#i think this is my new favourite artwork from you!

[prettieinpink]

HABITS TO IMPLEMENT BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

DAILY AFFIRMATIONS

You can choose whatever time you’d like to say positive and affirmative statements to yourself. When saying affirmations, use the first person and present tense. E.g I am healthy, I take care of myself, and I am strong academically. 

Affirmations are so helpful because our brains struggle to tell the difference between imagination and reality. So, when we visualise ourselves doing something that's not actually happening, it stimulates the brain areas as if we were actually experiencing it.

So, repetitive affirmations will encourage your brain to treat it as fact. While this only works to an extent, it does help with self-sabotaging thought actions and thought patterns. 

EATING MINDFULLY

Eating mindfully is the practice of when consuming anything, you put your full focus on that meal. There are no devices that may distract you, you’re eating slowly and paying close attention to how different meals make your body feel. 

To eat mindfully, focus on the time it takes for you to finish your food. Is it enough time for your body to give signals about your meal? To chew thoroughly? Another thing is to turn off and eliminate any distractions. Such as being on any devices or multitasking. 

Eating too quickly means that your body may not have enough time to tell you that it's full. When you eat mindfully, it's easier for your body to register when it's full. Furthermore, it's easier to distinguish between true hunger and non-hunger triggers for eating. 

CREATIVE OUTLETS

For a lot of us, 2024 was a stressful year. We’re constantly hustling and not letting ourselves process what's happening in and around us. Having a creative outlet helps us to release and detach from those emotions. It allows us to experience that feeling, but leave it all behind in the end. 

Some examples are painting, clay artwork, creative writing, designing, sewing, crocheting and music. There’s a lot more you could do, but ultimately you have to do what's best for yourself. 

LEARNING SOMETHING NEW EVERYDAY

At least one thing each day: aim to learn something completely new to you. Other than the fact that you are learning something new, it allows for your curiosity to grow and expand outside of your typical education institution. With curiosity, comes with the skill of being able to explore complications and come up with solutions. 

There are many ways you can learn, but I think the best way is by coming up with your questions in an area you’re unfamiliar with and then looking for an answer to your question. 

My favourite way has to be watching video essays. Doesn’t always have to be social commentary, but anything that seems interesting enough for me. 

COMPLIEMENT-A-DAY

I love receiving compliments from strangers. It leaves the widest smile on my face and I swear I feel so much lighter like I’m floating around. However, I never think to give a compliment to someone else who I don’t know. So, whenever you see the cutest outfit or the perfect lip combo, make sure to say it!

For those who may be shy in those kinds of interactions, practice saying it in your head. You don’t have to say it out loud to them, but thinking positively of other people will reflect on how you think about yourself. 

That is it for this post, thank you for reading until the end ♥︎ Until next time, take care of yourself ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

[melancholyhigh]

ARTWORK

ft. leon x artist!reader

synopsis. you're an artist, and leon's your muse.

content. 1.5k words. fluff, smut. nude painting, leon's pov, needy leon, praise kink, masturbation, handjob.

note. this was j supposed to be fluff but i got ahead of myself.

masterlist. i love your guy's feedback :3

“Paint me like one of your French girls.”

You laugh at Leon’s statement. He’s perched on the small, green couch in your home art studio, wearing nothing but his pink, fluffy robe as you prepare your oil paints. 

“You’re my first French girl, Leon.”

–-

You had suggested painting him nude while you were both in bed, lazing around. You’re in each other’s hold, Leon’s arms around your waist and face on your chest when he asks about any new projects you had in mind. 

He loves hearing about what art piece you were doing or planned to do. It was how you expressed yourself, whether there was a deeper meaning or none at all. He found it beautiful. Every work you do it had a bit of your personality in it. He could tell your work from thousands by the intricate details they carry. 

When you told Leon you wanted to paint him, he wasn’t too surprised. You mentioned he was your favourite thing to draw or think of when you had art block. The admission had left him sputtering, his face red as he tried to get his words out.

On the third date, you showed him your sketchbook, pages littered with drawings and portraits of him. Some were quick sketches, while other’s looked like you took time to get every detail of him. 

You’re always on my mind, Leon. You had confessed. Was it a little creepy? At that moment, flipping through the drawings of him, the attention to detail they held, he’d say it was romantic.

People have always said he was pretty as a picture, yet you’re the only one that makes his heart beat faster and his tummy fill with butterflies when you say he’s the type of gorgeous you’d find in a painting. 

“A nude painting,” you specify. It was as if you told Leon he was the object of your affection for the first time again. His head buries into your chest, trying to hide his flushed face. You smile at his sudden bashfulness. 

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, baby.” You run your fingers through his soft hair. “I want to try something new, but it’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“‘S fine, angel. But can’t you use a picture?”

“Where’s the fun in that, pretty boy.”

He groans, muffled by your shirt, and you giggle. 

He loves to please you — in more ways than one — and nothing compares to the smile that graces your face, so he agrees. It’s not like Leon’s uncomfortable with you looking at him bare and vulnerable. There were other problems he was worried would interrupt your craftwork. 

–-

Leon leans back into the couch, doing just as you instructed. His bare back hits the soft cushioning, and it’s surprisingly comfortable. 

His robe is off, on the floor next to your easel. He rests his chin on his hand, supported on the arm of the couch.

He’s nervous. You said it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but this almost feels more intimate than being intertwined with you in bed.

Maybe it’s the gaze you hold when you’re analysing him, grasping the compositions and layering basic shapes onto the canvas. 

He can’t help but think of when you told him he’s your favourite canvas to mark up. Sucking the reddish marks into his skin which turn the prettiest shade of purple, as you like to put it. Or when you said the colour on his cheek was your favourite shade of pink.

You always did like to rile him up, muttering the filthiest things to him in the most mundane setting, just like right now. 

“Spread your legs wider, Leon.” You mumble in a casual tone as if you don’t know the implications of your own words. You’re so engrossed with getting your work right you probably don’t.

It’s so fucking sexy seeing you in your element. Your brows pinched together, and your face serious with concentration. 

He obediently listens to you, parting his legs wide, and the problem he wishes wouldn’t happen is currently hardening between his thighs. You don’t notice, mixing paints to ensure it's the correct shade. 

You’re probably 30 minutes into painting, and he’s already hard. You said you’d take a while to finish, and he could tap out whenever he wants to, but he doesn’t want to disappoint. 

Finally, you’re looking up from the canvas and towards Leon. Your brows quirked up in surprise when trying to examine his features, studying the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline to imitate on the canvas. His face is pink, the shade you know and adore so much. 

Your eyes trail down his body, his dick fully erect, slapping against his stomach. Your gaze is on his face again with a smirk on your lips.

He knows, you know, he’s rock-hard simply from the glances you take at him and the words you mutter. His lashes flutter, and he moves his hand to cover his face while the other is shamefully obscuring his cock.

“Be a good boy, and don’t move, Leon. I want to make sure everything looks good.” You say, and he thinks you aren’t going to acknowledge his 7-inch problem.  

“Oh, and make sure your pretty dick is hard for me, okay, baby?” You go back to your painting, trying to hide your smug expression.  

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his nerves, but he relents, going into position, not before giving his cock a firm squeeze. 

“Don’t cum too, okay? I want to be the one making you cry.”

A few hours pass, and Leon is on the verge of tears. He listened to what you said, only providing himself with enough stimulation to keep his cock hard but not enough to tip him over the edge into bliss. 

Precum leaks from the head down to the shaft. His dick is red and spent. He wants nothing more than for you to stop painting and make him cum.

“I’m almost done. You’ve been such a good boy for me, baby.” 

Your words are almost enough to make him spill his cum over the expensive fabric of your eccentric couch. 

You’re adding the finishing touches to the painting with each stroke, making sure you get the placement of each mole or freckle correct and each vein of his cock following to the tip right. 

You swear he belongs in a museum. No art can replicate how beautiful he truly is.

“I’m done.” You sigh, moving to get up to rid your skin of paint. 

After rinsing yourself off the paint, you make your way to Leon. You get comfortable in a seat on the couch right next to him. He’s breathing heavily in anticipation, looking up at you through his long lashes. Pretty, pink lips parted as pretty gasps left him. 

You cup his face, pressing your lips to his. The kiss is soft as you move your lips slowly in unison. He breathes out your name when you pull away. One of your hands moves to his throat, softly squeezing. Leon whimpers, his hands moving to hold your waist.

“Good job, baby. You didn’t cum once. I know it hurts, but I'm going to make you feel better,” you whisper, softly kissing his flushed forehead. 

Your hand moves to his pulsing cock, and gives it a soft squeeze, relishing the whine Leon lets out. Your touch sends goosebumps along his skin, and he plants his head into the crook of your neck. 

His hips eagerly buck into your hold. He’s practically sobbing into your neck, his soft hair tickling the underside of your jaw. You rest your chin on top of his head, smelling the fragrance of his shampoo. 

You thumb the slit on the tip of his cock, using his precum as a lubricant to start moving your hand back and forth on his shaft. 

You start at a slow pace. You don’t want Leon cumming quickly, wanting to enjoy every cry and whimper. 

The soft shlick noise of you jerking Leon’s cock fills the room with his desperate cries. He pulls back away from the crook of your neck, tears flowing down his blushing face.

“Please, please, please, g– go faster, angel. I’ve been such a good boy for you. Let me cum, please.”  He pleads, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. His hips rutted frantically into your palm. How could you deny your boy?

“Okay, pretty baby. Cum for me.” You say softly, picking up the pace of jerking him off.

He whimpers loudly, thighs quivering lightly as his orgasm crashes and hot spurts of his cum spill onto your hand. He’s panting, dazed with lust and staring at you with what seems like hearts in his eyes. 

“T- thank you, thank you, s’much.” Leon gasps like a broken record, and you think he’s fucked himself dumb with your hand.

You peck his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can show you my favourite artwork yet.”

[dearest-nell]

a real piece of art

e.m x reader, 2.8k

summary: eddie has some time to kill, and you might just be his new favourite distration. includes: art history student!reader, meet cute, eddie's an absolute dork warnings: mentions of nudity in artwork and allusions to a young eddie who is very excited by the prospect.

a/n: this came to me as i stared blankly into the void of my coffee machine this morning. i'm incapable of proofreading as per usual. i could be convinced to do a part two

Eddie had no business being here. This was an art gallery for crying out loud! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stepped in one, save that one unfortunate field trip in middle school where he’d been caught ogling a half naked sculpture in front of half the class. Sue him, he’d never seen a naked girl before, and he really had to give credit to the artist because he couldn’t look away. He’d been called a perv for a good year after that, and he’d never thought to visit another gallery again. 

Until now, that was. He was due for a practice and soundcheck in what he thought was only an hour, but somewhere along the line Jeff had got the time wrong, leaving Eddie stuck in Chicago with nothing but his ego to keep him company. Eddie had kicked himself for the mistake – who rehearses at 10 am anyways? There was a silent agreement that Gareth would be handling the bookings next time, where Eddie might be able to actually stay in bed until a reasonable hour. 

He’d thought to burrow down in a cafe for a little while, but the snooty businessmen and shrill giggles of the barista had sent him fleeing. The environment wasn’t conducive to good thinking anyways. He figured a little solace would do him some good, maybe give him some hard earned inspiration to turn into music for the band. So with coffee in hand, he’d taken to the streets, wandering idly as the strings of bodies moved in tandem, dodging and weaving the tracks of Tuesday morning commutes. It might have been enough for him had his jacket not been too thin for the sudden drop in temperature. Worn denim with steamed patches was hardly enough to break the piercing gusts of wind, and even his sweltering coffee in hand could not keep his hands from shaking. Looking around, Eddie felt out of luck. Cafe’s seemed too busy, and he had no real desire to start wandering shops nearby, so what was there left to do? 

$14 later, Eddie puffed a relieved sigh as the warmth of the gallery enveloped him, that trembling cold slowly dissipating from his veins until his hands no longer felt like ice. He figured he’d have taken any sanctuary, though he had been hoping maybe for a Library. At least then he could have bunkered down somewhere with a book. What did you even do at a gallery anyways?  He didn’t see much point in wandering around, scanning his eyes over paintings that seemed a million years old. He didn’t get art. Music was his art, after all. Even as he started to walk, all the pieces seemed to bleed together for him. Acrylics and oils and gouache melted into the blur of faces and places and things. Sure, they looked pretty, but Eddie couldn’t see why anyone would waste their time to sit and paint something like this, let alone stare at it for hours. 

He passed through room after room like this, brows furrowed, arms crossed as he tried to puzzle out the meaning. Music and melody had meaning, lyrics filled with the words people couldn’t seem to say any other way. The sounds of instruments were sounds of heartbeats, of head rushes and blood flow and heart aches and burning desires – paintings couldn’t do that, could they? 

Wandering into a smaller room, Eddie found himself caught as his eyes fixated on perhaps the only worthwhile piece of art he had seen all morning. There you were, perched somewhat uncomfortably on the plush leather seat in the room's centre, head resting delicately into cupped palms, your elbows propping you up into a figure he was sure was only meant for statues. You looked like one of the Greek ones, he thought, all soft and graceful curves, pretty lines and prettier expressions. There was a notebook in your lap, though Eddie couldn’t begin to make out what the blurry pen strokes might have  noted at this distance. 

You seemed so lost in thought as you stared at the piece directly before you, eyebrows knitted in concentration to match the deep set focus of your eyes, and Eddie, despite himself, was lost in you. 

It was a horrifying notion to realise he was back in this same situation again, entirely different and yet all the same. Here he was, stuck motionless, staring helplessly at something beautiful, something entirely foreign to him. Naked breasts had been enough to melt a twelve year old Eddie’s mind, but this Eddie, now grown, was entirely transfixed for another reason. Never in his life had just looking at a person knocked the wind right out of him. This was beyond attraction, he thought. Beyond a pretty face and a beautiful body and all those hormones that made people spin. You were all of that, and so much more. 

How he knew that seemed entirely out of reach, but the thought settled in him all the same. 

Eddie watched the subtle angle of your head, the way you tried to see from a different perspective, before fixating your attention on your notebook once more, scribbling away furiously at stained parchment. 

All better judgement seemed to leave him as he approached, slow and long strides to avoid the echoes of boots against floorboards in such vastness. His body took residence beside the lounge, standing tall at the opposite end, arms crossing as he tried to see what it was that had you so fascinated. 

Cheese. Bread. Nuts of some kind. He tilted his head as you had, browns furrowing in confusion. Still cheese. Still bread. Still nuts of some kind. He let out a defeated huff. 

“Are you okay?” 

He hadn’t expected you to speak, let alone notice him, but when he turned his chin towards you he was met with a curious expression. You were even more captivating up close, as it turned out, so much so that he could not decide what captured his attention more. The soft bags of sleepless nights hung low under your eyes, your cheeks flushed with a dusty sort of colour that only the artifice of candies could achieve, your cheeks indented so delicately with the lines of so many smiles that had come before. 

It was embarrassing in his eyes that he was still gawking, and even more embarrassing that you had to ask your question a second time. 

“Oh– yeah. I mean… yeah. Sorry. Was I being too loud?” 

The soft shake of your head was accompanied by an even gentler smile, and Eddie felt his shoulders ease a fraction away from his ears. 

“No, not at all. Just seemed like a forlorn sigh.” You pointed out, uncrossing your legs to lower your feet to the ground. 

Eddie’s brow raised, his tone lilting with amusement. “Forlorn, huh?” 

You shrugged, though Eddie could see the slow creep of embarrassment flush your cheeks, your hand lifting to rub at it absentmindedly. “Yeah, I guess. It was just the first word that came to mind.” 

Eddie was smiling before he knew what he was doing. “I like it. Forlorn. Like it’s from a poem, or something.” 

A soft hum of contemplation fell from your lips, your pen scratching nervously in the margins of your notebook, patterns of stars falling into the sea of words below. “Could be. Poets are meant to be all crestfallen and stuff.” 

He actually laughed at that, something sounding like a punched out breath leaving him, his eyes crinkling delightfully at the corners. 

“Are you a writer or somethin’? You don’t just hear people saying words like that every day. Gotta know them by trade.” 

You shrugged again, tucking a loose strand of hair behind the curve of your ear. “Student, actually. Art history, so I guess fancy words are part of the curriculum.” 

It seemed strange to be meeting you like this, like someone high above had heard his complaints only to send him an angel to set him straight. An art student; maybe you could teach him a thing or two. 

Eddie gestured to the seat beside you, flat palm dampened nervously at the prospect of speaking to someone so pretty, so much more learned than him. You nodded shyly, not bothering to adjust as he took up the empty space beside you, his elbows propping on his knees for comfort. 

“Can I ask you something, then? Since all of this is your thing.” 

You closed your notebook, folding your legs beneath you once more as you fixated your attention on him – something Eddie was sure no man could ever tire of wanting from you. “Sure”. 

“Why are you staring at this one? Out of all the pictures in this place, what makes cheese so interesting.” 

The astonished little chuckle that left you was something sacred, golden and warm and louder than he had anticipated. You could put that laugh to song. Maybe he would. 

“It’s not the cheese,’ You clarify, your smile never shifting from your lips, “though it looks great, doesn’t it? Looks real.” 

Eddie took in the piece once more, letting his eyes trace over the food to take in the finer details. It was true; it looked real. He could see the shadows, the cracks in the bread, the crumbs that had fallen onto the platter below. He realised it mustn’t have been easy to make something so real. It felt like a snapshot. 

Oh fuck, do I get art now? 

“Yeah, it looks real. Kinda crazy real, actually. How do they get it looking like that?” 

“It’s different for different people. This one’s by Peeters, and no one’s sure where she learned to paint, but she was one of the only female professionally working artists of the 17th century. She was a big deal.” 

Eddie tilted his head towards you. “Is that why you like her, then?” 

You shook your head, scrunching up your nose. “It’s very impressive, but it’s not the only reason. I was looking for her signature.” 

Eddie did not need to clarify himself, the confusion that etched across his face spoke volumes, leaving you to laugh again in amusement. 

“A lot of artists leave signatures so you know a work is theirs. Sometimes it’s their name, or an item, or a seal – sometimes it’s on the back, sometimes it’s made to look part of the picture. She writes her name down at the bottom, see?” 

You leaned in a little closer to Eddie, lining up his gaze with your own so you could point out a flourish of cursive in the corner. Drawn into you, Eddie could not help but lean into your orbit, his eyes following the line of your finger to its destination. “Oh yeah. Musician’s do that too, y’know. Chuck in a riff or a line or something to leave their mark.” 

“Seems like it’s an artist's thing. I think it’s pretty cool.” 

Eddie liked the insinuation that musicians were artists. He’d met too many people in his life who’d thought otherwise, who did not understand the value of art. He supposed he was one of them, though. He’d been ratting on the art around him only five minutes earlier. 

“You like music, then?” He asked, eagerness in his voice betraying the cool persona he was hoping to achieve. 

“I love music.” You confirmed, hands busily occupying themselves by twiddling the pen in your lap once more. “I wish they played music here. Imagine looking at all the art and listening to songs that fit. There’s these big dramatic paintings a few rooms over that are just begging for a rock instrumental to accompany it, and the cheese…” you trailed off, seemingly embarrassed to have been so caught up in the idea. “I feel like I'd be lost in it forever.” 

Eddie closed his eyes for the briefest moment, letting the vision of your little dream settle in his mind. He could get around that, art and music together – two worlds colliding. It seemed all the more enticing to think you would be there too, humming away as you watched the paintings and he watched you. 

“I think it sounds brilliant. You tell me when you’re building this fancy gallery and I’ll be the first one there.” 

He might have died at the sincerity with which you smiled. No heart was meant to withstand such adoration brimming inside of it. 

“You know, I–” you paused, garnering some courage to find the words, “the signature I was talking about before? That wasn’t the one that had me looking at this. The cheese, I mean.” You gestured vaguely towards the canvas before you, though Eddie was unwilling to peel his eyes from the work of art before him. 

“Yeah? What had you looking, then?” He couldn’t believe that for the first time in his life, Eddie actually cared about what was splayed across a canvas. Whatever it was that intrigued you so, he was aching to know. 

“She painted herself in the reflection of the lid on the jug. Up the top… see?” Adjusting the items in your lap, you slowly rose to your feet, extending a hand out to drag the boy up with you. Eddie faltered only for a second, contemplating whether this one single touch would make or break him. Would the sweat of his palms disgust you? He was so nervous to talk to you, after all, to take this chance. He swallowed, slipping calloused fingers into your own until he felt unperturbed digits grasp his own, your expression unphased as you guided him towards the wall. 

You both paused a foot short, your free hand pointing upwards to guide his flittering eyes. Lo and behold, painted so delicately into the reflection of the jug, was a face staring back at him. His hand squeezed your own with untapped excitement, and Eddie’s mouth dropped. 

“Holy shit, that’s so cool. That’s really her?” 

You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah, that’s Clara.”

It was silent for a beat, the two of you soaking in the image before you; the woman in and amongst all the pieces of a life lived so long ago. It was a moment in history, much like the one the two of you were caught in now. 

Eddie marvelled helplessly, unsure what seemed to amaze him more; all these details that he never would have noticed if it weren’t for you, or the fact that you, a complete stranger, were still holding on to his hand as if it were something normal. For the briefest moment, he wondered if this could be normal, you and him. 

“I think this is the ultimate signature in a painting, just writing yourself into the story like that. It’s such a small thing, but… it changes everything, doesn’t it?” You broke the silence, voice a little dream like as you spoke. Eddie could only nod dumbly, a contented smile spreading across his face. 

“You wouldn’t wanna show me more of these, would you?” 

Eddie couldn’t stand the idea that you might walk away after this, back to your own life that until now had been so far away from his own. He wanted to walk the whole gallery with you, your hand in his, your voice whispering sweet nothings about the history and details of the world around you. 

The sheer excitement that crossed your features was an expression unmatched, never before seen. It was like he had asked you the one question you had been waiting for your whole life. Maybe you had been. Maybe no one had ever taken interest in the thing you seemed to love so much. He knew what that was like after all, his music had not been everyone's cup of tea. 

Maybe it could be yours.

“Oh, I– really?” 

“Only if you want to. I spent my whole time here trying to work out what made this stuff so special; I think you might be the one to show me. I’ll buy you coffee as thanks, if you like. I mean… I’d like to take you out for coffee.” 

He felt like a bumbling idiot, pausing to breathe an embarrassed chuckle. “You can also tell me to get lost at any time.” 

Eddie wasn’t sure if you noticed the way your hand seemed to tighten in his own, the movement causing his heart to beat in unsteady rhythms. It was something so small that seemed to shift his entire world – your hand holding his. 

Your head tilted with a smile. “You never said your name, y’know.” 

“Eddie.” He breathed out a little too fast. He’d have to kick himself later for it, because right now, he was too fixated on the way his foolishness seemed to make you smile all the wider. 

“Eddie.” You echoed, turning your body to face his own. “I’d love a coffee.” 

It took everything in him not to fist bump in triumph, his body aching to wriggle with the excitement that was slowly taking over muscle by muscle. How the hell had his morning turned out this good? 

“Sounds like a date, then.”

(images not mine)

“Still Life with Cheeses, Almonds and Pretzels” by Clara Peeters (ca. 1615)

[idrawstuffidk]

Oh ace, oh sweetheart I am so so sorry

Ace reminds me so much of myself from middle school and high school, the anger, the feeling of isolation, the paranoia that everyone is out to get you

It hurts so so badly to feel that way. It’s why Ace was so so important to me. It’s why I loved him so much, because I saw him for who he was, someone who was deeply hurting and lonely and afraid, and he was.

Everyone pushed him to do what he did. Everyone. The only person who didn’t was Levi. Everyone hated him, but the people I blame the most for what Ace did are Veronika, Nico, and Hu.

Hu was so antagonistic towards Ace, so defensive of Nico and so delusional and I hate her so much

Veronika served to scare him further and further and say that he would be the next to die

And Nico, of course, proved her right. They tried to murder him.

What happened to Ace here, no wonder Teruko broke down a bit. It’s exactly what happened to her in the first trial, save for the fact she didn’t kill anyone. They were both almost murdered. They were both traumatized by it, they were both distrusted and hated by everyone during the trial. It’s why she must have wanted him to fight back so much. I hope she comments on that, I hope she thinks about it, I hope she feels something when Ace dies and I hope she is honest about it. I hope he reminds alive in the narrative like Xander and Min, I hope he and Arei both do.

I love Ace, now even more than ever. I cried so hard, I love him. He didn’t deserve this. That being said, I wonder what Teruko’s plan was. She said that the person to kill next would’ve the one who should carry out her plan, since it’s so high risk. I wonder what she will ask Ace to do, I wonder if he will do it.

I want a mini episode for him, I love the artwork of ace, though I do not like the closing argument ending artwork of him, not a fan, he could have looked so much better than that. I love his new sprites too. I love everything about him, really. I think he is one of my all time favourite characters, and he’s going on my “closest to kinning iv’e ever been list” right next to Nikei.

And with all that being said, thank you for reading my ranting and feelings about Ace and why I love him so so so much. And to give an update on how my OC Elenora would be doing: she’s sobbing hysterically. I’ll need to post more about her to make you understand why she is so heart broken

And on that note, I’m going to be writing a fanfiction where Elenora saved Ace because I think she could, it just takes some clever timing. It’s ok, Ace is alive and well with my lovely OC in my happy little universe.

[maxsimagination]

𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝘁 - 𝗼.𝗯𝗮𝘁𝗹𝗹𝗲

summary: yn is a well known tattoo artist, and mapi happens to be her most frequent customer and avid gossiper.

𖦹 masterlist

"𝗠𝗔𝗣𝗜! 𝗠𝗬 𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 living canvas!" i yell out to my favourite customer as she walks into the studio.

"yn! my favourite tattoo artist!" i laugh at her antics. "mapi, i'm you're only tattoo artist. you don't let anyone else near your skin." she poked her tongue out at me and sat in the chair.

"so what are we doing?" mapi pulled her phone out and showed me a sketch that i knew she'd been wanting for a while. while i was getting my products out and cleaning everything, mapi was talking about the latest news with her team, barcelona. "we signed a new player, she's from manchester united."

i knew what mapi was talking about already and i knew the player that had transferred. it was my girlfriend, ona batlle. i was over the moon when she'd told me she was moving clubs to come over to barcelona. owning a tattoo studio doesn't require me to travel a lot so it was mostly long distance, but we made it work.

we face timed and called when we could and texted often. i knew most of her now-teammates through my work, especially mapi. she was my most frequent customer and probably one of my closest friends.

her girlfriend, ingrid, would come along to some of her sessions sometimes and we'd chat while mapi was practically half asleep in the chair. i had also done work with players like alexia putellas, patri guijarro and of course, ona but they didn't know that.

"we played our most recent game with her and she's actually pretty good." mapi was still talking about ona and i sat with a smile while i worked, glad to hear praise for my girlfriend's soccer skills. "i hear she has a girlfriend." that bit caught my attention. "how do you know?" a grin was plastered on my face at her words.

"she has a vibe, a feeling that she's happy with life. i don't know, i just hear things from the girls." it was comical really, how right they were, but i definitely wasn't going to say anything.

we spend about two hours there, me working on mapi's tattoo and mapi talking my ear off about anything and everything. when i'm done, i clean off the excess ink and spread some gel on it before mapi is up and bounding over to the mirror to see her latest artwork.

we finished up and mapi handed me the cash she'd gotten for today. i thanked her and she was on her way. when i closed up for the day i called ona, something we do regularly now that she's in barcelona with me. "hola mi cariño." (hello my darling.)

"hola mi amor. how was training?" (hello my love.)

"bien, (okay) it was just the normal. although the girls kept talking about how they think i have a girlfriend." i laughed at that, it was the same thing mapi had told me about when she was with me. before she went to training.

"they aren't wrong." i laughed. "mapi told me about that today. she said there's rumours your dating someone." we just laugh together at that. it's not like we are trying to hide our relationship from our friends, they just haven't figured it out yet. and when ona was at manchester i would fly over to her, so it wasn't as obvious.

"did you want to go out after? we can go to your favourite cafe?" ona offered.

"por favor, amor. i need to spend time with just you." (please, love.)

we agreed and ona said she'd pick me up from mine in an hour. i lived by myself in an apartment not too far away from the studio. ona tended to hop between living with me and one of her teammates since she's been in barça. i was honestly surprised that none of them have caught on when she wasn't living with them.

as promised, ona picks me up and we drive out to the cafe. it was small and slightly secluded with some tables scattered through the front and down the side.

it was such a pretty place and had the best food i'd ever tasted, i loved it so much. we enjoyed our time together and shared some food before we had to head out. what i didn't expect when we walked out was mapi, waiting, with a semi-tired ingrid in tow.

"i knew it! i knew she was dating someone!" she was almost yelling and had completely shocked both ona and i.

"maria leon! what are you doing?" i used her real name, that got her attention. "lo siento, (sorry) i knew you knew something when i told you during our tattoo session. normally you are all over gossip with the girls, but today you seemed like you already knew about it. it just made me think-" i smiled at how mapi was rambling about how she knew about us. i looked down at ona and she was already grinning at our friend. "-about how happy ona seemed and how you are and-"

"mapi, it's okay. we don't care if people find out about us." mapi stopped talking and looked at us before breaking into a grin. "sorry, thankyou. i think you guys are cute."

we all ended up laughing together, even ingrid who looked like she needed a nap. after we'd caught up mapi and ingrid left to go to their place, while ona went to mine with me. "i guess the rumours were true, onita." i grinned over at her from the passenger seat. she was grinning back at me before responding.

"shut up, amor." (love.) then; "i want you to tattoo me again."

[austinbutlerslovers]

You're my favourite Austin writer on here I think you're amazing!

Please can I ask you to write an Austin x fem reader smut based on False God by Taylor Swift? It's one of my favourite songs and i think its so Austin coded 😭

False God

Label Mature 18+

Summary

Based on the lyrics ‘False God’ by Talylor Swift

Established relationship girlfriend

💝Romantic Smut 💝

passionate foreplay • oral receiving fem•clit play•p in v • orgasms •cream pies

Special thank to the requester. This is the first time I’ve written this style it was very difficult thank you for your patience . 🙏🏻

Master List ••• Upcoming List

False God

Above the bustling streets of vibrant downtown town New York city, you sit in the window of the high rise penthouse apartment you share with Austin. He landed over an hour ago at JFK international and you were frequently checking your phone to see when he would be arriving home to you.

He used to fly you with him to public events but as he became more famous he thought it better you remain out of sight. As his pay increased with his movies he moved you from your shared one bedroom loft to a five bedroom penthouse downtown. When the shopping sprees, vacations and lavish dinners began, so did your insecurities.

You would stare over at him, your once shy timid boyfriend now engaging a table full of his famous costars. He was confident and brilliant, even more beautiful than before.

His charming smile, dazzling blue eyes and perfect features were only enhanced by his new jewelry, clothing, and stylish haircuts of his sandy brown hair.

You tried to stop yourself but you couldn’t help it, you became insecure as his girlfriend. The more he left town the more you checked his name on social media, the later he would stay out for premieres the later you would stay up until he returned.

When he was in town and he was able to spend time with you amidst the chaos of everyday life, you two found solace in each other's embrace.

But deep down you were terrified he would leave you now. He had everything he ever wished for from having nothing when you two first met.

You were a free spirited artist with a passion for painting who worked as a secretary for a famous art studio. You gained notoriety on Instagram as soon as you posted your first official piece which is how you still gain many of your clients. today.

Your job and artwork paid the bills while Austin attended acting classes then. You knew he was special, though he was extremely shy as himself, he blossomed when he was in character. You witnessed his raw talent many nights when he would read scripts in your living room.

You knew without a doubt he would be famous and helped him in every way possible to reach his goal. With his charismatic personality, unwavering love, and passion for sex combined you were head over heels in love with him.

You two met one fateful evening under the glow of neon lights at one of your studios art exhibits in the West Village.

All of the artists were instructed to incorporate clear luminous paint into their work so their creations would glow once the exhibit switched to black light above them for a big reveal.

Austin was there with his friends from theater class because he was a lover of the arts. As soon as the black lights were switched on Austin was drawn to your painting with an unwavering attraction.

He asked immediately if it was possible to meet the artist and your manager called you over. The connection was instant like a magnetic pull drawing you two together as if it were destiny. He was tall, handsome, and shy, his smile flashed when his blue eyes lit up seeing you for the first time and you knew it was love at first sight.

He had long blonde hair then and wore a baggy plaid shirt with a black tee beneath. His skinny jeans and vans giving away he was either an aspiring actor or a musician. As you two delved deeper into each other's worlds, you discovered a shared love for the unconventional, the unspoken, and the untamed.

You brought him back to your apartment immediately after the show. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you; in the cab, the elevator, and even at your front door. Once you fumbled into your apartment he began taking of his clothing.

You waited and watched as he revealed he was hiding the fittest muscled body you’d ever seen beneath his modest clothing. When he mentioned he would be flying to New Zealand to film a show as an elf you were not expecting his body to be the most sexually desirable one you’d ever seen. You were extremely turned on by him.

As he stood fully naked in your living room with his shoulder length blonde hair and his large cock you began to strip off your clothing too.

He smiled and came closer helping you pull off your shoulder straps to drop your dress, then he kneeled down pulling your panties off as you stepped out of them. As he rose to stand taller than you he placed his hand beneath your hair and held the nape of your neck pulling you to him and sinking his lips onto yours in a deeply powerful kiss.

The world around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of pure, unbridled emotion. Austin kissed you passionately as you both felt the sparks igniting between you two. He enjoyed the feeling so much he smiled and began to open his lips onto yours lingering on your kisses with an extreme warmth that turned you on so much you became wet.

“I have …a condom.”he said between kisses “I’m on …birth control.” You whispered back against his lips. Hearing your verbal consent he easily picked you up into his strong arms taking his hands cupping them one at a time under your thighs making you wrap your legs around his waist

He was so strong and the moment was so intense you shivered as he stared into yours eyes. He confidently smiled and you knew he was going to make you his. “Where’s you bedroom “ he asked staring at your lips. Looking closely at his angelic face as he easily carried you made you lose all of your resolve you couldn’t even speak you just pointed the way and he smiled. He knew you were his.

He gently tossed you down on your bed and kneeled between your legs pulling you to the edge. “Can I taste you? “ he asked permission and you nodded eagerly.

With a gentle yet confident touch, he reached his hands up and spread your thighs apart. Your core was already throbbing when he placed his tongue to your folds. He grazed it up and down your sensitive wet folds until it sent a shiver up your spine. Your hands immediately flew to his long hair pulling and tugging it as you praised him.

He leaned in pressing his mouth onto your folds trying to reach the depths of your core with his tongue lapping which sent shockwaves throughout your entire body. His tongue was relentless and electrifying, while his mouth sucked your folds tenderly. With each skilled lick and suck from his mouth you felt yourself surrendering to the overwhelming desire that consumed you.

You tried to calm your imminent orgasm but it was too late. Your legs began to quiver lost in the intoxicating sensation of him eating you out. When he pressed his thumb into your clit and swirled it you gasped. Overcome by the sheer intensity of the moment you orgasmed for him melting into a pool of ecstasy as your core uncoiled. He licked your folds of your cum and trailed kisses as he climbed your body.

Starting from the soft skin of your navel, his kisses moved with a feather light touch, tracing the contours of your waist. With each press of his lips, your skin came alive, electrified by the intimacy.

As he journeyed upward, his kisses grew bolder, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. The warmth of his breath against your skin between kisses sent a rush of heat coursing through your veins, reigniting the fire deep within your core.

His hands cupped your breasts pressing each one with a tender kiss before he rested his chest onto yours. It seemed like time stood still as you stared into each others eyes feeling your hearts beating in perfect rhythm. His lips finally met yours again, and you both knew that this was the beginning of your relationship. Your heart was pounding in anticipation of what was to come

His fingers Intertwined with yours on the sheets before he lifted his hips and gently thrust into you. The pleasure of his large cock was exquisite. You arced your back as he stretched you out and filled you with his passion. Each of his thrusts carried the promise of so much more as he hit depths you never knew existed . It dulled the ache of your sexual desire and refilled it with an overwhelming sense of longing for him, only he could fill you this way.

With each thrust your bodies mingled together feeling your connection growing stronger with the sounds of your moans filling the air. As you reached your peak he looked into your eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored the same affection you had for him. Without a word he cupped your face in his hands wanting to gaze into your eyes knowing you he felt the same.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the weight of his gaze, a silent admission between you two. And in that moment, you knew that you wanted nothing more than to lean in and lose yourself in the depths of his desires.

With a soft moan your walls fluttered as Austin thrust into your body and you came for him closing the distance between you two. His lips met yours with a tender kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. In that fleeting moment time stood still and the world around you faded into obscurity as he came in you too and you melted into each other's embrace.

Wrapped in the warmth of each other's arms after you both orgasmed, you surrendered to the enchantment of the night. Your fresh new love painting the canvas of the universe with hues of passion and promise.

You lay naked and cuddling together whispering and sweet nothings into the night, knowing that this was just the beginning of your fated love story written by the universe.

But this love story was not without its challenges. Insecurities and doubts always lingered in the shadows, threatening to overshadow your bliss.

Austin thought you would leave him for a wealthy patron from your gallery in the beginning when he was struggling to find work. The arguments were like hell and you almost quit your job.

Now you feel that he will leave you for a famous actress or model having seen the more extravagant side of life. Seeing him on more than one occasion lingering and hugging females to closely at events you dared him to leave you.

But just like the calm after a storm on an ocean separating you two, the tensions dissolved and peace reigned once again. One of you would always bring the wine out which would start the flow of tender reconciliation, where words were replaced by gentle touches and heartfelt apologies.

Hearing Austins key turning in the lock surprises you, he didn’t text he had arrived before entering, but as he opens the door you rush to greet him. He is holding a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. He looks ravishing with his short sandy blonde lightly layered in waves.

Your lips meet as you embrace and your kisses are filled with passion and longing. He brings his hand to gently cradle your face and just his simple touch sends waves of warmth coursing through your body. “I missed you so much baby” he says finally breaking the kiss .”I missed you too austin.“ you say smiling.

Austin hands you your beautiful flowers. “I’m so sorry I’m late I had to get these for you I know they’re your favorite. Will you put them away while I shower then come into the bedroom.” He says pulling your head to his lips planting another kiss as he smiles “Yes of course Austin.” You say sweetly.

You do as he says washing them and finding a vase filling it with water. Next you carry the flowers in the vase and place them on the dining room table.

You enter the bedroom and Austin is still in the shower, you can hear his melodic voice singing and it makes you smile.

You hear his singing stop as he turns off the water and you strip down to your bra and panties in anticipation for him to come out of the shower.

The master bathroom door opens and you look at Austins body with a towel wrapped snugly around his waist. Each muscle is defined and sculpted like a work of art. His broad shoulders taper down to his narrow waist, creating a silhouette that exudes confidence and athleticism. Droplets of water glisten on his skin and his hair, with the scent of his soap and shampoo lingering in the air.

The corners of his lips curve upward in a mischievous grin as he looks at you with playful intent. You both have the same idea.

His lips part ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of his teeth, adding an air of allure to his devilish smile. “ did you miss me baby?” He says with a subtle tilt of his head. He drops his towel and your eyes immediately fall to his hardened cock. He exudes so much confidence and charm, as he stands naked in your bedroom that he’s practically daring you.

You immediately unhook your bra and pull off your panties and slowly approach each other.

Your arms wrap around each others bodies, pulling close as your lips meet in a sweet lingering kiss that turns electrifying.

Austin lays you down on the bed and trails kisses down your body. It’s a slow, deliberate descent, igniting a trail of sensation along your skin. With each kiss your breath quickens and your pulse races with escalating passion. He kisses every curve and dip making you a canvas for his lips to cover. You exert a gentle yet firm grasp into his hair conveying your desire for him that can no longer wait and he smiles looking up at you taking his cue.

He climbs your body and aligns himself between your legs sliding his large cock into the warmth of your wet entrance. He fills you completely when his tip meeting your core.

He thrusts his cock into you repeatedly in a rhythm of precision and determination. With each thrust, your coil tightens until, it springs free. There is a satisfying release of tensions as Austin grinds against your throbbing core creating a symphony of sounds and motions from you both in ecstasy. With each thrust you both feel a sense of accomplishment, knowing you are getting lost in the highs of each other’s orgasms.

As Austin fills you with his passions on the expensive duvet covers of the king sized bed It ignites the fires within you both that burns the brightest when you are together. A promise of devotion that transcends words.

As you finally pull away, your breaths mingle in the space between as you gaze into each other’s eyes knowing you both found something rare and precious, a love that would weather any storm and stand the test of time.

Together, you navigated the maze of modern romance unafraid to confront your fears and embrace each others flaws. For in each other's arms, you found your truest selves, imperfect yet perfectly matched.

You and Austin put on robes to enjoy each others company after the intimate encounter. You wanted to view the city that you loved out on the balcony. Austin brought a bottle of wine to pour you both glasses to enjoy before bed.

As you stood hand in hand, gazing into each others eyes above the city lights in your New York City high rise drinking wine together you knew that your love was your sanctuary, your false god, and your salvation all rolled into one.

🩷End 🩷

🏷️ Always Tag Me List 💌

@faegoddessog @purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @obsessedvibee @abswifey @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @star017 @buckysteveloki-me @cauliflowercounty @thegabbyh @dacreshoney @elvismylove04 @emeraldsgirl @fallofthedamned @lindszeppelin @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @feydsociety @phil2135561 @softboo

[kuroenanan]

Heya! 2nd req I have made for this blog for now:'D Can I request for all Niigo members(separate) x reader; Where the reader is basically a huge fan of Niigo though is in denial that they're too much of a downbad fan for their songs. But one day, they catch the reader screaming every lyrics of their song in their room(you can pick whichever song of your choice!) and gets embarrassed to find out that the specific character was actually watching and the reader tries to act as if nothing happened. It is also your choice if the reader is actually good at singing or if they're LITERALLY screaming the lyrics wahaha

Diehard fan

a/n ; this is such a funny request. please enjoy!

a/n 2 ; i included my favourite commissioned song of each member, with a link to each! pls listen to them. they’re great.

characters ; kanade, mafuyu, ena, and mizuki.

# kanade.

since the members of nightcord are anonymous, and you don’t really know that your girlfriend is the composer of your favourite group, kanade can get a bit embarrassed whenever you talk about how amazing her group’s songs are!

she finds it a bit funny how you tend to deny how big of a fan you are, and if it were up to her, she’d gladly give you the title of number one fan.

one day, however, she doesn’t expect to hear you singing passion at 25:00 in your bedroom when she comes over for her weekly visit.

she stands there, mouth agape; your voice is beautiful, and your singing no less. you manage to hit every note with no issue, how come you’ve never sung for her before? she’d love to hear more.

when you find out she’s been standing there the entire time, your face flushes red and you pretend nothing was happening. she finds it adorable. <3

# mafuyu.

she can’t quite explain it, but mafuyu feels a certain warmth in her chest whenever you talk about how much you love nightcord, especially when you talk about how the lyrics of each song resonate with you.

she doesn’t understand why you deny it, though; if you like nightcord so much, why not express it?

it’s not until she finds you in your bedroom, as she arrived to your house for a ‘study session’ (a lie she told to her mother), singing saisei, that she seems to understand.

were you shy about singing in front of her? ashamed? you shouldn’t be — she finds your voice so comforting, and mafuyu feels a small, genuine smile form on her face.

it goes away, however, as soon as you notice her standing outside your door and go beet red; coughing into your fist and beckoning her to come inside. you really should sing for her sometime.

# ena.

ena can’t help but feel a bit proud of herself whenever you gush about nightcord — especially when you mention the artwork of each music video. that’s her art you’re praising; she wishes you knew that you were dating the illustrator.

she always asks why you deny it, and you respond with “i’m not denying anything!” which always makes her giggle.

nothing can stop her from being shocked, happy, and head over heels all at the same time, when she finds you in your bedroom singing i am rain, though.

it was a relatively new song from her group, and the fact that you already know each lyric by heart? could she be more in love?

she laughs as you realize she had been there the whole time, a lovestruck grin on her face as she enters your room.

# mizuki.

mizuki loves when you talk about nightcord! they can’t help but feel giddy whenever you mention the music videos, and how well they’re edited. that’s their work! and! you’re praising it!

they don’t question you when you deny your love for nightcord, only smiling as you continue to gush about it.

though, they’re absolutely awestruck by you, when they find you singing kimi no yoru wo kure in your room.

they feel like crying; you’re singing beautifully, and a song that’s dear to their heart, too. just when i thought i couldn’t love them more. they think to themselves.

giggling when you realize they’ve been there the whole time, they give you a hug; beyond grateful that you’re in their life.

[cherryfennec]

So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-

Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!

This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:

General headcanons;

This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:

Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.

The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.

Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;

While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.

In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.

Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.

There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.

In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.

Few bonus headcanons!

I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!

[world0fmadness]

NEVER FADE AWAY

pelle “ dead ” ohlin x musician! reader | øystein “ euronymous ” aarseth x musician! reader

♡ general dating headcanons for pelle and øystein with a musician partner!

୨୧ such a sweet anon, i hope you like this <3

♡ requested by anon | view my metal masterlists here and here

reading music recommendations: never fade away by pt adamczyk - i really want to stay at your house by rosa walton

PELLE “ DEAD ” OHLIN

♡ pelle really likes sharing lyrics with you!

୨୧ if you show him lyrics you’ve thought up, he might not be a man of many words but he gives the best and most genuine advice, always staying true to his options and thoughts

“ i like this one… the play on words, it’s good… ” ( if your songs tell really weird of fucked up stories through the lyrics, he’s so into it, give him the lore, all of it )

♡ as we all know, pelle wasn’t the most open to listening to many other genres outside of metal…

୨୧ but i think with you being his partner, he’d be much more open to it, just for you! he might not be the biggest fan if you make pop music or something along those lines but he won’t be as disregarding towards it as he usually is! he’ll try his absolute hardest to see the best in it

♡ but pelle would probably be obsessed if you made ambient music!

୨୧ he just thinks it’s such an intriguing genre and loves the different sounds you use in the music, he’s an especially big fan if you use sounds of the forest in your music

♡ however, no matter the genre of music you make, pelle will be making a patch of your stage name and putting it on his jacket alongside all his other patches!

୨୧ it’s his way of supporting you, he doesn’t think he’s not the best with words so he tries to show you love and support through other means

♡ he’d really like watching you get ready for a concert!

୨୧ he’ll watch you from the side, staying quiet as his blue eyes follow your movements around the room, studying your ritual! he likes how much thought you put into things before a concert, i think he’d relate to it quite a bit and like to help you with any preparations needed

♡ if you ever asked for his help on making a unique outfit for a concert, he’d be very awkward about it but he would offer to help make you one!

୨୧ if you agree to his help, he puts a lot of thought into it, trying to make the best he’s ever made for you, he’d be blushing so red and giving a tiny smile as you praise his work on it and tell him how much you love the outfit :(

♡ if you need some album artwork, he definitely wouldn’t mind drawing something for you!

୨୧ he’s actually kind of honoured that you want to use his art… it definitely makes him a little red in the cheeks which he quickly attempts to cover with his long blonde hair <3

ØYSTEIN “ EURONYMOUS ” AARSETH

♡ i mentioned once in a comment that øystein is the number one hater to every relationship that isn’t his own…

୨୧ and it’s true! because it would take so much convincing for him to sell someone else’s partners records in helvete, there’s only a 1% chance he will, especially if they’re not a black metal musician

♡ but his partner’s records? oh yeah, they go up on the shelf the second you guys start dating, no matter what genre of music you make!

୨୧ if anyone questions it or mocks him for being whipped, he’ll threaten them with a lifetime ban from his store and their jokes will quickly come to a halt as they release just how serious he is…

♡ øystein is another guy who absolutely will not miss one of your concerts!

୨୧ he’s the dude going around the place telling everyone who will listen that you’re his girlfriend, pointing over to you on stage as he says it as if they don’t get that already

“ that’s my girlfriend, y’know? so fucking talented, ain’t she? ” ( they better only respond with a yes otherwise he’d stink eye them and call them a not so nice name )

♡ øystein celebrates every new magazine feature or album release with you in helvete, throwing you a party with all of your friends and favourite drinks

୨୧ he’s just always so proud of you, keeping his arm thrown around you with a drink in his free hand and telling you how amazing you are, how proud of you he is

♡ similar to bård, if you ever wanted some guitar in your music and didn’t play yourself, he’d be all over that!

୨୧ he’d be so secretly over the moon about it, trying so hard to hide the huge smile that comes across his face as you bring up the idea to him

♡ øystein is definitely the type of guy to be smug as hell around your wannabe groupies!

୨୧ well, he’s smug at first but if they start seriously trying to make moves on you in front of him, he’ll get so pissed off and he will absolutely argue with them, no matter their gender

♡ if you don’t really have much merchandise, øystein would absolutely make cute little button pins for you and sell them in helvete!

୨୧ he has a couple of them on his leather jacket too, of course <3

[michellemisfit]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thanks for creating the game and for the tag @jrooc thanks for the tag @vintagelacerosette

Today we’re talking fandom. Come play!

Name and A03 handle: Michelle, michellemisfit

Current Location: Living room, surrounded by feathers, as I’m currently fletching some arrows

Favourite picrew: This one is pretty fucking spot on. Or at least it was at the time. Hair is very different now. But then, hair is always different… lol

Also this one is spiritually VERY me

What's one thing you want in a picrew? Ability to add coloured streaks! And a wide selection of scars, or alternatively the ability to move them around the screen. Either is fine. But mostly the hair thing. My hair is generally 4 different colours. Don’t try and limit me to one!!

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? Erm… 3 way tie between Mexico Gallacrafts, Fimo Gallavich, and Cookie Gallavich? Maybe? Argh. Turns out, looking back at my art tag… I’ve created some pretty cool stuff. Huh. Yay me.

Why is it your favourite? I don’t really do photography, and I’m really proud of the idea behind and the execution of that photo. And while I LOVE drawing more than anything, I don’t think I’m exceptional or anything. But I’m damn creative when it comes to silly 3D craft projects, so both Fimo Gallavich and Cookie Gallavich make me happy and feel like something not just anyone could do… I dunno.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? It was LONG to create. Both cookie and Fimo Gallavich took several days in total. And I think that’s the other thing I like about myself. I am willing to put in the work, and it usually pays off.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? Hah! You’ll be able to corroborate this, I’m not just sucking up!! LOL I’m currently reading Camp is a Battlefield by @blue-disco-lights, @jrooc, and @mybrainismelted, with artwork by @creepkinginc, so that’s the last one I commented on :)

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I mean… every single WIP I have ever started reading, only to realise that maybe there won’t be any more of it… 😱 Every. Single. One. They’re all special, and they all hurt in their own special ways. And I will remain subscribed to all of them FOREVER, because you never know!!

Also? Comment on WIPs. Tell authors how much joy the story brought you, how much space it’s occupying in your brain, how much you would love to see it continue but how happy you are to have read as much of the story as there is because it’s changed your brain chemistry… do NOT comment saying ‘next chapter when?’, cause that makes you a dick bag.

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I’m a sucker for fake dating, only one bed, and a soulmate AU 🤷🏽‍♂️

Least favourite? …not a huge fan of kid fic, but hey, all it takes is a great author to make it work.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? Again, do not kink shame, because you’re only ever one good fanfic away from discovering something about yourself you did NOT see coming…

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Exhausted and antsy. Is it good enough? Are people gonna like it? Should I even bother anyone with this? Why don’t I just go and hide under a rock forever?? I felt okay about this when I finished it, why is it suddenly the worst thing to have ever been created??? …I wish there was a sense of calm and accomplishment. There is not. Brains suck!

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: @deedala - I so appreciate how we’re on a similar wave length when it comes to art as well as ‘everybody wants to hunt me for sport’ vibes. I know I can always count on you for kind but honest words, and that’s so important!!

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Read comfort fic. Probably Like Real People Do or None the Wiser.

Edit: Also? Go and read comments and tags on old art posts. That’s a sure fire way to cheer me up!

This was fun, and made the 15 minute wait between fletching each feather pass much faster. Thanks!!

If you are currently making your own arrows and need something to occupy your wait time with… how about completing a tag game? lol

@heymrspatel @loftec @creepkinginc @deedala @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @iandarling @iansw0rld @ian-galagher @mybrainismelted @palepinkgoat @crossmydna @mikhailoisbaby @sickness-health-all-that-shit @rereadanon @rutherinahobbit @energievie @junemermaid @francesrose3 @deathclassic @faejilly @rutherinahobbit @gallawitchxx @look-i-love-u @jessij1997 @callivich @celestialmickey @wehangout @doshiart @lynne-monstr @the-rat-wins @blue-disco-lights @suzy-queued @sleepyfacetoughguy @spookygingerr @burninface @gallapiech

[shoccolatine]

purple.

⚘pairing: rafayel x gn!reader ⚘summary: for the first time, rafayel asks for your help with his latest painting. ⚘tags: sfw, oneshot, 2nd person POV, gender-neutral reader, fluff, mutual understanding, a lot of metaphors, blushy rafayel bc boy can BLUSH ⚘word count: 943 ⚘a/n: hi!! i started playing l&ds two weeks ago and i am HOOKED. rafayel is my favourite, and so i was inspired to try writing his voice! this is my first l&ds writing so thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy~!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As usual, the door to Rafayel's home studio is unlocked. You push it open and slip inside, removing your shoes. The heat of your bare feet sticks against the surprisingly cool hardwood floor as you move into the room.

Rafayel is actually where you expect him to be for once, headfirst in a painting you haven't seen before. You sigh and get ready to settle in for a while, knowing how absorbed he gets when inspiration hits. He probably didn't even hear you come in. So it catches you off guard when he actually speaks first.

"Hey. Come over here," he says as he slides a thick, wet stroke of paint onto the canvas, never looking away.

You oblige without fuss, mainly because his tone is so airy and earnest that you feel being mischievous right now would go over his head. You stop next to him.

"What do you think?" He asks, still gazing at his work.

You puff air out your nose. "You're asking for my thoughts? That's a new one."

He finally looks at you then, his expression just as light and floaty as his voice had been. It's not a side of Rafayel that you're used to, but it's one you find most interesting—the one where he's so deep in artistic expression that he himself has become one with his canvas. An abstract impression of its own creator. A secluded forest monk reaching a state of nirvana like sunlight's warmth on his face.

You don't see it often, since he paints in solitude and you get him out of the house more than he bargained for, but it's the rare intrigue of it that makes this Rafayel all the more special.

"Just tell me," he says simply.

You finally take a good look at the artwork perched on the easel.

It's gorgeous and colourful, his trademark thick strokes, playful yet meticulous and reminiscent of sea foam, present a scene that is at once novel and familiar. It's significantly warmer than most of his other paintings, liberally using more reds and purples alongside his usual blues, as if plucked directly from a sunset.

Knowing Rafayel, if he could do just that, he would.

And yet, as lovely as it is, you can't help but feel like something's... off. The canvas is nicely underpainted, but the centre is dreadfully blank. The painting has no focal point.

"It's missing something," you point out. He hums a thoughtful "mhm" in reply, as if those were the exact words he was waiting to hear.

Suddenly, he turns the paintbrush on you. You realize, a bit delayed, that he's holding it out as an offering.

"I want you to add something to it."

"Huh? Me?" He doesn't respond right away, so you continue. "What would you want me to do?"

Rafayel shakes his head, but there's a gentle smile on his lips. "If I told you what to do, then I might as well just do it myself."

His smile remains as silence grows between the two of you, a silent invitation beckoning a leap of faith. You break his gaze to turn back to the canvas, the gaping void in the centre like an eye of the storm, pulling you in and yet blowing you in every direction. What could you possibly add to this piece that Rafayel couldn't?

"I thought you hated people messing with your work. This is a trick, isn't it?"

He shakes his head again, his soft messy purple curls tickling his lashes. "Kinda a lame trick. And annoying. I put a lot of hard work into this already, only for it to go to waste like that..." he says, and the pouty Rafayel you're more accustomed to is back. "Besides, you're not 'people'. You're you."

"And what exactly does that mean?"

"It means you know what this painting needs. You'll treat it well. You know my vision for it more than anyone else because, well... my vision is you." His voice trails down to a whisper.

You look at the painting once more, with new eyes. This painting... is you?

"Rafayel..." you say, unable to say much else.

He takes your hesitation gently, holding it like a hand and guiding it along, taking the reins and allowing you to find your footing again. "It looks different from my other pieces, right? I'm sure you noticed. That's because you make me different. Not like I've changed for you or anything, but more like... I've changed because of you. You know?"

"Um...? Not really," you reply sincerely.

He taps his chin thoughtfully. "You're red where I'm blue. And together, we make purple." He breathes out a laugh. "It sounds so simple when I put it like that. It's not that simple at all. Nothing about you is simple. You're annoying and loud and strong and everything I'm not, and yet somehow we blend together so well that I don't know how I was able to be content with being blue for so long. I want to be blue, and red, and purple. But only your shade of red will do."

He pauses, his ears a dark shade of the exact colour he speaks of. His eyes are pleading, as if saying 'understand me as I understand you', and before he can open his mouth to spout more abstract nonsense, you dip the brush in red—a perfect match to the hue blooming in his face. You are in this colour as much as he is.

"I think I know what to do now," you say, and your red splatters over his blue, mingling purple like summer plums, sweet and sour and bursting.

[vashvenus]

★ミ serpentine.

synopsis: naga knives has a sort of morbid fascination with you than manifests in a strangely sexual manner.

contains: naga/serpent knives, knives’ taxidermy hobby is mentioned, sort of medical? but he’s just exploring and weird, dubcon i think?, he has two weewees, and afab reader. 3.5k words.

note: teehee!! this is a (late) christmas present for my BEST FRIEND!! my cool, adorable, and wonderful bff @knivesbunny <33 hehehe enjoy bee + everyone else!!

it was about time you moved on in the world. getting a fresh start in the form of a cozy cabin at the edge of the woods sung your name and the price point was staggeringly low so, after confirming there were no safety hazards, you took the place. with dark wood and muted tones alongside a beautifully kept garden by the previous owners, how could you possibly go wrong? well, ‘wrong’ is an arbitrary term and ultimately up to the individual for judgement.

your moving process went without a hitch. furniture and belongings all being placed properly following a good deep clean plus a couple coats of paint, things any place would need upon a new owner arriving. you'd been rather happy at the final product, something dreary at first taking the form of your own home; a fond word. trinkets, cupboards of dishes, and an amalgamation of photos and artworks lining the walls to create an atmosphere you almost wished you could share but, alas, a solitary life was your preference.

the garden out back was complete with a greenhouse tucked to the side, surrounded by an abundance of flora and fauna that also colourfully dotted the rest of the greenery. small plots had been sectioned out for different fruits and herbs and the idea of being able to grow a large quantity of your own food was an exciting new feeling, one that you couldn't wait to grasp. thusly, it wasn't long until you found yourself kneeling in the grass and working new seeds into the dirt. a variety of the basics alongside some of your favourites was the route of action, one also deemed reasonable. between fondly nestling new seeds and sipping at cool beverages, the thought of the greenhouse slowly slipped your mind despite how vital it was to your task. swiping the gathered sweat from your forehead, you rose up to analyze your progress to which brought your eyes back to that small addition cozied up to the side of the property. the bags of dirt and tools resting on the ground would need a place to go after all... so, you wandered over to that little building and fiddled with the door.

the wooden door was slightly overgrown and gave you a good fight to open, weeds and rust seemingly actively working to keep you out of the space. stepping back, you looked it over a bit more, not wanting any splinters, before pressing your shoulder into it for added force. with a combined 'bang' and 'groan,' the door scraped across the inner concrete floor before coming to a stop about three quarters open. you huffed and slipped in, cursing the rotten chunk of wood and attempting to get a good look at what you were working with. eyes glazing over various rickety shelves, a sharp and icy chill rolled down your spine. a small nagging voice in the back of your head whispered ‘something isn’t right,’ in response to the unusual, for lack of better words, appearance of the inside.

atop aforementioned delicate shelves lay different jars full of an indistinguishable liquid and what appeared to be organs, small ones so hopefully not human, as well as a range of entire animals fully submerged in their own watery tombs. wind chimes made of bones twinkled from the ceiling above firmly locked chests and you weren’t totally sure you were interested in the contents. the previous owners, an old couple, didn’t seem like the type to hoard such morbid trinkets but sometimes it’s the most innocent ones, you figure. still, the lingering idea of this being the work of some beast that had chased them away from their lovely home rattled at the back of your mind ominously. shifting on shaky knees and feet, you contemplated poking around a bit but rationality told you to at least find a sturdy pair of gloves first. though, as it would seem, the choice wasn’t yours to make judging by that same yet more aggressive scraping and slamming door.

whipping around, you came face to face with… a man? one with frosty eyes, near white hair, and a scowl that could skin you alive. more importantly, he was hanging from the ceiling of the small shed you were now trapped in; stuck. with him. this… not quite man, if your judgment of his long serpentine looking lower half meant anything. all wide eyes and dry mouth, you gaped helplessly at him, attempting to find some sort of explanation for what exactly you’re doing, as if this isn’t your property he’s on. his eyes turned to slits seeing you fumble for words and, with an amount of grace that shouldn’t be possible, he slithered off the ceiling to instead… stand? lay? rest? you’re not too sure but he’s in front of you now right side up. pupils merely scratches inside his powdery blue eyes, you fear he’s deciding if you’ll make a good meal and you’ve half the mind to assure him you’re not as tasty as he may think. alas, he speaks before you get the chance.

“name,” it’s a simple but firm commanding question you weren’t quite expecting but, to be real, what were you expecting from an interaction with a snake man? you stutter out a whimper of a reply and he clicks his tongue; it’s forked, you note. with all confidence you can muster, not much, you promptly for his own. he hums low. “millions knives. shorten it to knives at most. don’t dare to give me any sort of nickname, as you humans often do; it’s abhorrent,” and you’re shocked he’s so eloquently spoken. perhaps there’s snake people schools you aren’t aware of?

“right. noted, millions knives,” you hesitate, not keen on irritating him further, as clearly just your presence has perturbed him, “i… apologize if i’ve intruded but… this is my property after all. some sort of explanation on your,” you gesture widely at the space, “hobby would be appreciated.” your poor attempt at mimicking his speech pattern has him letting out a chuckle that sounds more like an array of chitters. palms sweaty and desperately avoiding eye contact, you gulp hoping he’ll entertain your question before potentially swallowing you whole; snakes can do that. his tail flicks your shin jolting you to bring your eyes back to his, admittedly handsome, face.

“my… hobby, hm? it’s nothing to you,” a disappointing response, “were you hoping i’d have a jar your size, little human?” you’re positive he’s making fun of your fear yet somehow his words feel flirtatious in a way that has your brain swinging like a pendulum between crying out of petrification and placing a hand on his built chest. “i’ve been watching you for some time now. you’re utterly,” his tail wiggles up to grip your waist, “fascinating. a perfect experiment.” if he didn’t sound like he was flirting before, he sure does now.

his words were true to an extent beyond your knowledge. ever since the first tour you took of the place, he had kept an eye on your every move. knives hadn’t found an ounce of appeal in new people moving into the small home but, if he had it his way, it would turn abandoned for him to find sanctuary in. alas, the housing market wasn’t on his side as people inspected the place top to bottom and he was stuck merely seething beyond view; that was until you came along. all bright smiles and eager nods, he was beyond irritated with the way he found you undeniably irresistible. something so... keen would make a lovely study after all, he thought, though destroying you utterly and completely was off the table for he'd never be able to poke and prod at you after that. unfortunately, in the time it took for him to mull over a game plan, your first visit was over and he slithered back into the thick woods while scowling; unfair. the jump knives felt in his heart upon your second visit was one that caught even him off-guard, an emotion towards humans beyond that of revolt? unheard of and vile. yet, he was the one who had it and couldn't simply deny that he was feeling something beyond curiosity. your scent, perhaps? he muses over a handful of biologically reasonable conclusions for his reaction to a distantly nodding vash whos already figured out the truth. he saves it though, as to not have his other arm lobbed off, and instead hums along agreeing to every point with faint amusement.

it's with thoughts racing past at speeds no human could match, that knives brings himself back to the present, large palms and boney fingers coming to trail your jaw. another flick of his tongue appears between the grin now forming along his pink lips and impossibly long teeth; even a playful nip would draw extensive blood. he makes a sound between a hiss and growl as one sharp nail trails along your neck down to your sternum slowly, as if assessing a piece of meat; perhaps, in a way, he was. silvery tail wrapping around your left ankle, he tugs your leg up with his head dipping to peer curiously at the limb. you can't really blame him considering legs are the only human trait he lacks but the unsettling nature still makes you shiver. knives takes turns with each of your legs and arms, taking them in at all angles and seemingly pleased with what he was seeing. sure, he wasn't fond of humans at all but, he can appreciate when one is well made; easy on the eyes. a slightly morbid fascination, maybe. finally letting you go from his clawed grasp, he nods, satisfied.

"alluring. remove these pesky clothes," he scrunches up his nose while pinching the fabric of your shirt, "and seat yourself atop that cabinet." his gaze never once easing up, you're between bolting or following his instructions. the former would rely on you being stronger and faster than the behemoth of a man-snake standing directly in front of the door and you're positive you'd be dead two steps in. with trembling fingers, you pull the dirt dusted shirt from your body and shiver at cool air ghosting across your bare chest, only held back by the simple bra clinging to your breasts. you swallow thickly before shimmying off your denim shorts past your thighs and awkwardly down your feet. having not removed your socks or shoes, it was quite the task, but potential tetanus from the rickety floors wasn’t on the menu today. knives found amusement in your struggle, if the chittering in front of you meant anything though, in truth, he was rather charmed. such clumsy behaviour almost reminded him of a newborn bunny. face flushed, you finally unclasp your bra and slip off your panties with no more grace than your shorts had been discarded with, before perching yourself on the cabinet knives had dully gestured to.

“is this… is this good?” the words slide past your lips before you let them, sounding too pleading for your liking but knives seemed to enjoy that despite a hum being all he offered in return. his strong chest was quickly in front of your eyes, curse his fast snake body, while his hands found purchase on your legs again. with one palm on each of your knees, he gently eased them open, nearly purring at the sight.

“you’re something of a gem, hm?” his voice was low, hands inching up your thighs with sharp nails leaving a trail of goosebumps. “how very kind of you to welcome me with such a,” the forked tongue of his makes a third appearance, “wonderfully prepared gift? such a lovely homeowner…” though sarcastically sweet in tone, his words did nothing but shoot directly between your legs. “i’ve got a keen nose, little rabbit, are you enjoying being my area of study?” his gaze was hard as he looked at you down his nose and from between long lashes. “your most intimate nodes are crying out ‘yes’.” he presses against your folds to spread them with feather light fingertips, much like one would a dissection. spreading you softly, his head tilts to one side while his eyes seem to slowly drag up and down the weeping slit of yours he's not fully exposed. knives wedges himself fully between both of your legs as to not allow you to close them and his other hand joins in on the fun, prodding softly at your entrance. he seems to revel in the small whimpers you make, crystalline tears clinging to your lashes from a mixture of desperation and humiliation at letting him do such to you so easily.

employing a sort of gentleness and patience you didn't think he had, knives slowly eases in one of his fingers down to the second knuckle before pulling it out with a wet 'schlick' to wrap his mouth around it. the taste seemed to please him based on his own moan and he returned to his previous ministrations, softly thrusting the finger in and out of you. with the hand that had been used to spread you, he smoothly switched to rolling gentle circles over your clit, eyes still fixed firmly on watching the way your body reacts. a second finger accompanies the first in its delicate rock, encouraging more of the sweet sticky essence of you to drool out and across his hands. panting and whining, you buck pathetically into his hands with closed eyes and red bitten lips; you miss the way he slides to his knees. for a man so large he is more than quiet, something you can't match with the harsh suckling on your clit coaxing loud cries from you. his mouth curls the slightest bit with a smug smile and you can feel it past the swirling of his tongue and sharp incisors teasing your skin. briefly, you hope he won't bite. the soft plunging motions of his fingers turns harsh alongside the movements of his mouth. he seems eager to have you unravel on his face and, despite your own tattered pride, you can't stave off the shuddering of the orgasm that washes over in the most intense waves you've ever felt. embarrassingly loud slurps echo around the small shed as knives continues his own motions with glee. it's only when you gently push at his forehead that he shifts backwards and up, allowing you some reprieve from what he had just done. you're breathless, to say the least, having been made to come so shamefully on the handsome mouth and hands of this stranger but somehow you don't feel as though you were the only one who had fun despite his firm acclaims of experimentation.

you're struggling to regain your breath while knives looks you over with thinly veiled lust, you figure teasing him for it wouldn't go well so you restrain despite the thick atmosphere begging for some reprieve. while still gasping for air and shaking the post-orgasm fog from your head, he's pushing you down with his body weight and adjusting the way you lay across the cabinet to his personal preference; legs bent around his waist and hand beside your head. with hazy eyes, you look down to catch the way not one but two thick cocks slide out from the slit they had previously been held in. hanging heavy but curved up slightly, thick arousal is pooling at the tips and you think you can see ridges along the base of each. your jaw is slack as knives lets out another one of those chittery laughs.

"scared, bunny? no need, i'll make it work," his smarmy expression is nearly enough to have you shooting something snide back but he's lining up the tip of the lower cock and sinking himself in faster than you can think. "let go of any premonitions, this will be mutually beneficial."

if you could have any thoughts, they'd be nothing more than slurred curses but with the thickness and impossible length occupying and stretching your insides, you're rendered incapable. he's slow enough to give you some time to adjust but still fast enough that your body can't quite keep up with what he's giving; a pleasurable form of purgatory. knives allows his hands to wander your body, one coming to grip and gather your wrists to now rest above your head while the other fondles your breasts harshly. he's grabbing you in a way that feels inexperienced and almost charming though the harsh penetration is tearing you away from the idea. knives trails his hand from your breasts, to your stomach, and back up to grip your throat as he finally bottoms out inside of your tight heat. the wetness and warmth covering him is seeping out and down his tail to leave a lewd trail of combined juices he briefly admires the shimmer of before he's sliding himself out and roughly back in with a resounding slap. a high and needy sound escapes your throat as the tip of his cock taps your cervix and the rest of it rubs across your walls, eagerly taunting all of what's to come. the hand around your throat compresses your blood flow just enough to have your head feeling like it's full of cotton and your body even more pliant for his use. nails tilt your chin to have you make eye contact with the man currently deep in your guts, a glittering and dangerous grin spread across his face. with your eyes on his, knives begins pounding into you with earnest.

all of the sounds that leave you are high-pitched and warbled with unshed tears borne of the hand around your neck and stretch of your cunt. he's letting out strangled grunts and eager clicks at the grip of your wet pussy trying to milk him dry. his second cock his sliding against your clit and lower stomach with every harsh thrust he gives you, rubbing and pulling pleasurably. all of your nerve endings feel ablaze with the way he's using your body in a way that's filled with determination. his head drops down to make contact with your shoulder, his mouth sliding up your neck to replace his hand and add plentiful marks along the untouched skin; he figures an array of bruises will decorate it better than any necklace. dark indigo and rouge dappling the skin as blood comes to the surface, he's enamoured with how it looks tainting your flesh. both of his hands are now around your hips to hold you still for every pump of his cocks along and into your body, forcing you to take it all in full. you're crying with your back arched and chest forced to the ceiling as he continues his fast pace with teeth grazing your nipples. knives is biting numerous times across your tits, imprints of his fangs left in the wake akin to a path on a trail; he's oddly proud of his work. you're beyond your own body, desperate for him to bring you to a second high of the day, hips trying in vain to undilate against his own but his grip is too firm; his unnaturally strong. tongue flicking at your nipples, one cock deep in your guts, and the other beating against your clit, it's not long before you're babbling useless pleas for him to not stop. through choked sobs and moans, you're falling to pieces with his cock nestled deep inside of you. your brain is blank as lights splatter across your vision, eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool leaking from the corners of your mouth. still, his heavy rutting hasn't ceased. every limb of yours is twitching as sobs move past your lips without permission and your hands slide from his grip to claw uselessly at his back from overstimulation until knives is letting out an otherworldly growl as he sinks to the hilt one final time. you can feel the thick ropes of his seed coat your insides as his body curls around you protectively; a mating instinct maybe. he's grumbling lowly as an impossible amount of his spend leaks in and out of you with each twitch of his shaft.

you're still feeling a touch foggy when he pulls out, globs of shared slick pooling beneath you. knives is assessing your form critically, hands and eyes sliding over every bruise and bite left behind from his own roughness. it's almost sweet, how he seems to care for your well being despite his words claiming otherwise, and you simply allow yourself to enjoy the way he's fussing over you. once satisfied, he nods to himself and moves to scoop you up in his arms despite your small whines of protest but your indignation doesn't last long as he slithers you both over to your home, mumbling something about a shared bath; for purely experimental purposes, of course.

[ken-dom]

Lavender

Ken x gn!reader

Artwork by the wonderful @dranna

Request from @dranna: Hii , I saw your requests are open, so may I request a Ken and reader fluff ? Basically the idea is that Ken burst into the kitchen so excitedly, because he learned something new. Reader accidentally breaks a mug due to this and speak to him a little frustrated. He leaves the room and hours later reader finds him sobbing, thinking they will leave him, and he is not good enough.After this it’s basically fluff fluff fluff :’) I love this guy’s Kenergy

Author’s notes: Thank you for the gorgeous request darling! I had fun with this one, although I changed it a little as I didn’t have the heart to leave him crying for too long 😅 hope it's fluffy enough 🩷 (please note I temporarily closed requests after this was sent in, but my ask box is always open)

Warnings/content: 1.4k words, angst, fluff, crying, comfort, kissing, hinted praise kink, gn!reader

‘Do you have lavender?!’

‘Ken, what-’

As you turned to face him, Ken was already too close and barrelled into you, unable to stop in time.

The two mugs you were holding crashed to the floor, sending shards of porcelain skidding over the tiles and the contents splattering over your feet, staining your socks with thick chocolate, sticky cream and lumps of half melted marshmallow.

It almost happened in slow motion; both of you stood frozen to the spot in stunned silence and Ken wincing and holding his breath as he watched the porcelain shatter.

‘Oh… my favourite mug,’ you sighed quietly, more to yourself than to him.

But he heard disappointment in your tone, and released his breath with an almost garbled string of apologies.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, here, let me-’

He dropped to the floor, hastily trying to remove your wet, chocolate coated socks.

‘Ken, you don’t have to-’ you started, not wanting him to worry about it too much or hurt himself on a sharp piece of porcelain.

‘Ken, really-’ you tried again, to no avail.

You knew he struggled to navigate everyday situations like this, and that he meant well, but having him pull at your uncomfortably sticky clothes while your last helping of hot chocolate was spilled on the floor and your favourite mug was destroyed was really not helping.

‘Ken!’ you snapped, immediately regretting your tone. You took a slow, deep breath, continuing quietly. ‘Look, it would be easier if you just… got out of the way.’

He paused then, looking up at you with the saddest eyes you thought you’d ever seen. Your heart sank in your chest. 

‘Oh, Ken… I didn’t mean-’

As you reached down to help him up, he shot up from the floor without taking your hand and fled the kitchen with an arm thrown over his face, the tassels of his shirt swaying dramatically as he ran.

Of course, he had no idea where to go without you, so he only ran upstairs — the furthest point from you that would keep you within reach. The furthest point from where he’d ruined everything.

You could hear his loud sobs echoing down the stairs as you collected the shards of porcelain from the floor, swept up, mopped, and finally bundled your sticky socks into the washing machine.

By the time you were done, his sobbing was quieter, more like whimpers now.

Chastising yourself for being too harsh, you made your way upstairs to find him face down on your bed, crying into your pillow.

You sat carefully on the mattress beside him and began lightly stroking his back.

‘Ken, baby?’

‘I-I know- I r-ruined- everything!’ he cried, muffled by the pillow.

Each sobbed word broke your heart a little more.

‘Come here.’

Ken slowly pushed himself up, ready for the inevitable. You’d already told him it would be easier if he was out of the way. Surely it was only a matter of time until you wanted rid of him completely, and then what would he do? Where would he go? A discarded, unwanted Ken doll left to fend for himself in the Real World where he couldn’t even get a job as a simple doctor with a clicky pen. Pathetic.

His wet eyes met yours with uncertainty, but they sparkled when you held your arms out to invite him closer. Perhaps there was hope after all.

‘You haven’t ruined a thing, Ken. Well, except for my favourite mug. But it’s replaceable, and I suppose I can forgive you. If I must,’ you joked, feeling him tremble against you.

‘You… you mean I’m not… bad? You… still want me around?’

You chuckled softly into his soft, mussed hair and squeezed him in your arms. You couldn’t see it, but your tight embrace caused a smile to flicker briefly over his lips. 

‘Look at me.’

He pulled back, still in your arms, eyes wide and wet with tears that he wiped away with the sleeve of his cowboy shirt.

‘You’re good, Ken.’

He blinked his gaze away, blushing, and you made a mental note for a later date; Likes praise. Got it.

‘It was just an accident. These things happen here in the Real World – everything can’t be perfect all the time. Even you! And that’s ok. You’re doing so well here, and as much as I appreciate your support, just remember that I can handle it when little things go wrong. Alright?’

Ken nodded, his brow furrowing as he thought about what you’d said. Maybe he had been a little too eager. He just wanted to put things right but he had no idea how.

‘I’m sorry it was all so overwhelming. I didn’t mean to make you cry.’

‘Oh, no, it wasn’t you. I just… I try so hard to get everything right and most of the time I only make things worse.’ There was a hitch in his breath, as though saying it out loud was a relief and a realisation all at once.

‘You don’t need to get everything right. You make my day so much brighter! I never want to be without you, Ken.’

‘Really?’

You’d never seen such excitement in his eyes, even when he discovered that the ridiculous mink coat he loves so much had a horse pattern inlay.

‘Really.’

You spent what felt like an eternity just smiling at one another then, feeling your connection grow and strengthen. It’s probably the Kenergy, you thought, biting your lip to keep from laughing and spoiling the moment. Then you had another thought.

‘That was my last hot chocolate, but…’ 

You rummaged in your pocket until you found the little packet you’d stashed there on your way upstairs.

‘Open your mouth,’ you whispered, gently cupping his jaw in your palm and tracing your thumb over his bottom lip.

It was so wonderful how he leant into your touch and his mouth fell open so easily at your request, without question or hesitation. All he wanted was to please you and to feel your affection. It made your heart race.

‘Good Ken,’ you smiled, watching his cheeks flush again at your simple words.

With your free hand you popped a marshmallow between his lips and he laughed around it, smiling as he sucked the sweet and your thumb moved to wipe his tear stained cheeks.

‘I just don’t want to disappoint you,’ he breathed when he swallowed the last of his fluffy treat. ‘I’m trying.’

‘You never disappoint me, Ken. You surprise me every day.’

It felt natural when he leant into you, closing his eyes.

For the first time in his life, lips actually met his, soft and tingly and a little bit damp. He wasn’t sure what he expected it to feel like, but it was absolute bliss.

Warmth spread through his body, butterflies exploded in his stomach, and he melted for a moment, unable to move at how wonderful it all felt, until he was overcome with a burst of passion and his long manicured fingers wrapped around your arms and slid up into your hair. And he moaned. He actually moaned.

Wait until I show you how to use tongue, you thought with a smirk.

‘Wow,’ he uttered breathlessly as he dropped back, eyes fluttering open to smirk at you. It wasn’t smug though. It was proud and incredulous and filled with awe.

‘You liked that?’ you smiled. 

‘Liked it? I loved it!’

‘Me too.’

Ken’s chest swelled with satisfaction.

You reached for his hand to interlock your fingers with his and he squeezed, gasping joyfully as he stared at where your hands connected, as though it might cause some sort of magic. You half expected sparkles to erupt midair.

‘Hey, Ken, can I ask you something?’

‘Anything,’ he said dreamily, completely lost in the moment.

‘Why did you ask me for lavender earlier?’

His face lit up. ‘It says in my book that horses can find lavender calming, and I wanted to see what it smells like for myself, because apparently humans find it calming too? And since horses have an almost three hundred and sixty degree field of vision and sleep standing up…’

You ended up laid with your head on Ken’s chest as he excitedly told you every piece of information he had memorised about his beloved horses. You listened to him talk until he wore himself out.

You pulled a blanket up over both of you as he yawned.

‘I was wrong, Ken,’ you mused.

‘About what?’ he mumbled sleepily.

‘You are actually perfect.’

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, ‘and you are sublime.’ He kissed the top of your head gently before he fell asleep.

[fantasyescapes17]

Candle (Part 2)

You have always received the best of everything life has to offer: be it education, family, fortune or happiness. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan- one of the ton's renowned villains- cannot possibly bring you happiness of any kind, never mind wedded bliss. But can you evade Jeonghan's charms? Or will you find yourself falling victim to this clever rogue?

Genre: Yoon Jeonghan x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Wonwoo's sister so your last name is Jeon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 5.2k+

Part 1 Part 3

Series Masterlist [I would recommend reading the first story in this series, Patience, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

It did occur to you that you should confide in your dear friend Miss Ella Williams about your encounter with Jeonghan. But Ella spent the entire carriage ride home gushing about how well travelled Mr. Xu Minghao was, and all the exotic places he had seen. You barely had time to speak. 

And perhaps you did not truly care to try. 

What Mr. Yoon Jeonghan had said and done was not only flirtatious, it was also a secret and telling anyone would surely destroy the excitement bubbling inside of you (particularly since Ella would tell you off for approaching Jeonghan so shamelessly). You had never had a secret before- much less one that involved such a dashing gentleman- and it was really quite thrilling. 

“Miss, where are your pearls?” Daisy asked, concerned, as she helped you undress for bed that night and found no necklace. "Have you lost them? Should I send word to the staff at the assembly rooms to search for them?"

You bit back a smile. "Oh- no need, Daisy. Ella wanted to try them on so I lent them to her. She will return them to me when we meet tomorrow."

Daisy relaxed. "Oh, of course, miss. Good night, then."

"Good night."

You closed your eyes and dreamt of Yoon Jeonghan until the candle in your bedchamber had completely burnt out. 

—----------------------------------------------

The Hongs' ball was a grand affair of unrivalled proportions. It was no secret that Viscount Hong was currently 'in the market' for a bride, so his mother had spared no expense for this season's ball hosted at their palatial London home. Even if you had been lacking for dance partners (which you were not) you could have passed an interesting evening simply by looking around all the lavishly furnished rooms at the Hongs’ magnificent manor. Your brother Wonwoo (who refused to dance beyond his mandatory two dances per ball) had surely found some interesting artwork to admire.  

But you had lots of dancing and socialising to do. 

You donned your favourite dress for the evening and decided to forgo a necklace. After all, when Jeonghan returned your pearls after your dance, it would be strange indeed if you were already wearing a necklace. 

"Show me your dance card, friend," Ella insisted as she pulled you aside and seized your little card. It was almost full. The evening was more than half over and you had already danced with a few gentlemen including Mr. Kim Mingyu and Mr. Hessington. You had promised the next one to the lively Mr. Lee Seokmin.

"You still have one dance unspoken for," Ella remarked. 

"Oh, I-I have promised the last dance of the evening as well- it is just that the gentleman has not yet signed my card," you admitted. Ella gave you a strange look but she was luckily distracted by the sight of one of her favourite new gentleman admirers, Mr. Xu Mighao entering the room. 

You watched with amusement as Ella batted her eyelashes at Minghao from across the room and gave him a pretty smile. You laughed. 

“What are you doing?” you demanded of her.  

She turned back to you. “Trying to coax Mr. Xu to ask me for a second dance. Do you think he might? He seems a little shy but I am quite certain that with some time and effort I might get him to make a bolder move. Will you excuse me?” 

“Oh, Ella, wait!” you grabbed your friend’s hand. 

“Yes?” 

“Will you lend me your little book?” you lowered your voice. “You know the one…”  

Ella giggled. “Someone’s caught your eye, have they? Of course. Here it is- I must go and take my chance to speak to Mr. Xu, so keep the book safely with you and I will collect it from you  later.” 

You accepted the book gratefully. It occurred to you that even if you did not tell Ella about the little candle that Yoon Jeonghan had lit in your heart, you should be better prepared for your next encounter with the man. Admittedly, you knew very little about Jeonghan. Only that he attended Oxford with Viscount Hong and had two half-sisters; one that had been out in society for many years but was still unmarried and the other one yet to debut. 

There was still a minute or two until your dance with Mr. Lee Seokmin so you quickly opened the book and flipped to find the page on Jeonghan. It was not nearly as full as Kim Mingyu’s had been (you were pleased to find that Mr. Yoon did not have a list of heartbroken women to occupy multiple lines of the page). 

But then you saw it. 

Rumoured to be an absolute  villain, Ella had scribbled at the top of the page. Mr. Yoon’s father died intestate and he inherited his entire vast fortune. Possesses wealth beyond measure but refuses to provide dowries for his half-sisters- and will not financially support his step-mother. Has been seen actively sabotaging Miss Yoon’s suitors. 

You stared at the page in shock. Could this be true? Could it really be true? Was Mr. Yoon Jeonghan such a selfish person that he would reduce his sisters and step-mother to poverty while he kept his father’s entire estate? That was far beyond normal selfishness. That was monstrous- even if he disliked his sisters excessively, it did not justify. There were times when you and Wonwoo did not see eye-to-eye but you could not imagine your brother going to such lengths to ruin your life. 

If Mr. Yoon Jeonghan was such a terrible person… 

You felt small and foolish. How could you have allowed yourself to be swept away by Jeonghan’s devilish ways? You had hoped for excitement, certainly, but this far beyond what you (or any sensible woman) could accept. If he treated his sisters this way, then why would he treat his wife any better? 

Not that you would ever become his wife. 

No, no, no, that was certainly out of the question now. 

“Miss Jeon! I believe the dance is about to begin.” 

You quickly tucked away Ella’s book in your skirts before turning to a smiling Mr. Lee Seokmin. He had his hand held out towards you- you accepted it with a forced smile and allowed him to lead you through the dance. You were fortunate that Mr. Lee was a cheerful gentleman who did not mind your short responses to his questions. It was impossible to focus on Seokmin when your mind was whirling with thoughts of Mr. Yoon Jeonghan, and how foolishly you had thrown yourself in the path of such a villainous man. 

What were you going to do?

The dance ended. Mr. Seokmin thanked you and went on his way- and you were struck with the terrible realisation that in a few short moments, the last dance of the evening would begin and Mr. Yoon would come to claim your company as promised. 

No. You could not dance with him. You had made enough of a fool enough of yourself and you decided you had rather die of embarrassment than risk dancing with him and having to speak to him after your discovery of his true character. What would you even say to the man? I apologise for flirting with you the other day, but really, I had no idea that you were a villain? No, it would not simply not do. The mere thought made you nauseous. 

Your eyes desperately searched the ballroom for an escape and you saw Mr. Kim Mingyu standing nearby and calmly sipping a drink as he eyed the refreshment table.  

“Mr. Kim! Do you have a partner for the next dance?” you demanded, trying not to reveal how flustered you were. 

Mingyu blinked down at you with mild surprise. “No, I was actually going to sit down for this one-” 

“You must dance with me.” 

Mr. Kim Mingyu smirked and folded his arms across his chest. “Miss Jeon, that is quite shocking. Not only is it improper for a lady to ask a gentleman to dance, but unless you have forgotten, we have already danced together once this evening. A second dance would surely raise some questions-” 

Mingyu suddenly stopped speaking. His eyes landed on someone behind you. You recognized the intruder with a sinking feeling when you heard the familiar voice that had occupied your dreams all night. 

“Miss Jeon. I believe you owe me the next dance,” Mr. Yoon said calmly. 

Your throat tightened. You preferred to think that you appeared calm but, in reality, the utter panic that had seized your entire body was quite evidently written on your face. You turned around to face Yoon Jeonghan but kept your shaky gaze fixed on a random spot on his chin to avoid having to read the expression in his eyes. 

“M-Mr. Yoon,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “It is a pleasure to see you, but I am afraid you are quite mistaken. I have already promised this dance to Mr. Kim.” 

Mingyu raised an eyebrow but did not speak. 

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes with a hint of confusion. He was not stupid. It was immediately evident to him that your tone- indeed, your entire manner- towards him had changed drastically since the previous evening. You appeared almost afraid of him. Jeonghan’s smile fell, but he did not argue. He calmly took a step back and nodded. 

“I see. My apologies, I must have been mistaken,” he said simply. “Enjoy your dance.” 

Jeonghan left without any further ado and you swallowed deeply before turning back to face Mingyu. Mingyu was not inclined to allow your awkward behaviour to pass without comment. He glanced awkwardly at the retreating Mr. Yoon, and then back at you. 

“Miss Jeon, I really have to ask-” 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” you cut him off quickly. 

“Yes, but-” 

“You said I could always summon you if I required a dance partner. Are you reneging on your promise?” you insisted. 

Mingyu sighed before offering you his arm. “No, I certainly do not renege on my promises. But you should know that Mr. Yoon is a close friend to both myself and your brother. Secrets don’t stay hidden for long in the ton- and you will certainly not be able to keep yours for very long if you are this terrible at concealing your feelings.” 

You flushed, but could not think of anything to say. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr. Kim Mingyu was not wrong. Your secret barely lasted a few hours- indeed, it was exposed that very night. 

“Is there something I should know about you and Mr. Yoon?” your brother Wonwoo asked as soon as you arrived home from the Hongs’ ball. 

Your parents had already retreated to their bedchambers for the night and you were downstairs in the grand foyer with your brother. Wonwoo had never been one to speculate or inquire excessively into your life. He was more calm and level-headed than you. 

His lack of interest in most things also made him easier to deceive. 

You flushed and pretended to occupy yourself by adjusting a decorative piece on the mantel. “Mr. Yoon? Not at all. I know very little about him.” 

“Then why have I been asked to return this to you?” 

You turned slowly and your heart sank as you saw what Wonwoo was dangling between his fingers. Your pearl necklace. Oh no. You had been exposed. The necklace made everything look far more scandalous than it really was, and if word spread among the ton that a gentleman had been in possession of one of your necklaces then it would lead to all sort of speculation, and your virtue would be questioned, and you would be ruined, simply ruined-

“Sister,” Wonwoo said gently as he pressed a comforting hand to your shoulder. “Relax. Your secret is safe.  It is only Mr. Kim Mingyu and I who have heard of it, and neither of us would allow this to be revealed further.” 

You blinked up at him with tears forming in your eyes. “Oh Wonwoo, I have been quite stupid!” you confessed miserably. 

Wonwoo gestured to an armchair. “Sit.” 

“I-I really shouldn’t have flirted with Mr. Yoon, I know, and I should probably have scolded him when he took the necklace, but you must believe that I really had no idea of his villainous reputation!” you confessed. 

Your horror at having discovered Jeonghan’s true nature had caused you to forget entirely about the fact that he still had your pearl necklace in his possession. Wonwoo sighed as he sat opposite you. Your brother did not seem angry- his expression was far more sympathetic than you felt you deserved. 

“You are right that you have been stupid, but I’m not sure you understand the exact instances in which you have been stupid,” Wonwoo replied.  

You frowned. “What?” 

“Firstly, sister, you are lucky that Mr. Yoon is a gentleman. He returned the pearls directly to me and explained the circumstances. Considering how you offended him by openly declining a dance, a lesser man may not have been so careful to ensure that the necklace- and word of it- did not fall into the wrong hands.”

“Y-yes, I suppose not,” you admitted. 

“What caused you to suddenly refuse to dance with him?” Wonwoo questioned. “From what I understand, you were quite happy to indulge in flirtation with him at the assembly rooms yesterday evening.”  

“I had not heard then,” you mumbled. “About his family.” 

“That he has supposedly stolen his sisters’ dowries, ruins their prospects, and threatens to throw his step-mother out into the streets?” Wonwoo asked.

“Well-yes.” 

“And you believe these rumours?” 

Your eyes widened. “Should I not?” 

Wonwoo rubbed his temple with his fingers. He seemed torn. “These are not my secrets to tell so I will not be the one to reveal them to you. But let me say one thing, sister. If I had done to you what Mr. Yoon is rumoured to have done to his sisters, you would never speak to me again.” 

“That is… true,” you admitted. 

“And yet Miss Yoon does not appear to bear any grudges against her brother.” 

You paused and thought about it for a moment. It was true; Miss Yoon was often in the company of her brother and you had never seen her look displeased or upset with Jeonghan. You had simply assumed that she was a good-natured woman- she certainly appeared oddly content with her dire circumstances- but surely, if she had such a villainous brother as that, she would not want to be in his company?

“I mean- if she is financially dependent upon him, then it stands to reason that-” you began to argue. 

Wonwoo stood up before pressing the pearl necklace into your hands. “I won’t say anything further. Just be more careful in the future, sister.”

You clasped the necklace tightly and nodded. 

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Wonwoo.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You spent a few days mulling over your thoughts. It was difficult to decide what to do- your feelings were mixed and you could not quite determine whether you had made a mistake in distancing yourself from Mr. Yoon, or if it was for the best that you did not continue an acquaintance with a man who had such a terrible reputation in society. 

It was not long before you were presented with an opportunity to learn more. 

“We have been invited to a ladies’ tea this afternoon by Mrs. Yoon,” your mother informed you over breakfast later that week. “I have accepted the engagement for us, I hope you will not find it an unpleasant way to spend your afternoon?” 

Your eyes widened. “Not at all, mother, it sounds lovely.” 

“Perhaps you will have an opportunity to befriend Miss Yoon,” Wonwoo suggested lightly as he buttered his toast. You frowned at your brother across the table- but he did not look up at you. “I hear her circumstances are quite dire, what with her half-brother refusing her a dowry.” 

Mother narrowed her eyes at him. 

“And why are you so interested in Miss Yoon, pray tell?” she insisted. “Perhaps you are intending to court her?” 

“I have no particular intention of courting any woman. I only recommended Miss Yoon as a potential friend to my sister,” Wonwoo replied coolly. 

Your mother turned back to you with a sigh. 

“I worry that we shall have to consider ourselves fortunate if your brother agrees to wed any woman- her dowry be damned. But we shall not allow Wonwoo to rain upon our day, my darling. Let us take a walk in the garden before we depart for the Yoon's."

You nodded. "Of course, mother."

You felt rather nervous that afternoon when you entered Yoons' large London home and took your seat in their tea parlour. It was a ladies' tea, so you knew that the chances of seeing Jeonghan were very slim- but it still made you anxious to be walking around a home that he owned. 

"What stunning artwork!" the ladies gasped. There were at least ten women gathered in the Yoon's parlour for the afternoon tea. The lack of sufficient common topics of conversation meant that the lavish art pieces in the parlour served as an ice-breaker. 

"Yes- I selected these myself," Mrs. Yoon gushed. "When my husband was still alive, of course. He was such a lover of the arts, he really understood the value of having quality pieces to brighten up a room-"

It was incredibly dull. 

You had very little interest in art or paintings, and absolutely none in the uninformed opinions of the older ladies of the ton. You had no choice but to pick up your teacup and approach the quiet Miss Yoon. She had not spoken much all afternoon, but smiled at you kindly. 

"Miss Yoon," you greeted the woman. "I do not think we have properly met."

She welcomed you to sit beside her. "That is correct- but I have heard much about you, Miss Jeon. I have also had the pleasure of meeting your brother and dancing with him a few times."

"So you have had the unpleasant experience of being one of his obligatory two dance partners at every ball," you teased. But your interest was now piqued- how did she know Wonwoo? "May I ask how you came to be in the unfortunate position of dancing with Wonwoo?"

"We were introduced last year by my brother, Jeonghan," Miss Yoon said simply. "I believe Jeonghan knew him from their days at Oxford together."

You sipped your tea to hide your surprised expression. It was strange- Jeonghan's name fell from her lips so easily and without the slightest hint of malice or disdain. If her brother was such a villain, surely she could not speak of him in such a casual tone? 

Or was Miss Yoon simply an expert at hiding her emotions?

You gently prodded further. 

"Wonwoo hardly speaks about his time at Oxford although I ask him so many questions," you began. You would have to tread carefully in your quest for information. "I have always been fascinated by the idea of going away to college. But Wonwoo will not indulge me. Is your brother the same?"

Miss Yoon blinked in surprise. "Oh- no, Jeonghan speaks of his time at Oxford often. We frequently have his old classmates over to dine or for tea. I have heard plenty of stories."

"I see."

"Perhaps if stories of Oxford interest you, you should speak to Mr. Kim Mingyu or Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. Even Mr. Lee Seokmin. They are all very engaging story-tellers, and I doubt any of them would decline to answer questions from a beautiful young woman such as yourself."

You frowned. This was too strange. Surely if there was bad blood between Miss Yoon and her brother, he would not introduce her to his old classmates and tell her about his time away at college? It was stranger still that she should be so familiar with Jeonghan's friends- Mr. Kim, Mr. Kwon…

Miss Yoon blinked at you in surprise. "Have I offended you, Miss Jeon?"

You quickly masked your frown. 

"Oh! No, not at all, Miss Yoon! I apologise- I was only thinking of how I wish my own brother was a little more interested in society and conversation," you lied quickly. "I could not help but admire how beautiful your home is. If it is not too much trouble, could I perhaps see some of the other rooms?"

Miss Yoon nodded. She was not particularly enjoying herself in the tea parlour either. "I should be delighted to show you the house."

You each informed your mothers of your intention to explore the rest of the house, and were sent off with their blessing. 

"I am afraid you do not appear to enjoy these afternoon teas," you remarked to Miss Yoon, while she showed you around the grand dining room and half-heartedly explained the origins of the antique china displayed in the cabinets. 

She smiled thoughtfully. "I will not lie- I shall be glad when I no longer have to come to London every season. I would be perfectly happy to spend all year in the countryside."

"But will you not feel lonely? There must be very little society in the countryside," you remarked. 

She smiled. "I should prefer the company of one or two people I love, over an entire society of people I do not."

"Oh," you mumbled. "I actually rather like being in London for the season. The balls are such good fun, and I enjoy dancing very much. Perhaps the conversation becomes dull on occasion, but… I believe dull conversation is better than none at all."

Miss Yoon laughed. "Of course, Miss Jeon. I never meant to suggest otherwise. If you like society, then of course you must enjoy the season to its fullest. You are young, beautiful, and well-loved by the ton."

You looked up at her boldly. "Do you mean to imply that you are not?'

"I…" Miss Yoon gave you a gentle smile. "God forbid you should remain unmarried well into your late twenties with your prospects lessening by the day. Perhaps then you shall not enjoy society as much either."

"Perhaps not," you admitted. 

"But I do not believe you shall have to suffer the same fate as me. You seem to have captured the interest of many young men."

It was increasingly odd. While Miss Yoon spoke of her suffering and decreasing prospects, you did not see any actual pain in her eyes or hear any anxiety in her tone. She talked about her difficulties plainly, almost as though she spoke of someone other than herself. 

Something was very, very unusual about all this. 

Arm-in-arm, you both exited the dining room and entered the drawing room- and were struck suddenly by a shocking sight. 

Mr. Yoon Jeonghan had just entered the drawing room from a different entryway. You found yourself standing face to face with the handsome man in his brown riding jacket.  Jeonghan's dark hair was slightly tousled, and he had a hunting rifle tucked under his arm. 

"Jeonghan!" Miss Yoon greeted her brother pleasantly. "I did not know you would be here. Have you returned from hunting so soon?"

Jeonghan nodded. His dark eyes landed on you  briefly but he did not allow them to linger for too long.  He cleared his throat. "Yes. I'm afraid there was a bit of rain so the game was not as plentiful as it could have been. I see you have company."

"Ah-yes- Miss Jeon, allow me to introduce you to my brother, Jeonghan," Miss Yoon said. 

"We have met," you said hastily. "We were introduced at the Hessington's ball by Viscount Hong. It-it is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Yoon."

Jeonghan nodded. 

"And you, Miss Jeon."

"I was showing Miss Jeon around the house. The conversation in the tea parlour with the rest of the ladies was growing quite monotonous," Miss Yoon explained pleasantly. "But perhaps we should be returning now."

Jeonghan set his rifle down and reached into his coat pocket."Of course. But just a moment- sister- I have a letter for you from our mutual friend."

You watched as Miss Yoon attempted to conceal her delight at the envelope that her brother produced. Had you not been paying close attention, you might not have noticed the way her usually calm eyes suddenly  lit up like a beacon.  

But you were paying attention, and you did notice. As a fellow woman you could not possibly mistake the expression on her face. 

That was the expression of a woman in love. 

It all clicked into place suddenly. 

Of course. Of course, Miss Yoon is having an affair, of course she is perfectly happy without a dowry or suitors or prospects because she does not need any of it! She is in love!

You straightened up and smiled. "It would appear that you have been awaiting that letter, Miss Yoon- please feel free to sit down and read it, if you like. Perhaps Mr. Yoon might help me find my way back to the tea parlour?"

Miss Yoon hesitated. "I…"

Jeonghan looked at you for a long moment. He was evidently confused. His expression made it quite clear that he did not know why you had publicly rejected him at the Hongs' ball but were now orchestrating a situation to be alone with him. But, for whatever reason, he did not protest. 

Jeonghan offered you his arm. "It would be a pleasure to escort you back to the tea parlour, Miss Jeon."

Miss Yoon could scarcely object when every part of her yearned to be left alone and read her letter. She allowed Jeonghan to lead you out of the drawing room without much ado. 

The moment you were alone, Jeonghan tensed.

"Miss Jeon-"

"Mr. Yoon," you stopped walking and turned to face him. Jeonghan's handsome face looked down at yours with a softness that you had not expected. "Mr. Yoon, you must be terribly confused. I owe you an apology."

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "I do not require one."

"But it is true that I agreed to dance with you, and then avoided you-"

"Miss Jeon," Jeonghan said firmly. His voice was tense but gentle. "You do not owe me an apology. I behaved inappropriately at the assembly rooms the other evening. I was carried away by our flirtation. I am the one who should apologise. It was never my intention to pressure you to dance with me, or to cause you discomfort."

You bit your lip. "I-I was not uncomfortable-"

"You very clearly were."

"It was not because of the… the flirtation," you mumbled, still finding it a little embarrassing to use the word openly in the presence of a gentleman. 

The corner of Jeonghan's lips curved upwards. 

"Oh?" he asked. 

"Only because- just before our planned dance, I heard some things that made me…question your character…"

Jeonghan's eyes widened in understanding. 

"I see."

"But I am not sure what to think anymore. I did not think I wanted to associate with a man that would take his sisters' dowries. But my brother vouches for you, and the very woman who is the supposed victim of your offences- your sister- does not seem to bear you any ill-will. ."

Jeonghan folded his arms across his chest and nodded. "I understand."

"Is it true? Have you really taken away their dowries?" you asked him boldly. You looked up and met his eyes- Jeonghan seemed surprised and a little pained. He was silent for a long moment before he responded. 

"The rumours are not entirely baseless," he admitted carefully. 

"You are avoiding the question."

"I may be."

"But you are a gentleman," you pressed him. "And you cannot deny it, since only a gentleman would have quietly returned the pearls to my brother without breathing a word to anyone. So I would like to believe that whatever offences the ton believes you to be guilty of- perhaps you have committed these offences not to harm your sister, but rather to enable her happiness."

Jeonghan stiffened. "I can neither confirm, nor deny-"

"I am not asking you to confirm it. I am well aware, Mr. Yoon, that you are not a man who easily admits to anything. I am simply telling you what I have chosen to believe," you replied. 

Jeonghan smiled. "I suppose you are free to believe whatever you choose, Miss Jeon. I can hardly stop you."

You smirked. "And you are quite sure?"

"I have no objection."

"Would you still have no objection if I saw fit to mention my beliefs to others?" you teased. "For you see, I appear to have stumbled into possession of a secret- one that I have no incentive to keep,  since I owe no loyalty to any of the involved parties."

"I will depend upon your secrecy, Miss Jeon-"

"You may not. I do not keep secrets for free, Mr. Yoon. If you do not want me to expose your true nature as a selfless brother and gentleman to the ton, I will require more than empty-handed pleas."

Jeonghan chuckled. "You are full of surprises, Miss Jeon. Very well. I will not plead with you. But there must be some way to secure your secrecy?"

You looked up at him coyly through your eyelashes.

"There is. I shall require compensation," you said to him in a low voice. Jeonghan's eyes twinkled with delight as he looked down at you "And before you ask- no, I have no need of money."

Mr. Yoon smirked. 

"Then what may I offer you instead, Miss Jeon?"

You hummed thoughtfully. "I believe this secret is large enough to necessitate collecting my compensation in instalments. You may pay me the first instalment on Monday- by dancing with me at the Hastings' ball."

Jeonghan leaned down to whisper quietly in your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. 

"We have a deal."

—---------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you so much for the attention this series has received! I honestly did not expect such a positive response since my blog is so new, but I guess I'm not the only one who gets all tingly at the thought of regency!Seventeen, haha. I wanted to keep Candle short but I got carried away- so it will be a three-parter now and I'm working on the third part so hopefully in a few days I can upload it? I'm doing Mingyu next so hopefully you guys are excited for that too!

Feel free to reach out to me with feedback or anything! I'm not sensitive. :D Also any advice on how best to tag my fics would be helpful, I'm not sure what the best practice is for this stuff.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I discovered your blog a little bit ago (back when your requests were off) and got super excited when I saw that you wanted a Sam Winchester request!

So I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is insecure about her stretch marks, but Sam reassures her and shows her that he has stretch marks too from growing so quickly and much when he was a kid going from tiny to giant in like a snap. Reader is obsessed with them now that she’s seen them (and wants to lick them ;)) snd there’s so much appreciation on both sides. Thank you so much!

Love your writing!

.⋆｡Natural Matching Tattoos｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

You never liked your body but you love Sam and he adores every part of you so maybe you should let him show you just how incredible you are

Warnings: self deprecation, fat phobic thoughts, stretch marks, fear of rejection, fluff, implied smut, reassurance 

WC: 997

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Hunting was apparently not a great form of exercise, you thought as you stood in front of your full length mirror dressed in nothing besides a bra that should’ve been thrown out years ago and your laundry day underwear. With a critical eye, you glared at the overhang of your stomach, the seam between your thighs where there should have been a gap but especially the shimmery skin stretched too far along your body. 

You tilted your head as you traced those lines with the tips of your fingers. How many things had you tried to get rid of them? How many years have you spent avoiding mirrors just because of this? You sighed dejectedly, your entire body sagging with the weight of your hate. You were exhausted with it, it ate away at you until there was only a speck of the love you once had for the body you inhabited. 

“Princess, have you seen my- oh.” Light from the hallway streamed into your room, casting a new light upon yourself which you immediately turned away from, and instead met the deep hazel eyes of your barely official boyfriend. Sam filled the doorway, his presence overwhelming.

“Sam.” You could barely breathe out his name with the massive weight of shame sitting on your chest. You felt his gaze burning into your skin as he took in every inch of your mostly naked body. Your vision wavered as tears began to build.

Yet he said nothing. “I-“ But no more words would come. This was what you feared most, that he would finally realise that he could do so much better than you, that you could never compare to Jess or Eileen or even Ruby. As you braced yourself for heartbreak, Sam stepped closer, lost in a trance.

Your arms curled around your stomach and you looked away, squeezing your eyes shut. Your fingers brushed the tell-tale smoothness of some of your stretch marks and suddenly you wanted to scream. Why couldn’t you just be fucking normal, you wanted to shout at yourself, why couldn’t you just lose the weight before he saw you naked for the first time. You expected to hear him insult you or say that you had a pretty face for someone so big, but then, just like he always managed to, Sam surprised you.

Far softer than you could ever imagine a man like him to be capable of, Sam cupped your forearms, prying them away from your body and leaving you vulnerable to him. You whimpered under your breath. There was a moment of quiet where all you could hear was his heavy breathing and your own pounding heartbeat and then-

“Gorgeous.” 

His large hands hovered over your hips like he was handling a piece of precious artwork. The calloused tips of his fingers grazed the fat along your pelvis in reverence. “I always thought you were beautiful, but now, I can’t believe that you’re real.” 

“Sam-“ Part of you wanted to stop him, to push away his affections but the way he cradled you and looked at you with those big hazel puppy dog eyes, you didn’t think you had the strength to stop him. He gave you that stupid grin of his that showed off his dimples and made his entire body light up. “But my stretch marks.” You managed to stammer out as some sort of last ditch effort to get him to realise the truth.

Finally he laid his hands on your skin and your mouth snapped shut. His thumbs brushed against said stretch marks, leaving behind a warm, buzzing sensation that you could feel in your bones. “What about them?” He murmured but you could tell that he was already lost in the texture of your skin.

“They’re ugly.” You admitted like it was some shameful secret. Sam froze for a moment and gazed deeply into your eyes. 

“You really think that?” You nodded. Your skin was cold where he let go of your hips, it made you wish that you had just kept your mouth shut and let him love those parts of you that you hated. 

You jolted forward to try and grab at his hands but they were already pulling at the buttons of his flannel with a determined look on his face. You gave an embarrassed squeak as suddenly, Sam was topless in front of you, his perfectly sculpted torso so achingly close to your hands. “Then you must think mine are ugly too then.”

In the soft light of your bedside lamp, you could see the silvery lines that trailed up his slim hips, starkly contrasted against his tanned skin. They were almost identical to your own and they were beautiful, like silver threads that had been placed upon him like jewels. You couldn’t help but reach out to them, desperate to feel them beneath your hands.

Sam chuckled deeply in his chest but did not try to stop you as you laid your palms flat against his toned stomach. “How?” Was all you could manage to say besides something else incredibly impolite about your boyfriend’s body.

“I’m 6’4 princess, and Dean will absolutely attest to the fact that I grew over a foot in one summer. I was bound to get some stretch marks.” You hummed, now understanding why Sam had been so distracted by your own body moments before. “Still think stretch marks are ugly?”

You shook your head without hesitation and he beamed. “’S like we have matching tattoos.”

A soft kiss was pressed to your temple as he once more wrapped you in his arms to hold you close. “That’s my girl.” You sank into his embrace, content and warm. The weight of your insecurities was slightly lessened with someone you so dearly loved taking some of the burden and you couldn’t be happier about it. Well, there was one thing.

“Can I lick ‘em?” Sam’s laugh reverberated through the room.

“Only if I can lick yours.”

SPN Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3sloth @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @km-ffluv

Supernatural

@hc-geralt-23 @mandythemint @jenniferpendragon @certifiedhunter @lover-of-books-and-te

[hyunverse]

hiiiiiii eren baby HAPPY 5K AGAIN 💖💖💖💖💖💖 you deserve itttt!!!!!! i was thinking of my ideal date while walking home today TO TELL U UR EVENT HAS BEEN ON MY MIND… anyway, it deffo involves going to a museum because talking about the art works and interpreting them with someone is the most fun and it tells you a lot about how they think.. then, a stroll by the beach while eating ice cream is always nice (and romantic 😁) then sushi!!!! always my fav food, just a really chill date that allows deep convos to flow nicely hehe have funnnn with this!!! i love U congrats again <333

— the cupid's heard your wish, your match is hwang hyunjin .ᐟ

note: hi sahar bae <33 YOU'RE SO SWEET THANK U T_T sending you so much love 💞

playlist...

baby i'm yours by arctic monkeys ・ sweet creature by harry styles ・ my kind of woman by mac demarco ・ i want to hold your hand by the beatles ・ moonlight by ariana grande ・ can't take my eyes off you by frankie valli

trope...

what if. What if. sahar what if i give u. nerd hyune. nerd x popular trope!!! hyunjin's like super surprised that the cool girl he's been admiring from afar likes art just like him and plans the best date ever <3

headcanons...

picture this. nerdy hyune who'd stare at you from afar, blushing everytime your eyes meet in a lecture.

at one point, he stirs up the courage to finally talk to you and he's pleasantly surprised that you like art like him too!!

once you start dating i feel like he'd bring you to see all the exhibitions he wants to see. hyunjin loves the way you'd stare at the artworks with sparks in your eyes, loves discussing about each piece with you.

lots of picnic dates too!!! count on him to bring you your favourite food.

omg trying to make homemade sushi with him would be funny too. ends up failing and y'all will just eat the ingredients.

can and will draw you all the time. a lot of the pages of his sketchbook has little sketches of you. he's an obsessive boyfriend tbh he'll make his entire personality about you.

the kind of boyfriend to bring you up in every conversation. oh my girlfriend taught me this, oh my girlfriend likes that brand, oh my girlfriend showed me this meme. all the time!!!

100% gushes about you to his friends. you'll meet changbin one day and he goes, "oh yeah how was the new cafe you tried out?" like hyunjin will tell his friends abt you so much that it's like his friends are now yours too.

you're forever his muse. whether it be the inspiration to his paintings or his songs, you're on his mind always.