#i actually do genuinely enjoy updating the tags

[yellowsubiesdance]

i need to shower so i can wake up at ass o’clock again tomorrow and do this shit all over again

[batfossil-fr]

I’ve been really thinking of reopening my art shop soon… I’ve been taking some practice doodles (hence all the posting lately) while I shake off my rust and I’m finding things I enjoy working on again. I miss trying my hand at more dragons/OCs and colors. my shop’s so broken rn lmao but that’s a problem for a later date it’s just nice getting back into art

[boltonbritreads]

🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

[foodiegoogie]

epiphanies over hotpot

james potter x gn!reader ✮ 1.6k summary: james comes to an illuminating realization when he sees you do something so unexpected for him. cw/tags: established relationship, james is SUPER whipped, mention of food, but the vibes are cozy and domestic :> also, we acknowledge the fact that james is a little diva !

note: inspired by smth i saw on twitter that went like, “yeah sex is good and all but will u clean my glasses for me when im wearing the wrong type of shirt” HAHA (...will u?) anyway, hope u enjoy reading this!! <3 i enjoyed writing it sm hehe

James has always been a chatterbox. In fact, it’s usually a cause for concern whenever he goes nonverbal. He’s almost animated with how often he talks with his hands, or how his face contorts into various expressions—each one of them successfully depicting his emotions well. 

You had always been a listener; always preferred to be silent, always preferred to just listen. In fact, you were a good listener; always supplying enough replies to keep the conversation going, asking questions so they could continue talking because you’re genuinely interested in what you were listening about. 

This makes James—the hopeless romantic that he is—convinced that you were both made for each other. But aside from that, he’s also a firm believer of the “opposites attract” phenomenon. He likes to think that’s what makes the two of you so special, too.

Presently, he’s in the middle of bringing you up to date on the latest gossip in his workplace that you’ve been waiting to hear an update from. James is, as usual, using everything he can get his hands on—chopsticks, the few empty dishes on your table, paper napkins, the table itself—to recount to you what he witnessed as best as he could. 

Slightly out of breath from all the enthusiastic talking, James pauses to take a sip of his water. Then, when he continues, he raises a bowl of the steaming hot soup up to his lips. But the hot steam causes his glasses to fog, and he cuts himself off in the middle of his storytelling. 

“—Oh. Well, dammit. Now, I’ve gone blind.” 

You chuckle into the glass of water you’re drinking, eyes trained on James’ fogged up glasses, and the massive, goofy grin on his face as he, too, laughs at his unfortunate situation.

But he’s nothing if not dramatic about it first.

James sighs, exaggerated on purpose, though the smile is still plastered onto his lips. “Ah, well there you have it. The light of my life, laughing at my own expense. How it pains me!” 

You roll your eyes affectionately at his little act, setting the glass of water down in front of you. “Oh, I’m so sorry for laughing at you, my love. Will you ever forgive me for my grave mistake of doing so?”

Your boyfriend, still sporting his foggy glasses, tilts his head slightly to the side as he rubs his chin in thought, feigning consideration. 

“Hmm, well, if you’re offering to compensate me in some way… I have a few suggestions,” James smirks.

You let out a snort of laughter. “Of course, you do.” He only chuckles in response, only deciding now to take his glasses off and get the fog out before he’d actually go blind. James was already bordering on the line of being legally blind, and he’ll be damned if he unintentionally made his eyesight worse by something so stupid as letting it get foggy, and refusing to clean it up after.

Most of all, though, he strives to maintain his eyesight as it is right now so he could keep seeing you in all of your loveliness. 

“Crap,” Your boyfriend frowns, stilling as he looks down at the white dress shirt he was currently wearing. Miraculously, it was still spotless. You supposed he was looking down at some spot where he’d finally managed to drop some food on when he continued. 

“I can’t clean my glasses with this,” James says, his frustration clearly evident with the adorable pout decorating his lips. You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight of it. 

“Technically, you’re not supposed to clean your glasses with your shirt, Jamie.” 

He grumbles under his breath. “I know that, duh.”

Then, he pauses briefly, and starts looking around the table for a clean paper napkin. “But I don’t really bring the case and the cloth with me anymore because I wear ‘em all the time anyway.” 

You sigh from exasperation. “Then it’s your own fault that you can’t clean your glasses right now,” You replied, reaching over the table to take his glasses from him.

James was already halfway through another defensive reply when he felt his glasses be taken away from his grasp. 

“Hey, what are you—“

Wordlessly, you start cleaning the lenses of his glasses up with a small, seemingly soft cloth you’d brought out from your handbag. It catches him off guard, and his heart pitter-patters with the feeling he always gets when he sees you for the first time after being apart for so long, or when you kiss him silly in your slightly bolder moments. 

As if it was just natural that you were doing this for him, you continued. “I mean, honestly, James. You’ve been wearing glasses for ages. You should know better by now.” 

He’s suddenly feeling a thousand different things, and thinking a thousand different thoughts, all at once. No, he wasn’t being dramatic this time. It was real. This was real. He was currently watching you, a literal angel sent from the heavens above and so lovingly bestowed upon him as his lover, clean his very own glasses for him. 

Just for him. Like, what?

So, maybe James was being a little dramatic. All you were doing was clean a pair of glasses anyway, there was nothing groundbreaking about it. You weren’t down on one knee and asking him to marry you. 

No, no. That wasn’t it. Actually, he may as well propose right then and there. This simple, yet so warm and thoughtful, gesture of yours had single-handedly made him fall deeper in love with you, so much so that he feels it strongly, he’s starting to think it’s not just the spice of the brothy soup you’ve both been sharing that’s making him feel a little woozy, and emboldened. 

“Marry me,” James blurts out with a breathless, almost dreamy sigh. 

“Sorry, what?” 

His heart kind of drops to his stomach at the nonchalant tone in your words, taking it in an entirely different context than yours. But James knows you really hadn’t heard him, of course. It was more like a murmur than anything that had come out of him. 

He suddenly falls over his words, increasingly getting flustered as you hand him back his glasses. He takes it with slightly trembling hands, prays that you don’t notice, and puts it back on in a rush. 

Once a much clearer sight of you finally comes into his view, James suddenly forgets how to function like a normal human being. Instead, he just stares at you in silent, but unabashed awe. 

“Er, James?” 

“Er.. yes, love?” 

“Are you alright?” 

“What? No. Yeah. M’fine.” He replies at once, mashing all the words in one quick breath. 

“O…kay,” You say, clearly suspicious of his suddenly odd behaviour. “What were you saying earlier? Couldn't catch it, really.” 

“Bury me," James answers, unblinking. "I said, ‘bury me.’” 

“‘Bury you?’” You clarify in a surprised huff of laughter. “Why would I do that?” 

Because I almost proposed to you and nearly put you in the hot seat. 

“Because this broth is just so good,” James punctuates his answer with a quick sip from his bowl of the aromatic, spicy beef broth that he’d been wanting to finish since a while ago. Before–well, before he suddenly felt like marrying you on the spot. 

A beat passes as you try to piece your boyfriend’s vague statements together. “You.. want me to bury you… in the soup?” 

“Yep,” He confirms. “I want you to bury me in the soup.” 

“James,” You chuckle. The corners of James’ lips twitch upward like a reflex reaction to the sound. “I am not burying you in hotpot. That’s ridiculous!” 

“I don’t care. I mean, since when am I not ridiculous?” 

You nod your head thoughtfully. “Okay, true.” 

James continues. “It’s just so good that I wanna take it with me to the afterlife. Heck, I think I’m even gonna ask for its hand in marriage right now.”

Way to go, Potter. Real subtle.

He foresees the teasing comment in your smirking lips. This time, he doesn’t know how to feel. On one end of the spectrum, he kind of wants to throw caution to the wind and kiss you until you forget about teasing him altogether. But on the other side, he’s resigned to his fate; and besides, it’s not like he doesn’t enjoy the added attention, anyway. 

“Oh, so you’re just gonna ask for its hand in marriage right now? Is that it?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I just said.” 

“So what am I to you now?” 

“The love of my life,” James answers in a heartbeat, shrugging nonchalantly as if the answer was common sense. “Why are you asking this?” 

“Well, since you’re marrying this array of—“ You gesture around your table of various dishes of Chinese cuisine, emphasizing the boiling pot of soup in the middle. “—well, our dinner, I figured I must be out of the picture by then.” 

Your boyfriend’s jaw drops, gasping in mock-horror as he clutches his chest dramatically with his hand. You bite your lip to trap the giggles that threaten to erupt from your mouth. 

The two of you continue to tease and play along with each other for the rest of your time at the restaurant then. All the while, James becomes more aware of the little box sitting in his drawer back at home, containing the beautiful diamond ring that he’d bought on the very same day he’d seen it for the first time.

It made him think of you just as quickly as how you, who wordlessly cleaned his glasses for him, made him think of proposing on the spot. 

can i just say that this relationship is the kind that i want 4 myself ,,, fuck 😭 anywayyyyy thank u sm for reading! likes, reblogs, n comments are always appreciated <3

[mntozakii]

sugar — lee haechan

pairing: haechan x female reader

tags: stepcest, age gap (6 years), unprotected sex, haechan is a little bit insane but it's fine ☹️

note: been having haechan brainrot so plz enjoy this

minors do not interact and all characters are in legal age

[unedited]

before your first encounter with the boy, his father has warned you that his son can be very mischievous. it turned out to be wrong because the haechan that you met was silent, you didn't have to know that he was actually angry. he believed that a pretty girl like you shouldn't be around men like his father, he knew that his workaholics father will neglect you in the future.

much to your delight, haechan warmed up and became closer to you since his father is always on a business trip. haechan just absolutely adore the way his father's young trophy wife showed up to his soccer games, coding competition, and took care of him like a good mommy. in return, he gave you a lot of affection and love. your sweet boy haechan who never disrespect you, listened to you more than his father, and indulged into your silly little hobbies. he didn't mind to follow around the store like a kicked puppy as you spend his father's black card.

haechan who can't be mean with you. at first, he wanted to make your life miserable but you were so kind and lovely to him. you think of him so fondly that it never crossed on your mind that he's taking advantage of you.

haechan who whines about his sore back so you will massage him and he finds it amusing that you laugh whenever he moans, if only you knew that haechan creamed his pants.

haechan who loves to share his food and feels his pupils dilate whenever your mouth opens nicely as he feeds you.

haechan who offers to do the laundry so he can steal your panties, he secretly touches himself with the flimsy silk.

to be honest, you weren't bothered with haechan's behaviour since you've seen how the boy acted around his relatives and friends. you assumed that it was only natural for him to be so attached with you, after all you're his new mother.

haechan has to thank his parents for making baby as his nickname because now he gets to hear you call him baby everyday.

"baby, don't forget to eat your breakfast"

"haechan baby, can you help me with the grocery?"

"good job baby, you're so smart"

four years went by and your sweet sunshine is no longer a pretty boy, he stood taller than you and looked intimidating than ever. however, he was still the same cheeky boy you've know. haechan attended law school, following his father's path. to be frank, it wasn't his first option but you had beg so prettily for him to listen to his father.

even though haechan was hundred miles away from you, he will still occasionally visit you. besides, he texted you everyday and updated you with everything. you knew the names of the professors that he hated, his pretentious classmates, and his roomate jeno.

"i want to see your face" haechan sent a selfie of him on bed with his messy brown hair.

"i'm on a date" you sent a selfie with his father which he replied with an eye roll emoji. you probably laugh at his choice of emoji but he genuinely felt pissed off. all he wanted was to see your face and he got a picture of the old man kissing your cheek.

"i miss having meals with you" haechan sent a picture of his pathetic dinner that consisted of ramen, few packs of sandwiches, and milk.

"my baby, please eat a proper meal" you sighed as you looked at his simple dinner, you'll remind your husband to pay extra attention to his allowance.

when haechan had few days off from school, he decided to suprise you by taking a flight home. upon his arrival, he was flustered to hear choked cries coming from your room. he knows that his father was home so he opted to peek from behind the door, his face turned into a soft frown when he saw your naked body on his father's lap.

"honey, please, i want to have a child with you" his heart burned with jealousy watching you hold his father's face as you cried, he never get to see your vulnerability before.

"i feel alone, the house seems so empty without haechan. it is a perfect timing for us to raise a child together, right?" his heart broke seeing your attempt to convince his father, haechan felt your frustration by the strong grip on the older man's shirt. he never know that you felt alone while he was away, he felt even worse when the accompany that you now wanted was in a form of a child.

"my sweetheart, i understand how you feel but can you wait for a few more months? once everything is settled at the firm, we will talk about this again" haechan had to physically control himself from letting a scoff, he knew that his father's promise meant nothing. the younger man headed to his room while he waited for his father to return to his office.

as soon as he heard the car left, he went outside to find you. his lips turned into a smirk when he saw you eating a pint of ice-cream, he was quick to attack you with a tight hug. you let out a shriek before hitting his chest when you realised it was haechan.

"haechan, you didn't tell me that you were coming home!" you reciprocated his hug and chuckled when the brunet pecked you on the cheek.

"i wanted to surprise you" he mumbled as he wiped the cream at the corner of your lips, he pulled you to the couch and kept you close to him. he wrapped his hand around your shoulder as he listened to you while the movie play mindlessly in the background.

"baby, have some" haechan smiled when you fed him the ice-cream. he found it very cute when you call him baby because he liked to take advantage of it, it almost felt like you will always forgive him for his mistakes.

haechan loved whenever you wear polo shirt especially if it was paired with a mini skirt. today, you were wearing his favourite white shirt paired with a midi skirt. you looked so beautiful, he can't help but to stare at your thighs through the slit of the skirt.

"why are you so pretty today? i want to play with you" his hand slid inside the skirt before he softly rubbed your inner thigh while maintaining eye contact with you. it wasn't unusual for haechan to be clingy but he should never touch you in that way.

"haechan, what are you doing?" your heart pounded heavily when his hand dangerously headed north.

"baby, your hand—" you tried to push it away but it was no use, his grip only tighten on your body. haechan leaned closer to leave wet kisses on your neck, he missed you so much.

"no— haechan, we cannot do this" your second attempt to shove him away failed since he was so much stronger than you, he didn't even budge at all.

"hmm, why can't we do this?" his mellifluous voice whined before he pulled you to his lap, his hands rested on your side as he eyefucked you.

"my father doesn't want to put a baby into you and i want to do the opposite of that, isn't that good?" his voice made the question sounded so innocent meanwhile in reality, he was talking about making you pregnant with his child. he must've overheard your talk with your husband, you wanted to believe that haechan was just confused with his feelings towards you.

"haechan, your father will get very mad at you" you mumbled as you reached for his hands, holding them tightly so he won't touch you again. haechan admired your effort to put him in his place, it was an adorable attempt. he easily pulled his hands away from you before carrying you to his room, he made sure to lock the door before cornering you to his bed.

"baby, baby, baby" he mocked the way your small voice always call for his name, he took off his shirt and sat on the bed. you can't help but to notice how different he looked now, his body was becoming lean and his features has developed into a handsome man. haechan held your hand as you stood still with guilt written all over your face.

was it your fault for spoiling haechan rotten until he thinks that he can get whatever he wants?

was it your fault for not creating a clear boundaries with your step son?

was it your fault for getting a little aroused with his little antics today?

"mommy, give me a chance to please you" haechan begged with the prettiest doe eyes ever, you are aware that you can say no, leave his room, and pretend that nothing happened but something inside you was thrilled to see more of him.

haechan grew impatient waiting for your reply, he decided to have you on his lap again before a brilliant idea popped out.

"you can tell me to stop and i will" haechan promised before he unbuttoned your shirt, he tried to read your expression but failed to do so. haechan chuckled seeing purple bruises all over your chest, you must had a steamy night yesterday.

"my father is a greedy bastard, isn't he?" he muttered before doing the exact thing that his father did to you last night, except haechan was aiming for your neck.

"baby, not on the neck, he will notice it" you pulled on his hair to take a look at his face, he seemed to be disappointed when he failed to mark you.

his hands gently groped on your tits and nipples, he alternated in between sucking, biting, and pulling on your hard buds. haechan felt his ego skyrocketed when you started to whimper and begged for more.

haechan positioned you to lay down comfortably on his bed before he took off your panties, he kept the skirt on because it looked lovely on you. haechan couldn't believe that he was finally staring at your naked body, he had been fantasizing this for years.

"such a pretty pussy" haechan praised you and chuckled when he noticed your hole clenched at nothing, he didn't know that you were already leaking wet.

"hmm, it's so tight, does he not fuck you at all?" haechan queried as he stuffed your hole with his middle finger, he moaned seeing you tighten around his digit. since he was eager to satisfy you, he added another finger and played with your clit using his other hand.

instead of making you reach your high, haechan kept on edging until you became so frustrated. he will rub your clit in the most delicious circles and stopped whenever you're almost close. the moment when he noticed your legs started to twitch, he will take his hand off your pussy and let you cry for more.

"haechan, don't be mean to me" you had to hold back a sob because you've been denied for so many times and it felt so painful. you tried to touch yourself but he gently smacked your clit as a warning, he wanted to see you come on his cock instead of his fingers. he got on top of you and let your legs rest on his shoulders, he gave a few kisses on your calf before pulling out his dick.

"i prepped you so well, you should be able to take it like a good girl, right?" he rubbed the tip on your entrance and slightly pushed the tip to elicit another moan from you.

one thing that haechan had always dreamt off was kissing you, he had various imagination to kept him on edge whenever he jerked off. he used to imagine fucking you on the mattress that you share with his father, he also fantasized about fucking you in the kitchen too. today, he will do everything that he wanted for so many years.

haechan bit his lip as he slowly pushed himself inside your warm cunt, it felt so fucking good that he wanted to cry. haechan leaned closer to kiss your lips and giggled when he tasted the lip gloss, you had put it on him for fun before but it tasted so much sweeter on your lips.

"baby, what's so funny?" you asked then laughed when he shrugged it off and hid his face on your chest as his hips kept on thrusting into your poor hole.

"this is better than everything i used to dream off" haechan admitted before pulling you into another kiss, you realised that the brown haired boy liked to be messy when kissing. he was so desperate and wanted to swallow you whole if he could, he slowly trailed down to your neck and started to suck and bite on it.

"baby, be gentle with it" you reminded him as you caressed his hair, you admitted that he was doing so well and it scared you. the younger boy decorated your neck with fresh red marks before he intertwined your hands together.

"i'm going to fill you up with my seed, get you pregnant with my child, that'll make you a real mommy" haechan whispered before he continued to fuck you real hard, every each of his thrust hits your cervix and drove you to madness.

"baby, no— haechan, you have to pull out" your hands weakly push him away but it only fueled him to pound your hole mercilessly, he knew that you were close and he wanted to come together. a few more penetration and haechan felt your walls contracted tightly around his veiny cock, he shot ropes of warm semen inside your pussy.

you can't help but to whine at the warm feelings inside you, haechan panted softly as pulled you into a tight hug. he caressed your messy hair and adored the marks he left on your body.

"did i do a good job, mommy?"

[hoseoksluna]

THE BALL OF LIGHT, ii. | jjk

pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc

genre: angst

word count: 4.2k

summary: inside jeongguk's apartment is where you meet the possibility of life.

pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run

cp: ao3 / wp

warnings: mentions of smoking and vaping, described nudity, oc feels a lot of emotions and she's overwhelmed, guilt.

note: i really enjoyed writing this chapter and it opened my eyes actually to where it's going. i hope you like the chapter as well. writing about jungkook is my biggest comfort. i feel at home. i love you, guys. happy reading. don't forget to tell me what you think. i'd appreciate it if you tell me ur expectations. <3

side note: i also want to update my taglist because i feel like most of the people i tag haven't allowed themselves to be tagged on this app. if you want to be tagged in my works, let me know. in comments below or my askbox.

It seems as though Jeongguk is still turning your words over his heart once you arrive at his apartment and the sullen grayness of his personal space greets you. A certain pensive look, embellished with a wrinkle between his brows, paints him in the shades of stark reclusiveness, the unapproachability of that façade the blue highlights that make the current inertia of his usual hyperactivity uncannily animated. It’s an oxymoron, the stillness of his being, despite the fact you very vividly sense the turmoil happening inside his chest.

Turmoil must be second-nature to him. Almost like a friend.

You don’t know what to say. The downturned corners of his mouth are so engraved into your vision that when you look away, you can still see them. Sad and pouty, caused in most probability by the truth you uttered. War happens, Jeongguk, if Yoongi and I see each other outside of the walls of our home. Those were the most heart-felt, authentic words that were flung out of the chambers of your heart because—yes, if Yoongi were to know that you smoke one cigarette a day with a boy with a nicotine-addiction, a motorcycle and a tendency to go back to people who have spread agony down his lungs like the white fumes of his cigarettes, he would get up from the kitchen table and grab the nearest knife, start a war for your dream that, according to him, got interrupted by temporary, meaningless things.

But Jeongguk isn’t meaningless. You thought for the longest time that he was temporary, but his lingering presence through high school and now through uni convinced you of the opposite. You believe now, now as he bends at the waist to place a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers with a yummy fried egg on top in front of your icy-cold, socked feet, that he has more shape—the eyes of an angel born wrong, born human, the mouth of a saint that fears to say the wrong thing—than your dream does.

Your dream doesn’t have a face.

Your dream doesn’t have a meaning, either.

Yoongi knows this, pretends he knows the contours of that dream when he tells you to go study. Pretends he knows the color of its flesh, all the greens, purples and blues, when the only words he throws your way are of commanding nature. Come eat. Go shower. Go study. Don’t. You can’t recollect the last time you had a genuine conversation with him that did not include those very words.  

It’s exhausting. Your bones are burdened by it—by being treated as a student and not as a human being. But you ignore this because you respect him, hold him in high regard because of his own burden, laid heavy across the length of his shoulders that have become too thin, too skeletal, that have once been broad, beautiful and ogled by those, who had the luck to encounter him. 

He doesn’t go to the gym anymore, to fill the mass of his muscles with exercise. He works long hours doing food delivery to fill your tummy instead. 

And it’s hard—balancing your respect for him and your ostensibly inner desire to go in search of the things you read about in your books. You can’t help but expect to dig them out, selfishly, in Jeongguk. The kind, now somber, boy who has been by your side for so long. With words and simultaneously without. 

Would Yoongi understand? Doesn’t he, also, have a need for company? 

You push those thoughts away and focus on the clandestiny. On Jeongguk’s frown, on his adorable pout, on his emotions. Because perhaps in it you shall find your destiny. 

Jeongguk walks forward and you swell with the guilty need to fix what you’ve broken, to glue back the pieces that put together his traditional cheer. The tree in you shivers in cold. Your own bones are still frosty like that bus stop you both escaped from. But glancing at the span of his shoulders, drooped and rolled forward, the guilt expands, making you think that maybe you shouldn’t have said something, despite the fact the truth made a dent in the birdcage you have been dwelling in since the death of your parents. 

He empties out his pockets. Wallet, keys, phone, a pack of cigarettes, lighter and a pink, fat vape that you’ve never seen him smoking before. He places those essentials on the kitchen counter, stretching his hands backwards and ridding himself of his beige hoodie. The T-shirt he wears underneath rides up, exposing the smooth and muscled skin of his back, and your throat dries up at the sight. The tree stills, pacified by the movement of his shoulder blades. It puts a spell on you, this innocent yet consumingly heated view of a male’s body, one that continues burning down your body even when he grabs a hold of the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it down. 

Somehow, the act made it hotter. 

Your fingers wrap around your throat, a habit of yours that helps you compose yourself, ground yourself in the severity of the moment. Jeongguk reaches his hand towards the kitchen counter again and as you swallow with great difficulty, he fills his lungs with that scented fume before discarding it.

It isn’t until your breath comes out in pathetic staccatos that he turns around. Large eyes heavily lidded, clouded by that white smoke as he exhales. He purses his lips, dimples on full show, in order to make the smoke thinner. And that, the eye contact while blowing out the fumes, his full attention on you, the element that you’re here—in a boy’s apartment, all alone, for the first time, that warms up your bones, the frost melting away. You feel your body form little pearls of perspiration, overwhelmed and so suddenly overheated by his boyish beauty. 

He’ll never know—just like Yoongi. He’ll never know what he does to you. 

“I’m gonna make you some tea so you can get warm,” he says, softly, and shuffles his feet towards the brightly lit kitchen. You hear the water running, the clapping noise of the kettle being shut and then the boiling bubbles, but you’re frozen—red-hot and frozen—in the place you’re standing, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to be a normal human being. “You’re free to take a shower if you want.” 

A headache pierces through your undeveloped frontal lobe. Nothing about this is normal to you—being over a guy’s place, using his shower and his towel, drinking his tea. Being at home all the time never prepares you for this and while you feel so out of place, it also evokes the feeling of thrill. 

This is thrilling. 

And it should stay feeling that way, but your guilt eclipses it so quickly. Your guilt and your self-pity. Due to Yoongi, due to the fact that this should feel normal and that you should act normally. How many girls must’ve been in your place and how well they were able to talk to him and accept his kindness and hospitality without being weird about it. 

You run a hand down your face. Feel like crying. Feel like screaming. Feeling like slapping yourself so you snap out of it and act normal. Yoongi flickers in your chest, however, and you’re reminded that you should let him know where you are. Usually, at this hour, you’re settled in your cage. Right there in the corner, the only warm spot because you sit there all the time. But you’re not there. You fit your body through the slivers, your feet rubbing against the different, more warmer floor than the one inside your birdcage, while your wrist remains chained to the center. 

Your bus, the number 59, never came. Jeongguk’s, number 60, was the last one that came due to the thickness of the snow and he said that you should get on with him so you don’t freeze on the bus stop. I’ll drive you home on my bike, he promised. I got a helmet for you. And you agreed, despite the fact your thumb was ready to dial Yoongi’s number, because it came natural to you to follow a male’s order. 

You scratch your fingernails through your scalp, waking yourself up from the stupor, and you take a deep breath. You’re here and you’re safe. Jeongguk is the safest person you can go behind Yoongi’s back with. These are the words you internally repeat to yourself as you lift one leg and the other, watching where they take you. 

You wind up at the very edge of the counter where all of Jeongguk’s essentials lay scattered. You go to study all the charms hung over his keys when your fingers, somehow instinctively, take a hold of his pink vape. Light and pink, fitting just right in the palm of your hand. Your clandestine habits are invariably seen by Jeongguk, however. 

“Don’t puff on that,” he says, pouring the boiling water inside the kettle over your cup of tea. A Christmas-themed one, evidently for adults only. The taupe Gingerbread man has a raging, bare boner that sticks out to the side whilst his hands are lifted, cheerfully, in the air. Your mouth parts, blush coloring your cheeks in dusty pink, and your brain, bizarrely, connects the Gingerbread man’s emotion to Jeongguk—both emotions, in fact. So bizarrely that anger begins to grow in you because a picture of Jeongguk’s own happy boner pops up before your eyes. Big, hard, leaking. Your stifling heat descends to your lower regions and you have to rub your eyelids in order to stop seeing it, your cheeks scalding, embarrassingly hot. “It’s not good to mix it.” 

Without asking, he places one spoon of sugar inside that obscene cup, stirring it diligently. And the clinking noise rams a clapping monkey inside your brain. 

You’ll die. From this headache, from the heat, from how irresistible this boy is. 

You’ve never felt this way before towards him. Never seen him in this lustful light before. And you don’t know what to do—it’s towering you, so much bigger than you and you have very little strength to stand up to it. 

It’s not good to see your so-called friend like this. 

Jeongguk brings the cup over to you, placing it before his stuff. The Gingerbread man faces you, smiling ever so gleefully, and the blush of your cheeks deepens within this proximity. Jeongguk takes his vape from your hand and puffs on it—and your brain remembers what he just talked about. 

“But you mix it,” you say, your words dripping with confusion, and Jeongguk places the device back into your palm, the tips of his fingers brushing against your flesh. You regard it as intimate, that brief physical contact, and it speeds up your heartbeat. 

That touch-starved you are. 

“I shouldn’t, but I do,” he responds, his pretty eyelashes static, unblinking, those macadamia chocolate pools of his penetrating your pupils. “I try to stick to just one from time to time, but my nerves are asking for more.” 

You look down at the pink device, imagine it’s his hand that you’re closing your fingers over. Think his explanation has zero backbone, and so your confusion drips on. 

“Nerves?” you inquire, a wrinkle appearing between your brows akin to his, even though his has been smoothed out. It seems his act of service to you is slowly easing his sombreness. 

Jeongguk doesn’t want to elaborate, though. He flicks his eyes towards the cup and nods, just once, encouraging you to drink. You let out a quiet huff of a scoff. Consider it strange that he’s so unwilling to expand on this matter when he has shared with you in the past the reason behind his smoking habit. Trauma from his relationship with Ka-eun and the difficulty of his field. What else is behind those nerves of his that you can’t know about? 

You follow the trace of his gaze towards the cup, feeling smaller than you are. Incompetent, inexperienced for the vivacity, immensity of his life that looks nothing like yours. Your pointer finger pokes out, clicking against the emerald green handle. 

“Am I supposed to really drink from this?” you murmur, meaning it as a joke that would fix what you cooked in this situation, but it comes out much sadder than you planned, the hollowness from all of your lacks coating your vocal cords. 

Jeongguk scowls and turns the cup around, his brows springing upwards as he glances at the naked and aroused Gingerbread man. You begin to anticipate his laughter that would make you feel worse about yourself, but it never breezes through. 

Actually, Jeongguk apologizes. Makes a big deal out of it. 

“My God,” he sighs, adding your name, running his fingers through his hair before he puts the cup away, but you stop him by enveloping your fingers across the warm, naked skin of his forearm. His eyes widen en route to yours and he holds the misting cup in his hand, immune to its hot temperature. The good ones don’t get burned, your mother would say with hatefulness whenever your fingers would get burned by steaming cups and hot running water in the sink, and she proves you right in this moment. You bet she smiles in her grave, seeing from the afterlife that you are indeed bad while the others are good. “I didn’t notice. I have one just like this, but he’s dressed. I thought I’d pulled out that one. I’m sorry.” 

But you’re not scandalized by it. As a matter of fact, you like the little Christmas man—there’s something oddly comforting about his own comfort in his sexuality, smiling as gleefully as he is. What you said was a stupid joke, one that shouldn’t have left your mouth. 

“No, I don’t mind. It’s fine. It was just a joke,” you say, hurriedly, sweeping your eyes over his in the same pace whilst he remains calmly staring at you, a steady stream of thoughts filtering through those features of his that you wish you knew the contents of. 

You always said you’d die for knowledge, and right now you’d die to discover what he’s thinking about, looking at you the way that he is. 

He flattens his lips. “I’ll make you another one.” 

He turns around and you yelp your disagreement, cupping your hands around his. And the greater intimacy of this physical contact consumes you whole. 

The heat grows, your spine wet with perspiration. Jeongguk swivels his head back, the shorter pieces of his hair swooshing past his forehead, landing on those pretty, pretty eyelashes. And it’s his turn to part his mouth, for blush to creep up his pale cheeks, and your heart—it melts. 

You’ve never held hands with a boy before. And right now, you’ve come very close to doing it. In fact, the tender grip bears the resemblance of hand holding and you can’t take it. 

A pained, indistinct pout quivers on your lips. A characteristic expression of yours, which conveys that something has hurt you. Your mother would give you a hard time because of it and that’s how you learned that you do it. That’s how you learned how to fleetly hide it, too. 

This is the closest you’ll ever get. 

Tears rush to your waterline. You blink it away, stretching your lips into a little, neutral smile. The scent of cinnamon and cloves from the tea hits your nostrils and from the edges of your palms, you feel how hot the cup really is. It sobers you up quite rapidly. 

“It’s hot, set it down,” you breathe and don’t let go of his hands until Jeongguk complies, the pensiveness back to shadowing his face, but he’s not unapproachable, not at all. The entirety of his dispirited and contrite aura is welcoming, pastel blue instead of that grayish undertone, and he looks at you as if you held the entire world in your palms and he was content with just being near it, silently hoping you show him grace and give it to him. 

But that’s not you. You’re too small to cup this world. Too stupid, too unfledged. 

It’s him who’s flown around it, deeply acknowledged with it. Who’s smart, who’s a full-fledged bird, unlimited and unhindered. 

It’s you who should be looking at him like that and drinking from his vulgar cup. 

And you shall. 

“I’ll drink it, it’s cute.” 

He doesn’t trust it, though, and that’s the scar Ka-eun carved into the flesh of his mind. You brush the pads of your fingers across it, however, when you take the scalding cup to your lips, blow on it and take a small, hesitant sip of it. And the wintry taste of cinnamon and cloves, it is the sap to your tree. 

You hum in delight, taking another sip, even though the temperature burns the tip of your tongue. You watch as Jeongguk’s brows twitch and as a certain glimmering glint of endearment laced with unbelief fills his eyes with the canvas of stars. He straightens his spine while you swallow, his lungs inhaling and exhaling slowly but surely. 

It is a sight to behold, the entirety of his boyish beauty. And you hate that you regard him this way, that your forced visit caused this because you’ll walk out of this door with a longing entwined around your heart.

A longing for him to be yours. 

You set the cup down, cradling it in your palms, your sweat clinging to your body. Jeongguk averts his gaze and rubs his chest, roaming his eyes everywhere but on you, landing on the pink vape you placed on the counter before almost-holding his hand. 

But he doesn’t take a puff of it. Not this time. 

And you want to heal that scar of his even more. Only because he pushed you very close to the things you read in your books and always wanted to experience. 

“I think the tea tastes so good because you made it in this cup,” you chirp, tenderly, giving him a genuine smile, one that Jeongguk doesn’t reciprocate. That one corner of his mouth doesn’t lift, the long cleft of his dimple doesn’t appear. Your heart trembles for a brief moment. In a foreign kind of emotion that feels like fear but isn’t because the turmoil in him rages on and you’re useless. Completely and utterly useless in your efforts. 

His stare is deadly, marked by the depth of his thoughts. 

“Why did you say war happens if you and your brother see each other outside?” he asks, his tone low and grumbling. 

A frightening question. Because no one has ever asked you that. Because you’ve never had the chance to answer such an intimate, personal question. Because no one has ever cared about your home situation. 

The trembling of your heart reaches your entire body and you hide your hands behind your back. Lament that you can’t cradle the cup. Lament that you can’t drink it and postpone your response. Lament that you don’t have a normal life. One worth talking about happily, that is. 

You don’t know what to say. How to begin, how to string the words together in a way that he would understand. And it’s not that you fear that he will judge you; it’s that you fear that the way he looks at you, regards you will forever change. 

You were never the cool girl and you never were the weird girl, either. Somewhere in the middle you stand, solitary and detached, regardless. 

You open your mouth, willing the words to spring out of you on their own, without any careful thoughts to cover them. 

“Yoongi wants me to live a life that doesn’t look like this,” you start, mirroring his tone, unable to look him in the eye. You sense the demons of your guilt and your ungratefulness cornering you, coming closer and closer—and you can’t walk away, you can only speak.

Jeongguk, however, is quick and curt with his following question.  

“Like what?” 

The pearls of your perspiration thicken on the planes of your throat, which constricts. You blink, thinking that you don’t wish to offend him with any formulation of your sentences. So you go around it, hoping he understands. The demons inch closer—and you can’t breathe. 

Jeongguk doesn’t blink, focused intently as he is on the emotions written on your form. It creates a delicate, yet protective ring around you that keeps the demons outside. And he lessens your strange fear owing to that.

“He wants me to focus on school and focus on my dream while he takes care of everything else. It was a deal he made between us. I study, he works. Nothing else,” you continue, and Jeongguk bites his lip, nodding in understanding as he glides his eyes down your face to your sweat-coated neck. For some reason, that little act of his acknowledgement dispels those demons—and you no longer feel guilty, you no longer feel ungrateful because Jeongguk validated those emotions, didn’t scrunch his nose at them. And that heals, little by little, your wounded, flightless bird wings. 

“What does your dream look like?” he asks once again, and you wonder at the formulation of his question. It’s not what’s your dream; he’s asking for a description of the biggest mystery of your life. 

And you chuckle, humorlessly. Jeongguk flicks his gaze back to your eyes, seemingly not knowing what to expect.

“That’s the thing,” you say. “I don’t know what it looks like, and Yoongi doesn’t know either.” 

The roundness of his eyelids spasms, as if the truth you just uttered irks him. The validation grows and buds of blossoms sprout open, in the middle of this sunless winter, upon the twigs of the tree within you. 

“He doesn’t know what your dream is and yet he decided how you should live,” Jeongguk scoffs, shaking his head, and you marvel at the light bursting in your sternum. It is the sun to your growth, to your tree’s growth. 

A moment of bliss that is too brief, for you begin to sense an uncompromising responsibility to stand up for your brother. He means well—he’s doing it out of the love and kindness of his heart as the root of this declared problem is literature. 

And literature is your life. It’s all you know. 

You begin to say these words, but Jeongguk interrupts you. 

“I understand, but you need to live a life that you want to live,” he rasps, standing taller than he was a minute ago, greater and powerful than he ever was. That confident and assured he is in his opinion and you gawk at him as if he were a cult leader, about to change the course of your life. Maybe, just maybe, the cinnamon tea was the kool aid—and you want to drink again, but you’re ashamed of the trembling of your hands. “And if you feel like you’re indebted to him, you shouldn’t. You’re an adult. It’s your life, it’s not his just because he’s older.” 

Your throat dries and you risk it all, enveloping your fingers around the cup. Jeongguk’s all seeing eye notices your movement and his powerfulness drops. He sighs, rubbing his eyes. 

Bare, bare you are all for him to see. For anyone for the first time in your life—and at this point, you don’t even know how it makes you feel. 

Where light and so many emotions were inside you, emptiness falls like fine dust. You’re reminded of that one sentence in White Nights and, quietly, you reflect on it while your fingers tremble on. 

My God, a moment of bliss. Why isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime? 

Jeongguk makes space, like the ring of protection he created around you, by taking a few steps back and leaning against the counter. He crosses his arms over his chest and simply looks at you, reads your body language, and lingers at your hands. At the fact you don’t drink. At the fact you don’t speak. At the fact that nothing will ever be the same after this conversation. 

When he asks his last question, he softens his voice. His demeanor, too. Allows his arms to plummet down to his sides. Sags against the counter. 

“He doesn’t know we’re friends, does he?” 

Something that resembles a cry leaves your mouth and you’re so shocked by the freedom of your emotions that your hand leaps to cup your mouth, as if to hold back any more outpouring. That is your reaction. 

Jeongguk’s is more earth-shattering. 

By his instinct, he lengthens his spine and his hand… his beautiful, strong and veiny hand jerks towards your direction, as if to catch your hand, prevent it from hiding your outpouring—or as if to catch your outpouring alone. 

And it is so heartbreaking to you that you mutter the first thing that comes to your mind and run away. 

And you don’t realize where you are until you get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. A mascara tear stains your cheek in blackness, and the smallness of the bathroom encloses around you. 

You want to wash it away. Feel like the decision is yours to make, a right one at that. Feel like it’s the first step in the new way Jeongguk bestowed over your life by his wise words. And so you undress. 

And you don’t lock the door. 

And you don’t hear your phone ringing ten minutes later. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[genericpuff]

in the wake of LO ending, especially over the next three weeks as the FP updates become free, this is your public service reminder from a fellow anti that you should be following tumblr / fandom etiquette and keeping antiLO/critical LO posts to their respective tags (#antiloreolympus , #antilo, #locritical, #loreolympuscritical) as best as you can

yes, it's our own responsibility to curate our online experiences by following the accounts we like and blocking the accounts we don't, and using the general search bar on tumblr absolutely opens you up to the inevitable risk of seeing something you don't wanna see, but we as the critical side of the fandom should be doing what we can to make it easier for people to curate by labelling our criticisms / shitposts / etc. about LO with the correct tags ! this ensures that if someone doesn't want to see anti/critical stuff, they can do their part to block those tags and don't have to worry about it leaking into the general tags. I don't think it's that big of a reach to expect that general fandom tags will contain content from, y'know... people who are still genuine fans and not talking shit LOL

And yes, this is why you will not see me ever using the general loreolympus tags when posting my own critical essays or Rekindled. Obviously what you decide to tag your stuff with is on you, but I'm gonna ask y'all to please remember NOT to use general loreolympus tags when reblogging my stuff!! that's not to say my content is entirely off-limits to fans of the comic (we actually do have people in the Rekindled community who enjoy both!), but what I do here obviously isn't tailored specifically to general fans of the comic and the general LO tags are what those fans are using to find content from other fans, not hyper-driven maniacal anti's like myself ╭( ･ㅂ･)و

Just because it's no longer an unpopular opinion to rag on LO doesn't mean our slice of the fandom is now the whole pie. It's easy to think when you spend so much time in the critical part of the fandom that LO is somehow "dead" but like, there is still very much a dedicated fanbase to this comic and it still has some of the highest stats on the platform. We can't in good faith complain about fans coming into our spaces complaining about criticism existing if we're not gonna follow the rules of etiquette and label our stuff properly. And hey, at the very least if we properly tag things and they still find it from journeying into the anti/critical tags, then that's on them at that point. We don't have to take that "stop being such a meanie to two-time-Eisner-winning NYT bestselling creator Rachel Smythe" shtick from anyone, but we do gotta be willing to respect the lines that are drawn in the sand so that we don't tear each other apart over this dumbass webcomic LOL

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part Four)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage! Thanks so much xxx Thank you @blondie-22 for some amazing ideas...

Over the next few days, Cillian made a conscious effort to distance himself from you. You noticed the change in his behavior, the way he would avoid eye contact, his brusque responses, and the forced smiles. 

He was nice enough, but it was clear that there was some kind of wall between you, and you wondered whether your mother had something to do with it. Maybe she was upset that he treated you well or maybe she knew that, perhaps, you had too much in common. 

Your mother had always enjoyed her new status, as a wife of a Hollywood actor, and she wasn't afraid to use it to get what she wanted.

Free designer clothes, constant attention, and invitations to red-carpet events which, quite obviously, Cillian himself hated and so did you.

You hated all the attention and publicity so much that you had distanced yourself from everything to do with it and, whilst Cillian had been known as a lady's man in the past, since Sadie was born, he became somewhat domesticated.

Your mother, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on the attention. She loved attending parties and events, pretending as though Cillian was some sort of ‘trophy’ husband and this always made you wonder what he actually saw in her when they met.

Your mother was, and still is, incredibly attractive, but surely, this couldn't be enough to keep a man like Cillian in a loveless marriage for so long?

As far as you knew, Cillian was a good person. It just made no sense as to why he wouldn't leave your mother, who you despised, and find someone who genuinely cared about him.

You watched him from afar, sitting on the couch by himself, trying to make sense of the situation. You couldn't quite figure him out and, despite the distance he so evidently tried to keep from you, you still felt drawn to him somehow.

He had just had yet another argument with your mother, and as usual, she had stormed off without talking things out, leaving him on his own with you in the house. 

You took this as an opportunity to join him, wanting to offer some form of support or comfort, unsure of whether or not he would accept it.

"Hey," you greeted him softly, as you took a seat on the chair opposite him, trying your best not to make things awkward between you two.

Cillian looked up from where he was seated, a pained expression on his face, and you couldn't help but feel a tug in your chest in response.

You had known that things between your mother and him were complicated, but you hadn't realized just how much until now. 

He wiped at his face with the back of his hand, and you could see the exhaustion etched deep into his features. 

"Hey , you okay?" you asked, your voice softer now, and you could feel the concern oozing out of every word you spoke.

Cillian sighed before taking a deep breath. "Yeah, just the usual," he replied, attempting to force a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He looked absolutely drained, and all you wanted to do was wrap him up in a warm embrace and tell him that everything would be okay.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked tentatively, not wanting to push him but feeling the need to help in some way.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, looking as if he was debating whether or not to open up. Finally, he let out a sigh and began to speak.

"I appreciate it, but no," he said with a distant look in his eyes, stumbling over his words. "You are my stepdaughter, and it would be quite inappropriate for me to discuss the issues between your mother and I with you."

You nodded in understanding, feeling the distance between you two widen. "Of course," you said with a small, reassuring smile. "But if there's anything you want to get off your chest, I am here."

A silent moment passed before Cillian replied, "I appreciate that, Y/N", before telling you that your mother had decided to go away with Cliona, on a retreat, while Sadie was spending some time with her grandparents in Cork.  "Your mother will drop Sadie off in Cork and then travel down to Kerry, to stay at our holiday house for the week with Cliona," he explained, as you frowned in response.

"How convenient," you then chuckled as this, in itself, did not surprise you. Your mother had a habit of walking away from her problems rather than facing them. On top of that, in recent days, she had referred to you as a criminal and voiced her concerns about Sadie being around you, which  hurt you deeply - both as a daughter and as a prospective role model for the young girl.

"I wouldn't take it personally Y/N," Cillian assured, his gaze locked with yours. "It's got nothing to do with you," he began, searching for the right words to explain, but you simply interrupted him. "It's because of me, I think," he then added but you shook your head. 

"It's got everything to do with me. She doesn't want me to be around her and her family as, apparently, I am a bad influence for Sadie," you replied, anger seeping into your voice, though you managed to hold back the tears.

"I am sorry Y/N," Cillian murmured sympathetically, unsure what else to say, but before he could even attempt to speak another sentence, you carried on. 

You sighed deeply, shaking your head in frustration. "Do you know why I am here, Cillian?" you asked, curiosity piqued in your voice.

Cillian sighed again, running a hand through his hair before looking at you. "Because  your mother was worried about you, I suppose," he answered, his voice heavy.

"No, I am here because, if I had gone into custody instead, this would have given her a bad reputation, even though I didn't know about the goddamn drugs in my bag! I don't take fucking drugs and I don't sell them either but, of course, she wouldn't believe that,"  you explained, anger and frustration bubbling in your voice.

"Well, for what it's worth, I do believe you," Cillian said, clearly meaning it. 

"That's something I suppose," you chuckled slightly, though you weren't entirely convinced that your mother would ever see things from your perspective.

A silence unfolded between the two of you, as Cillian tried to find the right words to say. Finally, he spoke, "You know, Y/N, you and your mother are very different people. You are creative and you clearly think in different ways to her which is something she might feel threatened by sometimes."

You looked at Cillian, surprised at this new perspective. "I never thought of it like that," you admitted, your voice quieter now. "But it's more than just her being threatened by my choices - she doesn't support me either which, as my mother, she should," you told him before letting out a deep, exasperated sigh.

Cillian nodded, understanding your point of view. "I think that's fair," he agreed. "But, you know, sometimes people struggle to understand or accept what they don't know or can't relate to. It's not ideal, and it certainly isn't an excuse, but it does happen, even in families."

You nodded, taking in his words. "Yeah, maybe you're right," you conceded. "And I appreciate your perspective on this, so thank you."

Cillian smiled warmly. "You're welcome. And I appreciate your offer earlier too. It means a lot," he said, his voice warm and genuine. 

"You are welcome too," you winked, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled slightly at your gesture, and it was then that he realised that, in the coming days, with everyone else gone, it would be much harder for  him to maintain his distance from you despite his decision to do so.

As such, on the day of your mother's and sisters' departure, you found yourself roaming around the house, finding yourself staring at Cillian from across the room, engrossed in a book or with his nose buried deep in his scripts.

You noticed how his eyes darted towards you occasionally, as if he could not tear himself away, but then he'd turn away, as if to shut out the thoughts that plagued his mind.

You watched as he continued to wrestle with his inner demons, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to suppress the same feelings that you were trying to ignore for the past two weeks. 

Unlike Cillian though, you eventually decided to take an initiative and bring this strange awkwardness to an end now that your mother and siblings had gone. 

"You know, if you wanted me to, I could cook something nice, and we could watch a movie again? Maybe this time, without interruptions," you suggested, hoping to ease the tension and reach out to him, breaking down that wall he had erected around himself in these last few days, for whatever reason unknown to you. 

You saw the surprised look on his face, and you wondered if you had crossed some line by proposing this. A few moments of silence passed before he finally spoke up, "Yeah, I would like that," he replied, the edges of his lips curling upwards slightly.

You couldn't help but feel a small sense of triumph at having breached that wall between you two.

"Great," you said, your voice light and cheerful. "I'll start cooking then. Do you have any preferences?"

Cillian thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No, anything you make will be great," he assured, his voice steady and confident.

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

"Alright, then, I'll surprise you," you replied as you turned on your heel and headed towards the kitchen.

"Do you want help?"  Cillian called out from the living room, but you shook your head.

"No, I've got this. You just relax," you replied, grateful for his offer but determined to make this meal a surprise for him.

As you moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and stirring sauces, you felt a sense of happiness that you hadn't experienced in a while. It had been so long since you had cooked a meal for someone else, and the thought of having dinner just with Cillian made you smile but, just as you turned on the stove, the power went out.

"Shit," you cursed as you stood there in the dark just before Cillian came walking in with his phone, using it as a light source.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he approached you, having heard you curse. 

"Power's out," you replied as you looked at him, struggling to hold back your smile.

He chuckled slightly. "I can see that," he said before asking whether you had hurt yourself. 

You shook your head. "No, it's just... I got startled and now the stove went out before I could cook dinner," you explained, your eyes darting towards the stove in disappointment before looking back at Cillian.

"It's fine. I am not hungry yet and I doubt that the power will be out for long . I'll light some candles and we can wait it out," Cillian said, as he moved around the kitchen to gather some candles and a lighter before you both returned to the living room for now.

Within a few minutes, the living room was filled with a warm, soft light, creating an intimate atmosphere between the two of you. You both sat down on the couch, slightly closer than usual as Cillian spoke up.

"Uhm, we could play a game to pass the time, if you want?" he suggested, with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

You smiled at him, appreciative of his effort to make the situation less awkward.

"Sure, that sounds fun," you replied. "What kind of games do you have?" you asked him, raising your eyebrows curiously.

"I have a few board games and card games," Cillian replied, pointing to the cabinet where he kept them. "You can take a look and choose one that you like."

You nodded and got up from the couch, making your way towards the cabinet. You scanned the games, trying to decide which one to play. Suddenly, you felt Cillian's presence behind you, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. You turned around and looked up at him, and your gaze locked for a brief moment.

There was a rush of anticipation and maybe even a hint of longing in your eyes, and Cillian felt a rush of emotion that he wasn't sure he should be feeling.

"Some of them are incomplete, I think. Sadie keeps pulling out the pieces," Cillian said with a sheepish grin before adding, "but this one should still work."

He handed you a game of monopoly and you immediately shook your head.

"I hate monopoly . It takes ages," you pouted, playfully, causing Cillian to chuckle, still kneeling right behind you.

His breath tickled your ear, and you felt a shiver run down your spine before you pulled away quickly, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

"How about this one?" you then asked as, from the back of the cabinet, you pulled out a game that you and your twin sister used to play together when you were young teens.

"Truth or dare? Really?"  Cillian asked, looking at the game in amusement. "I haven't played that since I was a kid."

"It's a fun game," you replied, grinning mischievously. "And the best thing about it is that you don't need to think of any questions or challenges. Plus, you get to score points, depending on what you choose," you explained. 

Cillian raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "Alright, let's do it," he said, holding up the box.

You both sat on the couch once again, the soft glow of the candles casting a warm light upon your faces. You picked up the deck of questions and challenges, shuffling the cards and laying them out evenly on the table between you.

"Let's begin," you said, flipping over the first card. "Truth for five points or dare for seven points?" you asked Cillian , a grin playing on your lips as you eyed him expectantly. He looked at you with half-lidded eyes, a similar grin on his face.

"Truth," he said, playing it safe, a twinkle in his eye that made your heart race. You had chosen cards randomly, so you had no idea what dares were on the other side of the deck, but the thrill of the unknown was part of the fun.

"Alright. I will read it out to you," you then said, flipping over the card that read; "What is the most embarrassing thing you have ever done in front of someone?" 

You looked at Cillian, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

Cillian laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I can't believe I am about to tell you this," he said, looking into your eyes. " But, when I first started acting  andI had just finished filming a movie, I was invited to an after-party. I was still new to the whole scene and was feeling nervous, so I had a little too much to drink and I may have hit on the director's wife pretty badly without knowing it. Needless to say, we never worked together again after that," he told you, causing you to chuckle.

"Ouch , that must have been terrible for you," you said, still chuckling.

"Yeah, just a little," he replied with a smile. "Now it's your turn. Dare for five points or truth for three?" he asked, turning the tables on you, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Uh, dare," you said without hesitation, eager to see what kind of challenges this game would present you.

"Alright then, here's your dare." Cillian smirked as he slid the card over to you.  "Go outside and sign the national anthem on the top of your lungs,"  he challenged, gauging your reaction.

You quivered at the sight of the card, wrinkling your face and letting out an embarrassed laugh. "No...no, no way," you pleaded, kicking your feet under the table.

Cillian pushed the card towards you again. "Come on, it'll be fun. Besides, you wanted to play this game, not me," he cajoled, watching you warily.

"Fine," you giggled, before motioning for him to come with you so he could watch.  At least that way, there would be a witness to corroborate you hadn't actually lost your mind. Cillian smirked playfully at your response, shaking his head slightly as he followed you to the back door.

You stepped outside into the cool night air before taking a deep breath in a nervous attempt to steady yourself. You glanced around, checking to ensure that none of your neighbors were able to hear or see you before belting out the national anthem in a loud voice filled with forced confidence.

You sang as loudly as you could without completely losing all dignity, feeling slightly awkward and self-conscious as you did so.

Cillian stayed with you the whole time, barely managing to control his laughter and, once you'd finished, he clapped loudly, teasing laughter spilling from his lips. "Well done," he quipped, bowing slightly. "I am sure you are already regretting to have chosen this game," he  playfully teased, watching you as you somehow managed to compose yourself again. You somehow found the energy to slap him on the arm playfully before marching back into the house, closing the door behind you.

"Alright, you're up," you taunted, sliding him another card. "Dare for ten or truth for eight?" you asked, trading the dares for higher stakes this time.

"Hmm… dare," Cillian hesitated, looking thoughtful before he finally agreed.

"Alright, dare it is," you confirmed before reading out the card. "Have a deep and serious conversation with an item or furniture," you  said, reading out the dare with equal parts excitement and challenge.

Cillian looked at you for a moment, then back at the card in his hands, before giving a resigned sigh. "Alright, let me see..." He stood up, walked over to the large floor lamp in the corner of the room, and looked up at it as if it were a person. "Greetings, dear lamp," he said in a serious tone, making you burst out laughing.

"Oh my god, you're ridiculous," you said, wiping tears from your eyes.

Cillian chuckled, not taking his eyes off the lamp. "Yes, I know," he said, still serious before talking to it, not flinching once. He was in the zone in an instant, just as one could expect from a professional actor . "Tell me, lamp, how has your day been?" he asked, causing even more laughter to spill from you, but he carried on, having a talk with the lamp for almost two minutes, giving you an Oscar worthy performance, full of passion and commitment.

Once his dare was complete, you both sat back down on the couch, grinning at each other. "I can't believe I just watched you talk to a lamp," you said to him, shaking your head in amazement, still amused by it all.

"You asked for it," Cillian replied, smiling.  "Now, I think it's your turn again," he told you and you looked at the cards, eager to outdo Cillian's performance. 

You chose dare again and your dare was to allow Cillian to blind fold you and feed you something weird from the fridge. 

Although slightly creeped out by the idea of being blindfolded, you didn't want to back down now, not when you were having so much fun. You agreed and Cillian quickly found a scarf in the living room drawer, tied it around your eyes and rummaged through the fridge for the strangest thing he could find.

There wasn't really much there and he decided to make it easy for you, choosing an olive, after having watched you pick them off a slice of pizza before.  "Okay, open your mouth," Cillian instructed, placing the olive delicately on your tongue and there was something quite erotic about this.

You closed your eyes behind the blindfold, focusing on the sensations; the taste, the texture and the slight pressure in your mouth as you closed your lips, with Cillian's fingers  just barely brushing them as he let go of the olive.

"Well?" Cillian's voice broke through the silence, his voice shaking a little.

You giggled behind the blindfold. "It's good!" You lied, your words muffled by the olive, hating the taste but enjoying this new, odd experience.

You then pulled down the blindfold and smiled at Cillian who still marveled at the feeling of your lips against his fingers.  "A lie, you didn't like it at all, did you?" he asked, smirking.

You shook your head. "Nope, olives are terrible. But I liked you feeding me," you almost blurted out

before catching yourself. You considered how the momentary contact between your lips and the tip of Cillian's fingers sent a wave of heat straight to your core. You looked down, your cheeks slightly flushed. Cillian wore a sly smile, his eyes shining in the dim candlelight.

"It's my turn now I think," Cillian then simply said, clearing his throat nervously and you nodded before asking him 'truth or dare'.

Cillian chose truth and you read the question to him. "What is something you would do if you knew there were no consequences?" you asked, feeling the electricity in the air between you two as you shared a moment of silence while he contemplated the question.

"I would probably do something really stupid, like acting upon some feelings that I shouldn't have for, uhm, someone...I suppose," he stammered  , staring down at his hands and avoiding your gaze. "I mean, feelings can be complicated, right? And sometimes it's better to hold back instead of causing unnecessary drama."

You nodded in agreement, trying to keep your voice neutral. "I know that feeling," you said, clearing your throat as well as you both sat in silence for a moment, knowing that there was a bigger elephant in the room, but neither of you were sure how to address it. It was Cillian who broke the silence. "I would probably kiss someone I shouldn't be kissing," you muttered, staring intently at him. A fire ignited in Cillian's eyes as he looked at you, and you could feel the tension building between you two.

After mere seconds then, Cillian leaned in closer, brushing a stray hair from your face. Your heart raced but you maintained your composure as that familiar encroaching fire took over you once more.

He leant in close, his breath hot against your skin as, almost suddenly, the lights turned back on.  The room flickered to life, casting a harsh glow upon the two of you, causing you both to pull away from each other.  Cillian cleared his throat, looking away as he muttered something under his breath. "Uh, maybe we should call it a night," he suggested, standing up from the couch, leaving the truth or dare game behind.

You nodded in agreement, still feeling a little flustered from the near-kiss. Your heart beat like a wild drum in your chest as you tried to steady yourself. You couldn't believe what had almost happened between you and Cillian. It was wrong, wasn't it? You couldn't help but think otherwise though.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[auspicioustidings]

Ok Kinktober is all queued up! Very proud I finished it all and I hope you enjoy the ending. I am going to be taking a break for obvious reasons, I've put some stuff below on the current situation.

I had never been informed of that slur before, in tags I said I thought maybe I had because the word was ringing some bells. I went back and checked, I cannot find any discussion of it as a slur and it had never appeared in any of my work. That was updated in the original ask as soon as I looked into it, it's on my blog and has been for a few days. And look I'm not happy with myself that I even thought it could be the case that I had been told about it before and forgot, that's a fair criticism.

I have never had my portrayal of black men raised to me before. The only ask/DM/comment I have ever knowingly received before now was that I would be better saying Gaz's cheeks heated rather than flushed which I took on board and changed immediately. Unsure where the idea that I had been pulled up for this before came from, maybe the tag on the answer which is fair, I shouldn't have tagged it when I hadn't double checked why the word was seeming familiar.

The fic wasn't taken down because I was asked to take it down, that was me taking it down to address a comment. During the conversation, I said I was going to rework it taking into account the issues raised and in future works switch around kinks. This wasn't contested, the conversation ended well. The person I had this discussion with is free to post screenshots of it - I genuinely think there was a misunderstanding here. The fic was reuploaded with said issues removed. It was later taken down again when everything started, I can only edit to what has been raised with me as the original commentor blocked me so I couldn't seek clarification, so I took out the piss kink and non-con from all chapters involving Mace.

I believe there is some suggestion that I am sending anon asks which is not the case. If I have been blocked and cannot DM someone, I take the hint and don't try contact them. I have made it very apparent and will do so again that nobody should harass people over this, especially not as a way to try and discourage POC from highlighting racial bias.

My issue with all of this is the supposed white allies. White allyship isn't just reblogging posts, it is getting in my DMs and having a discussion with me rather than the onus being on POC to do so. I take no issue with POC not wanting to entertain discussion with me, that is their right as minorities existing in a space that is often actively hostile to them. I take issue with white people being performative instead of doing the actual work. To date not one person has DM'd or messaged, even on anon, to have a conversation with me about where I went wrong and how I can improve in the future.

It's part of your job as a white ally to educate other white people. I have had to do it, I know it's uncomfortable, tough shit. That's what allyship is.

Once again, I do not need nor do I want defending. Get out of POCs asks and into mine if you want to rant.

[mint-yooxgi]

{13} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Jongho)

Words: 5,900

Warnings: Past trauma discussed: torture and imprisonment, scars, death, violence, a lot of angst but with a happy ending. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Wow, it's really been a whole ass month since I've updated this series. Lmaooo whoops! Anyways, I really hope you all enjoy this chapter, I've got a lot more planned coming up as the following parts will really focus on the development of OC's relationships with all of the guys. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Mini Masterlist

It’s early that same evening when eight dragons sense a somewhat familiar presence getting closer to their own nest. Focussing in, they soon realize that there are actually two.

Stepping out of their home, all of the Halas (minus Jongho who currently sits on the roof), stare up at the two Neos who descend into their yard. Both dragons are blue in colour, though one is quite a lighter shade than the other. The darker of the two is slightly bigger, but the smaller radiates more of an air of intimidation. A moment later, they discover why.

Landing gracefully on the grass, both Jeno and Renjun appear before the eight Halas.

“Sorry to intrude like this,” Renjun begins, dusting off the front of his pants lightly.

“How did you find us?” It’s Yeosang that asks, brow furrowing slightly as he stares at the Neos.

“Is everything okay?” Immediately, Jongho hops down from the roof, worry clear in his eyes.

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” Jeno smiles at him faintly, and he watches as the youngest Hala’s shoulders relax. “You would have heard us roar if something had happened.”

“To answer your question,” Renjun shifts his gaze to Yeosang, “It was easy to find you. You guys don’t really hide your scents as well as you think.”

Hongjoong, San, and Mingi all purse their lips slightly at this, a minor furrow to their brows.

“Why are you here?” It’s Seonghwa who says it, but his tone isn’t as sharp as the Neos are used to. Instead, it holds a genuine curiosity as the eldest Hala crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, I was sent here to collect a certain dragon.” Renjun says, before motioning to Jeno with a jerk of his head. “Her cub just wanted to ‘tag along’.”

At this, more than a few eyebrows raise.

“I came to make sure you don’t butcher her offer.” Jeno huffs, a roll to his eyes. “You make it sound like you’re here to bring back one of their heads on a spike.”

“Offer?” This catches Wooyoung’s attention, his entire demeanour perking up instantly.

“Who?” San doesn’t even attempt to hide the eagerness in his voice.

Both Renjun and Jeno spare a glance at one another out of the corner of their eyes before their gazes are shifting onto the youngest Hala standing across from them.

“Him.” Renjun jerks his chin in Jongho’s direction.

The younger male cannot help but stand a little straighter in his spot, heart racing in his chest. You sent for him?

“What about?” Yunho does his best to ask the question casually, but his feigned disinterest only serves to make the slight desperation in his voice all the clearer.

“That’s between him and her.” Renjun replies, a mild shrug to his shoulders as he turns back around. “She’ll be waiting.”

“Wait!” It’s the youngest’s voice that has Renjun halting right in his tracks for the moment. As soon as Jongho sees the Neo spare a glance over his shoulder, he’s continuing, “where can I find her?”

The corner of Renjun’s lips quirks upward before turning back around and taking off into the evening sky.

Jeno lets out a sigh, shaking his head. He meets Jongho’s gaze. “Let the lights guide you home.”

In the blink of an eye, Jeno has shifted and taken off into the air, following closely behind Renjun without another word.

All Halas turn to look at their youngest.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Mingi frowns, arms crossing over his chest.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jongho breathes, blinking after the two retreating dragons as he attempts to wrap his head around this turn of events.

You want to see him? He can still hardly believe it.

Before any more of his brothers can say another word, Jongho is taking off into the evening sky. The faintest hues of pink and orange begin to dust the clouds as the sun begins to set, warming the earth with its final rays. The way his golden scales glint in the fading light is synonymous with the way that his tail eagerly flicks back and forth through the air, cutting through the sky with a newfound purpose as he flies towards you.

It takes Jongho all of three minutes to reach that little special clearing on the edge of the cliff. He sees you just through the thicket of the trees, that small tower of stones resting beside you as you sit on the ground. The way he can feel your eyes on him, tracking his every movement has a pleasant shiver caressing his spine.

He circles lower.

If he’s being honest with himself, Jongho is a little cautious of flying directly into that clearing. You told him the last time he found you here that you only allow people that you have granted permission access to step foot on such a sacred part of your territory. He’d really rather not run smack into that invisible wall again.

Then, as if you’ve read his every thought, you chuckle.

“You may land, you know.” You smile softly as you stand to your feet. “I would not send for you to join me here if I haven’t already granted you permission to set foot inside this circle.”

Jongho’s breath catches in his throat, and he bets more than anything that you’ve heard his reaction loud and clear. So badly does he want to let out a rumble of content, but he feels as if it might be too much for the moment. He simply does not want to read into this more than is necessary. Yet, with everything that you’ve told him so far, he cannot help but do just that.

You called for him. You wanted to see him. 

That alone gives him more hope than you could ever imagine.

Gliding towards that small opening on the side of the cliff, Jongho can still feel your eyes on him. The sensation of having your gaze roam over his true form is unlike any other, and for the first time, he senses that you are taking your time to memorize every detail. He simply hopes that you are as mesmerized by him as he is always mesmerized by you.

With his heart soaring in his chest, Jongho stretches his wings as far as they will go while he comes in for his landing. He purposely puts himself on display, fanning his crown as his tail flicks behind him. The way the light of the setting sun catches on his scales, illuminating the clearing with little iridescent reflections of golden hues has him preening proudly as he shakes out his muzzle.

The feeling of your eyes on him is like no other. That soft smile is still on your features as you stand with your arms gently supporting one another by the elbows. Your cloak rests open over your shoulders and as soon as he shifts back into his human form, you begin to take a few steps towards him. Only, Jongho cannot shake that brief look of longing that crossed your features for a moment.

Why did you just look so sad?

Closing the distance between your two bodies, you come to stand directly before him. Slowly, you take his hands in your own, staring deeply into his eyes.

He swallows thickly, doing whatever he can to keep his body from physically trembling while being held in your touch. “You wanted to see me?”

“I did.” You confirm, a slight nod to your head. “I’m glad you came.”

Jongho nearly hums at your words. “I will always come when you call for me.”

You motion for him to join you near the edge of the cliff, sitting down so that your legs are dangling off of the side. “I desired to speak with you.”

The pleased rumble that escapes him could not have been smothered, even if he tried. “About?”

“I have come to a few realizations over the past day, and there are some things I would like to share with you now.” You say, staring out over the valley as you continue to watch the sun set before you. “If this is to continue between us, then you have a right to know. I want you to know.”

Jongho wishes he could deny the way his breath catches once more in his throat. Slowly, he sits beside you on the edge of the cliff, feeling as if his heart is about to beat right out of his chest.

“I am not promising you anything, Jongho.” You turn to look directly into his eyes as you say this. “I cannot. That does not mean that I am not beginning to trust you. If you are as serious about me, about us as you say you are, then I need you to listen to what I am about to tell you. I need you to understand.”

His expression softens, and he has to prevent himself from reaching out and grabbing your hand in his own. Still, he turns towards you, giving you his full and undivided attention.

“I understand.” His voice is low, eyes flitting over your every feature and committing this moment to memory for years to come. The way the sunlight dances across every inch of your figure makes you glow, a warmth flooding his veins the longer he stares at you.

“You continue to prove yourself to me every day that I know you,” you continue, a slight tremble to your voice. “I think it’s only fair you finally get to know some things about me in return.”

“Please, only tell me if you’re comfortable telling me.” He says, a hint of concern in his gaze. “If you’re not ready, don’t force yourself. I can wait.”

“See,” you smile reassuringly, but he’s unsure if it’s more for yourself or for him at the moment, “You just did it again.”

“Did what?” He blinks at you.

“Proved you’re ready to hear what I am about to say.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards, and Jongho notices a few fireflies beginning to float around the area, dancing lightly around your head.

A brief silence settles over the both of you as he waits for you to speak. That is, until you’re letting out a low sigh.

“These are not easy subjects for me to discuss with anyone. Only my closest friends know these specific details about me, so I apologize in advance if it takes me longer to voice certain thoughts over others right now.” You say, shifting your gaze out toward the setting sun. “The chat I had with your brother last night made me realize that it wouldn’t be so bad if you knew some things, too.”

“Take all the time you need,” he gently assures you, his fingers twitching lightly as he rests his palm in the grass between the two of you. “I’m right here.”

He notices you swallow thickly, your hands resting in your lap clinging onto one another as your fingers nervously wring together. This is the most anxious he’s ever seen you, and his heart aches not knowing what he can do to make it better. The urge to pull you into his arms and whisper sweet nothings into your ears is strong, but he holds himself back for now.

Taking a deep breath, your mouth parts, only to close a moment later. Then, you exhale through your nose, shutting your eyes briefly as you steel your nerves.

“I will start with the easier admissions first,” you begin, “But everything I admit to you this evening does not leave this clearing.”

“I would never betray your trust like that.” Jongho replies instantly, nothing but the deepest sincerity shining within his gaze.

A firm nod from you is all the confirmation he needs that you believe him.

Again, you sigh.

“I understand that you and your brothers perceive myself along the likes of the ancients.” You breathe. “You would be correct.”

Jongho blinks in shock.

“Though I am no ancient, I was raised by one.” You tell him. “My father is one of the oldest of the original dragons still alive to this day. Other than my Uncle Ken, of course. He has power unlike anything you could believe, and it has been ingrained in me to be as strong as he is ever since I was small.”

“My mother was a powerful witch.” A slight purse to your lips. “I never met her, for she died during childbirth. My father loved her deeply, and was devastated when he lost her. Every time he looked at me, all he could see was her face, and how he failed her.”

Jongho swallows thickly, already not liking where this seems to be going.

“My Uncle Ken raised me for the first ten years of my life. I thought he was my actual father for a time, for he always treated me better than my biological one.” You huff out a dry laugh. “My father couldn’t bear the grief that came with seeing me, so he gave me away to his best friend. It wasn’t until he learnt I could summon the same powers as my mother that he finally made his presence known in my life.”

The growl Jongho has to suppress nearly chokes him, a deep hatred already blooming in his chest for your father. How could anyone not want you, let alone your own flesh and blood? 

“I thought he wanted nothing to do with me after I found out,” you scoff lightly. “Imagine a twelve year old finally being told the truth.”

He has to keep himself from shaking, but still, he remains quiet.

“My training started after that.” You lean back onto your hands, looking upwards into the darkening sky as those fireflies float lethargically around your head. “I was sent to survive on my own in the wilderness. I nearly died eleven times in the first week, were it not for my Uncle Ken.”

Jongho’s jaw clenches, biting his tongue before he says something he might come to regret.

“I was young, and I didn’t know anything about survival. Hell, I didn’t even know I was a dragon at this point yet. My Uncle wanted me to live as normally as possible for as long as I could before subjecting me to certain types of magic.” You swallow. “I learned everything there was about this earth before I was fifteen, and I knew how to wield every type of weapon by the time I was twenty.”

“You were a child.” He seethes, eyes swirling with a deep golden hue.

“I was a prodigy.” You finally turn to meet Jongho’s gaze. “After all, my father had a reputation to uphold.”

“That’s despicable,” Jongho’s frown is prominent, smoke escaping him with every exhale.

“The past is passed, Young One. I’m not going to change it now.” You sigh.

“That doesn’t mean what you went through is okay.” His chest heaves with every breath. “It doesn’t make it okay.”

“I know it doesn’t.” You nod in agreement. “Remember, I am telling you this so you can understand.”

Again, Jongho bites his tongue.

“My father was adamant on me learning physical defence before ever properly training my magic. He believed that my powers should only be used as a last resort since they could destroy anyone in the blink of an eye.” You go on to say. “I realize now he only trained me the way he did because he was always scared of what I could become.”

“Scared?” Jongho’s brow furrows.

“You see, Jongho,” you chuckle, “because of the anomaly my entire existence centres around, I am potentially even more powerful than my father.”

You swear he stops breathing.

Taking a deep breath, you sit back upright.

“Do you recall what I told you the last time we were both in this clearing?” You ask, not even bothering to spare him a glance out of the corner of your eyes. “About My Cubs?”

A brief memory flashes within his mind as he nods.

“I told you that my father ensured I could never have ones of my own.” You continue. “Do you know why that is?”

He shakes his head.

“Other than the fact that my own children could potentially be more powerful than me, my father has never gotten over my mother’s death. He has blamed me for it every moment of my existence.” You tell him. “However, that did not stop him from developing a twisted sense of love towards me. He took away my ability to have hatchlings of my own to ensure I never incurred the same fate as my mother. I am the last living attachment he has of her, so he will do whatever he can to ensure my safety now. It’s why my training only got harder after what happened with Daisy.”

A moment’s pause before Jongho asks, voice soft and barely above a whisper, “what happened with Daisy?”

The way you instantly curl in on yourself does not go unnoticed by him. Your hands grip at the sides of your cloak, pulling it tighter around your body as you look down for the moment.

“Are you familiar with the S’ber Hunters?” Your voice is much quieter than it was before, blinking blankly at the valley before you.

“The ones that are always hunting for the ancients?” He frowns, attempting to wrap his head around what they have to do with anything. “I’ve heard that they haven’t been seen on this side of the fjord for almost fifty years.”

“There’s a reason for that.” You shift your gaze to him, and he notices tears beginning to gather in the corners.

“What did they do?” His heart pounds, already fearing the worst.

Your lips purse for a good thirty seconds, chin beginning to wobble as you attempt to control your emotions. Only, the second you go to speak a choked sob tears from your throat.

“They took her.” Your voice is no more than a mere whisper, words strained as you take an unsteady breath in. “They killed My Daisy right in front of me.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as you cover your mouth with one of your hands. A vicious sob wracks your entire body, and Jongho instantly goes to place a comforting hand onto your back. Only, before he can so much as graze your skin, he stops himself. 

Slowly, he shifts closer, reaching over to grab your free hand in his. 

Any and every comfort he can, he will offer to you. Even through something as small as this, he wants you to know that he is here for you. You are not alone, and he will be with you every step of the way.

“They killed her for loving me.” Your voice is rough as you sniffle, wiping away your tears for the moment. 

Yet, you do not pull your one hand away from his own.

“I had just-“ your breath hitches in your throat, more fireflies coming to float around the two of you as if to offer their silent support. A deep, shaky breath later, you continue, “I am sure you are aware of our marking rituals between imprinted.”

Jongho’s back straightens. “I am.”

“Her mark - my mark - was on full display when she went traversing through the village that day.” You close your eyes, as if the visions are coming back to haunt your memories once again. “They followed her home and ambushed us. I begged her to deny their accusations of loving me. They would have let her go free if she did.” Your eyes blink open, more tears spilling onto your cheeks as you force a strained smile onto your lips. “She didn’t.”

His expression falls, hand squeezing yours tightly as his heart absolutely aches for you.

“My Daisy fought up until the very end. She was so brave, yet I couldn’t save her,” a broken sob tears from your throat as your whole body begins to shake. “I was still so young, and so weak.”

“No-“

“I was.” You cut him off. “I had been neglecting my training, and I couldn’t sense them creeping in around us. They caught me with iron before I could react, and all I could do was watch as the love of my life bled out before me.”

Again, Jongho shifts closer, placing his one hand overtop of your own still held in his other.

“S’ber Hunters are ruthless. They kill anyone who associates with dragons, but they never kill the dragon.” You shake your head slightly. “No. They do something much worse.”

Sliding your hand from his grip, you meticulously roll up your sleeves. Extending your arms to him, you put your scars on full display. The light from the fireflies illuminate the faint lines raised in jagged peaks along your skin, the weight of those iron shackles still ever prominent despite them having long since been broken off.

Jongho’s eyes go wide, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he takes in the sight before him. Furious doesn’t even begin to describe him right now as he sees the scars lining your skin. Though, nothing could prepare him for the anger and guilt that he feels towards himself. How has he never noticed before?

Carefully, Jongho raises his hands to cup your forearms gently in his grip. His thumbs trace lightly over the raised tissue over your wrists, entire body trembling as he attempts to put a leash on his anger for the moment.

“I’ll kill them for touching you.” His voice is low, eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen from him.

You smile, somewhat tensely. “You’re a few hundred years too later.”

His gaze darts up to meet your own, his fingers tightening the slightest bit as he continues to hold your arms gently in his grip.

A moment of silence passes between you as he attempts to keep his whole body from trembling.

“How long?” Jongho cannot keep the fear out of his voice.

You manage to meet his gaze.

“Five hundred and two days.”

The way his eyes shine says it all. You can see the pain, the grief he holds for you. Yet, also the anger, and the concern, along with the growing need to comfort and protect you in every and any way that he can.

“It doesn’t matter what type of dragon you are. To them, we’re all the same.” Your voice is low, and you don’t realize how he grabs your hands back into his own. “To them, we all have connections to the ancients, and we all know where their nests are.”

There’s a part of him that wants to ask, but he’s scared. The thought of you telling him just what type of tortures you had to endure terrifies him because he wasn’t there to protect you. Knowing that you have suffered, and that he could do nothing about it, pains him more than you’ll ever know.

“The S’ber are smart.” You add. “Tell me, Jongho. How do you kill a dragon without taking away their life?”

He shakes his head, a single tear already beginning to trail down the side of his cheek.

“You go for their wings.”

The mere thought of what you had to endure suffocates his very soul. He clings onto you for dear life, squeezing your hands as an unbridled rage festers beneath his skin. This must be why you react so intensely whenever someone touches your back.

“Everyday they asked me where the nest was, and everyday I received a lash for not answering.” Your jaw begins to tremble. “They were smart, too. Keeping me locked up in the dark so I couldn’t tell what day it was, or how much time had passed. The only way I knew was through the lashings. Everyday they would add one to the tally, until they reached one hundred. Then, they would start all over. The scars littering my back still have never fully healed, and it took me years to be able to shift again. I honestly don’t even know what the state of my wings look like now. Not after-”

You cut your words short, lips clamping shut as if admitting to whatever you were about to is far worse than anything you’ve already said. He doesn’t push.

Instead, Jongho’s entire body trembles, golden eyes staring at you with nothing but concern on his features. Right now, comforting you is more important than any rage he feels festering within his soul. No wonder you keep yourself so guarded.

If he ever so much as catches a single whiff of one of these hunters, they’re dead.

“That wasn’t even the worst part, though.” Your eyes are blank as you stare at your hands. The way you can feel him looking at you has a tight smile pulling at your lips. “No, the worst part wasn’t the beatings. It wasn’t being in the dark, or not allowing myself to grieve for Daisy during all of that time. The worst part was knowing that I was alone. My father didn’t once come looking for me when I got captured. He immediately thought I was dead, and would have rather succumbed to his own grief than spare a hope I had survived somehow. It was My Neos who rescued me, but even they had some help.”

“Your own father didn’t even bother to look for you?” Jongho is this close to hunting this bastard down and frying him alive, ancient or not.

“No.” You shake your head. “It was my Uncle Ken that helped the Neos, and destroyed the S’ber hideout. There’s not but ash left. Ash and memory.”

Jongho’s eyes flash, his whole body stilling as realization washes over him. A second later, and each breath he begins to release boarders on a feral snarl.

“My brothers,” his eyes are wide, a crazed gleam shining within, “they compared you to the likes of them. They ruthlessly compared you to the people who hurt you the most without a second thought.”

His fangs elongate, the air spiking with electricity. 

Jongho sees red.

“They didn’t know.” You reply, much calmer than anything he could ever expect. As if you’re used to this type of reaction from people.

“That’s still no fucking excuse for comparing you to those beasts.” He snarls, pulling away from you for a moment as his claws extend.

The last thing he wants is to hurt you, or to scare you away. You’ve already extended more trust to him this evening than he could have ever hoped for. Like hell is he going to damage that, or make you regret telling him all of this.

“You understand why My Neos and I react the way we do now?” You state, meeting his gaze which flashes with the heat of his fury. “Why that promise I made to My Daisy is so important to me? Why I do not allow true hunters into my village anymore?”

Jongho blinks, digging his claws into the dry earth beneath him to ground him for the moment. “I do.”

“Good.” You nod once, wiping at your lingering tears with the back of your hand. “Then, I have one final thing to tell you.”

You go on to tell him the exact same thing about the prophecy as you told Seonghwa last night. The way Jongho remains quiet through it all has you watching him carefully. Every minuscule movement of his brow, every twitch of his jaw, you see, gaze calculating and calm.

“I despise your father.” He spits, rather harshly as a scowl tugs at his features.

This causes you to chuckle. “You, me, and all of My Neos. I’m pretty sure my Uncle Ken has started resenting him a long time ago, too.”

“If I ever meet him, I’m going to kill him for what he put you through.” Jongho turns to meet your eyes, nothing but the deepest form of sincerity shining within his electric gaze.

“I haven’t seen my father in over twenty years, and I’d like to keep it that way.” You say, and you feel the faintest of touches brush over your cheek in comfort. For a moment, you believe it to be Daisy, so you think nothing of it to lean into such a touch. However, at the warmth you feel remaining pressed against your cheek, a thumb tenderly stroking over your skin, you realize that that is not the case.

“I am deeply sorry, My Light, that you have experienced such hardships, and that I have not been there to protect you from them.” His voice is low, cupping your face gently in the palm of his hand. “I swear to you that I will never let anything hurt you again. Not as long as I am here to watch over you. I will never go back on my promise. You mean too much to me.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jongho.” You gently place your hand over his own on your cheek, and he thinks you’re about to pull it away. However, the moment your eyes flutter shut, you leaning even more into his touch, he knows that that’s not the case. “I cannot tell you what happened to me fifty years ago yet, for the wounds are still all too fresh in my heart. I cannot promise you that this will be easy, either.”

A lone firefly lands atop the back of your hand, the subtle glow illuminating the side of your face in the dark of the night.

“I have denied most, if not all dragons who have imprinted on me in that time because I could not bring myself to love again.” You admit, a single tear cascading down your cheek. He’s quick to wipe it away, holding his breath as he waits for you to continue. “However,” that single word has his heart stuttering with hope in his chest, “I am willing to try again.”

Jongho swears that he stops breathing. Your words have filled him with such an unbelievable sense of warmth that radiates outwards from his chest, flooding his veins with every breath he takes, that he cannot help but shed a few tears of his own. Nothing but pure and utter happiness sparks through his soul, his hands beginning to shake as he holds you in his embrace.

He doesn’t even realize that his tail has emerged until he physically draws you in closer to his body. The way your eyes widen the slightest bit, a faint amount of amusement dancing behind your orbs says it all.

He goes to retract his tail, cheeks warming beneath your gaze. “Sorry.”

You smile at him faintly, allowing your thumb to lightly trace over the back of his hand still cupping your cheek gently. “I don’t mind.”

Jongho freezes, your words washing over him. He can feel his heart leaping for joy inside his chest, his eyes searching your face for any hesitancy or uncertainty. When he finds none, he smiles.

His tail, which he had slowly been shifting away from your lower back is instantly around you once more. He pulls you closer to him, your one leg pressed right up against his own as the tip of his tail swishes happily over the skin of your one thigh. There is nothing more intimate to him than this moment, right here, right now, with you, and Jongho is going to revel in this euphoric feeling for as long as he can.

Again, he searches your gaze.

“Thank you,” he breathes, shifting impossibly closer, even if only the slightest bit. “For everything tonight. For trusting me with this. For giving me a chance to prove myself to you. For letting me love you, and continuing to let me love you despite it all.”

You opt to remain quiet for the moment, blinking at him lightly as you observe his every move. You don’t want to acknowledge how quickly your own heart is racing for the moment, but with each passing second, you find yourself melting even more into his touch.

Just what is this dragon doing to you?

“I won’t let you down.” He leans forward, resting his forehead against your own as a pleased rumble escapes his chest.

Jongho doesn’t even attempt to hide the way his hooded eyes continuously flick down to your lips. His tongue even darts out to wet his own, nuzzling the slightest bit against you as he draws you in closer with his tail.

“You are so beautiful,” his voice is a mere whisper, the ghost of his breath trailing against your lips with every word he speaks. A pleased rumble builds in his chest, “And strong.”

It’s almost as if he’s gone into a trance. A trance of which where all he can see is you.

“My Light,” he hums contently, “I do not wish to overstep,” he swallows, his throat bobbing with the movement, “but, please,” his eyes flick down to your lips once more before coming up to stare deeply into your eyes, “please, may I kiss you?”

Your own breath catches in your throat, and you cannot deny the way your heart skips a beat in your chest. It’s been so long since someone has asked you this, and you find that it feels just like the very first time with Daisy.

Softly, you smile. “You may.”

His lips are on yours without another moment of hesitation.

With everything that he is, Jongho pours his entire heart and soul into this kiss. He cups your cheeks gently with both of his hands, tail wrapped securely around your lower waist as he presses you against him. The way he can feel your own hands find purchase on his body has a pleased rumble building within his chest, tingles erupting beneath his skin wherever you touch.

All too soon, he pulls himself away, not wanting to overstep or make you uncomfortable. His eyes remain shut as he leans into you, pressing his forehead gently against your own once more.

“I love you, My Light.” Jongho breathes, golden eyes blinking open to stare deeply into your own.

The subtle pull of your lips upwards is nothing short of sweet, and the way he can hear your own heart racing inside of your chest has a warmth unlike any other spreading throughout his body. 

Jongho is used to the feeling of electricity flowing beneath his skin, but nothing could have prepared him for what your touch, your kiss does to him. Now, he only craves more, but even he knows not to push you any further tonight than you’re willing to go.

“Thank you for waiting,” your own voice is soft, tone gentle as you shift slightly so that your body is leaning against his.

“Always.” He hums, grasping your hand in his once more and intertwining your fingers together.

A small silence settles over the both of you now, comfortable and warm. Fireflies begin to dance around the clearing and over your heads, twinkling like the stars above. Both of you are more than content to bask in the other’s presence for the moment. 

The way you softly rest your head against his shoulder as you lean into him says it all.

[silly-lil-scribbles]

Introduction post!!

JAILED

status: OH FUCK NEEDA GO GET STUFF DONE SHIT

lyrics that fit the current vibe: anything you say can and will be held against you, so only say my name and i will be held against you

current chance of a response if you dm me*: 2%

* does not apply to mousie cuz its my emotional support friend

- My name is Finn! You can also call me scribbles, soup, or really any dumb nickname will do. it/he <3

woah look at that.. its me.. on another website!! slight flash warning for spacehey btw ^^

if you havent read this in a while, i would suggest reading again cuz i update it a lot <3

- faggy but in the most aroace way possible

- as far as gender, boy-ish

- I MADE A JAIL ACCOUNT SO IF IM JAILED I MIGHT BE OVER THERE ‼️ @soup-has-been-imprisoned-noooooo

- I POST ABOUT BUGS A LOT! if you dont wanna see that …. sorry? i always tag if op didnt but just proceed with caution yk

- I post about the magnus archives/protocol and my chem frequently, though I also just reblog a ton of random shit. may be nsfw. Also I forget to tag for spoilers a lot so just know that there are magpod spoilers in general on my blog.

- Music artists I like: mcr, lemon demon, will wood, dazey and the scouts, cavetown, fob, mother mother, nova twins, that handsome devil, noahfinnce, qbomb, gum disease, sparkbird, mischief brew, poppy, be your own pet, pierce the veil, specimen, faetooth, the mechs, rabbitology, scene queen, she/her/hers, femtanyl, leathermouth, baby queen, pansy division, the spook school, the crane wives, of monsters and men, and slutever

overall i just really enjoy a lot of punk and emo and dark cabaret

- Shows/Podcasts/Other Media that I like! DANGER DAYSS, Malevolent, The Magnus Archives, Stranger Things, Welcome to Nightvale (though I haven’t finished it yet), the Osemanverse, Nimona, Adventure Time, Gravity Falls, ATLA, LOK, It, Hilda, Camp Here and There, Radio Rental, warrior cats, the silt verses, dead end: paranormal park, the saw franchise,,,, big fan of horror movies in general so id love suggestions, also there’s probably more but my memory is shit

- my blog is super messy so all of my art is under the tag #scribbles draws a thing and my original text posts (not the short personal ones typically, just the one i actually want people to see) are under #scribbles says shit.

- my body hates me very much (in other words im physically disabled)

- surprise, my brain also hates me very much! And yes also undiagnosed!

- tone tags are appreciated <3

- i post a lot! if you left an anon ask please check my #scribbles asks tag if you cant find it, sorry ‘bout that

boundaries n stuff:

- not ok with sexual or romantic comments

- platonic flirting is ok if we’re moots

- feelings on sex fluctuate a lot but im usually pretty indifferent, same for romance but usually averse

continued:

- i have a tmagp fic i just starting writing! If you wanna know more, posts related to that are under #electric desires have unraveled all my wires :(

- I have 4 cats and a dog, also a gecko

- i have a queerplatonic partner!! hes awesome and swaggy and writes so much. so. much writing. wow. not saying wow in a bad way im just genuinely impressed. chou if ur reading this i love you <3

- SURPRISE i have another queerplatonic partner too!!!! its super fun and cool and pathetic /vpos. my favorite excitable soggy cardboard box ilysm <3 (if ur a regular around here im sure ur familiar lol)

- i love them both so much holy shit guys aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

- coyotekin therian !!

- i love bugs!!!!!!!!!!! please show me bugs!!!!!!!!!!!!

- My favorite colors are hot pink, cyan, neon green, and red

- I love interacting with mutuals and getting asks! plspls send me random shit in asks im begging

- I’m creating a cartoon called Catlantis (still in progress)

- I have a love hate relationship with writing but i do it anyways so oh well

- Frogs.

other tags i use a lot are:

#soup poorly draws gay people out of obligation; my series of promised dyhard drawings.

#soup gets pathetic about friendship; me when im a sappy bitch about my friends or partners

#objectives list; save file for when i say im gonna do something so i dont forget about it

#catlantis save; hoarding info for catlantis

#insomnia induced rambles; i cant sleep and im making it your problem

#our lady of sorrows; not the song, my mcr inspired goddess i made up for my dnd character to worship

#scribbles asks; asks

#info save; good to know

#scribbles liveblogging tmagp; exactly what it sounds like

#art save; resources for doing art

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[livingslime]

Just finished playing the game and DAMN do I like it :3 (this is gonna be a long message hope that's okay, and discussing spoilers if that matters lol)

First, I, as a queer he/they, always appreciate a gender-neutral MC, so thank you. Also, love the design of the Doc, he's really cute, and I like how his eyes are both super big and adorable, but also really creepy when need be, good art

Second, during the first night, those eyes appearing in the door?Genuinely really scary. Like, I was expecting some level of creepiness from a game like this, but that was just terrifying. Anyway, my theory is that those eyes were the Anselm because this guy would probably freak tf out at the idea of someone else watching the MC. Bro would be possessive af (at least I sure hope he is)

Third, the endings. I liked them, yes I would love an ending with a seemingly happy life with Anselm, even if it technically isn't a good ending. I just have a soft spot for doctors. For the bad one, I don't know how dark you are going to go with the story, but my theory is that he did something to the MC's body, like their legs or something, to make them weaker so they can't escape, which is why he was so aggressive about the MC not being able to go on a walk. I mean... my body is pretty weak, but unless the MC is made of paper, they wouldn't just start bleeding out from standing up unless something was up? I'm onto you...

ANYWAYS! Excellent start! However, my one issue is the "illusion of choice" if that makes sense? Like, the little options the player is given over dialogue options don't have that much impact in the end? The only one that seemed to make a difference was choosing to accept or reject the medication. I think it would make the game a lot more dynamic and make the player feel like they have more impact in the story if the dialogue options had more branching paths. Like, if in the final product, depending on how you talk to Anselm, it affects how he treats the player or how far he is willing to try and go to keep you? I just feel like currently, the player lacks a bit of agency, but that's my only "complaint", and something that could definitely be explored in the final version! Hopefully, I'm not coming across as too mean.

I hope this game gets its final version, as I need more content with the doctor immediately! I love him!

-🐈‍⬛ (idk if you do anon tags and if you do hopefully this one isn't taken lol)

Hi hi! (°◡°♡) I'm overjoyed to hear that you enjoyed my demo! ♡

Note - I will try to be as spoiler free of the story so I cannot deny or confirm any theories ><

Hehe I'm really relieved I was able you freak you out! And yes, Anselm is certainly very possessive about you. Canonly, the MC is he first ever love, I would like to expand on this in the later chapters of the visual novel's full release!

For the neutral ending of the demo, its a continuation of the storyline! So in terms of story, there is still more to come. And of course, there will be endings for the MC and Anselm where they will be "together" (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

That's a very interesting theory! But I guess we'll just have to wait and see~ muahaha!

Yes! I actually do completely agree with you on that. This is something I wanted to touch on my next devlog.

I do plan on adding more content for day1-day3 of the demo, branching dialog, probably 2 more bad endings, CGs , Etc , before I start writing the later chapters, I do have a general idea for the story but I still need to finalize everything. I plan to have this update maybe beginning 2025 hopefully!

No no don't worry you are not coming across as mean at all I promise you ♡(◕ᗜ◕✿).

Personal note - I actually created Anselm when I was in a bad space. So every time I read how much love he gets, sometimes I feel like I might tear up... like I'm so touched (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ ♡♡

I do hope I can bring the passion project fully to life! and thank you for loving him ♡

[surr3al1sm]

I just wanted to come on here and make a little celebration post because Maybe Loving You is Dangerous has officially hit 100 kudo's! That number is like genuinely insane to me because I was expecting it to get like 30, max. I cannot believe it oh my god. I'm so grateful for everyone that has read my fic so far, that has left a kudo's, that has left a comment. It all really means the world to me, thank you so much. I truly wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you guys. I'm so happy you enjoyed the story so far, and I'm so excited for what's coming next because I get to have some fun. I hope you guys will like it! Now, surpisingly or not, I am very bad at talking about myself and my accomplishments. And since it's my celebration post I get to do what I want. Today that is being nice to some other writers. So I decided to leave a little note to the authors that inspired me to write and actually publish this fic under the cut. (So if you got tagged, that might be why). Feel free to read these notes if you want to, it's truly just me being an insufferable fanboy. If you did not get tagged, but we are mutuals (or friends) just know that you might have also had a role in the inspiration and motivation departments of this fic.

A note to @halfratsalready: I'm sure this comes as a surpise to no one, and I warned you I was going to tag you in something. But yeah, being very real and sappy with you: you're like one of my biggest inspirations for this. I was, and still am, absolutely enamored by the Lose Yourself series. I honestly feel confident enough to say that its my favourite Just Dance fic, ever. It's genuinely so well written and you executed everything so perfectly. I loved inserting it into my weekly schedule and I felt so inspired to write afterwards. I'm going to be a little sneaky and say that the whole reason I started even thinking about possibly writing a pre-canon fic. So truly, MLYiD owes Lose Yourself it's life. I joke around sometimes and call you my target audience, but honestly? You are. Everything I write is with your enjoyment in mind. I really do catch myself thinking "I hope Oboe likes this" while writing lol. I will forever be your nbr 1 fanboy, and I am so glad that we're friends. I wouldn't have it any other way.

A note to @libra-cant-just-dance: Hello there! You're the only one in here I haven't talked to, but I still wanted to tag you and tell you how much I love your fic. The Tainted City was such a great fic. I loved the plot and your story telling and the way you describe things is just so amazing. I really look up to it. The Tainted City was a bigger inspiration for my other fic than for this one, but honestly without it I doubt I would have ever started posting fics. So really, I owe you one at this point. Your fics are amazing and I cannot wait to see what you end up doing with Mirrored Walls!

A note to @lightning-and-sparks: Thorns was the first Just Dance fanfic I have ever read, and it will always be one of my favourites. I genuinely enjoy the story and you're such a good author as well. I'm so glad it's back and that I get to read weekly updated for it again. As you know, it is a very big inspiration for MLYiD and I might have accidentally stolen a few things from it but that was all in good faith and because it was all so good that I just had to. Keep it up, I need infinite Throns content (please.)

[bratbby333]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ blog update ! ] ࿐ྂ

+ some housekeeping and info on new writing

hello my loves !! i wanted to give y'all some insight on what's been going on in my mind palace lately. there's a lot...so...cmon, take a walk w me...and maybe bring some snacks.

ੈ♡˳ first and foremost ! my work has received a lot more attention recently and i am so excited. with actual tears in my eyes, im happy to report that i surpassed 1,000 followers the other day. i am at a loss for words...just...stuck in a perma-state of disbelief.

im sending out the biggest thank you to everyone who has supported me, who's interacted with my work, to the lovely friends ive made though this account and to the heartbreakingly beautiful anime that brought me here in the first place. i am genuinely in awe...overwhelmed, even...i didn't expect any of this to happen when i started this blog and i am forever indebted to all of you for getting me here. im actively fighting off the inevitable surge of imposter syndrome as i type this out...i just love y'all so fucking much. this community means the world to me and i wanna scream at the top of my lungs in order to demonstrate my deepest appreciation for each and every one of y'all.

ੈ♡˳ secondly ! a message for my little angel babies, my day one followers; thank you for taking a chance on me. for watching me grow. for sticking around as i worked to get better at writing. im sure a lot of you started following me for my gamer!bf sukuna series...trust me, i love him and i know y'all do too. but i feel like my writing is heading in a different direction...and with a heavy heart, i'm absolutely gutted when i say that i am taking a pause on that series. i am forever grateful for the support and may return to him soon, though i cannot promise that. i owe so much of what my account is now to that series and i will never forget that.

for everyone who joined me as i delved into dark/dead dove content, thank you from the bottom of my heart for allowing me a safe space to explore different forms of story-telling. my choso fic was the first stepping stone and then i skipped every other stone on the path and jumped head first into the deep end with my dead dove gojo fic...i deeply appreciate all the positive feedback i received on both of those. after posting them, i realized that i am very into writing dark content. i know that taboo themes/dark content/dead dove subject matter isn't for everyone and i understand people's apprehension in regards to it. but with that being said, i will be moving forward with publishing darker content.

ੈ♡˳ so here's the writing update !

i did a poll asking y'all what kind of content you enjoy. a good chunk of people said long form fics (which is great, cause i do too !! mommy needs plot). so, i am migrating away from one shot writing. both because i've been thinking about it for awhile and because y'all are into longer stories, as well. but fear not, i will still write shorter stuff along with headcannons, drabbles, etc...it just won't be the main focus of my blog anymore.

ੈ♡˳ now, time for the big reveal ! perhaps it's a bit anticlimactic, but bear with me...

im so excited to announce that i have two new series coming ! it will be a dark, modern!au featuring choso (with a few other special guests) and a dead dove sukuna series.

i'm almost finished with the outlines, and have fully completed the theme layout + mood boards for both works. i hope to get the first few chapters wrapped up in the next couple weeks. if you want to be tagged in either of these (or both), just leave a comment or send me a message !

(also !! i may or may not be cooking up a dark medieval au series in collaboration with another writer on here...so be on the lookout for that hehe)

while i take breaks from writing my two series, i'll be working through my requests ! so if you've sent one in, i promise i will get to it, unless i literally cannot think of a good way to write it (im only human, im so sorry). also, im sure we already knew this, but im a slowww writer. i wish i could churn content out quick as fuck but i am too hypercritical of myself…it's both a blessing and a curse, honestly.

if you made it all the way to the end of this nightmare of a brain dump, i love you. if you've been with me for a while, i love you. if you're just now joining me, i love you. everyone who’s supported me in any way, shape, or form, i love you.

i present you with the sloppiest kiss with tongue (only if you want it, of course. i can also give you the tightest hug, the gentlest head pat, or my social security number...access to all my bank accounts? a mansion in the hills? my passport? hand in marriage? my first born child? literally whatever you want, babe).

okay !! i think that's all for the updates. feeling: very ambitious and motivated but also overwhelmed and mildly stressed but overall super excited for what's to come. im looking forward to this new adventure and i hope y'all come along with me ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

thank you again…for literally everything. yall hold a special place in my heart and always will. so, here we go !

see you on the other side, my loves.

— jade 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

[enixamyram]

Long Rant About Greek Retellings

This is a post I'm using to vent. Feel free to ignore it or not, I just need to get these thoughts out in the open.

Summary of my rant: It's dumb to hold the "crimes" of the original stories against retellings that change these things. And stop being an asshole to people who write/enjoy harmless retellings.

This comes about because TikTok's keep popping up on my FYP and they're genuinely making me want to bang my head against a wall.

The most common that I've seen is people bitching and moaning about the artist on Webtoons who is doing a retelling of Ganymede's story. These people are definitely the worst since I saw them bragging in the comments about how they are constantly tagging the artist (aka, harassing them!) in other videos about the original story and messaging them and just being bullies. Now this is just shitty in general because I'm pretty sure the artist has stated this will not be a romanticized version. But for the sake of my rant, let's pretend that it is. Let's pretend that someone is retelling the story of Zeus and Ganymede with a romantic focus.

Why is that so wrong? I keep bringing up Hades and Persephone because they are a perfect example of this being done multiple times. Both Persephone and Ganymede's stories are incredibly similar with them being kidnapped, held hostage and eventually settling in their new lives. Obviously there are many versions, but one of the versions I read had both of them coming to enjoy their new lives and being happy there. Now in our world, we would agree that's very Stokholm creepy coded but back when these were written it probably wasn't intended that way.

Now if someone decides they want to rewrite the story, fixing the toxic parts of the story (eg. having Persephone willingly go with Hades because she fell for him before he took her to the Underworld and having her willingly eating food in order to stay with him) and keeping the later romance... That's fine. There's nothing wrong with that. There are many retellings and reboots that try and "fix" things that didn't quite work in the original and I'm always in favor of that because it's interesting seeing another version of this updated.

So if someone wants to age up Ganymede and rewrite it in however they choose to write it, why is that wrong? People against it usually respond with "in the original...!" and my response to that is: This isn't the original! That's the whole point! If you genuinely can't let go of the original source, then I suggest you don't read/watch anything that retells it.

Another example I want to give is Calypso. I'll admit, I don't know her original story (I really want to look it up because I'm curious but as of writing this, I am ignorant to it) but since Epic has blown up, I've seen a lot of people talking about her. Especially during her song in the Vengence Saga and a bit of a debate has started over whether or not she's genuine or manipulative. Now whatever your feelings of her and her story/song, I just want to focus on one thing I saw, again on TikTok:

Someone said they hated people making Calypso's story a tragic one, that she is the villain and nothing will undo her S-A-ing Odysessus and - I'm literally quoting them here - "not even if you do a retelling where she didn't"...

Am I alone or is that the dumbest thing to say?

You can feel whatever you want against the "originals", but you cannot hold the original toxic traits against retellings, especially if they make a point of changing these things. That's ridiculously stupid. If you cannot handle this, then don't read/watch retellings because you don't actually get to dictate what story someone tells or how they tell it.

If you want an "accurate" (I use that term very loosely) story of Ganymede or Calypso, then bloody write it yourself. Don't give artist and creators shit because you don't like the choices they made.

One side note I wanna add: You cannot have a high horse against retellings unless you have somehow successfully managed to avoid the dozens and dozens of retellings that have existed all our lives. Just for a quick example, every Disney version of the Fairy Tale is a retelling of it that changes details to make it more romantic/fix little details like the ages of the princesses at the time.

I have my own personal opinions on certain stories. I'm not a fan of Hades and Persephone stories that demonize Demeter. I might make a post saying as such, but then I will move one. Because there's nothing wrong with a retelling, even if I don't personally find enjoyment in it. And giving others a hard time because they don't agree with you on this is just the height of arrogance.

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

hi :) binge read your de fic that you have posted on ao3 last night and really enjoyed all of it! excited to see any updates. was wondering if you have any rec for other fic youve read and enjoyed-- i am not god's bravest soldier and do not enjoy trudging through tags and was wondering if you had read anything yourself that you really enjoyed lolol

Hey, thanks so much!!! Sorry it's taken a couple days to answer this, I'm poor as shit and have two jobs now wah... capitilism...

I'm working on the next 46' chapter, It's about 70% complete and I generally let it sit for an evening once it's done then re-read it the next day to catch the vast majority of mistakes (I edit everything myself) so I'd say expect that in the coming days.

I have some thoughts! I... Have never been asked for fic recs before so I'm gonna list a bunch in no particular order that I enjoyed, and reasons why. I will note that I tend to enjoy meaty plot-based works over fluff, so that's what I'll be recommending. Anyway!

Paddling Out (THE REPEATER CORPSE CONUNDRUM) - @transhitman - So this is the first DE fic I read and it set the bar pretty fucking high. YOU'VE GOT: a very cool and insular setting (don't get me wrong I like fics where they travel around Revachol too, but there's something to be said for building a set and living in it for a while) YOU'VE GOT: extremely harrowing tension and pale-fuckery YOU'VE GOT: some genuinely beautiful, heartfelt moments (I don't want to spoil anything but "people don't need your permission to care about you" kinda undid me) YOU'VE ALSO GOT: Amazing art?! Always a bonus, I wish I could draw people lol

Have You Heard The News That You're Dead? - Wizardlover - Time Loop shenanigans hell yeah! Basic premise: Kim is *unable* to save Harry's life after he's shot at the tribunal, each time he dies he Reawakens in Martinaise on the first day and desperately has to try and find a way to either prevent the Tribunal entirely, or survive it. I think the major draw to this one is how well it's characterised and how well that lends to the major source of tension: trying to convince THE WORLD'S BIGGEST SKEPTIC that you *a man he 'has only just met'* is actually stuck in a time loop. Juicy shit.

The Case Of The Man Who Two-Thirds Wasn't There - @glisteningceruleaneyes - We got another case fic here, gang. This is one of those "they travel around Revachol" numbers I previously mentioned. A lot to love about this fic; the minor OCs are all loveable (or at least well-written, looking at you Mr. Bigot-All-Rounder), the elements of writing in the game's style (particularly use of Harry's 'to do' list that you find in the ledger, you don't see that as often!) are all fantastic. Also without spoiling too much I'm a sucker for hurt/ comfort :) I like when bad things happen to our specialist guy :) ALSO! alternating chapters, Kim vs Harry's perspectives contrast REALLY well! Just a super enjoyable read. - On that note I also wanna include a special mention: there's a podfic for this one and since I mentioned my two jobs, I've been listening to audiobooks at work (I'm a cleaner. It's very boring) and that was a fun change of pace!

The Emergent Causeway - hal_incandenza - Now you KNOW this one is good because it's the only *unfinished* fic I'm recommending. Again, We've got art! We've got a brand new (non-Revachol!) setting that still feels excellently Elysium! We got that excellent balance of humour and misery from the get go! EXCELLENT murder mystery so far, I am intrigued AND also there's a fucking puppy. Hell yeah. This one's from Kim's perspective and does a really good job of it, nothing like a man being begrudgingly sent on holiday and being somewhat relieved to have a corpse to deal with.

A Spilled Kaleidoscope - @spilledkaleidoscope - I'm actually recommending a series here. Real definition of "came for the art, stayed for the writing" I mostly have a soft spot because I got to watch a few "haha, what if-?" musing text posts become a series of written chapters and INCREDIBLE DRAWINGS HOLY SHIT. Like, you really just draw hands for fun, huh? This person made a pact with some sort of devil beasts to draw hands very good, at the bare minimum we can read their fiction.

Nothing To Lose But Our Chains - Lepak - I almost forgot this one and I honestly can't believe it because this is one of these ones that you need a cigarette afterwards. Good fucking god. This is probably the best fic I've ever read in terms of not shying away from the heavy themes that make Disco Elysium such a beautiful, moving game. It tackles a racism in many forms, particularly how people like Kim (in working for the RCM) and immigration laws do their part in upholding racist systems, despite the way it hurts him too. Of course, it's also excellently written with tense scenes and some real funny moments. A real good'un here.

The Catacomb Killer - SupposedToBeWriting - Give Harry more memory loss. Make him convinced he killed a kid. Make *Kim* convinced he killed a kid... Then the plot thickens. I won't lie I can't remember fuck all about this one because I was mostly drunk when I read it, but if it was good enough that I kept reading instead of smoking a spliff or something then it must have been excellent... I will re-read it when I have the time, lmao.

MURDER ON THE AIRWAVES - @randomisedmongoose - I'm just a really big fan of murder mysteries and gore. You show me somebody with brain matter pouring from their earholes and I'm like "yum yum, more of that please." I am a sucker for curious methods of murder and this one's good for that. Lots of trekking back and forth like in the game again. More ACAB - always good.

I did not mean to include this many...........................

Oh well. Here's my list, there are plenty of others I've enjoyed but these are just the ones that came to mind! Thanks again for reading my fic! Always makes me happy when people let me know they enjoy my writing :3