became a fan of his through his astounding performance in several series dear to me, and lo and behold, he’s also a streamer I enjoy. Same story with Aleks Le, or Ray Chase. Yuri Lowenthal, Lizzie Freeman, Landon Mcdonald, Zeno Robinson, the list goes on. But seriously, it’s not that much effort to just show a little love to the creators you enjoy. The people who breathe life into the series’ that we all hold dear. AI does not breathe that life. Using AI, and supporting those companies, will destroy those pillars of our community. And if that happens, the AI would crumble too, it would have no new information to use. SO really, what’s the benefit? I’ll tell you. There is none.

Stop using AI. All it does is bring harm and slowly kill our community. It’s disgusting, appalling, and downright fucking egregious.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

ahhhh hi!! If your requests are still open, could I please have Yandere hcs of transformers prime Optimus and Megatron(separate) with a gn reader? If you want you can also add in a random character for Yandere hcs as well! Thank you for your time have a good one!

(Turns around the with the most evil smile of them all) Now we getting freaky!! (•ˋ w ˊ•) Hue-hue-hue !

Yandere!Optimus Prime & Yandere!Megatron (TFP) Headcanons!

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, stalking, typical violence from the series and a little bit more, kidnapping, a lil mention of body horror (not sure if it counts). Reader is Gender Neutral.

OPTIMUS PRIME

I will classify Optimus as a Protective, soft worshipper yandere that has a little hint of uncanny valley (I'll talk about this in a moment).

Optimus' life is sadly surrounded with tragedy as he tries to keep a hopeful light on top of his helm for the sake of not giving up and letting down the Autobots.

We now how Optimus is always mourning and yet keeping his helm up, being strong for the others, being idolized by others and having the fate of "the chosen one" written all over him when... he never asked for it.

And he is tired. It's like he is always walking in the middle of the darkness with not a single path to take - lost, feeling like he is losing himself piece by piece... until You arrived.

As a beacon of light.

He has lost too many loved ones - friends, teammates... but deep down, silently, always thanked Primus to have taken anyone else and not You.

I think Optimus' yandere personality would be like Akemi Homura's love for Kaname Madoka - everytime he sees you, he sees nothing but light. Hope. Perfection. Your existence brings nothing but pure happiness and warmth.

The yandere to always kneel in front of you and hold your hands, thanking you for existing and deem him worthy enough of having your presence near him.

If you are a cybertronian, he would pray to Primus for the day to come he finally confesses his love for you, and you share said feelings too and become his Conjux Endura, in this life and the next one.

If you are a human, he would feel this burning need to become your guardian, your protector. His little safe space from the war and battles, always asking you things about your world and about you, promising you with every breath he takes he is going to keep you safe.

Either as a cybertronian or human, he is not letting you anywhere close to battles. He can't lose you. He won't lose you.

Remember the Uncanny valley thing I said? I see Optimus as this kind of yandere that forgets that he is existing in the same place as you - and stares. Just... stares.

The only thing that is giving out he is still living is how his optics move little by little, remembering everything about you again and again, his systems replaying his promises to you and why he keeps fighting, why he is willing to sacrifice the others and himself - to protect you.

Imagine the Yuri stare moment from Doki Doki Literature Club. Yeah, that is the Uncanny Valley I'm talking about.

Following you, stalking you - and you don't actually see him at first (How when he is just the size of a giant?). You move, you go from place to place, room to room. Until you finally find him, peaking from somewhere. Staring at you as you are swallowed by the shadow he casts upon you.

"My spark... my deity. My one and only." He whispers as he gently snuzzles his helm against your helm/torso as he holds you closely to him.

MEGATRON

Megatron gives me the vibes to be a yandere that changes from a type to another.

Definitely an aggressive yandere, but transitions from sadistic-possessive to delusional-paranoiac with the past of times and the events you live with him.

Megatron can see as much as he wants that he only wants a 'strong significant other' by his side and that he 'will not stick to a weak individual' - if he falls and falls hard it is done for him.

You are going to be in this situation of being seen as an equal but also as a pet or possession he owns in his optics.

Definitely kidnaps you - no matter if you are a human or cybertronian, either part of the Autobots, neutral or a Decepticon.

Is not afraid to threaten you or even hurt you (but not that much, he wants you still alive, after all - he can't love you if you are no longer breathing).

Actively reminds you he owns you.

"You are MINE. I will tear any bot's throat if they ever think they can take you from me - so you better think carefuly the moment you open your mouth, dear. Unless you want to see energon or blood all over the place."

The transition I told you about would happen only if your life is put in danger and actually get too close to die.

Imagine if you are hurt, bleeding and bruised but still breathing, totally gonna survive and live another day. Megatron is not a mech to feel fear. But Primus - he felt a dread and despair as he kept processing what happened, hugging you against his chestplate as his system spirals deeper and deeper, his need to possess you becoming paranoia.

If you are a cybertronian, Megatron is going to start having ideas about... merging his spark with yours - but in a sense fusing, becoming literally one - you'll be his spark as he becomes your body.

"You'll become the energon running inside of my system, my software and system, the spark - that way, no one will take you away from me."

If you are a human, will get Soundwave, Knockout and Shockwave to work on a project - to build you a cybertronian body and fuse you with it, defying the laws of your lifespan and finally making you one of his kind.

"There you are... stop crying, my dear. You are perfect now - and as long as I live, you will live. My conjux endura."

My baby brain hurts, had a headache for like 3 hours. (っ´Ι`)っ Vhaos out!

[deep-space-lines]

hey yknow what would be fuckin’ sick

This is technically an OC, though I’m not sure how much I’m gonna draw her considering... *waves hands*

her name is Vyšehrad (vee-sheh-rod). pronouns she/her but like a boat

basically the story in my brain (which takes a lot of liberties with canon because I can do whatever I want) is that she's one of the last earthmovers to shut down near the very end of the war/very beginning of the New Peace, and her people left to find a new home before she completely lost power

she ends up lying in a field, too weak to move but with just enough power to regain consciousness on the few rare occasions that sunlight made it through the clouds, and gets into a ~toxic yuri situationship~ with another much smaller machine (placeholder name Lancer, bc they're a scraphead who incorporated part of Vyšehrad's own lance into their arsenal) who kinda turns her into their home base and defends her from other machines while she sleeps, not really out of any care but mostly because she's a very large source of blood and Lancer wants that for themselves

Vyšehrad is lonely after years of basically holding an entire city on her back and appreciates the company as her waking moments become increasingly rare, and Lancer slowly begins to care for her, neither of them knowing which day will be her last. naturally this is ultrakill so they both die tragically <3

the cathedral aspect of her design isn't even all that important to her character tbh i just thought the concept would look really cool. of course i like gothic architecture i was born in prague

[demonic0angel]

"If you give me a prompt I'll write it 😈" - Aight Bet.

Danny didn't expect his sister to have a pen pal, she said it's someone from nanda Parbat?? Danny doesn't know where the Fuck that is but everytime he sees the letter that was sent(those are some fancy lookin envelopes) he could feel rancid Ectoplasm lingering around them.

Jazz has already noticed but took no caution about it, Jazz said that she had a son, her name was Talia (No Mentioned Last name) and she was a very odd woman.

Danny listened to Jazz ramble on about her new "friend", Her son Damian which her pen pal had talked about and even sent a drawing of(how fancy). Danny WOULD investigate and dig deep into it since he's the ghost king and all but jazz explicitly told him not to.

....

Meanwhile, Jazz plans to meet her 'Penpal Friend' soon. She's very excited but still cautious, The way her friend talked about her situations was... Concerning to say the least and jazz shall use her psychiatrical expertise to help her!

[Danny is very concerned, Dan is Very Concerned 2.0, Dani says "Yuri."]

-A.E. 👻

(I’m gonna change the context of your ask a little so Jazz already knows Talia’s identity before she meets her again in person. Also, this got really long lmaooo)

Talia gave her a small nod when she saw her. She lifted her head to meet Jazz’s gaze as Jazz gave her a dazzling smile.

“Hello, Talia,” Jazz said, pushing her hair behind her ears. “You look lovely.”

Talia avoided her gaze and just hummed. She cleared her throat lightly and then said, gesturing to the hallway, “This way.”

Jazz followed her at a set pace and said, “It’s good seeing you again. How are you? Did you enjoy the candy I shipped over?”

Talia nodded. “Yes. I gave them to my son and he enjoyed them. Thank you very much.”

Jazz beamed. She did not ask the burning question in her heart. Was Talia alright? Her letters to her had become less and less frequent in the past year before the most recent message to her had been a barely disguised begging for Jazz to come see her.

Jazz didn’t mind; she loved seeing Talia, who was startlingly dangerous and hauntingly beautiful, but it still worried her. Talia was a strong woman, but she wasn’t invincible, even with that pool of rancid ectoplasmic bath water. (She shuddered just thinking about it. She needed to ask Danny to wipe them out before Talia could hurt herself again using them.)

“Where are we going?” Jazz asked, glancing around. They were inside of a nice, expensive looking condo in Spain.

Talia paused in front of a door. She hesitated before she said slowly, “Jazz… I have valued your friendship greatly. In the last few years, you have become someone very dear to me. However, as you are already aware, I am in a dangerous position in my home. I do not wish to endanger you, especially since you are a civilian. If you do not wish to take this journey with me, then… you should turn around now.”

Jazz chuckled. How cute that Talia thought that Jazz was a helpless civilian. However, it had been Jazz who had accidentally enforced that idea within Talia’s mind. It was a little too late to correct that notion though, so Jazz just shook her head softly and tried to look reassuring for Talia.

“It’s too late for that.” She reached out to hold Talia’s hand, scarred and weathered from fighting, squeezing slightly. “I will accompany you and help you however I can.”

Talia nodded again, looking away. “Thank you… beloved.”

Jazz tilted her head curiously at the title, but did not say a word. Talia then opened the door and Jazz’s eyebrows rose as she stared at a young boy with similar features to the woman beside her. He scowled at her, but it just looked cute with his round cheeks.

Jazz turned to Talia. She already had an inkling, but she wanted to confirm. “This is…?”

“My son,” Talia said, “His name is Damian. And I earnestly beg you to take him in for me.”

“What! But mother!” Damian stood up and shouted, while Jazz’s eyebrows shot up again.

Talia gave him a light glare. She turned back to Jazz and it was cute how she had to look up at her. “My father is increasing pressure on us, and he is training Damian even harder. If this continues, Damian’s life could be in danger. I would’ve left him with his father, but Bruce’s lifestyle is… not what I want for Damian. Please, could you take him in, beloved?”

Damian shut his mouth with a click and both Al Ghuls stared at Jazz with wide eyes, one beseeching and one shocked.

Jazz smiled and reached out to hold Talia’s hand again. It was really nice to hold, and warm too. “Of course. You don’t have to worry, Talia. Like I’ve said, you can depend on me.”

Talia beamed. “Thank you, beloved.” She flipped Jazz’s hand and kissed the back of it softly. Jazz blushed. It felt strangely… intimate? But who was Jazz to judge? Maybe it was a League of Assassins custom! Or something! She didn’t get to meet Talia often, usually just exchanging weekly letters, so how would she know?

Talia turned back to Damian, still holding Jazz’s hand and said, “She will be your new caretaker. She is very important to me and you can trust her with your life. Call her… mom.”

Jazz side eyed Talia, but did not dispute it. Maybe it was some sort of spy plan? Like a code name? It would make more sense when a woman and a young boy were together for them to be mother and son.

Jazz also turned to Damian and let go of Talia’s hand to walk over to him slowly, keeping an open posture and friendly smile on her face.

Damian eyed Jazz as she approached and then knelt down respectfully before him. She smiled. “Hello, Damian. I’m Jazz, and I hope we can get along.”

Damian looked at his mother. They had some sort of silent conversation that Jazz did not understand, before Damian turned back to her. “Yes… it’s nice to meet you too… mom.”

Jazz smiled. “I’ll take care of you.”

Damian sniffed. “I certainly hope so.” He tried to look haughty, but he was so short compared to Jazz that it once again looked adorable and pouty.

Yep. It was official. Her siblings were going to eat him alive.

Jazz looked back at Talia, who was staring at them both with a soft expression. Strangely, the gentle look made Jazz’s stomach flutter.

Weird. Was she growing sick?

Talia blinked, noticing her gaze. “Is there something wrong, beloved?”

Jazz coughed at the nickname again. Damian eyed her like she was a walking disease and Talia just looked more and more worried. “Nope! So, uh, what’s the official plan?”

She stared at Talia, who just blinked and hummed, pursing her red, kissable lips.

Yep. Definitely sick.

(Talia: Heh! Cool, calm, and collected, with a dash of vulnerability! I’m definitely showing my best side to my beloved, Jazz! She’s so much better than that emotionally constipated Bruce!

Jazz: *completely and utterly oblivious to any advances made by another woman* Wow, Talia is so pretty today too. Surely, it is normal to want to hold hands and kiss another girl because she’s so pretty 😃 I wonder why she wants her kid to call me mom? 😃

Damian: …. Two moms? Is this my birthday?)

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 7

Title: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel flies home, Yuri flies back, Jungkook can't stop thinking about the other night. And you? Gods, don't even get me started.

Warnings: T, language, fluff (?), angst, reader is ~not~ okay for a chunk of this, bye bye Nel! it was nice to meet you, Yuri being the bestie she is, playful antagonism, JK thinking a lot, some photography technical words but nothing scary, reader is painting again, shocker.

Word Count: 4,463

Release Date: July 9, 2024. 2:00PM

A/N 1: Hi this was supposed to be released like a month and a half ago but then i went to europe and my brain was anywhere but near electronics. Anywhooo here she is, as always thanks for waiting and I'll try to be more consistent now that post vacation depression has kicked in.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Sometimes life works out incredibly conveniently for you, like when Nel’s flight leaves a half hour before Yuri’s gets in at the same airport. 

But then it sucks again as your week with Nel flies by so quickly it feels like you’ve had no time at all while also having so much because of all the new memories you’ve both made. 

Currently in a rideshare and airport bound, because you will be in no way okay to drive back, your grip on Nel’s hand is strangling as you take in every last second of time you can get with him. He keeps giving kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth; anywhere he can get access to really. 

He doesn't want this week to end just as much as you don’t. Fuck this fucking sucks so much.

The driver pulls up to the terminal drop off, and you both exit. Nel grabs his bag from the trunk, now filled with little mementos from your week as well as his clothes. A pressed flower from the greenhouse, museum postcards, a doodle you did for him while he was sketching, and more, all tucked away for safekeeping. All the only physical things he can hold onto until he sees you next. 

Walking into the airport, you make your way up to the check in desk, paperwork already in hand. Nel checks in and you request an escort pass, determined to spend every last moment together. 

There’s a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying to swallow. It’s thick, like a ball of unending peanut butter you can’t get down. And your chest feels like a black hole has opened inside of it, right where your heart is supposed to be. Every second that ticks away allowing another drop of the warmth you have with him to be sucked right out of your sternum.

Painful doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling. 

As beautiful as your week was, the reality of the present is setting in, and the closer you get to his gate, the closer you are to tears. You’re trying your best to blink them away, but you won’t be seeing him until winter break, and even then, that’ll only be for a day or two at most before you have to wait till summer to see him again. So it might as well be goodbye for those full 6 months.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to have to go through this over and over again, to have this separation from the one you love, even if it’s only temporary. Funny how temporary can sometimes feel like forever when you’re in the middle of it. 

Funny how the concept of temporary doesn’t make the gash in your heart open any less.

You don’t want him to go, but you know he has too. The faster he goes, the faster he can come back to you. 

You hate that he has to go in the first place. You just want him to stay. Please, just stay.

But he can’t. 

You reach his gate and before you know it, his flight’s being called to board and your tears refuse to stay inside any longer, the lump succeeding in its plot of victory. They spill down your cheeks in silent rivers, wet splotches on the neckline of your shirt forming as they flow. 

Maybe they’ll create a little lake in the hole he’s leaving you with. There’s certainly enough of them to fill it. Something to fill the void a little until you can see him again.

Nel takes one look before scooping you into a crushing hug, a desperate echo of the one from a week ago. His own tears now staining.

“I love you so much,” he says. You don’t see his eyes squeeze shut, nor do you see him memorizing your smell, as he kisses the top of your head. And his voice wobbles as he whispers, “It’s not forever, it’s just for now.” 

He says those words every time you two part, whether it was for a day or a year. Never goodbye or so long. Never see you later. 

They’ve always been a small comfort in otherwise shitty situations. 

“Just for now,” you get out through quiet sobs, gripping onto him even tighter as you shake. 

It takes you a couple deep breaths before you can say anything without breaking. “I love you too. Please be safe, message me when you land, and do well on your final exams.”

He smiles at that last bit, and your tears free themselves again. You’re going to miss seeing that smile in person.

Nel pulls you in once more, tighter. “It’s always harder when my good luck charm is halfway across the world, but I’ll manage.” Your sobs stutter with a broken laugh, and you’re pretty sure his sweater is going to have tear stains on it. “I promise I’ll message as soon as I can. And I’d wish you luck but you never need it. You always do well.”

The announcement for final boarding calls and both of you freeze in each other's arms. You don’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to go.

But he has too. 

You separate only enough to kiss. It’s messy and wet and gross, but you don’t care. It’s the last one you’ll have for a while and you never want it to end. 

But it does. 

Nel pulls away, and you reluctantly let him. He grabs his bag with one hand, the other holding onto both of yours as he backs away until he can no longer reach. Your arms drop to your sides with the traces of his warmth on your skin.

You watch as the boarding crew welcomes him on, and he takes one look back at you. 

You wave, mouthing ‘I love you.’

He mouths ‘I love you’ right back, and turns the corner.

You waited for Yuri at her terminal after dropping off Nel and taking five—okay ten—minutes to violently sob in the bathroom. 

She took one look at your half smile and puffy eyes and smothered you in a hug. Smelling like sunshine and ocean water, it was exactly what you needed. 

“It’s okay Sweets, you’ll see him again before you know it. This year will pass by so fast, just you see,” she tells you through your whimpers, the tears having returned the second her arms were around you.

They dry sometime on the way home. It was a thirty minute ride back to school, and they fell silently for a solid twenty before you even got in.

You hate goodbyes. 

But Yuri’s seen this three times now, and she always knew that a warm drink and junk food were in your immediate shared futures when she did. Screw healthy coping methods. It may be 9:30pm on a Sunday night, but that won’t stop you from downing a pint as you drown your sorrows in sweet, sweet cookies n cream. 

Yuri also knows you need a distraction, so she doesn’t hold back on telling you every detail of her vacation. 

The duke from a few weeks ago had been a dud. ‘Shit personality and even shittier sex’ according to Yuri. No consultation needed. 

But this new guy from the Ilcalos Islands sounds promising. He’s a Count of something she can’t remember but in her words, “big heart and even bigger dick.” 

That makes you giggle. And you’re happy for her. 

“Bitch, the second night he did this thing with his tongue and an ice cube and oh. my. god. I think I’m in love. That man could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d still say thank you afterwards,” she’s rambling at this point and you’re mentally apologizing to the driver for having to hear all of it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all; gladly welcome it actually. You want your mind anywhere other than the present right now. 

You don’t want to start crying all over again. By the morning you’ll be fine, you’ll have let out everything you needed too. But between then and now, it’s a matter of mentioning the wrong words or seeing an intriguingly designed building that could trigger those pesky tear ducts.

So you listen to Yuri go on and on about this guy, all his techniques and what she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since she last saw him. His number is already saved in her phone under a very inappropriate name, but you expect nothing less from her. 

You love her for it. For this. 

For knowing what you need to stay afloat right now and not allowing you to throw the anchor overboard with your leg chained to the end.

You really fucking hate goodbyes. 

You’re staring at him. 

Like, full on, no bars held, staring at him. 

And Jungkook’s pretending he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in your chair and he’s back in his beside you at greenhouse cafe. Your half done painting of pink flowers sits in front of you, his laptop screen’s filled with this week's newly assigned ‘Studio Portrait Techniques 1’ homework. 

His half finished coffee on his table. An empty pastry bag on yours.

His hands on his keyboard, yours gripping a brush.

And you’re staring at him. 

He’s hoping it’s because this is the first time you’ve seen him since Nel left. 

But it’s probably to do with the fact that he hasn’t looked at you once today. Or the fact that he’s barely spoken at all when he usually can’t seem to shut up when it’s been more than 48 hours since he last saw you. 

Because it’s also the first time he’s seen you since he was with Adaline, imaging she wasn’t Adaline.

“You’re acting weird,” you say.

“No I’m not,” he responds a little too quickly, eyes still focused on his computer.

Yes he is. He really, totally is. 

“Yes you are, you won't look at me and you’ve barely said two words since I got here.” Well your knack for observancy is still intact.

Normally that's a good thing, but right now?

“Did I do something wrong?”

No. No you didn’t.

He did.

He let his emotions get the best of him in a moment of weakness. He let himself become so overwhelmed with feelings he isn’t allowed to have. He let them win for a single night.

And now if he isn’t paying the goddamned consequences. 

After that night with Adaline, Jungkook had woken up filled with regret. He’d crossed a line he didn’t even know he should have drawn in very dark, very permanent ink.

For letting himself, just for one moment, imagine what it would be like to be with…

And things are harder than ever to shove down now. He can’t look even look at you without thinking about it. About what he did. What he wanted. 

Wants.

Fuck, he’s in over his head.

Jungkook forces himself to look at you, putting his years of social training and emotional masking to good use. It sure as hell came in handy during times like this.

Because you can never know. 

He can’t lose you because he's unable to get his shit together. It’s not your fault he feels like this. 

So he lies. Both to you and to himself, hoping it might help him believe it.

“Nothing’s wrong Dali, just focused on my work is all. We got assigned a big project on Monday and I’m planning out all my shoots.”

You look hesitant, like you can see right through his bullshit excuse that was only a half excuse because this project is massive. 

“If you say so,” your tone implying you don’t believe him, but thankfully, you let it go and lean closer to him to see. He pretends his breathing doesn’t hitch, “What’s the project?”

“It’s my final assignment for a class, I have to do a series of five portraits. Each one with a different style, capturing a different emotion, and they all have to be of the same subject to show the true versatility of my work. It’s easy to make things look different when it’s different people being photographed,” he explains.

Therefore, this assignment, and all of its working parts, is huge. He’s glad it’s due in the middle of December because it’s going to take him almost a month of planning to get it all together; backdrops, concepts, costumes, previsualization, focal lengths, props, equipment, lighting setups, etc. And then when the planning is over: to shoot, narrow down and edit. 

But that’s the point of it. To have the students demonstrate they know how to effectively expand on the definition of a ‘portrait’ instead of having one concept in mind and sticking to it. 

‘To broaden your creative approaches to seemingly simple constructs,’ as his professor would say.

He loves the way this professor does assignments. How she layers them so that not only does he learn how to shoot multi-concept ideas for the same project type, allowing him to add to his creative portfolio, but they also force him to break out of the expected conclusions for an idea and think outside the box. 

“Oh wow, that is a lot,” you say. Because you understand long running projects. 50 hour paintings don’t just happen in a day. “Do you have any ideas yet?”

“Yeah! I have them all already, actually,” he turns his computer towards you and you see a point by point list of summarized ideas.

- Bright and bold - happy, bright smile, colourful gels - Black and white, soft light: gel or bounce? Silk diffuser  - profile with water falling on face - relieved - Focused on passion - candid, regular colour. Diffuser? Or silk flag? - Normal colour profile, stark lighting - serious, front facing body, profile facing left, no visible clothing, “regal” _|(_*-*)>_. Flag.  - Mysterious - black background, white smoke, barely visible model, lower half of face painted black, upper half white, striking purple eyes (contacts?). Flags. Gels? 

“I’m really excited for this project,” he says, “it’s just the prep that’s going to take a while. Getting it all mapped and planned out. It’s mostly concepts right now.”

You nod, understanding once again. Though very different mediums, visual arts and photography are similar in many ways. 

“Adaline going to be your model?”

It doesn’t surprise him you think that, but he has no intentions of ever using Adaline for assignments or homework. 

“Actually, I… uhh…” he trails off. Jungkook’s trying to get the words out, he is. But they’re surprisingly difficult for some reason, and getting caught in his throat. 

Which makes his earlier anxious state come back in full force. 

It shouldn't be this difficult. It won’t be the first, second or fifth time he’s asked you.

Get the words out Jeon. Put on your professional face, this is nothing new.

He fails, instead, his voice comes out barely above a whisper as he says, “I was going to ask you if you would.”

You somehow hear him. 

“Me?” you look dumbfounded. 

“Yes, you.” He’s always used you for homework assignments before, so he’s not sure why all of a sudden this is surprising. Maybe because it’s a final assignment versus a weekly one? The effort will be greater? 

“But you have Adaline? I assumed that she would take up the position of model when you guys started going out.”

Oh. That makes more sense. 

But that is one mistake he won’t be making again, because he did ask Adaline. 

Once.

It was recent, Nel was still here and he didn’t want to disturb you because of that. Plus Jungkook was just trying to get a jump on his upcoming assignments anyway, taking a page from your book.

So he asked Adaline. And she leapt at the opportunity, like he expected.

What he didn’t expect, was when she essentially directed, staged, lit and posed every. single. shot. so that she would look her best. 

All he did was click the capture image button when she said too. 

And after the shoot, before he could even think to look at the pictures, Adaline was already there, holding his camera, going through them and deleting any picture she deemed ‘ugly.’

He was left with less than 20 images from the shoot where he was ordered to take over 200. And she even made him switch out one of the three he narrowed down for one she liked better. 

So no, he would not be asking Adaline to model. 

Ever again.

“Nah. You’re a lot easier to work with because you don't care how the pictures turn out, and let me do my thing. Adaline cares a bit too much, and has to have approval on all of them before I submit.”

You snort. “Seriously? Is she that self absorbed?” a quirked brow places itself on your face to match the smirk now on your mouth.

That’s new.

Your tone towards Adaline has always been neutral, if not a bit sharp when he talks about her. 

But this one? It’s like you know her, and knew she was like that, but didn’t know it was this severe. 

Adaline is very popular...maybe you two met and it didn't go well?

It certainly sounds like you don’t like her, if those six words were anything to go by. Which, he guesses they shouldn’t, but he knows you well enough by now to know the difference.

And if he’s honest, that wouldn’t shock him in the slightest. You two are nothing alike, and thank god for that. 

He covers for Adaline, like any boyfriend would. Though it stings a little bit.

“She’s just careful about what images could be leaked to the press. Can’t really blame her for that.”

Your face changes minutely, as if a second of understanding passes through before you turn to go back to your painting, and mutter, “no, you can’t,” placing a splash of pink on a flower. 

He returns to his work as well, switching the portrait assignment out for a different one. He needs to get his mind off it for a while before circling back. 

And the fact that you didn’t answer him. 

Deciding on a Design and Visual Culture assignment due next week, he dives in head first, resuming his earlier state of focus and avoidance.

Jungkook’s editing a picture when you stretch. 

You often hunch over your work, so you try to stretch every 30 minutes or so. Your arms are in the air and he catches a peek at the nearly finished floral study. 

They’re some kind of vibrant pink dangling flowers, and you’ve captured the likeness of them quite well, to no surprise of his, so he goes to compliment it but you beat him to the punch.

“Shots blurry.”

Jungkook does a double take at his laptop screen. He’d spent the better part of 40 minutes editing the image and hadn’t noticed that.

Because it’s not. It’s perfectly crisp and clear.

When he looks back to you, you have a shit eating grin on your face. 

Ah, he knows that look. 

You love to tease him about little things like that, giving him mini heart attacks. ‘Pay back for that first day,’ you claim. 

Well…

Two can play this game, so he plays off your comment.

“Oh, you're right. Thanks,” and he switches to another image. 

Your grin falters but you recover quickly.

“No problem.”

See, while you know how to playfully harass him about his pictures, Jungkook knows how…particular you are about your colours. How they need to be labelled correctly instead of by their umbrella terms like ‘blue’ or ‘red.’ Because blue or red could mean any one of the dozens of ‘sub colours.’

‘It’s not blue, it’s cerulean,’ you’d remark. 

‘That’s not red, it’s burgundy,’ you’d correct him.

You’re always correcting him, and it makes his pants tighten a little bit every time. But that’s on the other side of the line he does not cross anymore. A nice, big, fat, permanent, protective line. 

Jungkook settles for a more subtle method of attack. Using this little fact and your ridiculously extensive knowledge of flowers against you. 

He never thought the defense and attack lessons his father put him through would come in handy like this. But he’s glad for them now. It was the only time he could ever outsmart you.

He gestures to your canvas. “Those pink flowers are pretty, what are they called?” 

“Their common name is Lady’s Eardrop. And they’re magenta.”

Hook, line, sinker. 

He doesn’t even have to try, you walk right into it every time.

“Lady’s eardrop? That’s a weird name…do they come in other colours besides pink?”

You don’t look up as you reply. 

“Magenta, and yeah. Some are plum and magenta, some are a buttery white and magenta, and then some have this like, almost dark tangerine hue, but they’re a different type, longer. Not the same as those,” you point with the end of your brush to the greenhouse, where the fully magenta lady’s eardrop sits in the window. 

“And are these pink ones your favourite?” he’s really trying his best to keep a straight face as yours contorts with an eye twitch at every use of the word.

“They’re. Magenta. And sure, but the plum ones are pretty too.”

“Noted, the pink lady's eardrop are your favourite among eardrops.”

You break, turning to him, voice raising in minor annoyance. Jungkook bites his cheeks to keep a smile at bay.

“They are magenta. Not pink. Pink entails a lighter hue, there’s more titanium white in pink. That,” you point again, “is very clearly, magenta.”

He has to. 

He can’t help it. 

You’re sexy when you're assertive, he thinks. Tip toeing on that nice, big line.

But also hilarious. 

“Same difference.”

He can see the fire in your eyes blaze.

“No, not ‘same difference,’ they’re magenta!”

He’s leaning in. “Pink,” eyeing your lips as you speak. 

You lean in too, enunciating every syllable to prove your point. “Ma-gen-ta.”

Your noses are mere inches from touching. 

“They’re pink, Van Gogh,” he backs off before he does something stupid that he’ll regret, “Don’t get so invested.”

You back off too, sass still very evident when you reply, “They’re fucking magenta, asshat. Two completely different colours and you’ll label them as such around me.”

You’ve always had a mouth on you. One you aren’t scared to use when necessary, especially around him. So he doesn’t push any farther, knowing he’s already gotten what he wanted and then some. 

But also because sitting has become slightly uncomfortable. There was a stiff breeze, he tells himself.

Thank god for baggy, oversized hoodies. 

Returning once again to his work, he puts an elbow on the table and places his hand on the left side of his face to hide the massive smile that’s trying its best to turn into a smothered laugh.

Unfortunately for him, he lets his Princely guard down around you and so he forgets to force it down to an uncomfortable degree like he would at the palace. His laugh slipping out as a strangled noise and he quickly turns it into a cough, hoping you don't notice. 

But you do, because it’s you. Of course you do.

And the look on your face is priceless.

“You did that on purpose!”

“What?” he says way too high pitched. “Nooo, I would never, one hundred percent intentionally, say pink just to get back at you for pointing out the non-existent blur in my perfectly clear picture.”

He can see you trying to control your features, can see you failing and giving up by facing your canvas again, smiling to yourself.

“I was wondering how many times I could get you to say it. I think that was somewhere around ten? Gotta be a new record.”

You roll your eyes at him, but your quirked mouth remains. 

“You’re such a dick,” you quip.

“Yet, you like me anyways.”

You mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Awe, c’mon now. Fess up.”

A pause, before, “I said I just remembered I don’t know your favourite colour.”

No you most certainly did not, but he’ll let it slide.

“Black.”

“Ugh, boring.”

“What?”

“Boring,” you say again with absolutely no hesitation and proceed to grace his eyes with your own. “And technically not a colour. Black’s a shade.”

Jungkook offers up a non-smothered chuckle, saving his throat from further shenanigans.

“Whatever, Seurat, it’s still black. What about you? What’s Miss High and Mighty All Knowing of Colours’ favorite?”

“It’s still a shade,” you repeat.

“It’s still my favourite. Answer the question,” he presses. 

You give him an unimpressed stare. 

“Violet. Royal violet. The one your dad wears a lot,” your expression softens to one of wonder as you continue. Like you didn't just refer to the King of the nation you live in as ‘his dad’ so casually. “And when it’s not that, it’s this bright yellow. Like sunflowers or daffodils. Or the colour leaves turn in the fall when the light hits them from above just right.”

It’s Jungkook's turn to stare now. You look lost in your own head, envisioning the colours you describe, seeing them dancing in your eyes. And he can’t help himself, you glow when you speak about something you're passionate about.

“Why two?” 

“Why not?” you answer, still dreaming, colours swimming in oceans of thought. Your voice is almost whimsical. “Don’t you get bored of one colour for too long? It’s nice to switch things up every now and then.”

His reply brings you back down to earth, albeit slowly.

“Red.”

“Hmm?” you touch ground.

“If you won’t accept black, then red. The rich dark one, like blood.” He chose the first colour that came into mind, not really caring which one. 

He did like red. Red looked good in many ways. On cars, clothes, lips...

But he chose the first one that popped into mind because after hearing your favourite colours and the reasons why, he started to like them more than all the others too.

“Red’s a great choice, strong,” you say, allowing him the blanket term just this once.

“Thanks.”

There’s a moment of comfortable quiet between you before you break it.

“When do you need me for the shoot?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows find his hairline. 

That was a yes, right? You’re saying yes?

“Uhm…soon, I’ll let you know the specifics when I do.”

“Sounds good.”

He was going to leave it at that, but adds, “Thanks, Y/N.”

He hasn’t said your name since the assembly. 

Always nicknames when talking to you. Always. 

Never your name. 

Not once in two months. Almost three.

You—

An inhale.

You…like it.

The way it sounds coming from his lips.

Exhale.

Chapter Eight: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

A/N 2: She's shorter but chapter 8 is like 11k so far, so I hope that makes up for it!

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[bugboysgf]

Me?

Summary: You transfer to KISS for the the semester to be closer to Kitty but somebody catches your  eye….

AN: I just finished xo kitty an hour ago and looked on tumblr for fanfics but i couldn't find any so i wrote one myself. (kinda rushed so don't judge)

“Okay we should share this room together” you look up from your phone to see Kitty sitting on the bed.

“Okay cool.” you huffed. You were so nervous you've  never been miles away from your home before.

“Be happy your parents let you go this semester, it's a big deal.”

“I know…. I just don't speak Korean and I'm here. You've been here for one Semester already and you basically know everybody I transfer in the middle of the year.”

“But you were sad that you couldn't come to korea with me and my family now you are here coming to school with me.'' Kitty tried to get you to look at the bright side.

“Okay fine, so when can I meet your friends?” you asked

“Right now actually I'm pretty sure Min Ho, Q and Dae are at the dorm. You already met Julianna and yuri.” she grabs your hand and leads you to the boys dorms.

Your heart was beating the whole time, you had trouble making friends at school. Last semester you were all alone. Kitty was in Korea and she was your only friend. You were happy that you could be together now.

Kitty opens the door of the dorm and you both walk in.Then three pairs of eyes were on you. You kept your head low avoiding eye contact.

“Kitty! Your back!” a guy with curly hair hugs her. When they stop hugging he looks at you.

“Q this is y/n.”

“Hi nice to meet you.”

“Hi” you gave him a small smile. You notice another guy hugging her and you could tell who it was straight away, it was Dae.

“Good to see you in person and not a photo.” he smiles.

“Good to see you too Dae.” you said

“Please tell me you're not annoying like kitty is.” you look at the guy talking, he must be Min Ho, he's the only one you haven't met.

“I- l- don't think i am?” you say more as a question. The first thing you noticed was how attractive he was, you knew you couldn’t like him, you promised not to focus on boys. You look at a Kitty and you can tell she's on it already. She knows, she always knows.

“One thing I can say for certain is that you're prettier than a Kitty.” he looks at the Kitty with a shit eating grin.

“Haha, so funny.” Kitty glared at him “and don't flirt with my friend.'' Kitty flicks him off as he walks back to his room.

“He wasn't flirting with me” you came to his defense.

“He definitely was.” Q said.

“Sadly she doesn't know what flirting is, the last guy that flirted with her she said he was being nice but he was checking her out and telling her how pretty she was!”

“He was just being nice!”

—-

It wasn't a secret that you knew nothing about guys or how to talk to them. The only thing you knew about love was reading Harry Styles fanfics in the 6th grade. But Kitty knew everything she was a love expert and she only had one boyfriend. She makes you believe that the right one could be anywhere you just have to believe.

“Okay i'm ready.” you came out of the room. Kitty looks at you and frowns.

“Yea no. You are not wearing that.”

“What's wrong with it?” you look down at your outfit. You thought it looks good for the welcome back party.

“Did you forget that Min ho is going to be there? You can't show up with that on. You need something that makes a statement.”

“I've only said like three words to him, he doesn't like me.”

“Oh trust me he does, i've never seen him look at somebody like he does with you. Now change into this.” she hands you one of her dresses. You hold it up in the air, you couldn't say no to kitty she doesn't take no for an answer anyways.

—

“I can't believe I'm wearing this and I look good.” you said fixing your dress.

“Told you. He's here…look!" Kitty pointed to Min ho. “I'm going to leave now” Kitty got up from her seat when Min ho started walking towards you.

“Kitty what, no.” you tried to stop her while she was already walking away. You started to panic how were you going to talk to this attractive guy, that is way out of your league.

“Is anybody sitting here?” Min Ho said.

“Here? Oh no. no one. Sit.” you said a little too quickly, you were shaking your leg to try to calm down.

“Are you okay?” he put his hand on your thigh, you didn't answer, you looked at his hand on your thigh then looked back up at him. Your eyes were wide, heart beating faster than it was before.

“Oh sorry” he took his hand off of your thigh “So why did you come to kiss?” He continue talking like nothing happened.

“To be closer to Kitty she's like my only friend and also she said it was nice here so…”

“I mean it is, if you ever want me to show you around i could.” he offered. You shook your head and laughed. “What is it?” you could tell he was sort of offended.

“Nothing Kitty just told me you were a pain in the ass, but you're actually nice.”

“Of course, nice to pretty girls like you.” he smiled. Kitty told you that he thought he was the hot shit, and you hated that in guys but for some reason you just found yourself attractive to him.

“Thanks, you're not too bad yourself.” you nudged him

—

2 weeks later

“First A+ of the semester.” you danced with kitty.

“And we did it together.” kitty said “hows you and Min ho by the way, you haven't been talking about him”

“Nothing, I think we are just friends but I don't really know when somebody likes me.”

“I see it he definitely does just go for it i mea-” kitty stops talking when she sees you looking  at a text on your phone “your smiling it's him!”

“I have to go tutor Min ho bye.” you grab your backpack and open the door.

“Remember what I said!” Kitty yells.

“I will!”

—

“Done” Min ho hands you a paper. You look at the paper and realize most of the answers are wrong.

“Min ho you forgot to subtract.” you told him, you've been telling him this for the last 3 days and he keeps forgetting.

“Sorry I keep getting distracted.”

“Is it your phone? Turned it off.” you reach for his phone but he grabs it before you can.

“No it's this girl.”

“A girl?” you look up at him not sure what to say next.

“Yes this girl, i want to ask her on a date but i'm not sure if she likes me. She gives me mixed signals. What should I do?” he asks.

“Oh um.” you know right now you need to not sound jealous. “Just ask her out, if she says no then she's missing out.”

“Alright… will you go out with me?” you look at him stunned.

“Me. why?” you say confused you're not sure what to say, nobody has ever asked you out before.

“Because I like you.” He says like its so obvious.

“Me?  You like me? Is this a prank?” you look around to see if people are looking at you but nobody is.

“No? Why would it be a prank? Do you not like me back?” “I do.. I've just never been on a date before.” you confessed.

“Then i'll be your first.” he smiles and holds your hand.

[doukeshi-kun]

Dad Nikolai is definitely the type of dad to walk around shirtless all the time especially during the summer. Like he's the dad that while all the kids are outside playing, he's chilling, not a shirt in sight. Sun's out, tiddies out. Gimme his breasts pls 🙏

𝙙𝙖𝙙!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨

replies ✥ oh hell yea tiddies outttt

contents ✥ fluff, suggestive , oc kids (yuri, mari, karol), fem!reader

Nikolai treats you like a queen.

His words and manners are enough proof that he sees you as one. You could not remember how many times have you felt so down about your appearance, especially after three pregnancies. But Nikolai would always be there, hands slithering on your body, tracing your curves and folds and fleshes and bones, with his lips uttering how beautiful you are.

And he is such a great father as well. He makes sure your children all tell you how beautiful and pretty and cute you are. Yuri is a good boy—he always says nice things to you. Mari wants to be as pretty as you—she said. And Karol... Well, he often compares you with his favourite Hot Wheels cars, so you take it as a compliment.

It's summer. The sun is bright outside. It is a little windy, it is such a nice weather to chill. You are standing right outside your house, monitoring Yuri and Mari who are gardening. They seem to be focused on choosing between succulents. Yuri has taken a new interest these days and you are more than happy to support him—and Nikolai is always eager to play with Yuri, despite the boy's annoyance.

“Dad, dad! Bell man gonna come! Just waaatch!”

“I don't understand you, Karol...”

You hear your husband's voice and you turn to the side, seeing Nikolai's pinky getting pulled by Karol who is excited about some 'bell man'. Nikolai notices you and mouthes 'Help me' with a pleading pout.

However, your eyes are wandering away.

You know Nikolai likes to be shirtless—and this man is a nudist after 2AM—but there is just something else about his look right now.

Shirtless, black shorts, hair in a bun. His chest is toned, with lines of his muscles. His shoulders are just as broad as you remember.

You do not know if it is hormones or you are just attracted by how good of a father he is, but he definitely stirs something in you. You find yourself to be staring hard at his physique—has he exercised or something? Why do his arms look so strong and firm? Why does his waist look so huggable? Are his muscles already looked that toned and visible?

“Pervert alert.”

You swallow nervously when you realize that he is standing beside you. A timidity creeps up, and it feels like you two are young again. Nikolai grins, leaning closer to you. You feel your cheeks heat up and you lightly shove him by his chest, although it does nothing to nudge an inch of him.

“Aww, you shy now?” He teases again, holding your wrist and keeping your hand close to his body. Your fingers are brushing against his bare skin—he is slightly sweaty and he feels warm. Nikolai smirks, pressing your hand so you would palm his chest. “Come on, don't be shy. We've been together for years, my love.”

You pout, pinching his chest lightly. Instead of wincing, Nikolai only laughs, enjoying your reaction. “You’re so fun to tease. Always the same face. Never get tired of it, you know?” He says as he gives your ass a light smack, which you do not mind as much—he is always touchy. But his hand is lingering on your rear for a little too long.

He gives your ass a good squeeze, causing you to squirm and hitting his chest lightly. “D-Don't do that here... The kids—”

“Kids, go inside right now!” Suddenly Nikolai shouts at them and they immediately turn to both of you. You click your tongue in annoyance, attempting to pinch his stomach, but God—his body is firm.

“Don't listen to your dad. He's being stupid again.” You reply, assuring your kids that Nikolai is just joking. Both Mari and Karol are clearly confused but Yuri has the nastiest look on his face, which makes Nikolai cracks a wheeze of laughter.

“Isn't he always stupid though?” Yuri says. Karol gasps, looking at his big brother in disbelief.

“He is?!”

“He is.”

“I don't think daddy is stupid! I think he's just... mmm... selective smart!” Mari says and Nikolai cheers. He gets to his little princess and carries her up.

“Oh, my little flower! You really are your daddy's defender! Mwah!” He kisses her cheek, making Mari giggle. You smile to yourself but your smile falters into a shriek of embarrassment when Nikolai suddenly turns to you, saying, “It's okay, love. I'll carry you like this too.” He winks.

“Stop it,” You huff but your mind is already wandering elsewhere when you are starting to imagine how nice it feels when he wraps his strong arms around you. Your face heats up and you gaze away, trying not to look at your husband's flirtatious smile any longer.

“Bell man!” Karol suddenly shouts excitedly and both you and Nikolai turn to the gate, seeing Karol waddling to see an ice cream bike passing just in front of the house. The man on the bike is ringing a bell—a gesture to attract attention.

“Karol, don't go to the road!” Nikolai barks sternly as he puts down Mari. Yuri is already on his way to hold back his little brother who is excited for some ice cream when the ice cream man parks his bike right outside your yard. Mari looks at both you and Nikolai before grinning and following his brothers, seeming to want an ice cream too.

“Well, guess I have to buy ice cream for everyone,” Nikolai mumbles to himself. “Look after them for a while, sweetheart. I'm gonna get my wallet.”

“And... get your shirt,” You playfully smacks his chest, squeezing it. “Don't wanna have those aunties gawk their eyes on my husband now, do we?”

“Possessive, I like that,” Nikolai smirks as he slaps your butt lightly. “This is all yours, honey. No one has a chance, alright?” You giggle as you shove him back lightly, urging him to get inside and get dressed. Nikolai still has that perverted grin on his face as he walks into the house.

You turn to your kids, expecting a wholesome scenery of your kids choosing ice cream for each other, but all you see is Karol standing on the bike with the ice cream man—not even Yuri or Mari is stopping him.

©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[thalfbloodloser]

i wish we had alloaro representation in media. a charming character who fucks - both literally AND aesthetically. one that makes other characters go "wow! they're so cool and good in bed, but ultimately un-datable, because as soon as they sense any romantic intention on you, they flee" (kinda like lucifer morningstar from "lucifer". he's aroallo in my heart)

a character who's funny and has a horrifyingly 80's sense of fashion (they have a curly combed-out mullet and mismatched earrings. you'll find them at pride wearing a corn costume because it "matches the aroallo flag" and they're "being subtle") or one who's the embodiment of a 60's greaser (their motorcycle helmet is themed after the aro flag and the back of their leather jacket says "LOVELESS / LOVE LOSES") or one who's a girly fanfiction writer that has more ships than a star wars movie (their fics are muntifandom-ly famous and most their stuff is covered in yaoi/yuri patches and stickers. everyone thinks they're a hopeless romantic because of it, but that's exactly why they're so big on the fiction ≠ reality discourse) or...

anyone else, really. just ultimately a HUMAN who's casually aromantic. one who doesn't make it a parade but isn't subtle about it, either. will they hold other character's hands? maybe. kiss their cheek? perhaps. hang out with them, on picnics and walks along the river? can't see why not! but platonically. or maybe have them be genuinely romance-repulsed & not so eager to participate in anything socially perceived as romantic. that would also be amazing.

let them express themselves sexually! let them fuck. give them a..."fuckbuddy", if you must. or a best friend who's sexually involved with them - classic romcom material, i know - but without it being "complicated"; because there's no romance involved to complicate it.

give them funny scenes. another character tries to kiss their lips or ask them on a date? they laugh nervously, the scene cuts and we get a hilarious shot of them escaping through the bathroom window. or audibly saying "ew" and then regretting it. another character is struggling to write a romcom/romance book without it being corny? we get a scene where our character casually describes the most romantical (and, to them, unappealing) plot ever - because, much like aces acing the smut department, they're far from misunderstanding what is or isn't heartstopping for alloromantics - only to have the other character stare at them like "?????????? HELLO????". give us a scene of them being confused as to why their hookup is yelling at them for acting "so casual" and responding with a quotable shitty line ("just because we had sex last night i can't call you "bro"? / "what? expected me to marry you or something? get off my bed, it's 9AM" / "would you rather have me mad? sad? what's happening here. give me a hint")

but give them complicated scenes too. scenes portraying the loneliness that comes with being aromantic but not asexual, the lack of community. them talking about how hard it is to maintain sexual relationships just sexual. the painful "breakups" because one of their friends declared their undying love for them but they cannot possibly match that energy, even if they wanted to. have them weep because somehow that keeps happening. the unfairness in being accused of heartlessness and selfishness by other queers. the shame on being told they're fetishistic and the reason why queer men/women/people are seen as sex-crazed or impure.

...anyways, i'm rambling- do y'all have any aroallo ocs? or ideas for alloaro characters? maybe aroallo headcanons? i'd love to know what you think! :)

(don't tag as #ace / #asexual / #asexuality)

[stinkyturd]

Beats Per Minute

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Pairing: Haku Kusanagi/You

Comments: I got an anonymous Haku request, so let's call this a response to that! If you guys like this one, I can make a part two. Waiting for the next Tokyo Debunker Chapter tomorrow, then I will start back on Fever Dreams :').

"Alright... now see if you can remember how to conduct a general exam on your own," Jiro instructs.

This had been the fourth week or so that you had been spending the majority of your free time under the tutelage of Jiro and occasionally Yuri of Mortkranken. You were taking a few electives that were related to anomalous medicinal research, but truthfully-- your grades in that area were abysmal. Jiro had very reluctantly agreed to help you with your studies, but only if you could assist him with check-ups and various demands made by the Mortkranken Captain. 

Today, you called in Haku to one of Jiro's unoccupied exam rooms to be your guinea pig. The Hotarubi vice-captain seemed eager to help when you had phoned him earlier that day, which you had been banking on. You considered Haku to be one of the most, if not the most reliable Ghoul you had met at the academy. After all, he is the one who helped you when you had picked up that nasty curse and even continues to be there for you now, with pretty much anything he can reasonably assist with.

The two of you had become quite close, by your standards. At least enough to frequently eat lunch together, study, or even walk back to your dorms together. Haku's mild-mannered sensibility and facetious attitude were a breath of fresh air in comparison to some of the other Ghouls that you had been assigned to as an inspector for in the past. 

"Alright, Haku. Looks like we will be taking your vitals! Let's see... we logged your weight at seventy-two kilograms," You say as you scribble down the digits on a sheet of paper at the office desk you sit at. "Height at one-hundred seventy-eight centimeters..."

Haku clicks his tongue and tents his eyebrows, feigning a troubled expression. "Could you add about six more centimeters to that? I can't let it get out that I'm below one eighty-four. What would that do to my reputation?"

The Hotarubi vice-captain sits casually on an operating table next to you, while Jiro observes you from a rolling chair somewhere off to the side. 

Setting your pen down, you wheel your chair around to face him. "Lucky for you, my eyes are the only ones that will view this," You pause. "And Jiro's... maybe Yuri, too."

Haku hums, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. The deceptively coy look he's sporting evokes a fluttering sensation in your chest. "I guess if you already know, but find me dashing anyways... I think I can live with that," Haku drawls.

Always with the flirtatious jokes.

Said jokes were once few and far between, but you swear that you feel like they've been making more frequent appearances in the vice-captain's banter as of late. "It sounds like someone's fishing for compliments," You tease. 

Haku leans back on his palms and tilts his head, eyeing you mischievously. "Maybe I'm just waiting for you to bite."

You want to come back with something cheeky, but any and all words get caught in the back of your throat from the remark. It was actually downright criminal how Haku could be such a proper and polite gentleman one minute, and then the next be spewing out suggestive one-liners with double entendres. Even right now the Shinto priest's expression is shifting into one of self-satisfaction from your silence. 

Jiro clears his throat, catching your attention. "The exam..."

"S-sorry...!" You sputter out, getting to your feet. Taking a few steps closer, you move your hands out, hovering them over Haku's neck tentatively. "May I?"

"Please do." Haku's aurelian eyes remain locked on you, brimming with amusement. 

Holding your breath, your fingertips make contact with his neck, gently searching for any abnormalities with his lymph nodes. "No pain, or anything out of the ordinary, correct?"

"No, ma'am," Haku replies.

"Okay, good." You lift the stethoscope around your neck to your ears and walk behind him. "Okay deep breaths," You instruct, placing the chest-piece of the instrument against Haku's upper back. 

Haku obeys your instructions as you listen for anything unusual, sliding the piece throughout the expanse of his back after each breath. 

"Do you have any history of illness or conditions?" You ask, once you've placed the stethoscope back around your neck.

"No, not really anything serious." Haku pauses as he ruminates. "Well, I think the only thing I had was a slight arrhythmia as a kid, but it has long since passed."

You pull a blood pressure reader from a hook on the wall behind you. "Could you please remove your jacket?"

"How scandalous," Haku teases, giving you an impish side-eye. "If you insist, Doc." 

You snort at his antics as you watch him remove his jacket, leaving his torso clad in just a white button-up. Wrapping the cuff around Haku's right bicep, you secure the velcro and begin pumping the inflation bulb. After a few seconds, you mouth the reading to lock the number in your brain before removing the device. 

"Okay the only other reading we need to do is pulse." You reach into your pocket and pull out an oximeter and clamp it to his right index finger. While you wait for the device to get an accurate reading, you take out a penlight from your coat pocket and shine it on Haku's eyes. 

"... Looks like your pupillary reflexes are just fine," You remark, as you click the light off, tucking it back into your pocket. 

Haku's lips curl into a sheepish smile. "So, I'm in peak health, hm?"

"So far it seems that way, at least from what a general exam can deduce." You glance down to study the screen of the pulse reader and your expression quickly falters into one of concern. "Oh wow, your beats per minute is really high right now."

Haku follows your gaze. "One twenty," He reads aloud, unperturbed. 

That was unusually high considering Haku had been sedentary since he got there twenty minutes ago.

"Do you feel anxious, or typically suffer from anxiety related symptoms...?" You ask, gently removing the clamp from his fingertip. 

"Nope, never have," Haku states matter-of-factly with a lopsided grin. 

"I see... No current medications?" You ask, lifting your right index and middle finger to check the pulse against his neck. 

Haku shakes his head. "None."

"Do you have feelings of your heart racing often, or spontaneously?" 

The Hotarubi vice-captain hums, averting his gaze to somewhere off to the side. "I wouldn't say it's spontaneous... more often lately, yeah."

"I see..." Your gaze finds Jiro's. "Should we perform an electrocardiogram?"

Jiro nods, leaning forward in his chair. "It would be a good idea to eliminate any potential concerns. I can set up the machine right now." 

Haku laughs a bit. "Uh, I really think that's unnecessar--"

"Okay, sounds good," You say to Jiro. 

Jiro gets up to leave the room for a moment and you redirect your attention to Haku in front of you, beaming at him encouragingly. "Don't worry, it's a quick test! Plus, I want to make sure everything is squeaky clean! Especially since you said you used to have an arrhythmia. It's better to not leave any boxes unchecked since you're here, you know?"

Haku lifts an eyebrow, displaying an awkward smile. "Well... have you thought about the other reasons someone may get a racing heart?"

"Hmm... other reasons?" You repeat, unsure of where he was going with this. 

When Haku nods, you glance up at the ceiling, tapping your chin. "Cardio, vitamin B12 deficiency, panic attacks, anemia, dehydration, stress, low blood sugar..." You gasp and slap your closed fist to your palm as you draw a fresh conclusion. "That's it...! We should do your blood work too."

Haku gives you a tired look. "I don't need my blood work done, (Y/N). And I really don't need an ECG, but for you I'll oblige."

"You shouldn't be so sure, you never know!" You wag a chastising finger at him, before returning to sit in your chair to fill out the rest of the general check-up prompts. "You're my good friend and a valuable asset to Darwick. I want you to be in peak health! Subaru and Zenji would agree with me, too." With that, you start scribbling in the blank spaces on your sheet that you had yet to fill out.

Haku forces a chuckle from behind you. "Okay, but... have you considered the possibility that you're just so cute that it makes me nervous? Not to mention, your face was so close to mine."

The pen in your hand involuntarily slips from your grip and skitters off the edge of the table. 

Hah... again with the jokes, huh? 

You swing your chair around to face him and fold your arms over your chest with an unimpressed look. "Save the stand-up routine for when we wrap up the check-up, vice-captain."

"I'm not joking," Haku deadpans.

The Hotarubi vice-captain's expression does, in fact, read as sincere. To say that the idea of your presence eliciting such a reaction from Haku makes you excited would feel like a severe understatement. You study him, continuing to search for any signs of humor or deception. 

When you don't find any, you pivot around, reach into a desk drawer and pull out a clean hospital gown. "You'll need to remove your shirt for the ECG, so you can wear this," You say, tossing it in his lap. Hastily, you pick your pen up from the floor and redirect your attention back to your form, effectively hiding the blush threatening to creep up your neck.

"...Ouch," Haku mutters, laughing despite himself. "So this is what it feels like to get rejected? Now I really don't get how Kaito can shoot his shot so much."

"...Rejected?" You echo, in disbelief. The mere suggestion heightens your courage enough to look over your shoulder to address him. "I would never even consider committing such a heinous crime."

From the angle you're at, you can't really read Haku's expression. Just when you're about to face him again, Jiro finally comes back into the room, wheeling in the ECG machine towards the side of Haku's bed. 

"While I set this up, please remove your shirt and replace it with the gown," Jiro requests, unfolding a bundle of cords.

"Sure," Haku replies.

"(Y/N), come over here so I can show you how the settings work," Jiro adds.

"Okie dokie." Without hesitation, you flip around and get to your feet. You nearly trip over yourself when Haku comes into view. 

The Hotarubi vice-captain is seated with his unbuttoned shirt now pooled at his hips, exposing the entirety of his bare, toned, torso. Sliding off the bed, Haku stands and unfolds the gown, shifting his eyes towards your leering gaze. When you fail to look away after gawking long past the point of it being considered appropriate, Haku's lips curl into a suggestive smile. 

Jiro sighs, rolling his eyes. "(Y/N), if you don't come over here, I may have to report you for misconduct."

"Right, misconduct," You nod, tearing your gaze away from Haku's tantalizing state of undress. "Can it really be misconduct if you opt to change in public? There's a restroom down the hall," You ramble as you make your way to Jiro's side. 

"Takes too much time," Jiro interjects before Haku can defend himself. "We have other patients."

You swear you can see Haku giving you a smug look out of your peripheral vision and you choose to ignore it, lest your face burn brighter. 

After the electrocardiogram machine is set up and attached to Haku, it takes about ten minutes to run the test and get results. 

Once that happens, Jiro announces the conclusion. "Haku is in picture perfect health. Nothing to worry about." The Mortkranken vice-captain begins to remove the wires secured to Haku's chest. "This was good practice, regardless. Good work, (Y/N). Maybe in the near future you can do some general check-ups while I'm preoccupied with other tasks."

"Yeah... right." You sit at the desk again, recording the results of the test on the paper in front of you. 

If Haku's fine, then what he said was true. He's been nervous around you lately...? And then he went and made a comment about you rejecting him. What the hell is going on?

"Are you about finished with that, (Y/N)?" Jiro asks, peering over your shoulder. 

"Oh, yeah. It's done." You briskly thrust your hand in the air, the paper in it.

"Okay, good," Jiro takes it from you, glancing over it. "I will be right back to prepare for the nex--," Jiro randomly turns green and clamps a hand over his mouth. 

It was a common occurrence, but you express concern anyways. "You okay? I think it's about time you take your medicine. It's been a few hours, no?"

Jiro nods. Slowly, he turns his back to you and trudges out of the room.

Poor guy, really.

"Are you going to be done soon?" Haku inquires as he gets up from the bed and stretches. Thankfully, he's properly clothed again by the time your eyes drift in his direction. 

"I'm sure it won't be too much longer, though Jiro's schedule isn't always predictable," You explain as you subconsciously try to calm your jittery nerves. Turning your chair slightly, you muster a friendly smile. "Thanks for coming, you've been an excellent test dummy."

"Anytime, (Y/N)," Haku replies easily, returning a smile of his own. 

A momentary silence falls on the two of you. It looks almost as if the vice-captain intends on saying something else, but you make a point to beat him to it. 

Abruptly, you lift yourself from your chair. "I can walk you out, if you want." 

"Yeah, let's do it," He readily complies. Haku from a few months ago would be quick to insist such a gesture was unnecessary out of courtesy, but not today evidently. 

You lead Haku out into the hallway and towards the entrance of the building. Typically, you'd be talking his head off right now about various things, but your brain continues to swim with thoughts of your conversation earlier. Did you brushing off what Haku admitted to earlier genuinely bother him? You're pretty sure he would never tell you if it had. Haku is the type of guy who's always too preoccupied with worrying about others to let anything get to him too much. Should you apologize? Is he expecting something from you?

"Hey, Haku," You start, quelling your internal conflict as you walk ahead of him. 

"Hey, (Y/N)." 

"If I said something to upset you earlier, I'm super sorry," You say, tossing a wistful glance over your shoulder. 

Haku smirks, tilting his head. "Upset me? Not at all. Quite the contrary, actually."

"...How's that?"

"I'm delighted to find out that I am immune to the friend zone," Haku explains with a breezy chuckle. 

Your cheeks burn at his comment. He must have been referring to you saying that you'd never reject him. The comment was flippant– made without any thought at all. And maybe Haku wasn't joking about being nervous around you, but was he really being sincere with such a conspicuous statement?

Averting your eyes, you turn your head forward again. "I didn't know that kind of thing occupied your mind," You admit. "Are you dead ass?"

Haku hesitates. "...Would it make you uncomfortable if I said yes?"

Holy cow, this was actually happening? You always thought Haku was cute and had harbored a little crush on him for quite a while. Considering the severity of your curse and all the unknowns that come with it, you really hadn't seriously considered romance. Didn't Professor Hyde strongly advise against it, too? 

"Sorry, you can forget I said that. It's totally irresponsible for me to be putting something like that on you," Haku pushes out an apology, likely having taken your prolonged silence as an answer.

You stop in your tracks and turn to face him, wearing a reassuring smile. "I was just thinking, that's all. You didn't make me uncomfortable."

Haku smiles abjectly as he rubs his neck. "That's a relief."

Swallowing away your anxieties, you take a deep breath before speaking again. "Jiro will be expecting me soon, so we may have to talk more about this later. But to be clear, you're saying you like me? Like... not platonically?" 

Haku holds your gaze and he nods with conviction. The faintest hint of pink dusts over the vice-captain's cheeks as he slips his thumbs in his pockets. "Yeah. I probably could have timed this better, but since you're asking– I may as well be transparent. I think very highly of you, truthfully."

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest and you feel as if you could melt into a puddle of mush from that doting look on Haku's face. It was probably dumb and totally unnecessary, but you have the urge to get further clarification. The uncertainty you feel has to be a result of being so accustomed to his glib way with words. 

"So, like... you know when I say not platonically I mean like, um..." You stutter, finding it to be increasingly more difficult to hold his gaze. "You w-want to do stuff like go on d-dates, hold hands... kiss?" The pitch in your voice increases at the last bit of criteria. 

Haku laughs a bit and he nods reassuringly. "Yeah, definitely. That about checks all the boxes for non-platonic relationships." Haku brings a finger to his lips in deliberation. The corners of his hazel eyes crinkle with mirth and you just know he's about to embarrass the shit out of you. "Well, not all..." Haku drawls, correcting himself. 

A nervous laugh stumbles awkwardly out of your mouth. "Anywho...! Gotta go help patients or whatever, haha! I think this is far enough, you know your way out!" You spin on your heel and head back from where you came. Not bothering to turn around, you call back to him, waving your hand in the air. "Talk to ya later, Haku! Text me, or something!"

Haku snorts, returning the gesture with a wave of his own even though you can't see it. "I'll do that, (Y/N).”

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Sugar kisses

People's memories can be linked to places, smells or textures, today you attempt to awaken Jiro's memories with sweets!

Wc: 1,1k

Note: wrote this kind of quickly to see if he would come home after getting a fic like Leo

Update: he didn't.

When you found out Jiro was able to eat normal food when you fed him, Nicolás would have guessed that he would show some sliver of emotion and be interested in tasting different things without his body rejecting it but it seems like you found it more fun than him.

“So you are saying the inspector asked you to bring more candy? Why is it weird? Halloween is approaching”

Bentai downed his whiskey before swiping the glass towards Rui and looking at him “but you had to see how funny they looked dragging one of your ghouls around ugh… the tall one with scars? What was his name…” his words slurring together after his third drink.

“Jiro? Mhh… they must want to make him try new flavors”

“How cute! Another couple on campus that will buy things for valentine's and white day! Let's cheer for that, Rui two on the rocks in my tab” and the blond just smiles and serves the drinks.

.✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. .✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦.

“You seem to be really interested in this” Jiro says absentmindedly before chewing on the candy corn you were pushing against his lips, his tongue is soon drowned in sickly strong sugar caramel-like taste he quickly swallows.

“You just told me you never ate sweets, I-”

“I said I don't remember eating them since I woke up, it's likely I have eaten when I was younger but can't remember”

“Then maybe you could remember something if we try enough” he nods at your logic, there could be a probability he remembers something before his comma, even if it's unlikely. Twisting around to grab your notebook your eyes watch expectantly “so? Anything?” it's endearing how you got a whole new notebook just to record his reaction to the various sweets, writing earnestly his opinion even if it wasn't more than a word.

“It's too sweet for me” is all he says before returning to the microscope, examining tissue from an anomaly. It isn't until you whine in disappointment that he looks to the side and sees you pout “it's originated from America, I doubt I would have tasted it before. Maybe a more traditional sweet would be more likely” even if he had a pessimistic forecast for this, Yuri already attempted to at the time with no results, seeing your determined smile made a nice feeling of lightness settle between his ribs.

If candy corn was too sweet and he disliked how fudge stuck to his teeth, something about cavities and it being annoying to clean, then what could he like… After some thinking, Zenji’s voice booms in your head ‘and when Jiro was a baby his cheeks were as pink and full as strawberry dango!’ He even took his time following after you when you were buying candy, telling you all kinds of stories he remembers about Jiro that could be useful (even if he didn't remember him having a favorite food). Haku even seemed sad when you returned him his ghost.

“Let's try dango” luckily a Hotarubi student agreed to make you a batch of hanami dango even if he thought it was weird as it wasn't anywhere near Sakura watching season “open wide~”

And Jiro, ever so agreeable, turns around from his almost finished investigation and does as asked biting into the soft rice cake while gently holding your wrist between his thumb, pointer and middle finger. At first it was weird how he never had his full hand around you or refused to play wrestle ‘I don't want to hurt you accidentally’ he would say and you would smile, he couldn't possibly be strong to hurt you just having his hand around you, or so you though before seeing him snap an IV drip in half because he held it too tightly.

“Do you like it?” The question slips a few seconds after he starts chewing hoping he would have an opinion other than ‘too sweet’ or ‘fine’ but his expression -or lack of- tells you that he doesn't love it or even feel strongly about it, just like all the other candies you bought for the mini picnic date.

Still, hope is the last thing that gets lost, so you get him to try the other flavors he might possibly like more. Second flavor, no reaction “well, even if we don't find one you like I can see your cute face! Your cheeks are as round as mochi~!”

At the comment he stops chewing. Everyone would have guessed he caught his partner's compliment, but of course Jiro didn't and thought they wanted to eat “If you are hungry you can eat it, I don't mind”

“Eh? If you don't like it just tell me, I also got other types and-”

“My stomach won't really agree with it”

“Is it rejecting food again?? I will call Yuri”

“No… I'm just not used to eating so much yet” ah, it makes sense, he hasn't really eaten anything solid for a year without puking it out.

Defeated, you sit on the table beside Jiro, feet kicking the air while you pour the sweet soy sauce over the mitarashi dango. Having failed at both targets, making him remember Zenji and finding a food he likes, ruined your mood for the day

Without much hunger but not wishing to waste food you start eating until a deep voice breaks the silence.

“Why are you so insistent on this?”

“What do you mean?”

“insistent on getting my memories back”

“I just think it's sad” teeth dig into the rice cake drenched in syrup and tear it into small pieces that are easier to eat without much care for the string of liquid sliding down the corner of your mouth “If I were to forget my family and friends and all my experiences… It would be depressing”

Jiro mumbles something that is quite hard to make into a sentence because of the volume and how close the words are together “did you say something?”

getting your face closer to his in an attempt to understand his scarred hand grabs your chin and plants a kiss just where the candy was.

His eyes light up with impish joy and a boyish laugh escapes from his lips just like when he scares you or Yuri “you are really jumpy, how cute” his tongue collects the remnant sauce from his lips to the inside of his mouth.

Without a care about your warm cheeks he gets up from the chair and walks off to the door to deliver the paper but teases with a light smile “I don't truly mind not remembering anything before waking up, but if you care so much we can make new memories together”

[zukkacore]

As much as I want True Believer Jace to be real I do believe his biggest crime in the eyes of Brennan is probably being kinda complacent and cowardly. I’m very convinced the explanation for why he’s team Porter is going to be very underwhelming and mundane. However, this too is yuri. The mundanity of the very probable “I got strong-armed into it and was afraid of oblivion” is not enough to dissuade me and in fact not to be real for a minute but being given a sense of purpose and hierarchy is a big reason many people turn to religion in the first place because it soothes them of uncertainty even if the the hierarchy fucks them personally over. Jace kinda got Fantasy Pascal’s Wagered into being a believer whether he likes it or not & is that not toxic old man yaoi in its own way

Come with me. Hold my hand. This isn’t the first time I’ve romanticized the “aimless undisciplined person looking for purpose idolizes the person so single-minded in their aims it’s awe-inspiring and terrifying and enviable” dynamic and it won’t be the last

[the-kr8tor]

May I have Bitter Orange in a ⭐ bottle please? The start of R and Hobie being handcuffed together before they turned, with R succumbing to the effects of the virus much faster than Hobie due to his spiderpowers, so for a bit he just watches his love become a husk of who they were before he too is a zombie?

*laughs evily* Yessss I've been waiting for a request exactly like this hwjsjwijsjaj hope you like it!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.2k (whoops)

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), description of illness, TW blood, CW injury, TW death, zombie AU, Zombie apocalypse AU. Angst, Hurt/comfort

A prequel to this one shot

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

The air is nice and cool on your face as you walk hand in hand with Hobie in the barren street. There's rows upon rows of abandoned houses, all in different stages of decay from both scavengers trying to survive and time itself proving to be the worst enemy. But it's on your side for now for it has given you infinite time to be with him.

Hobie's hand is suddenly on your scarf, fingers gingerly sliding the fuzzy material up to your chin. He smiles at you, the sun blindingly light behind him. Despite the apocalypse, he still looks just as handsome. He has new shallow scars on his chin where a stubble is slowly growing, hair a bit of a mess but beautiful nonetheless. You've once told him after a lucky find of one whole pound of chocolate pudding that he's apocalypse chic, that he makes the end of the world look good. To which he laughed and shoved a spoonful of chocolate pudding in your mouth. Compared to him you probably look like a mess, you wouldn't know, you've ignored mirrors ever since you ran out of shampoo a few days ago.

“What are you thinkin' ‘bout, gorgeous?” He tugs you closer to him, the crowbar hanging from his backpack clinks against the machete next to it.

“That I really need shampoo, and that you look unfairly handsome in this light.”

Chuckling, he intertwined his fingers around your own. It could mean death for the both of you if the undead suddenly lunges and he doesn't have enough time to take his hand away from you. But he thinks it's alright for him to do, to indulge himself to your touch since the entire place is empty save for a few dead cars and scattered luggages left by people.

“You should see yourself in my eyes, lovie, the greasy hair is doin' a lot for me.”

“Oh yeah? You like it when you pat my head and you get petrol on your hand?”

“We need petrol, d’you think if I bunch up your hair and squeeze it I can collect the oil?”

You nudge him playfully, “you're an ass.”

“Yeah, well, you're stuck with this arse.”

Your mind goes back to your friends and family you've left behind. “Do you think they're okay?”

“'m sure they are, Yuri's got them, and they have Ned, he'll whip them into shape. ‘sides, we're almost at James’, if I was them I'd stay there.” He adjusts his hold on his pack and guitar. “We'll find them.”

You smile, nuzzling his bicep for his own reassurance, knowing that he also worries for them. “You're right. They're probably doing better than us.”

“Yeah,” he pecks the crown of your head. “They're living like kings, I bet.”

You two stop in front of a large house, complete with white marble steps and tall roman columns. “James' dad never had taste, huh?”

Hobie snorts, “his son took all of it. C’mon, then.” He leads you on the porch, trying the door, wishing that it was locked because if it is it means that someone's inside, that they're surviving and waiting for the two of you. To his despair, the door opens without a problem.

Hobie looks back at you having the same expression. “It's okay,” you try to be optimistic, “maybe they left a message for us.”

He nods, “yeah, maybe.” Crossing the abandoned space, he takes his guitar from his back to strum a tune. When he doesn't hear stumbling or any rattling from anywhere inside the house, he continues forward, but his guard is still up. “We might as well get some supplies while we're ‘ere.”

“Yeah, there might be some left in here.” You give him a small smile. “How about we split up? This place is too big, it'll take us forever to comb over this place.”

Hobie considers it for a moment. The place seems pristine except for the furniture and cabinets that are picked clean, so he deems it safe. “Okay, just…” you walk to his side, rubbing his arms, smiling sweetly at him even though he probably doesn't smell the best. “...keep your knife close.”

“I will keep my knife close,” you repeat his words, “and I'll stay alert.” Poking at his chest, you peck the frown off his lips. “And you keep safe.”

He's still apprehensive, but he knows you can hold your own. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you fully, smooching until you're giggling. “We’ll meet back ‘ere in fifteen.”

“Aye, aye, Cap'n!” You mock salute. “Any special requests?”

“Chocolates.”

“I said a request, not wishful thinking.” You tease, he has an urge to kiss you again.

“Towels, the nice fluffy ones.” You slide your hands away from him, to which he already longs for.

“Got it! I bet James has a ton of them.” You wink, knife in hand, walking away from him.

Hobie watches your retreating back, tamping down his anxieties. He searches upstairs, grinning at James' familiar room. His posters and messy floors remain untouched, the bed still looking like it was tossed around by a tornado. He almost cries at the picture frame on the bedside table containing his band's smiling faces plus you who's embracing him.

Turning the frame around, he takes the picture and pockets it to show to you. After rummaging James' room, he takes a few shirts and pants for him and you. He even finds a pair of silk pajamas that he knows you'll love. A piercing scream echoes around the house, he immediately bolts downstairs, heavy footsteps thudding across marble floors.

You're on your back, fighting for your life while the undead on top of you tried to get a chunk out of you. It all stops when Hobie's guitar connects to the corpse's skull in a sickening crunch of metal and bone.

You scramble away, neck and arm in pain. Hobie's wide eyes meet yours just as when the back door bursts open, revealing a whole horde of the undead. Panicking, he yanks you up, holding your hand, running outside to more of the shambling dead.

“Fuck!”

“Hobie!”

“Just hold on!” His hand is tight around yours, you try to run at his pace, panic in your veins, adrenaline in his.

It feels like you've been running forever, Hobie sees an opening hidden in an alley. He can climb on his own without a ladder but you can't. So he leads you towards the empty alley while the rotten, decayed corpses of once human beings run after you at full speed.

Hobie jumps to take down an emergency ladder, without missing a beat, he grabs your waist and throws you on the ladder. You climb, but the pain in your arm gets worse so you're slower but you still try for him.

The undead finally gets to the alley, you don't dare to look down. Once you're on the rooftop, you peek below to see him struggling to get up the ladder, he's halfway with a handful of zombies dangling on his leg.

You scream his name but it's too late, one of the undead has bitten a chunk of his leg as he tries to kick the former human off the ladder where he's desperately trying to climb to. You wish he didn't run out of web fluid, you wish the world didn't end, you wish the throbbing pain on your arm is just muscle spasm, but the warm crimson seeping out of teeth marks says differently.

With a sickly crunch, the zombie falls down the ladder and into the rotten horde. Hobie climbs up quickly back to you, hands immediately grasping on to you.

“Did it get you?!” You yell, still in denial, frantically checking in hopes that his boot saved him. Your heart falls into your stomach at the sight of broken skin, blood staining your fingers where you hold the hem of his trousers away to get a better look. You're frozen on the spot, tears clinging to your lashes. “Hobie,” you gasp, taking off your scarf to make a makeshift tourniquet around and above the bite. “Fuck—!”

“You okay?!” He does the same to you, heaving, ripping off your sleeves like a madman trying to find the secrets hidden in your skin. He prays that he finds none. His eyes widen, terrified, broken hearted, shaking his head, refusing the fact that you're infected. “No,” he shakes his head again, closing the torn up cloth around the slowly rotting wound. “It's just a scratch, love, y-you’re not—”

“Hobie…” you smile bitterly, eyes mirroring his own. He rips the hem of his shirt, using the cloth to wrap it around your arm, just above the wound in an attempt to stop the spread. He ignores the stinging pain on his leg. “Hobie, stop, it's—”

“We can still stop it!” He yells desperately, tying the cloth tightly. “It's just a scratch.”

“Hobie, please.” You hold his trembling hands, “it has been ten minutes.” He refuses, you squeeze his hand weakly, the virus already taking hold. Slowly killing you. “And—” with trembling hands, you show him the gaping bite on your neck, oozing dark decaying blood. He choked on a sob. “B-but there's a chance for you, your abilities might've made you immune—”

“No, if you're goin’, ‘m goin’” He stands up, not giving up on you. “There's a chemist’s ‘ere, maybe if w-we…” he puts on a brave face amidst the impending doom and rotten flesh that stings his nose. “Maybe there's somethin’ there.” Hand reaching down, you smile up at him, orange and pink hues from the sky dancing around your face. “C-can you get up?” His voice breaks, chest heaving. “I can carry you. Don't make me carry you, love.”

You slide your hand onto his own. “Hobie,” your voice is soft above the mindless groaning below. His eyes beg you to move. So you do. “Okay,” with a single word, you bring him hope.

With divided effort, you both make it towards the roof of the pharmacy. He was uncharacteristically silent the whole way, but his hand never left yours. His eyes never met with your wounds that's slowly festering. You feel it inside you, the fever, the virus that's eating at you, spreading throughout your body, gnawing at every bit of your warmth like a seed taking root. Hobie feels it too, he's terrified that you're experiencing it too. It's his worst fears came to life only because he wasn't fast enough.

Opening the creaky door, he hopes that it's devoid of the undead. Like he's not on the brink of eating flesh, he does his usual prep. He strums his guitar softly to attract any walking corpses waiting behind doors, when none comes out, he cracks the door wider. With his torch, he lights up the way. But he doesn't feel your presence behind him.

Looking over his shoulder was a mistake, he finds you hunched over the doorway, groaning quietly, nails clawing at the throbbing wound around your neck. That's the moment he knew that you'd go out before him. For the first time, he curses his gifts.

Slowly, he crosses the distance towards you, shaking hands grasping your shoulders. You're warm, incredibly warm. “Love?” He could cry, but he doesn't want you to see his sorrow.

You sniff, tears streaming down your face from the pain and the tragedy of it all. You've accepted that you were infected, but not him, you'd take the virus from him too if you could. “I'm s-sorry, so fucking sorry. I should've—”

“Oi, none of that, yeah? You're gonna be fine.” He says it to convince himself. “You'll be back on your feet tomorrow and by then we'll see Yuri and the others.” Nodding, he takes you by your arm, careful of making your wounds worse. There's blood sticking to his clothes, seeping through his clammy skin. He hates the fact that it was yours. Bringing you behind the counter, you almost keep over. “I've got you, I've got you.” He says it against your temple like a prayer.

“H-Hobie.” You sob, salty tears marring your pretty face. “I can't— it hurts.” The gnawing feeling gets worse, as if a chainsaw is ripping you apart from the inside. “It's so hot, I–I can't breathe.”

“O-okay, I'll set you down ‘ere, get you comfortable. There's some fever meds over there. It'll help.” His hazel eyes pleads for anyone, anything that'll help you. He helps you sit down, and you immediately lie down on the cold tiles. “Do you want a blanket?”

“N-no,” you're hot and cold at the same time. “I don't know.” You look up at him, he sees the light in your eyes fading. “I don't feel so good, Hobs.”

Hobie could only look away from you, inhaling, exhaling but it doesn't feel like he's breathing right. He kneels down, setting his guitar next to you, palm placed on your forehead. “This is nothing, love.” He tries to smile, but fails. “Remember when you had the flu?” You nod weakly, “you were a fuckin' beast, you beat it on your own in just a few days.”

Even though you feel your heartbeat going faster and then slowing down in a weird rhythm like a heartbeat monitor going haywire, you smile for him. “I was, wasn't I?”

He rubs your bicep, under his touch, he feels your muscle twitch. “Yeah, you still are.”

You chuckle softly, tears sliding down your cheeks and into the cold tiles. “Okay, get me the meds.”

“That's my girl,” laying his forehead atop yours, he hopes that he'll take your pain away with the simple gesture, but it's futile. “I'll be back, I promise.”

“Don’t make me wait.”

Smiling, he squeezes your arm. “Never.” Standing up, he rummages through the entire place for the pills you need. Crouching down to check under the broken shelves, climbing up on the walls to get a bird's eye view, and all the while ignoring his own pain. It's slim pickings, but he manages to find a single bottle of tylenol that has rolled under a shelf, it's not enough, but it'll do.

With a victorious sigh, he quickly makes it to the counter, rounding the corner, he sees you wheezing, catching your breath and with blood leaking out from your eyes and ears. “No, no, no!” He takes you in his arms, making you sit up. “I've got the meds, love. Oi, open your eyes for me.” You crack one eye open tiredly. “That's it, good job.” He almost cries when you smile at him through the thick fog of illness.

“G-good job,” you murmur, he doesn't know if you're delirious or you're congratulating him for finding the medicine.

“Bottoms up.” He brings two pills to your mouth, to which you gladly take. Giving you his canteen, you drink most of it, downing the tepid water. “That's good, see, you're already gettin' better.”

You shake your head weakly, barely opening your eyes. “Thanks to you, Hobie.”

“Yeah, thanks to me.” He tries to joke but it comes out choked when blood still leaks out of your tear ducts. Sitting next to you, he now feels his temperature rise so he takes the same amount of pills as you.

You lay your head on his shoulder, hand shakily reaching towards his own. “I'm sorry.”

He almost breaks down at your apology. “Nothin' to apologize for, love.” Meeting your hand halfway, he intertwined his fingers with yours, you're cold now, frozen under his hold. “D’you want that blanket now?”

“Please,” you wheeze out.

Hobie obliges, taking a thick blanket from his pack and then draping it around you as if it'll protect you from the infection. “There, nice and cozy, eh?”

“Thank you,” he feels your crimson fall down on his collar. “For everything.”

“None of that, Y/N, please. None of that.”

“I still want to talk to you.” Your voice is soft and small. “I still want to stay with you.”

Hobie brings your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly. “And we will be, after this—” a sob escapes from him. “After this, we'll be together, yeah? Just like how we talked about.”

“Forever and ever?”

His tears flow freely, “yeah, forever and ever.” After a beat of silence, he fears the worst. “Love?”

You cough, he sighs in relief. “Still here, Hobs, not leaving yet.”

“Not yet,” embracing you, he lays his chin atop your head, you're made comfortable in his hold. Home, you feel like you're back home in his houseboat, watching a shitty romcom while he rambles on about his patrol. You want to be back there again. He wants to be back there again. “Can I say somethin'?”

You hum into his chest, squeezing his hand tighter but your sickness, he barely felt it.

“I don't want to…” he could barely say it. “I don't want to kill you. ‘m sorry, I know we talked about it—”

You lean up, he's met with milky eyes, he knows you can barely see him now. “Then don't, I don't want you to—” you pause, clinging to humanity. “— to feel that before you go.”

Nodding, he kisses your forehead, crying, weeping into your skin. “I couldn't save you, ‘m so fuckin' sorry, love, ‘m so sorry.” He shakes, you gather enough strength to embrace him and bury yourself in his chest, letting his scent waft around you for comfort.

“Don't apologize, nothin' to apologize for.”

He sniffs, peppering your face with heavy weakened kisses. “Oi, don't use my own words against me.”

You smile against the rough leather of his jacket. “Can I say something?”

“Go,” he can practically see the countdown. “We have all the time in the world, love.” There's something warm leaking out of his eyes and ears. He's catching up to you.

You'd laugh but you can feel your life slipping through your fingers. “When we turn, I don't want us to be separated.”

“What do you propose?” He tries to inhale but he could only let out a sickening cough.

“Tie our hands together…really tight.” Your words fade away, but you still hold on.

“I've got rope here, I can do it now.”

“But I'll turn first, Hobie, I-I might—”

“It'll be my honour to be your first meal.”

“I'd laugh if we weren't dying right now.” Eyes too tired to open, you feel the rough rope around your wrist, and the unmistakable sound of a knot getting tied. You smile for the last time when you feel his fingers wrap around your own. “I love you.”

“How's that? Too tight?” He whispers close, he feels you slipping away, “Y/N? Love?” he breaks down when your hand falls limp around his own. “Not yet, please, not yet.” He holds you, rocking you back and forth like a babe needing to be held. Your heart doesn't beat in sync with his anymore. “C’mon, not yet, we still have to find the rest of the band, right?” His eyes cloud over, cold taking root inside his entire body. “Say somethin’, fuck!” He yells with all his might, “I love you, fuck, please wake up.”

Closing his eyes, he wraps you in what's left of his warmth. “Don't go, please.” Hobie pleads and cries until he can no longer breathe the same air as you. His last thoughts were of you.

[pissterdaniel]

TIT AUCKLAND FINAL RECAP

the spoilery stuff is at the bottom of the post, the rest is safe

Since June there has been a discord server going for everyone at the Auckland show. It was amazing to make so many friends before even going to the show. We all got to know each other in the months leading up to the event. Super cool!

We all met up for lunch before the show to hang out and exchanged our crafts. (craft haul x) It made me so happy to see people excited to meet Carlos and my dolls :).

@peter-must-die with his amazing shirt holding Carlos

We made our way to the KTK theater, and I bought some merch. Literally shouted when I opened my photocards to see BLONDE QUIFF PHIL!!!!!! :O

I came PREPARED for my meet and greet, had an agenda broken down into 3 steps. I had been overthinking this for months and have lost so much sleep from tit anxiety. The plan was very helpful! I was revising it in the line.

My hands were totally full. Sister Daniel kept on escaping my grip, we think she was trying to run away. I also recall repeatedly doing my Christophe Giacometti (from yuri on ice) impression in the line.

In the meet and greet line I discovered that I randomly have a lot of upper body strength 😅. I was giving out VERYYY tight deep pressure hugs to people who wanted them. It was very calming. I also got a stopwatch out and we did some 4/4/8 breathing. Then our time was almost up, and WE COULD SEE DAN.

I filmed Max's meet and greet for them first. So that was good getting to spend a minute or so in front of Dan and Phil before it was my turn. I had briefed Max on my agenda, so they knew exactly what to do. My full meet and greet post with photos and the video are here (x). THANK YOU SO MUCH @shitwheresfoxy FOR BEING THE BEST GLAMOUROUS ASSISTANT EVER!

Phil did not seem like a human. I stupidly told him he was like an animatronic robot. He is just SO BEAUTIFUL IT DOESNT SEEM REAL. You need to understand, PHIL LESTER IS SO ETHERALLY GORGEOUS IT IS OUT OF THIS WORLD!!!!!!!! He's just so 🥰. No wonder Dan can't stop looking at him like that in the videos. I get it now.

Dan definitely led my m&g, and I've heard others say this too. He does most of the talking, offers to take the photos, and he had the biggest reactions to things. I made him cackle a few times and I will wear that like a badge of honour. Some other highlights include:

Dan's first reaction to Carlos "uhh.. what?"

Dan's crab hands in our selfie

Dan talking to my camera whilst I fetched something from Max

Their first reaction to my dolls

Phil waving and saying bye to me

BONUS 1 MINUTE AND 39 MINUTE VIDEO OF PHIL HOLDING CARLOS, THIS MEANS THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE TO ME

I am slightly embarrassed about how excited I got, I went a bit nuts. Told them Carlos was "the love of my life" 🤦. Was completely hyper after the m&g, had major zoomies and couldn't calm down. That's when we caught up with the silver VIP people from the server.

@totally-srs-all-the-time made this STUNNING bedsheet cape and wanted to put it on me to have mega bed sheet titfit. Only when she held it up to me, I thought she was wanting to use it as a weighted blanket to calm me. So I lay on the floor 😂, she still put it on me and got this pic.

Met the phiwi backpack too!!!

I recorded our preshow and put it on youtube (x). Can't believe Olly's figure skating question was answered! That was wickedly cool. There is a very small group of us who got SUPER into ice skating these past couple of months. So to have our niche acknowledged by Dan himself was PHENOMENAL.

We all danced to HOTOGO, @einsteinfrizz 's amazing video from the balcony can be found here (x)

And then it was time for the show.

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!

I took notes during intermission and after the show of what I remembered.

Our conspiracies were:

Toilet, Clothes, Bus, and Vegas

"They share clothes." Went on about how their nipples touch the same cloth and did weird nipply gestures.

Lawyer Dan banned Australia, wrote erotic fanfiction about Gollum, and went to jail for killing phil. (Phil then said "hopefully he was not a CEO" and everyone CHEERED SO LOUDLY FOR AGES. They were both caught off guard by the big audience reaction, and it seemed like Dan was genuinely surprised/shocked that Phil said that.

Linguist Phil's favourite word was 'perky nana', he liked to help old ladies cum, and had a secret collection of lesbians.

Phil's 1 minute improv was on stationary. He thought the person said penis, but he changed it to pens, and then decided to change it to stationary. He told a story of how he had a cola scented gel pen and would fill in an entire page and just sniff it.

Early on in the show Phil thought he swallowed a fly and started choking. He then yelled for a "minion" to fetch him water. Dan was taken back by this and it was about a minute before a crew member walked on with his water bottle.

(I'm sensing this show is a lot of Phil saying off-script random shit and dan being shocked by him. Which honestly checks out.)

"Jesus but more shippable" IM SORRY WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY DAN

Phil said reject modernity embrace tradition correctly.

They still think the phanniversary was "last month."

Everyone yelling "gay" together in unison was so healing.

Phil messed up the song lyric again and said "I got the tattoo" instead of "you"

SISTER DANIEL HOLY FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN. I was in the 4th row on the left side which is where she stood. I knew all the spoilers going into it BUT NOTHING COULD HAVE PREPARED ME. I screamed at the top of my lungs when I first saw her come out. I AM SO THANKFUL FOR THE PRIVILEGE OF GETTING TO SEE HER IN PERSON I WILL NEVER TAKE THAT FOR GRANTED. She is so AAAH. Religious, eye-opening experiences were certainly had. AND SHE WAS IN DOC MARTENS. I'm never gonna be able to put into words how feral she made me.

I would say that I was very familiar with the show content before I got there. But in reality, everything was 100x weirder than I thought it would be. I mean that in the best way possible!!! Dnp were OFF. THE. RAILS. They were still the same people you see in the videos, but uncut and UNLEASHED.

AND THEN THERE WAS THE FACT THAT I WENT HOME WITH AN ACTUAL PROP?!?!?!

At the end of the show, I rushed to the front of the stage to steal the confetti. (I'm a hoe for collecting show confetti, I did the same thing at WAD).

Whilst I was collecting confetti and taking pics of Carlos, one of the stagehands came out a few times, handing out the Australian props to random people standing at the stage.

THIS IS THE GREATEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME!!! Here are some close-up photos I took of Obi Wan, and a video of what he can do (x). I walked into TIT with a Sister Daniel and Father Philip doll, and I came out of TIT with Phobi Phan Phenobi.

I also got one of the role model or no-le model cards, it is blank on the other side apart from their signature.

I also got to get up and close with other people's props. I even got to play Max's ukulele. I played the TIT song and I can tell you first hand that that thing was VERY out of tune. I know Dan was only fake playing it, but at least tune it first 😂.

The day after, a big group of us went to Auckland Zoo! Man that was a lot of fun. We signed TABINOFs, and I got a bunchhhh of pics of Phobi Wan, my photo dump is here (x). @spanielt0wel also got a doll, so I made sure to get some photos with them together.

The post-tit depression is REALLLLLL. I miss being surrounded by like minded people. It was so easy to unmask and just be completely myself. I have never felt more like me than when I was surrounded by all the queer, neurodivergent phannies. This was the happiest I've felt in years. So thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who came to talk to me, and to all the friends I've made through the discord 💙.

Now I am back home and terrible influencing up my room cause I never want to forget this amazing experience.

The box frame was inspired by this one

The posters I got signed are looking GOOOOOD. Also Phobi Wan looks so silly sitting with my monster high dolls. I'm gonna treasure him forever. HE MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also thank you to everyone who voted on my poll you've convinced me that #4 is the way to go and I shall be ordering that flag soon.

THANK YOU TIT AUCKLAND