#i have also never done a proper background before i think

[morii-moth]

my contribution to @chrisrin 's gemcyt au :)

+ inspo from @lolli-popples 's jade design for scott n cleos fusion

[sporefound]

thinking about how amanita is pretty young for a drow & basically speedran the beginning stages of her life. i think she looked promising on the surface but was also reckless enough that when it was time to step back, she chose not to & had to face the consequences for that.

[krysmcscience]

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

[greensagephase]

a random thought/imagine because I NEED to run into a Miguel at a Mexican party and falling in love with him! @fairlyang 's post got me going, I was going to reblog my crazy scenario through their post, and then this turned TOO LONG (I'm delusional, so that's why this is so detailed)!!

If you're not Latina/Mexican - just hear a delusional woman out plsssss (me hoping to manifest by writing this fr fr)

Going to a Mexican party, sitting at a table with my family because soy una muchacha seria y callada (I'm a serious and quiet girl), so I'm not on the dance floor, but I see Miguel in the crowd with the other men talking, dressed with a sombrero and botas (cowboy hat and boots), wearing gold jewelry (he's Mexican he has to wear gold jewelry, sorry not sorry).

I'm trying very hard not to stare and make it obvious because my fam is there and I'm a good family girl, a proper señorita, who hasn't been with anyone nor has done anything with anyone (this is my version guys, so don't mind the personal touches here) but !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'M ALREADY IMAGINING WHAT HIS VOICE SOUNDS LIKE, HOW MUCH TALLER HE'D BE IF I WERE STANDING IN FRONT OF EACH OTHER!! I'm subtly -oh so subtly- admiring his large broad shoulders and BACKKK (having some serious thoughts about this part; hint: my long nails, anywayyyy), the way he stands, his thick thighs, the way he lifts a cup to his mouth, his laugh, his smile - yall, I'm planning a whole wedding, even though I know I'm not making a damn move because your girl IS SHY IRL (a moment for the shy girls ✊🏼😔), but a girl can daydream behind the centros de mesa (table centerpieces) my mom and grandma are taking home by the end of the night!!

I keep watching him, subtly, telling myself it's silly but I keep daydreaming anyway. IT'S FREE!!!!!!

He ends up spotting me from across the room while some love song is playing in the background because you know, Latinos and our love songs!! It's probably something like "Háblame de Ti" by Banda MS or some song by Grupo Frontera like "Bebe Dame" 😍 (iykyk) anyway, the music is not helping your delusional girl (me, you, us, everyone).

Imagine imagine imagine - MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AS HE BRINGS THE CUP TO HIS MOUTH WITH A LITTLE SMIRKKK-(why did I just get goosebumps?) YALL YAL YALL

Freezing up and going through all stages of grief because I was caught staring !!!!!!!!!!!! I look away, trying to play it off even though my cheeks are the color of the red flowers adorning the room!!! I'm drinking some water, trying to C H I L L because I can feel his gaze on me.

Thinking it's safe, I look again AND - HE'S STARING

Then for idk how long it's just a lot of ignoring/pretending that's not happening because once again, I'M SHYYYY (once I get to know you I open up but like, it takes a hot week) but I'm just thinking, "este hombre" (this man; also wondering what his name is and why I've never seen this man before???) because I'm literally dying pretending I'm okay and fighting the inappropriate thoughts while sitting next to my grandma because Miguel keeps staring, going along with his conversation with the men (who have noticed him staring and probably tease him about making a move, or telling him to forget it because "esa muchacha/morra no baila con nadie" (that girl doesn't dance with anyone). So he just watches from a distance, trying to gather some info and noticing little things like how I'm avoiding his gaze, the nervous smile, trying to pretend that side of the building doesn't exist-

and thennnnnnnnnnnnnnn

at some point he leaves his side of the room, steps determined. I once again *subtly* notice this and then freak out when he's coming my way but I'm like "no way, right? right?" *hearts racing abnormally*

IMAGINE HIM APPROACHING THE TABLE AND INTRODUCING HIMSELF TO YOUR PARENTS AND GRANDMA, OR WHOEVER ELSE IS THERE?? And then looking at you, giving you a gentle, soft smile WITH SOME MISCHIEF BEHIND THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BROWN EYES YOU'VE EVER HAD THE PRIVILIGE LAYING EYES ON AND MAKING YOU FEEL THINGS - or like a commenter said the other day in one of my posts "senti cosas de mujer" (I felt women things)!! YOU'RE FEELING THINGS THINGS !!!

AND HE ASKS YOUR PARENTS IF HE CAN ASK YOU TO DANCE WITH HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE HE REALIZES YOU'RE A FAMILY GIRL, AND THAT'S HOW HE'S GOING TO WIN YOUR FAMILY SO HE CAN HAVE YOU BECAUSE MANS HAS ALSO ALREADY PLANNED THE WEDDING RECEPTION'S MENU !!!!!!!!!!!

ok bye, thank you for listening to my unhinged scenario but in all seriousness - God - I've seen what you've done for others !!!!! Send a Miguel O'Hara lookalike my way with sombrero y botas, chest hair, and gold jewelry, and who knows how to fix the light that turned on in my vehicle, which I've been ignoring for months, and who helps with the masa for the tamales para Navidad (helps with the tamales dough for Christmas) because he has large, warm hands 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

[shina913]

I wish you would write a fic where....reader is going to get a pedicure but her normal nail tech is out, and the owner's cute son (you pick the member) who's back in town volunteers to do reader's appointment. (hehehe)

Jess!!! I did it 🤣 I didn’t think I could but I actually had a lot of fun with this! Thank you for this ask. I hope I did it justice 💜

******

Self-Care Sunday | JJK

Pairing: NailTech!Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Meet cute; fluff

Warnings: Some naughty thoughts but nothing explicit; slight references to gender stereotypes and occupations

Word count: 3k+words

Summary: You arrive at your mani-pedi appointment to find out that your usual technician is unexpectedly out. Instead, the salon owner’s son offers to do your nails instead.

A/N: Just for fun! Also, I was too impatient and wanted to actually post on a Sunday, which is why I didn’t have time to find a proper banner image for this. I’ll fix that tomorrow 😅 Thank you @midnightagust for your eyes 🥰 hope you all enjoy this!

Every weekend, you make a point to treat yourself to some form of pampering. Whether you went out to get your hair done or simply curled up on your couch to enjoy a book, ‘Self-Care Sunday’ was a big deal for you. It was a way to reset and prepare for the week ahead.

This weekend, you’re going for a mani-pedi. You walk into the nail salon about five minutes before your appointment time.

The small reception booth in front is empty, but the rest of the ladies who are busy with customers pause to greet you since you’re a regular. You begin to scan the room for your usual manicurist, hoping to check in and get set up.

Oddly, she’s nowhere in sight so you ask one of the ladies closest to you, who was giving a pedicure to another client.

“Annie just left. She said she was feeling sick,” she says to you.

“Oh no.” You look around again to see that everyone else is tending to their own clients. There’s no way any of these ladies would be able to take you on this morning. You’re disappointed but it’s not the end of the world. “I guess I could just reschedule my appointment–”

“No, hun, you don’t have to! It’s why she didn’t call to cancel. Our manager will take care of you.”

The salon’s manager, Lily, wasn’t afraid to jump in to help out whenever it was busy. It was a small comfort to know that the day wasn’t going to be a complete waste and you knew that you were in good hands.

The nail technician points to the vacant spa chair next to her and you help yourself. She pauses her work to fill the basin with warm water so you can soak your feet in while waiting for the manager.

“He’ll be right out, okay?” She says with a smile before turning back to her client.

Your eyebrows scrunch in curiosity. You could have sworn she said 'he,' but maybe you were hearing things. You dismiss the thought and activate the massage function on your chair, then start scrolling through your phone while waiting.

A few minutes later, you notice movement in your peripheral vision. As the figure settles on the low stool in front of you, you raise your head to greet them. Your voice gets caught in your throat when you realize that it isn't Lily.

"Hi!"

You’re stunned at the sight of a man sitting in front of you. He looks young and devastatingly hot. You would never expect to see someone who looked like him at a nail salon, let alone working at one. His big, round, beautiful eyes make you want to melt into the water your feet were soaking in.

“Uhm…h-hi,” you choke out once your brain lurches back to life. “I thought the manager was going to do my mani-pedi.”

He grins proudly, spreading a towel on the footrest of the spa chair. "Yep! You're looking at him!"

You feel confused. Did Lily quit or hire someone new? It’s been three weeks since your last appointment. In the background, you hear the other nail technicians giggling amongst themselves.

Seeing the worried look on your face, he explains, "My mom is taking a break, so I'm filling in for her."

You vaguely remember Lily mentioning her children in passing. Since she looks relatively young for her age, she’s always said that people are shocked to hear when she tells them that she has a grown son.

Well, consider yourself shaken to the core.

"I'm Jungkook, by the way," he extends his hand towards you. You're both baffled and overwhelmed by how handsome he looks. The massage chair's tapping setting propels you forward, snapping you out of your daze.

You reach forward to shake his hand and introduce yourself. Although he has a firm grip, his hands are surprisingly soft, sending a chill down your spine.

“When Annie said that she wasn’t feeling well, I offered to take the rest of her appointments for the day,” he divulges.

You look at him skeptically. You’ve never received a manicure and pedicure from a male technician before—especially not from one who was this cute.

He chuckles. "I know, I know. You're probably thinking, 'Does this guy even know what the hell he's doing?' Well, let me assure you that my mom personally trained me. If she's ever worked on you, you can expect the same level of quality from me. But I understand if you feel uneasy. The last thing I want is for a client to feel that way.”

You’re still apprehensive but he sounds confident. You get a grip and nod, giving him consent to continue with the appointment.

“Thanks,” he says softly and with a look of relief. “You booked a deluxe pedicure and manicure, right?”

The deluxe mani-pedi comes with a longer-than-usual massage on your hands and feet. Thinking about this man's hands kneading your tired muscles makes you sweat.

“Y-yes, I did,” you nervously confirm.

He nods in acknowledgment, and you gulp as he begins to dip the pumice sponge into the basin to scrub your heels. He’s careful and gentle with each pass, totally unlike what you’ve been used to. It’s a stark contrast to these ladies, who have manhandled you in surprising ways—especially the petite, older techs. They’re still sweet, though, and they do a great job, but you admit that this is a nice change of pace.

The rest of your pedicure prep goes smoothly until it was time for the massage.

He drains the water from the basin then he props your feet on the footrest. The stool is too low for his frame but he doesn’t complain. He’d rather make the adjustment so you wouldn’t have to bend awkwardly from your seat.

After drying your feet with a towel, he squeezes some lotion into his hands and starts massaging it into your calf muscles. Typically, some ladies prefer to keep their gloves on for sanitary purposes, but Jungkook has taken off his gloves just before the massage. You figured he was the manager on duty, so he could do whatever he wanted. And not that you had any objections, as the skin-on-skin contact feels nice. Better, actually.

You don't know why, but your gaze is drawn to his thighs, which are spread widely in front of you. It's incredibly distracting and you struggle to look away. You wonder if the awkward positioning of his knees against the spa chair is causing him to sit like that, or if there is something else between his legs that he's trying to adjust for.

“Is the pressure okay?” His question pulls you back into reality.

"What? Oh, yeah. It's good. It's fine," you manage to cobble together. His touch is firm, yet gentle enough to be relaxing. Silently, you think, if he was this good with your legs, how would his hands feel on the rest of your body?

"Are you sure? I could apply more, if you prefer. I always try to start off slow, but I can go deeper, depending on how you like it."

You grip the chair's armrests in response as your mouth goes dry. "N-no, you don’t need to go deeper. What you're doing is...great.” Your voice comes out breathy, but in an effort to distract yourself, you dig your phone out of your purse and start randomly scrolling through your social media feed. Now was not the time to be getting horny over your nail technician.

He suppresses a smile at your response. "Okay then.”

******

You manage to survive the rest of the pedicure without any additional incidents, much to your relief. He slips your sandals back onto your feet with ease, without smudging your freshly painted toes, and helps you over to the manicure table.

Once you settle in your seat, you rest your hands on the cushion and dip them into a cuticle-softening solution while he sets up the rest of his tools. While waiting for your fingers to soak up the solution, he checks in with you.

“Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“I’m good right now, thanks.”

"Okay.” Then, he leans in, lowers his voice, and asks, “How do you think I’m doing so far?"

You smile warmly at him. "I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised." Your toes didn't look streaky, nor did he get polish on your skin. You were impressed!

Your response makes him smile from ear to ear, his nose crinkling in amusement.

"Thanks. I know most women think it's weird to get a mani-pedi from a dude."

You sigh and decide to fess up. He seemed self-aware and appreciated honesty. "Well, I have to be honest—I was definitely apprehensive at first," you admit then follow it with a shrug. "But then I thought, hey, it's a job. If you can do it and have the skills for it? Why not? It shouldn't be restricted by gender."

His brow arches at your remark. "My thoughts exactly!" He agrees emphatically.

You feel another spark of electricity surge through you as he lifts your hand. You watch as he examines your fingers under the light.

“Mm…nice, long, nail beds.” His compliment followed but his thumb brushing over your fingers makes your belly flutter.

“But I bet you probably get that a lot,” he adds with a laugh.

“Not as often as you think,” you say. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was coming onto you.

“Just a regular manicure, right? Not gel?”

“Yeah. I thought, if I got the gel, I can’t get the usual hand massage—”

“I can still give you the massage,” he interjects.

“Oh. But what about the oils? I thought it’s not good for the gel base?” You hesitate.

He shrugs as if it's a non-factor. "I can do the massage after I cure your nails under the light. That way, the polish adheres nicely and it’ll be all set. But if you still prefer a regular manicure, that's fine—we’ll do that. I just want you to know that you have the option," he assures you.

You purse your lips to think for a few seconds. “Well, if you’re sure the massage won’t mess with the gel—”

“It won’t, I promise!” He says confidently. “My mom’s old school and she’d never do it that way but I think that you can still make it work.” After he says it out loud, one of the female technicians next to him scoffs. Seems like she prefers the standard method, too.

Jungkook rolls his eyes subtly at her reaction and turns his attention back to you. “If you don’t like it, I’ll give you your money back.”

That sounded fair to you.

“Alright. I trust you.”

After you decide on gel polish colors, he begins to trim your cuticles and file your nails. But just when you thought you could easily survive the pedicure, him being this close, and at eye-level, was going to be an uphill battle. He looks so focused and precise in his movements; it’s relaxing to watch. Even the little pout he does while maneuvering your finger to apply the polish with the utmost precision to cover every surface of your nail is cute.

You make small talk while he works. Not the usual gossip that you’re used to with the female technicians. You feel comfortable around him but not enough to spill all of your secrets.

“So, are you doing this full-time?”

“No,” he answers before he guides your hand into the curing lamp. “I have a day job but I mostly work from home. My mom said that needed help and I didn’t hesitate to step up. She works very hard.”

Oh no…he’s not only cute but he also loves his mom. You can’t help but feel endeared. You also note that he doesn’t have a ring on his finger. Lily hasn’t mentioned any daughters-in-law, that you recall.

You decide to sound casual to break the tension a bit. “This job must be a great way to pick up women, too, huh?”

He pauses before meeting your gaze. The corner of his mouth curves into a cocky smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Your cheeks heat up. You immediately realize that your comment may have crossed a line, thinking you were at that level of comfort with him just because he touched your bare feet. You kick yourself internally for being presumptuous.

“S-sorry,” you shyly tear your eyes away from him. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

He brushes off the exchange. “It’s cool. Honestly, there aren’t many women falling over themselves to go out with a male nail technician,” he says in jest. “Some people have specific perceptions. They’re usually wrong but I don’t bother to correct them.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel bad as you’d made assumptions about him too. “I mean, I think you have a lot of patience to be working on nails. Not to mention that you’re a handsome guy who gives great foot massages. I don’t see why any woman wouldn’t want to get more of that.” You catch yourself too late when you realize what you’ve just said.

He snorts your comment but doesn’t pile on it. “You’d think, right?”

You clear your throat and attempt to recover. “Well, you’re also easy to talk to. You keep the conversation flowing.” Your voice is still tight, embarrassed from your ‘cute guy who gives great foot massages’ comment.

“I appreciate that,” he smiles. He examines your nails, one last time, running the pads of his fingers over the polish to make sure that it has set properly. When he’s satisfied, he says, “Looks good. I’ll be right back, okay? Then we can get to your hand massage.” He excuses himself and gathers his tools to soak them in a cleaning solution.

When he walks away and disappears into the back room, you release a breath you seemed to be holding in for far too long. You’d never been this wound up during a mani-pedi.

A few minutes later, he returns and sets a warm towel down. He then moves the magnifying lamp out of the way, giving you a complete and unobstructed view of him. Unfortunately, this doesn't bode well for you.

“So, do you have any plans after this?” He asks casually while massaging circles into your forearms.

You’re all flustered again. “Not much. Maybe I’ll grab some mid-day coffee or something then head home.”

“Nice. Where do you grab coffee?” The feel of him dragging the pads of his fingers on your slicked skin, couple with his piercing gaze are causing your breathing to go ragged again. Suddenly, your brain blanks out on where your favorite coffee spot is.

“Just, uhm—” you struggle to pull the name out of your memory at first but manage to blurt it out when he squeezes your fingers. “It’s not far from here.”

“Oh. I don’t live in this neighborhood so I’m not familiar.” His thumb and forefinger knead your muscles in a way that should normally not feel arousing to you, but it does. And you can’t help when your thoughts slide back into wondering what else those magic fingers can do.

“I figured, if I was going to be helping out here more, maybe I should get to know the area– especially places to eat. You think you can you give me directions to the cafe?”

You shift in your seat. “Well, it’s sort of a hole-in-the-wall place. The GPS is kind of spotty on it. You have to be a local to really know where it’s at.”

“Well, my break’s coming up after this. Maybe we can drive together?”

It takes a couple of seconds for you to realize it. He's not stupid, and you were right – he's definitely self-aware. He knows that you're affected by him. Smiling to yourself, you’re happy to let him know that the feeling is mutual.

Your eyebrows twitch at how forward he’s being. “A break? But it’s only 11:30?” You laugh.

“What can I say? I think I worked you really hard–”

His response makes your eyes bulge and causes your jaw to drop.

“Oh, sorry–I meant to say, you worked me really hard.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and it makes him laugh out loud, too. He was a cocky little shit but you’re not mad at it.

When your laughs die down, he says, “I think we can both agree that we did our best to fight this–” he gestures at the space between you two.

“Oh, is that right?” You ask playfully.

"Yeah. I think we deserve a little treat. Maybe grab some lunch, wherever you want." You’re mildly aware that the massage is over but his fingers are still lingering on your hands while he patiently waits for your answer.

This is one of the most unusual ways you've been asked out, but there's a first time for everything. After thinking it over, you decide to give it a chance. "Okay. But if I agree to go to lunch with you, do I still need to tip you for the mani-pedi?”

He purses his lips in thought for a few seconds before countering. "Tell you what—if you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night, the service is on the house. We can call it even then.”

His playful proposition catches you off guard but it also intrigues you. Again, you find yourself unable to resist his charm.

“Alright.”

Your response makes him smile full-on and it’s infectious, so you can’t help but smile back. He starts to clean up his station, then turns to the older nail technician next to him who saw the whole situation unfold.

“Auntie, please don’t tell my mom,” he whispers mischievously, causing her to laugh after she agrees not to rat him out.

You giggle at his request and tell him, “I guess I’ll meet you out front whenever you’re ready?”

“Sounds good. We’ll take my car so we don’t ruin my masterpiece there,” he points at your hands.

You laugh at his retort and shake your head. Never in a million years did you ever think that you’d find a date a the nail salon. It’s one of the better things to come out of your Self-Care Sundays.

Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

[spikedsoul]

Imagine the fanfic happening in the movie universe.

Honey is the maid (Human, maybe?) that takes care of Bowser, feeding him and listening to his new Peach songs. Until, one day, the songs aren't about Peach anymore.

Gently hold small husband with salad tongs-

CAN YOU IMAGINE also um I couldn't help myself. Did i get carried away? Yes! (Although I didn't include the last bit, sorry!) Hopefully I kept him in character from the movie lmao

You were used to hearing Bowser talk and sing about Peach as you made his food, did his laundry, cleaned his room like the giant manchild he was. The only time he acknowledged that you existed was when he needed to bend someone's ear about his plans (marrying Peach) and Kamek wasn't around... but you weren't complaining. It was steady work and steady pay, and you were taken care of well enough that for now, you could handle it. In fact the only regular direct interaction you had with him was bringing his food, and he usually just snatched it from you without a word.

You'd also been privy to some of his more tender moments, a mere anonymous shoulder to lament to. Over the years, you'd learned to see past the anger, past the obsession, to know he's got a heart buried deep inside that chest - if only someone could reach it. But you kept it all to yourself - he probably still didn't know your name.

And why should he? He was a king, and you were paid to be a maid, silent and invisible. And that was fine. Things didn't need to be complicated. It was a simple business transaction.

You slipped into his music room as you'd done so many times before, listening to him play as you quietly got to work tidying up around him.

Sometimes it felt like he didn't even know you were there - but that allowed you to sort of see under that spiked shell of his, so you really didn't mind. Although, he never stopped playing either way, so who knew?

"Tell me, sweetheart," you heard him rumble over the music, "what is it that keeps you here?"

You hadn't heard those lyrics before, but the spoken word style suited them.

He chuckled - well, cackled more like - as he continued playing. "So diligently taking care of my castle, and me, and never once caring to speak up. So content to stay hidden in the background. You've never recoiled from my touch or looked at me like the villain I am, nor have you let leak any of my.... hmm, less than proud moments. So tell me, my sweet little handmaiden, do you think you're invisible to me?"

You dropped your broom in shock and spun around to see him, but he wasn't anywhere in sight. The only sound that echoed through the chamber now was the clatter of the broom handle hitting the floor.

What the fuck just happened? Did you hallucinate all of that just now? Your wide eyes swept the room in front of you, your mouth hanging open; it's been a while since you'd been on a proper vacation, so maybe you had imagined it...

With a quiet sigh, you turned around to pick up your broom - only to be met with a massive, scaly paw wrapping gently around your throat, clawed thumb forcing your head back by your chin. Your face flushed brightly as you stared doe-eyed right into King Bowser's grinning face.

"L-Lord Bowser," you stammered, absolutely ashamed of how you felt about his warm hand encompassing your neck so easily. Through all your interactions, this was the first time you'd ever touched him, and you had to admit his scales were smoother than you'd expected.

His eyes narrowed as he watched you, his nostrils fluttering as he dragged you a little closer to him. That terrible, beautiful grin didn't leave him.

"My silent little human minion," he purred; his breath wafted over your face, the smell of woodsmoke heavy in your nose. "I've been thinking a lot lately, you know.... about you. About us. About what could be..."

"Wh-what can I do for you, sir?" Your voice quivered and you could feel your throat bob against his hand when you swallowed; his not so subtle implications were making you dizzy.

He hummed, bringing his free hand up to drag his claws through your locks. "I want you to tell me about me. I want to know what a mere human like you thinks of the great Lord Bowser - and I want your true feelings, got it?" he growled quietly. "You've seen more of me than even Kamek is privy to, and I demand to know why you stick around."

You resisted the urge to let out a sigh; he was just fishing for compliments, thank God, despite his thinly veiled threat. If you actually told him the truth, you feared you'd end up dead. Not that you really had bad things to say! Bowser was just a little unpredictable sometimes.

You brought your hands up to lightly rest them over the one that held your throat, but you didn't try pulling away one way or another. That seemed to confuse Bowser, his head tilting to the side as his grin slowly faded.

"Well, sir," you murmured, slowly relaxing, "even though you desire to dominate other kingdoms and crush your enemies... you still seem like you would treat your allies well. I mean, look at me: I'm a lowly maid, but I get paid well and I feel relatively protected on the occasion things get a little... ah, rough. As fierce as you are... I don't feel like I need to fear you, exactly. Which is a good thing as your employee."

Bowser's pupils dilated slightly as he seemed to consider your words. You just hoped they were honeyed enough to appease him instead of set him off, but either way you'd find out in a few seconds.

"...That ain't all, is it?" he finally huffed. "I know you got more opinions on me than that political shit you just spouted, so tell me. Promise I won't get mad." And then he gave you the best puppy dog eyes you'd ever seen.

Oh, heavens help you. There was zero reason for this koopa to be so.... cute.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage, and then practically blurted out one of your deepest feelings about him: "Sometimes you seem like you could use a real hug and a caring friend."

His jaw dropped as he stared at you in surprise. You stared right back at him, just as surprised that that's what came out.

The silence between the two of you stretched on until you couldn't bear it anymore and you finally turned around, chiming, "M-maybe I should get back to work-"

"Wait!" Before you could even blink, Bowser snatched you off your feet, holding you up in the air like he was afraid you'd try to run.

You blinked at him, a little surprised. "...Yessir?" you asked calmly despite the blush threatening to return. Momentarily, all he did was stare at you a little dumbly before recollecting himself a little.

"I-I, uh, just thought - I mean, if you wanted to give me a real hug, I'd - I'd allow that. And the... friend thing..."

Ah, you knew that code. He wanted a hug, but he didn't want to seem like he wanted it. Poor guy.

"...You know what, now that I think about it, I think a hug would be real nice. How about you let me know every time you're in the mood to allow me to hug you, huh?" you murmured. "And if you'd like me to-"

Bowser nodded, and without hesitation (or letting you finish) he held you to his wide chest, pressing your face right against it. Unfortunately your arms were pinned to your sides so you couldn't really hug back, but you could still feel some of the tension leak out of his body when he realized you weren't squirming or trying to get away.

"You know..." The vibration of his deep voice made your head buzz pleasantly, pressed against his chest as it was. "Between you and me, maybe Peach is just a siren trying to lure me into a false love, using her pretty face to keep me from seeing someone who'd really care about me..."

Since he couldn't see your face, you rolled your eyes. "Then does this mean you have your eyes suddenly set on someone else, sir?" you asked politely.

He set you back on your feet and crouched so that his face was level with yours, his large hands keeping a gentle hold of yours. "I don't know if "suddenly" is the right word... there's been a slow realization over a few years, but I suppose I'm finally ready to give up on Peach in favor of a more promising potential."

You smiled a little, daring to reach out; Bowser's eyes watched your hand as it fell gently on his nose. His pupils blew wide. Although you opened your mouth to say something, it was then that it dawned on you that Bowser wasn't actually crouching - he was kneeling.

"B-Bowser?" you breathed as, once again, your face grew hot with the intensity of your blush. But even as you stared at that adorably sweet face he was making, the sincerity and silent plea for some sort of consensual companionship was almost overwhelming.

"I'm gonna make you my bride one way or another... sweetheart."

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Could you do some modern day Soda headcanons please? I love him so much and I love your blog so much soooooo….

Ok so soda is tricky for me to write but I tried my best!!!

Modern Au Sodapop Headcanons

-Drinks every single energy drink imaginable. Rockstar? Like its water. Prime? For the plot. 5 hour energy? He’ll down it in five seconds. Darry is HORRIFIED.

-Is pretty enough he’s one of those people who becomes moderately famous on TikTok without having to really do much. His followers notice he’s always talking to someone off camera, and they’re desperate to find out who it is, but Soda only ever responds to comments with ‘oh that’s just Stevie, he doesn’t like TikTok’.

-Soda’s followers have a lot of theories about this ‘Stevie’. Soda is weirdly tight lipped about him, despite the fact he often breaks off mid rant in videos to talk to him. There’s also the fact that the rest of the gang is often around/in the background of videos, but the mysterious ‘Stevie’ never appears. (okok I’ll stop here before this becomes a Stevepop social media au)

-Regularly forgets to take his ADHD meds and Darry often has to remind him

-Would either have a hockey flow or a mullet (whatever y’all think, personally I think modern Soda with a hockey flow tracks with his character)

-One of those people who loves horror movies but is also completely terrified of even the dumbest ones and has to sleep with the lights on for weeks afterwards. Steve makes fun of him for it, but will also stay up on the phone with him if Soda watches one by himself and freaks himself out

-Has a million fidget spinners because they actually help him focus on stuff when he needs to

-Soda in modern AU wouldn’t call Ponyboy ‘kid brother’ as a nickname (don’t get me wrong, I love it but Ive never heard it used irl). Instead, I think him and Darry (and thus the rest of the gang) refer to Pony as ‘shrimp’ and Ponyboy absolutely hates it  “where’s the shrimp” “he’s has track practice ‘till four, you of all people should know that Dar” (brought to you by me and my interactions with my own little brothers)

-The whole gang is super into video games, but Soda is kind of shit at them and lowkey grumpy about it

-Every teacher he’s ever had has done that thing where they expect him to be exactly like his older sibling, and therefore expect him to be a model student like Darry, and every time they are proven entirely wrong. By the time the same teachers see Ponyboy’s name on their class lists they’re terrified of what to expect

-He definitely had that horrible middle school boy stage where he just reeked of axe body spray and BO before he figured out proper hygiene

-Every two weeks him and Steve end up doing some sort of YouTube deep dive where they end up being convinced of some sort of wild conspiracy theory that Ponyboy and sometimes Darry have to spend three hours talking them out of

-Uses far too many emojis in texts

-He had a pet hamster once and you know that thing died in the most horrendous way imaginable. Two-bit probably farted into the cage at one point as a joke and the poor thing asphyxiated to death or some shit like that

-He’s that kid in group projects who does nothing and tanks the presentation for everyone by mispronouncing half the words on the slides some other group member made for him

-Him and Steve are so inseparable that when they’re not together people will be like ‘where’s your boyfriend’ and he just answers without thinking before flushing really hard and sputtering a bit. 

-One of those people that casually catches snakes with his bare hands. Steve HATES it and Ponyboy is TERRIFIED of snakes so he gets in trouble with Darry if he does it too often or brings them near the house

[inkdragonworks]

June Update

Breaking the chain of not updating to talk about what I've been working on. As the absence of Poppin & Jupa here can tell, I switched projects back in April, to an older one I worked on for about 8 months in 2022. Main reason was feeling dejected a bit after the animation didn't do as well as I was expecting; been getting the impression that Tiera is more popular than them with folks lol.

Again I won't be cancelling it, or never working on PnJ, just switching focus so I can stay productive and make something that feels fun for me, which this has.

------------------------------

As a refresher, here's the game I've been picking at:

The game's current design can be broken down into:

intro sequence to introduce Tiera and the setting

initial puzzle + encounter to introduce the main mechanics

large hub in the form of Fragaria Park where you avoid the main threat, collect items, interact with side attractions, and access the 4 side areas

4 side areas, which have their own puzzles/challenges within with a primary goal at the end that progresses you towards the final escape

optional collectibles Since April I've worked on a part of the large hub, 3 of the 4 side areas, and the optional collectibles.

"Who works on optional stuff before the main game is done" well they play off of the main mechanics but mainly it's an excuse to draw something cute instead of programming.

These are Anna Banana and The Fruit Friends (Also Strawberry), characters from a cartoon show that Tiera likes (Except Strawberry).

They don't play any significant role/impact in the game (Besides Strawberry), but they reveal part of Tiera's interests, they form a small bit of the world's background, they make for fun type of collectible that gives something to do besides the main puzzles, and, again, I just felt like drawing cute shit.

------------------------------

For the hub, I worked on a themed side area dedicated to a playground. This does have puzzle elements in it, but a lot of it are silly interactions, and a reference to that cartoon I did a while back. Maybe you can recognize it here.

It's one of those "makes the setting feel more realized/fleshed out" deals.

------------------------------

For the side areas, what I've mainly been doing is settling on their exact design, blocking out the areas, and working on their puzzle sequence, obstacles, and any single screens that are tied to it.

Here's what I mean by "single screen":

Something that cuts away from the main game to it's own puzzle. This one here is for the performance theater. All graphics are placeholders just to get the logic in and see if it might work.

Making these type of puzzles is fun cause it reminds me the most of Resident Evil 1 and various flash adventure games I've played.

As for obstacles, a significant one I'm playing with for the theater is darkness, making use of Tiera's sonar to detect a safe path around deep pits.

She won't fall off right away, but it's tied to the same stamina system.

------------------------------

Another side area are the sewers, everyone's favorite video game setting. That obviously involves water, but the trickiest thing about it has been dealing with really complicated patterns of depth changing.

What that means is Tiera climbing up and falling down a lot, and trying to keep track of that. Here's what that looks like without proper graphics:

I'm very happy with how the area is turning out so far though, it's something you'd get to later and I think the puzzles do a good job of reflecting that progression.

------------------------------

The last side area I've poked at was the final sequence of the game. I've had a lot of different ideas of how to go about it but I think I'm happy with the set of them I have planned, something that builds up towards the climax and building off of what was set up in the rest of the game.

I wanna be careful about spoiling it, but here's one effect from it I've started work on:

------------------------------

I'm trying not to overshare here, though there's a lot more I've thrown into my server that I couldn't here. One of the side areas I haven't gotten to really pinning down is the Hedge Maze. I have a basic outline, but the main obstacle involved requires more dynamic logic. It's hard to settle on what that logic should be without set level design, and it's hard to settle on level design without knowing the limitations of that logic.

It's a similar issue with the main challenge of the game, both for the player and for designing: the ghosts.

What's intimidating is the feeling that they need to be very deliberate in this type of game, to balance between adding tension without veering into frustration. I'm hoping tackling everything surrounding them will make me more confident, but odds are I'll have to start with something simple and half-broken just to break the ice. And accepting I'll have to make something that gets thrown away, which I'm not used to doing... I really prefer thinking through stuff first before making it.

Anyway, thank you for reading.

[calilk]

mermaid boat boys, ft a boat

my gift for @theslyvoid9 for @mcytblrholidayexchange

ramblings, process and doodles under the cut

this was sosososos fun to do. i got the prompt and was immediately SO exited and motivated. however i had a large art piece to finish for school so didn’t manage to start properly for a good few weeks. however i DID do initial doodle ideas and composition plans, mostly during class, that are pictured below

by the time i could start in earnest, i’d lost quite a bit of motivation and was struggling a LOT with the sketch and proper proportions, so i didn’t start properly until a week or so before the deadline. oops, sorry this is so late.

this was my first quick colour draft, i was originally going to do the effect with squiggly lines that light creates under water but every time i tried it it just looked terrible so i didn’t. i also changed the positions of etho and joel.

the sketches. i struggled wayyyy to much. i think i spent like 4 hours trying to get it right. BUT i did in the end!

lineart, flats and detailing. i lost etho’s lil floaty side fins here due to my scatterbran and i mourn for them but not enough to draw another set of fins. the detailing took sooooo long and i don’t really like the boat, but don’t have the motivation nor time to change it. i also imagined some kelp winding around them to make the background more interesting but never got around to it in the end. during the detailing i spent 3 hours drawing on a laptop with the mousepad and it was the worst 3 hours of my life. never again. etho’s fins were inspired by those beta fish with the pretty fins. i love them but they were beyond horrible to draw.

shading and lighting. i played around with the opacity of the light streaming through the water but i can’t attach any more images so whelp. yippeeee it’s done. it took be 23 hours in the end and i’m proud of it!!! my giftee also suggested some cannibalism stuff and i REALLY love that idea but didn’t know how to portray it without being graphic so i didn’t go for it. HOWEVER i really want to do an autocanibalism dl pearl piece in the future so yayyy. theslyvoid if you want me to tag you in that if i do it lmk since it was one of your requests :)

[theidiotwhowrites]

Cold Hearted Aristocrat

Byakuya Togami x Fencer Reader

Equals

(Story is related to this post I made, lol Togami won by a landslide)

Warning;

Rude comments, Classism, Pre Despair Arc, Reader comes from a financially unstable household (broke), Rivals to lovers (slow burn), Reader with a fencing background, Slow start, Fighting (not with fist), Multipart. Kinda petty Reader (Aren't we all tho?)

You have been warned

--------------------------------------------------

Hope's Peak Academy

was the most prestigious private institution were anyone could go to, fortunately, you we're accepted but for you, it was a bittersweet moment.

Everyone praised you you all you could think about was leaving your life behind

Fencing is what you had that didn't let you down and now it would have been thrown aside.

You finally felt like you did something, made your family proud but it didn't feel right.

All those days you've practiced for your upcoming tournament felt like a waste.

Sleep, School, Fencing, Rinse and Repeat It was routine, the thought of breaking from it didn't sit right with you.

It wouldn't for anybody yet. You were supposed to be grateful and not "whine" about it but how could you when what you held dear was getting stripped away you weren't an Ultimate with a mind-blowing talent; Ultimates are what the school called their most gifted and breathtaking students,

(Your fencing skills weren't all that)

Unlike them it didn't change lives, it didn't inspire hope and technically you also weren't a 'Proper Reserve Course' student by definition, being that you didn't pay your way in.

Maybe the school's leader board took pity on you and accepted only because of your academics.

Maybe they have an ulterior motive.

Nobody Knows.

Standing in front of the tall building, blue pillars from behind peak out catching the corner of your eyes.

You walk through the gates but that was 2 months ago..

Now you lie awake in your dorm, boring and plain are the decorations. The only spark it has is what you added which wasn't much since you weren't able too.

The days passing by started turning into mirrored images of the last.

It is better than wondering about what you were going to eat today or if there's any water or something added to the unpredictable chaos of poverty .

You weren't your classes top student.

(mostly given that the one's that were bribed the teachers into giving them better marks)

Or had close friends of any kind from the school.

You simply laid low. Invisible.

Staying in the background, with the spotlight never gracing your face for no longer than a second...

...Till

The speakers called your name. Echoing throughout the empty halls. The stares from the others you didn't see, you felt, buried in the back of your skull.

All eyes were focused on you while you packed your things and said your temporary goodbyes.

Sprinting, you rush towards the headmaster's office. Slowly knocking on the door, opening it with shaky hands.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble" Says the headmaster; Jin Krigri, next to his right sits another man one that's quite unfamiliar,

"Before your arrival, the school did a background check on you as we do with all our students."

He shifts his chair

"And I was informed that you had done extra curricular activities so too make you feel more welcomed and I took it upon myself to give you that chance again".

Endorphins filled with excitement lace through your veins. This was your redemption, a second chance. The thought of it makes you wanna shout for joy. You felt like you were overflowing with bliss and swimming in happiness.

If you signed up, another competition would be in your grasp. To be able to do what was taken from you. Being awarded, adored, standing infront of a stage whilst the crowd cheers for you, holding a medal you earned.

It's almost to much to bare.

Almost.

"Why?" You question. I didnt make sense, there has to have some repercussion. Opportunities like theses don't come without them. There is something that looking lurk beneath such a pretty offer.

A faint smile crosses the stranger's lips as Mr Kirigri speaks up again.

"I did expect that, you, are a smart student after all. In return all I ask is if you continue your fencing journey with a new coach..." He gestures to his right.

"Coach Tsukuda" The man interjects, standing up from his chair before calmly walking over, putting one of his hands in front of him.

Hesitantly, you shake it.

Mr Tsukuda's, hands are rough to the touch, lacking any moisture with it. Bumpy like an unrepaired road, It's an unpleasant feeling against your own but you don't feel the need to decline.

To not be impolite, of course.

"It's is pleasure to meet you" He remarked.

"Ahem" Mr Krigri clears his throat, drawing attention back to him.

"As I was saying, if you choose to make the conscious choice to accept this proposal by joining our fencing club, all ask in return is if you compete in a tournament overseas with your fellow members, you as well as them to talk about the school in a positive light. Too nudge our reputation in the right direction."

He puts heavy emphasis on the word right.

In other words Mr Krigri wants you to make the school look good. It was nothing short of unsurprising. Playing only a pawn in the time consuming game of social climbing.

You agreed to such conditions. Being the schools talking puppet for a moment in time is better than the constant agony of boredom and longing for excitement. Some may disagree but it is a price willing to be payed.

The next day painfully went by.

Seconds turned into minutes.

Minutes turned into hours and at this rate you felt like you were going to rip your hair out by the roots as the hands of time perceived to moved slower and slower and even slower.

The bell rings, ending your torment.

Lazily, you turn the metal handle mounted on the wooden door, walking inside.

Yanking the strap of the duffle bag, destined to be forgotten before today, pulling it over your shoulder, leaving from whence you came.

Hope's peak was undoubtedly beautiful. A perfect muse for photography. However it's only flaw are the stairs, You trance your index finger over the matte black railing. It is such a tedious experience but how else were you going to get there?.

After what felt like forever, you stand before the Gymnatorium.

The temporary room for the fencing club. It calls your name like a siren song.

Spacious

It's the first thing you notice, the room is elegant yet simplistic. Gym equipment neatly placed in the corners of the room.

Everyone talked in there own flock, mingling with their friends. Selectivity amongst others. Everyone except one.

Silently reading on a bench with a scowl on his face. Blonde hair falls to his face as a white gloved hand fixes his hair. For a second they looks up, his eyes connecting with yours.

The door behind you creaked behind you, ripping you from your thoughts. Making you look at the at the source of the sound

Coach Tsukuda stands in front of the door, he signals you to come closer. A sense of unease washes over you.

"You're here" He says, his voice lacks surprise, simply pointing out facts. He pauses to think of his next words.

"How good would you say you were at fencing before now?" Odd.

You shrugged. Doubt clouds your next judgement.

You thought you were good but are you?. Are you actually or were the people you were surrounded with weren't any better?. Questioning your abilities.

"I don't know, good I guess" Was your response. Being humble about your talents. Maybe they were good but I didn't earn you a title. You still weren't an ultimate.

"Why do you ask?" You added. Not really sure where he was going with this.

"I've been thinking. That's our best fencer-" Coach points at the blonde on the bench, who continues to read. Not noticing that he is the object of your conversation.

"He thinks he lacks any competition and truth be told he's not wrong and you haven't show cased your skills to me, go and put on your gear, I'll be back to you in a second"

You oblige. Putting on your gear you notice, it's tight.

You are still able to move somewhat comfortably but it's feels strange. Perhaps it's from the length of time you haven't worn it or you just need a new one. You toss your uniform in your bag.

Out of the changing rooms. You see Mr Tsukuda who stands next to the boy on the bench, signaling you to come towards them. Well he's off of the bench now so you can't call him that anymore. You should ask what his name is.

Standing on the safety mat, it's a peculiar felling under your shoes.

Mr Tsukuda's gestures to you

"This is who you will be fighting against, nothing drastic, best of five hits. "

The coach steps to the side and get step forward, to the boy.

He looks you up and down. Sapphire eyes studying your body. Judging every inch of you.

The tension is thick. To distract from it, you try to introduce yourself.

"Uhhh, Hi my name is-" Try, he cuts you off.

"I know who you are, I have not the energy to entertain this discussion you plan on conjuring with me, commoner. Let's get this over with. You will lose either way."

His tongue is razor sharp, cutting into you, deep. Dripping with distain.

What is his problem? Did he wake up on the wrong side of life or something? He had not only rejected your advances but as well as insulted you in the same breath.

Tough Crowd.

So sure that he's better. It doesn't matter t you who does but now you want to, to win, simply push it in his face. To mess with his sense of arrogance.

You scuff at his remark. Glaring at his monotone expression.

He grabs a what seems random to be a random épeé however it has a interesting design, one you haven't seen before.

Like any sport fencing has rules, mostly with its equipment. Every fencing sword has it own set of rules. Foil, only being able to touch your competitor torso. Saber, allowing to hit your opponent waist up, only. However the Éppé is the easiest to remember, having free range.

Grabbing your éppé, you get in stance. He makes one last swift movement he puts on his mask.

"Start!" The words echo through your ears. With quick pace he lunges towards you. You raise your blade. Swords clashing together, stepping back. Maintaining momentum, dodging his attacks. The tip of the blade touches you chest. "I suggest you give up, to prevent the shame of your inevitable loss."

"Shut up...." You mutter under your breath, he seemed to be getting to you. "En garde!"

The contrast of your outfits becomes more clear. A dry taste fills your mouth. Adrenaline rushes through your brain. Under your gloves, sweat drips from your palms. Your next moves are calculated. You swung, A slash against his waist stops him in his tracks. Gaining you a point.

"Wanna give up?" You taunted, mocking his previous statement.

You can hear his teeth clench under his mask as he made his next attack. You move your blade. Determined. Both blades swing left to right.

Your eyes scan over the room, glassed over. The sleeves feel like they dig into your wrist.

Faces close to each. Weapons stranded against each other. Looking for an opening. A thud rings out, as he lands to the floor. The sound of heart beat fills your ears.

You hit him with one final strike, simultaneously the metal of sword hit your leg with force.

"Take break" Coach says.

He gets up from the floor, brushing the dirt off of him. Dropping it without a care, leaving.

Your hands feel sore to the touch. He comes to a sharp halt. Standing there before he utters. For the first time in his life he has met and equal. A person on the same level as him.

"Byakuya Togami...."

"Excuse me?" You says, taking off your mask.

"Byakuya Togami.....it's my name, considering you asked earlier. However do not think for a moment this means I am willing to fraternize with you."

Oh.... So he's not so cold after all?

... To be continued ...

--------------------------------------------------

Should I continue this?

I can't believe this took me a month, it feels like nobody write about fencing even though it's such an interesting sport and I say this purely off research. Where I live we don't have that so I have no prior experience.

And when people write about fencing in media, it's very overlooked. It's kinda like a place holder for time rather than the main plot point but whatever.

Also shout out to the people who supported me on this long adventure. (You know who you are)

Thank you for reading, it is really appreciated. (◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[rushingheadlong]

Today is the 30th anniversary of Brian’s concert at the Palace Theater in New Haven, CT, USA. And since this is my favorite solo show Brian has ever done, I wanted to finally put together a proper post about the concert and why I love it so much.

First, a bit of background about the tour in general… For about 40% of the shows on the tour, the Brian May Band was not the main act at all. From late February to early July 1993 Brian was touring almost exclusively in support of Guns’n’Roses; they had some shows during this time where they were the headlining band but those were (generally) few and far between. It wasn’t until October 1993 that Brian set out on a tour that was exclusively his, with the Brian May Band as the only headliner and with no other support bands joining them.

It’s also important to remember that nearly everything about solo touring was entirely new to Brian, and while he can look back on it all with fondness now that ‘newness’ did cause legitimate issues during the tour itself. One of the biggest recurring problems was the new wireless system they were using for the Red Special.

(Brian, sans curly lead, at Brixton Academy)

The lack of cable meant that Brian had the freedom to move around that he needed as a frontman, but it also meant that they were dealing with constant signal issues and interference. And by “they” I mean Brian and a temporary guitar tech, because this tour took place after Jobby left but before Pete Malandrone came along.

So, with that out of the way… Why is this my favorite Back to the Light concert?

Well for one thing, it’s the best quality bootleg we have from the tour. Really the only video that’s in better quality is the professionally-filmed Brixton Academy show, and that one was edited for release to remove the explicit ending to Love Token and Brian’s cover of “God (Dream Is Over)”. In fact for the longest time the October New Haven show was pretty much the only source we had for “Dream Is Over” at all because it was never performed when they were touring with GNR.

So even though there weren’t any special one-off songs during the New Haven concert, this is really the only easily-available (i.e. on youtube) bootleg we have that includes the original full setlist and the complete encore. Some sections of video are missing, but they’re generally short moments between songs; very little of Brian’s actual performance is missing, and even better the audio quality is fantastic as well.

That's not to say that it's a perfect bootleg, or even a perfect show for that matter. The technical issues that were endemic to this tour are absolutely present here too, from Jamie’s guitar not coming in on his solo to major tuning problems with Brian's acoustic. But IMO that doesn't detract from things too much at all, because the band is far enough into this whole production that they know how to work around these things. You can see those moments when Brian gets frustrated but it doesn't get the best of him, not like it did in South America:

(Brian frustrated by technical issues in Chile)

By the time October 1993 rolls around the Brian May Band is a well-oiled machine. They know how to brush off the mistakes and cover for the inevitable problems that happen during any live show. And when things are going alright for the band and Brian looks more happy than not during shows, it's sometimes easy I think to forget how very not alright Brian still was on a personal level.

Because this final stint of touring kicked off less than two years after Freddie's death. The therapy that Brian found through Back to the Light wasn't in the making of the album, which was nearly finished before Freddie died, but in the touring specifically. Which means that by the time the band rolls into New Haven, Brian's been working through his grief onstage for less than a year. After knowing Freddie for over 23 years and spending 16 of those almost exclusively performing live with Queen.

Saying that Brian was still "not alright" in October 1993 is actually a massive understatement. The worst of his depression, anxiety, and grief is absolutely still there, but Brian keeps working through it - both literally, as he continues with the tour, and figuratively as he uses that tour as his therapy.

But as anyone who’s been in therapy can tell you, it’s not always linear. So when your therapy is performing with your band and you have a momentary backslide…

Well, you pretty much get this exact concert.

I’ve talked about some of this before, most recently in this post where I talk about Brian’s visible reaction to the audience participation in Love of My Life, but honestly I did that moment a disservice by stripping it out of the context of the rest of the show. Because yes, he’s reacting to the audience there (and I'll talk more about the audience later) but critically Brian has been off his game since the start of the show.

(Brian already looking Over It™ after only a few songs)

If you haven't watched (m)any of the BttL concerts, it can be hard to pick up on a lot of this without the additional context of Brian's behavior during other gigs. Brian has always been the most confident while performing and he's comfortable with this band now, so on first watch it’s easy to see him enjoying himself and think that the few moments of overt discomfort are outliers born out of Brian’s unfamiliarity with being a frontman.

But once you start watching more of his concerts, you realize that Brian only seems so comfortable because he’s avoiding going “off script” in his interactions with the audience whenever possible.

The first time this is really apparent comes at the start of Love Token. The introduction to the song is pretty standard across the tour, but what's missing is Brian talking to the audience before launching into things. He tells them, "You guys are great." but the rest of the typical chatter and comments about not having been to New Haven in a while are turned into part of the Love Token opening monologue.

(New Haven, before Love Token)

In contrast, a week later in Milwaukee, Brian does the happy-to-be-back bits entirely separate from Love Token and he explicitly mentions when he was there before with Queen. He's having a genuine moment with the audience outside of the music, and you can tell from his tone of voice and how he’s talking that he’s not doing this on autopilot.

(Milwaukee, before Love Token)

That's something that seems simple, but it still requires talking off-the-cuff to a theater full of people. And if you're already having a rough night, why put yourself through that if you can simply roll it into part of the song and make it a bit more routine for yourself instead?

Then we get into Love of My Life, and I know I already talked about some of this before but amazingly that moment where Brian physically curls in on himself during the song is not the only tell that this isn’t a good night for him.

Again, we have to take a look at Brian’s interactions with the audience because LoML is one of the parts of the show where he can’t avoid talking to them even if he wanted to. What he specifically says can vary wildly from one night to the next, but there are three main beats he usually tries to hit:

Asking the audience to sing along

Telling them that this song is for Freddie

Acknowledging that he wasn’t the one who originally wrote the song

I say “usually” because Brian doesn’t always mention that 3rd point. Often he just says that this is for Freddie and launches into LoML, without any commentary on the song not being “his”.

Sometimes he does mention it but leaves it a little vague, like in March 1993 in New York when he said, “This is something that I don't usually sing and to be honest I get doubts as to whether I should or not.” And sometimes he laughs it off a bit, like he did in Milwaukee in October 1993 when he said, “And it isn't because I was thinking that I have the right, it's just because I really wanna do it."

Regardless of how it’s said, Brian’s emphasis is still on the song being for Freddie. Any comments he makes about his “right” to perform it are almost always secondary to his assertion that he’s doing this in memory of his friend - but not when he gets to New Haven:

(New Haven, before Love of My Life)

In New Haven, Brian (accidentally) puts the focus on the song’s ownership. His slight hesitance and fumbling over his sentence inadvertently puts the emphasis on his own anxieties and mental state, so when he does mention Freddie his grief seems to come through stronger than it may otherwise have done.

Then Brian starts playing and although we have to acknowledge again that he’s having technical issues here, you can still tell the difference between his background emotional state on this night and his frustrations with his guitar. Because when Brian’s problems are external, he reacts and emotes to them externally - but when his problems are internal, he reacts by turning inwards on himself.

(New Haven, during Love of My Life)

Both of those gifs are from LoML. On the left he’s clearly frustrated by the guitar and/or his playing. He’s making a face, shaking his head, trying to adjust to fix it… He’s not exactly going out of his way to hide that there’s an issue there.

But on the right, when the audience sounds a bit too much like they would have with Freddie and their singing is starting to get to him, Brian’s reaction is to close off. He goes still, his face becomes blank, he turns the mic away from him so it can’t pick up any noises if he starts crying again…

(Yes, again, because I’m not going to swear on my life that that’s what’s happening earlier in the song…. but Brian does wipe something away from his face and sometimes that’s enough to make you wonder…)

(New Haven, Brian wiping his face during Love of My Life)

A few songs later and we arrive at Too Much Love Will Kill You. It’s another moment for Brian to talk to the audience, although he usually doesn’t say anything. At both Milwaukee and Brixton, Spike starts playing and Brian just comes in singing. But in New Haven, Brian feels the need to give the audience a little “warning” before they start…

(New Haven, before Too Much Love Will Kill You)

This is Brian’s anxieties coming through again, plain and simple. There’s no need to tell the audience that this part of the show “terrifies” him. If anything there’s a stronger argument to be made that the better, safer option would have been for Brian to say nothing rather than priming the audience to expect this to be imperfect.

Except the audience has already seen the imperfections. Even if they aren’t picking up on every little tell that Brian is having an off night, at this point they’ve already gotten through LoML. Everyone in that theater has already beared witness to his small come-apart during that song, and you know that Brian is absolutely still thinking about that moment as Spike starts the opening notes of TMLWKY.

Here he is, about to sing another slower and more emotional song, only this time he doesn’t have the familiarity of his guitar to fall back on or to hide behind if something goes wrong again. If he’s remembering LoML then surely the audience must be thinking of it too - and surely they must be waiting for him to fuck up again, so clearly the best thing for Brian to do is to preempt this song so the audience knows that this is difficult even on the best of nights.

That’s obviously all speculation but, as someone with an anxiety disorder myself, sometimes it just makes you want to apologize for everything. Whether you’ve actually done something wrong is irrelevant, because the anxiety will always find ways to make it feel like you’re “failing” in some way.

Brian can’t outright apologize to his audience. He’s stuck in his frontman role with a certain script to follow and he can’t break kayfabe to say “Sorry” without ruining the entire atmosphere of the show. What he can do is to admit to the things they should already know - in this case, that being onstage without his guitar is unusual and uncomfortable for him - and let them infer the rest.

He does nearly the same thing again when he talks to the audience at the start of the encore. He always thanks them for coming out to the show, but it feels a little more heartfelt at New Haven.

This part is impossible to gif but the first thing Brian says is, “Let me tell you, this is no bullshit, you guys are amazing. Because there's not that many of us here tonight and I appreciate you guys turning out and making that kind of noise.”

And I promise I’ll get more into the audience in a bit, but the fact that this wasn’t a well-attended show is SO important here as is Brian’s acknowledgment of that. This is really his last chance to say anything to the audience and he decides to specifically thank them for being loud enough to make up for the lack of attendance.

If that doesn’t say something about where his anxieties may have been focused - and what moments from the show struck a genuine chord with him - then I don’t know what does.

After that, Brian only has one more thing to say before he starts introducing “Dream Is Over”...

(New Haven, before the encore)

This is as close as Brian can get to saying, “I’m sorry but I’m doing my best.” He’s saying that he’s giving the audience everything he can and it sounds like an apology anyway. And then he has to steal himself to start the intro to the song, which he always has to do, but it hits a little harder when it’s preceded by that and not by something more like this:

(Milwaukee, before the encore)

And if you’ve made it through this nightmarishly long dissertation about every reason this show is heartbreaking and all the ways you can tell that Brian is having a rough go of it, you’re probably wondering “Rushing what the fuck is wrong with you that THIS is your favorite???”

Which, valid. But it’s my favorite because I think it’s both incredibly important and, honestly, very humbling to see Brian like this.

This isn’t the Tribute Concert, where everything is still so raw and performing hurts as much as doing nothing at all. This isn’t 1992 in South America where Brian can channel his grief into his frustration and push it out on the techs every time something goes wrong. This isn’t an opening show for GNR, where Brian’s time is more limited and even if he gets emotional he’s (probably) not the reason everyone in the theater is there.

This is Brian, not quite two years on from Freddie’s death, still mourning and still extremely depressed and anxious. And this is what it looks like when Brian has to push through that and put on a show anyway. The ways in which he both pulls away from the audience and tries to open up to them give insights not just into the state of Brian’s mental health at the time, but how that affected everything else about him from the way he carried himself to his mannerisms to how he followed the script of his own concert.

The October New Haven concert is a stark reminder of the depths of Brian’s depression and just how much time it takes a person to claw their way out of that.

And the other reason I love this concert is that you absolutely can also see the progress that Brian has already made.

Because despite the 2,500 words dissecting all the ways in which Brian was not fine during this show, there are still plenty of moments where it’s abundantly clear that he was enjoying being able to perform his music with this band.

(New Haven, Brian looking happy)

He’s visibly delighted every time he realizes that Jamie has shimmied over to join him without him realizing. He keeps looking over to everyone on his right and grinning. Whenever he really nails a difficult guitar line you can almost see the confidence boost that it gives him.

Yes, Brian is depressed and struggling but when he’s onstage he’s still Brian fucking May. He’s in his element and he is nailing it, despite the technical hiccups and emotional moments and everything in-between.

I love this concert because you see the depths of who Brian is as a person: his musicianship and how he uses that as a crutch to keep himself moving forward, the love he has for both the friends he’s performing with and those who are gone, his fears and anxieties and moments of deep self-doubt, the guitar legend he grew up to be and the incredible frontman he didn’t realize he could be, and the tired person simply trying to find himself anew after 20 years spent as someone he can’t return to anymore.

And there’s one final, very important reason that I love this show so much: the audience. (I promised we’d talk about them eventually, didn’t I?)

Brian has always been someone who thrives on the atmosphere of a live show and by god was New Haven determined to give him everything they could. They were loud, they were enthusiastic, and you can see Brian responding to that.

(New Haven, Brian looking happy because of the audience)

Brian pulls himself back together after the audience starts cheering for him during LoML. During band introductions they applaud for him long enough that it bleeds into the next song, and despite himself Brian smiles at it. And every time they recognize a Queen song you can see Brian responding to something familiar to him again.

Do you know how hard it was to get even these three gifs? Not because finding the moments was difficult, but because this audience is enjoying themselves so much that their arms are blocking the view more often than not.

Look, I am stupidly biased about this show because I’m a CT native - not from New Haven, but this is still a “home” show for me. Brian walks out wearing that tank top and I get why he wore hometown shirts for the encores even though I fucking hate Yale. This show could have been the most run-of-the-mill, routine concert imaginable and I would still find some way to write 3,000 words waxing poetic about it.

But this wasn’t a routine concert - or maybe a better way to put it would be, this was an incredibly routine concert made remarkable because of far Brian’s mask has slipped and what that inadvertently reveals to us. It’s incredible because the quality of the bootleg means we can actually see the little details of expression that otherwise are often lost.

The October New Haven concert is my favorite from Brian’s first solo tour because it proves the entire point he was making with the album. It’s a performance that shows us that Brian was finding his way Back to the Light - and that even when he was still in the dark, he was “still the same old [him] inside” despite everything that changed.

[late-to-the-party-81]

The Look - Chapter One

AN: Welcome all to my first entry for Hot Bucky Summer. I’m picking up where I left of last year, with a return to Bucky and Joaquín from You bring me closer to God @kingofsorrow20 jumped at the chance to beta this, so gets all my thanks.

Buckyquín sluts - Assemble!

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Master list | HBS Master list

Summary: Now that Bucky and Joaquín are proper boyfriends and not secret FWB, they don’t have to sneak around and have sex in out of the way, but semi-public spaces. However, when Joaquín voices that he misses that aspect and comes up with a solution, Bucky finds that he can’t keep his hands off his baby, just thinking about it.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Joaquín Torres

Word Count: 2k

CW: Mean Dom Bucky Barnes, Sweet Sub Joaquín Torres, Domesticity, Developing relationship, Discussions of exhibitionism, exploring fantasies, Bucky’s dirty talk, Joaquín’s oral fixation, hand job, cum eating, cum as lube, spit as lube, masturbation, facials, dacryphilia, Bucky obsessed with how pretty Joaquín is, dirty pictures, aftercare

Bingos and Challenges: HBS - Week 1 - “Louder, let everyone hear you”/ Screaming or Noisy sex/ Gangbang/ Exhibitionism.

Every so often it really hit Bucky about how much things had changed since he and Joaquín had actually started communicating. Take the present situation, for instance. They were in his Brooklyn apartment, having gotten home from a mission just as the rest of the world was starting its day. After the debrief at the compound, they could have gone to their shared quarters onsite to recover, but together had decided it was worth staying awake a little longer to have the relative privacy later. Admittedly, Quín had dozed - complete with drool - while Bucky had driven, but once they’d gotten to his apartment they’d collapsed into bed and slept for seven hours. They both woke up mid afternoon and, still feeling exhausted, settled down with takeout on the sofa, while RuPaul’s Drag Race played in the background. The show in question was Quín’s guilty pleasure and Bucky found it cute whenever his boyfriend started shouting at the TV. Three months ago, such a scenario wouldn’t have even been on Bucky’s radar as something he might want, but now he’d realised all of the ‘boyfriend stuff’ he’d been missing out on, he couldn’t wait to catch up with it. 

Speaking of cute, despite the fact that Quín had moved in a stash of his belongings, - the look on his face when Bucky had cleared a drawer for him was priceless - he was still cosied up in a pair of Bucky’s sweatpants and one of his large hoodies. And although Quín wasn’t skinny - far from it - when the young army lieutenant put on his clothes it high-lighted just how much broader - thicker - Bucky was. Looking at him, Bucky couldn’t help but lick his lips.

The thing that had really surprised him though, was how much better the sex had gotten. Before ‘the talk’ they’d only ever fucked like animals - rough and dirty - and while they did still do that - boy, did they do that - they now also made love. There was something about teasing Joaquín softly - slowly -, until he cried those pretty tears, that turned Bucky even more feral. And Quín, the beautiful boy he was, would cry out about how much he loved Bucky, never once getting frustrated that Bucky hadn’t yet said it back.

On that note, Bucky knew that he cared deeply for Quín - had done for a while, even before he could admit it to himself - but those three words? He wanted to say them, he really did, but he also wanted to be sure he actually meant them and it wasn’t just lip service. There were days however, when Sam would catch him watching his boyfriend and roll his eyes and tell him to stop making goo-goo eyes at his protege in public. Moments like that made Bucky smile, and he was smiling a lot more these days. 

“Bucky?” Quín’s soft voice, complete with a note of worry? - concern? - embarrassment? - pulled him from his reverie. 

Bucky shuffled across the sofa and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, drawing him close with a kiss to the top of his head. “What is it, baby? Got something on your mind?”

Quín squirmed a little and picked at some fluff stuck to his thigh. Bucky waited, giving him the time and space to voice whatever it was that seemed to have him a little twisted up. “You know how before,” he eventually started, “we were always… you know…”

”Fucking?” Bucky supplied, with an arched brow and a quirk to his lips.

”Yeah,” Joaquín confirmed, with his own small smile. “How we were always fucking in not so private spaces?”

The memories of trysts in store cupboards and dark corners of the quinjet jumped to the forefront of Bucky’s mind and made his dick twitch in his pants.

”Well, I was thinking that that wasn’t necessarily something we had to stop, just because we aren’t having to keep it secret any more.” Quín looked at Bucky with a sideways glance, obviously trying to check his reaction.

”You wanna go back to sucking my dick in janitors closets?” Bucky tried desperately to bury his amusement - this was obviously something that Quín wanted to discuss, and he owed it to him to take it seriously.

”No, not that,” came the tentative reply. “I was kinda thinking about… in front of other people. In a place where that sort of thing is acceptable. Like a kink club.”

”Oh,”said Bucky, glitching slightly as he tried to process his boyfriend’s request. “You want to be put on display in front of other people and let them see you?”

Quín bit down on his lower lip, stifling a moan, and a grin broke out across Bucky’s face. “Oh, sweetheart, my little exhibitionist slut, you want it so bad don’t you?” He dropped his head and nosed along Quín’s throat, feeling the fluttering of his heartbeat. In an instant, he turned his lover and pressed him back onto the sofa, looming over him. A pathetic, needy whimper left Quín’s lips.

”Would you want them to see how sweetly submissive you are? Let them see how you’ll do anything I tell you? Imagine me making you kneel, and spanking that perfect peach of an ass until it was throbbing in time with your cock? You’d have to count for me, and be loud. I’d want everyone to hear you, so they’d know exactly who was in charge of you. I wonder what else I could do to you?”

“Anything,” Joaquín whispered breathily as he rolled his hips under Bucky’s larger frame, getting lost in the fantasy. “I’d let you do anything.”

Bucky slid his right hand down between them, cupping the bulge in Quín’s - his - sweatpants and his slutty baby gasped at the harsher than necessary pressure. “You’re being very needy, sweetheart. What if I left you like this, all wanting, until I got round to arranging it? It could be next week - it could be a month.” Quín’s eyes fluttered closed and his hips rolled again, likely unconsciously this time. “You’d do it though, if I told you to, wouldn’t you?” Bucky continued. “You’d hate it, not coming, not having my touch, but you’d do it all the same. To be a good boy.”

“Yesss.”

Bucky let go of Quín’s crotch and trailed his hand up his boyfriend’s toned body, sliding it under the hoodie and tee shirt underneath, to tweak at his left nipple. With a gasp, Quín’s eyes shot open again, his body acting as though it had been shocked with electricity. Bucky pinched him again. Harder. Crueller. He could see Joaquín’s eyes start to water, but he didn’t safeword. His baby loved this type of treatment. With the thumb of his left hand, Bucky swiped at an errant tear that had broken free and started to trail down quín’s cheek.

“You gonna cry those pretty tears for me? Pretty tears on a pretty boy?”

The question was entirely rhetorical. Bucky didn’t even give Quín the chance to respond as his left hand then slid further down his sub’s face, and Quín’s lips immediately parted to accept two of Bucky’s fingers into his mouth. His boy immediately began to suck on the metallic digits and Bucky returned his right hand to Quín’s crotch, this time moving it under the sweats and underpants to circle his stiff cock. Joaquín let out a garbled moan and his hips thrust upwards.

“Greedy baby,” Bucky cooed, voice full of condescension. “Fucking my hand and sucking my fingers. How naughty. If you’re like this with just me touching you, imagine if I let other people play with you. How many do you think you could manage? How many loads of cum? Splattering these pretty lips, all over your tits.” He smirked as Quín whined at his words “I don’t think I’d let them have your ass though,” he mused. “That’s all mine.” Quín nodded in agreement around the fingers in his mouth.

Bucky continued his onslaught, his right hand jerking Quín’s cock methodically with a little twist to his wrist that he knew made the younger man see fireworks, and his left hand sawing between Quín’s dusky, puffy lips, pressing down on his tongue and testing his almost non-existent gag reflex. He felt pride well inside him at just how good his boy was being - taking everything he dished out. However, he was also only human, and Bucky knew all his lover’s buttons and how to push them. It wasn’t long before his body started to twitch, pleasure obviously threatening to overwhelm him.

“Open your eyes”, Bucky commanded and the sight of Joaquín’s dark lashes, clumped together with tears, along with the unfocused nature of his gaze almost undid him. “You wanna come, sweetheart?”

Quín let out a loud whine, which Bucky took as a yes. “Such a good boy, waiting for permission. And if I said no, could you hold off?” He knew he was being cruel as his hand continued to move, because he was making Quín wait, just not obviously. Another garbled whine and an accompanying nod, let Bucky know he had his boyfriend just where he wanted him.

“Such a good boy,” he purred. “You can come then. Show me how pretty you are.” He pulled his fingers from Quín’s mouth just so those wonderful noises wouldn’t be muffled. He hadn’t lied before - he loved it when Quín was loud in his pleasure, and he didn’t disappoint. As he came he shouted and garbled in both Spanish and English, his abs tensing and cock spurting out thick white ropes over the sweatpants that Bucky had only pulled down enough to give him access, as well as Bucky’s fingers.

Bucky looked down at his boyfriend - cheeks flushed, brow sweaty, looking totally fucked out - and he sucked his fingers, enjoying the salty, musky taste. His own cock twitched in his pants, refusing to be ignored any longer. He changed his position from kneeling between Quín’s legs to straddling his waist, and pulled his dick from his own sweats. “Just lay there for me, baby,” he commanded and Quín smiled lazily back at him.” Bucky began to strip his cock, his hand flying up and down its length, eased by the mess of saliva and cum still covering his fingers.

“God! Such a beautiful, submissive slut, and you’re all mine, aren’t you? Can’t wait to show you off. Let everyone else see what they’re missing out on.” He could feel his orgasm building in his gut, his balls twitching and drawing closer to his body. “Open your mouth for me, sweetheart. Stick that tongue all the way out.” Once again, Quín obeyed him, and with a loud groan, Bucky let his orgasm flow through him and he pumped his cum into Quín’s waiting mouth and over his lips. “Hold it, baby. Don’t swallow yet.” He dug into his pocket with his left hand, clumsily opening the camera and aiming it to take in Quín’s completely fucked out state with his eyes closed in a state of bliss and face painted with Bucky’s spend. With the moment immortalised, he let Quín know he could swallow it all down, and felt another jolt of lust when his boyfriend's tongue came back out to reach the cum that had missed his mouth. He couldn’t help but swipe at the remaining globs with his thumb and press it between Quín’s lips, making sure he got all of it

“How are you so perfect?” Bucky questioned, voice full of wonder, as he clambered off the sofa and scooped Joaquín up in his arms. “Now, let’s go have a bath and get you cleaned up, and then in a bit we can talk properly about this club idea of yours.”

Chapter 2

Tag list: @christywrites, @doasyoudesireandlive, @endlesstwanted

[starsoftheeye]

TMagP 17 Reaction

Pre-Episode

I've discovered that acting disinterested literally makes the episodes show up earlier on my youtube account, so I've gotta play mindgames on this app every thursday to get to see the episodes less than half an hour after they release lol

Pre-Statement

Ah Celia is back on her bullshit

Wait did she just nearly get ran over???

I feel bad for laughing at her but her only reaction being "Oh for gods sake" is super funny to me how long has she been doing this

oh hi sam

oh god she missed their date :[

something tells me a habit is going to be made of this, especially considering she literally cannot help it

"it really wasn't" yeah no wonder you nearly became roadkill

theyre so cute i love them

ooh shes mad

Statement

"catalyst" huh, have we heard that before or is this the first time

pfft not the interviewer getting read to shreds

wild theory before i keep going, based on the title "saved copy" and the "identity crisis", "existential horror", "temporal distortion" and "captivity" tags, im going to assume that this person going to therapys having the details of their life copied somewhere for something to replicate and replace them, and the doctors gonna attempt to get rid of them but obviously it didnt work. either that or the guy outside the office does something

as someone whos never done meditation before this is not encouraging me to start

ah office spaces, the worst of cosmic horror

wait did they get teleported or something

tbf if my taxi driver started driving completely the wrong way i'd assume the worst and start "exchanging words" too

oh my god was i right

wait is this copy based on their therapy, a version of themselves with no problems whatsoever? and is this gonna be a "there can only be one" type scenario?

oh wait no i forgot siblings exist

wait nvm them having the same name is weird

"dates and times" so this is where the temporal distortion comes in ig

yup

i'm sticking with the "rich-darrien is a copy trying to assimilate into og-darriens life" theory for now

yeah because thats not normal darrien, even if youre related no-one looks completely identical apart from glasses, teeth colour and a lack of a beer-gut

do they both think the other is the copy, or does sharron just not know?

oh god what is he hiding

does he beat up a real person every time hes upset

of course it was his father that makes sense

oh my god the sound design

oh my god he's the one who assimilated thats so cool

good for sharron i hope shes doing okay

off-topic but i love the way the voices get more real as the statement goes on then go back to their more robotic tone at the end

Post-Statement

as a celia fan i am eating well this week jeez

celia my dear what do you mean by that "not exactly the same though, it is?" girlie what have you done what are you hidinggg

alice!

who was playing the music in the background there?

as someones whos computing department in school consists of keyboard with never-before-discovered types of bacteria wedged between the keys thats valid

alice dyer i love you so much

ah the dyhard is dyharding

ah yes the mutual "i'm traumatised and i know you are too but i don't like you enough to give details on mine or ask about yours so we'll just sit and suffer in silence til the ice somehow breaks" dynamic

also colin mention woohoo i love the scottish man

the computer start up noise and power down noise at the beginning and end of every episode kind of makes me think that someone is watching all of this (maybe us, or more likely someone in-universe)

anyway that was fun, i'm doing this late but this was a nice way to spend my first proper off-day since finishing all my exams

[someoneintheshadow456]

I said before, now that Cait Corrain’s true self has come out, I can finally elaborate on what happened with her. To put a long story short, I was one of her very first victims - long before she became an original fiction author and back when she was known as Enterprisingly on AO3 - the author of Play to Win.

I know that #reviewbombgate was back in December, but at the time, I did not know about it because I’m not involved in BookTok. However, I WAS involved with the Reylo fandom, albeit indirectly.

The final chapters of Play to Win went on a tangent that seemed bizarre to me at the time. In fact, it seemed so strange that I brushed it off almost completely. It was only when I found Play to Win’s Wayback Machine page after recalling memories of the Reylo fandom last year when I read the chapter properly (instead of skipping ahead to get to the Reylo scenes). And a proper reading made me realize what was so unnerving about it:

Anyone who has engaged with my blog (especially from 2015-2019, when I used to post a lot more content about my personal life) can see the strangely... specific way this character was described. In order to go into this level of depth, one has to have been following me intently and keeping tabs of all the personal things I posted.

And then, she goes from eerily specific descriptions, to straight up maliciously lying about me:

Keep in mind, this screed takes up an ENTIRE chapter in itself. Said character, Ejya Fjord, is a background NPC who is mentioned a total of 121 times in a 161,000 word story. In fact, her name is mentioned so little that you could be forgiven for not remembering her at all:

You'd think, if someone would do something like this, I had to have done something terrible to her, or even just gave her a negative review. But I never did.

As you can see here, I have only engaged positively with her. Since Play to Win was also taken down and you can’t see old comments on Wayback Machine. Unfortunately after this, I can only give my word without receipts.

Play to Win was published first in 2018. I reviewed her story in March of 2018, possibly even earlier. In my review, I praised the writing, worldbuilding, and dialogues, but gave a small constructive criticism in that the politics could be better integrated into the story without feeling disjointed.

In the very early chapters, Ejya was clearly intended to be 100% Swedish - as one can tell from the name. However, at some point in the later half of the story, she retroactively became mixed race and a rival for Ben's affections, while Ben seems to be having none of it. It's clear these choices were made to portray me as some kind of horny fangirl for Kylo Ren who will stomp on other girls for his sake:

When I read the last chapter first, I was horrified. But now I'm just... bemused that someone would ever see me as some kind of calculating vixen who dresses like a Euphoria high school student and only likes masculine hobbies to pick up dudes. When in reality it took me until 2020 to be able to type the word "sex" without having heart attack and have never so much as posted a selfie on here.

It's also funny that Ejya is petite and flat chested while my actual body type is the exact opposite... which she would know since she stalked my blog so thoroughly. Almost as though she's implying something about her own insecurities...

Initially, I was under the impression that Corrain targeted me because of my association with @ainomica - due to her ruffling the Reylo fandom’s feathers (and ending up on Corrain’s hit list) over her opinions on John Boyega. However, that controversy happened in 2020. When Corrain wrote this libel about me, @ainomica wasn’t even on her radar, not to mention it was a year before we had ever even met. This libel was done to target me, and me exclusively.

In essence - Corrain weaved libel about me into her story because my existence pissed her off. We know now that Corrain had a penchant for targeting sapphic authors and WOC almost exclusively. So it's safe to say she was just being a typical white saviour liberal who shows what she actually thinks of minorities when they don't toe the line.

While this does make her less unhinged in my eyes than using me to target someone else, it still means that Corrain was, and always has been capable of aggression towards anyone she’s remotely offended by. Especially if said person happens to be a minority of some kind.

[slushiecookie]

I can't stop thinking about him so I had to make another post here with him ^^'

So yes, THE MAN! And I haven't given him a proper introduction yet! :'D and while I'd prefer to introduce him with his ref sheet, it looks pretty bad so I just...I'll be remaking it later lol

At 38 years old, Father Novel is passionate, stubborn, cautious, and pretends to not to hear any insults. But if you manage to break him he’ll probably have a massive mood swing before instantly regretting it and wanting to die.

No matter what, his faith never waivers, even though it doesn't usually help. Father Novel is also a bit superstitious as well, and he almost always carries salt with him wherever he goes.

Father Novel really loves to read and write, and he likes to keep a little diary around. He also just likes libraries which is kinda weird since he's a book but he can do what he wants I don't mind lmao

Gore and Religious imagery warning!

Now, as for the gore art, this is a sketch done with the digital pen so please ignore the weird looking lines and really really bad background :'> this is his 2nd exorcism, and it didn't go well, he gets his eye gouged out and almost dies, but Bishop Sorrel takes him to the hospital and saves him!

After getting disfigured (and partially blinded) he gets really self conscious and scared and he doesn't wanna do anything anymore. But Bishop Sorrel, with his nonexistent subtlety, basically tells Father Novel that he now owes him for saving his life. To help with the really ugly scars, Bishop Sorrel gifts him a bookmark to cover his eye with, and it helps...kinda...not really lmao

So, Father Novel has to face his fears and continue being an exorcist to pay back Bishop Sorrel for the hospital bill as well as general expenses, and exorcising demons is a good way to take your mind off of your looks because you're fearing for your life instead 😌

[skzoologist]

Okay so similarly to that ask you got, the chan comfort one, what about some miho, like you said they dont seek eachother out, but they can often be seen together (I think thats what you wrote..?)

So what about some Minho/Bae moments, comfort either way would work! (Minho being comforted by or comforting Bae, don't matter to me! 😌)

word count: ~1.1k

warnings: none

genre: fluff, comfort

a/n: Hey-ho anon dear, you're right, these two are like sassy cats, you'll see what I mean haha. None of them are the 'let us talk about this problem' kinda person, which doesn't really help with the whole situation 😅 Either way, they still find ways to rely on the other, so I hope you'll enjoy this!

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It was a regular day for the worldwide known idol group, every member busy with their individual schedules, their day fully packed with different interviews, practices and photoshoots. Bae was no different, having just set foot back in the company building, his previous appointment having required him to go to a different location to be used as a background for his photoshoot. The shooting had a more natural, gentle theme, all the clothes Bae had worn woven with pastel coloured silk and cotton, wonderfully complementing his long hair, the dark strands left freely flowing in the soft breeze.

Through busy hallways he went, slipping free from a packed elevator efficiently, having mastered the art long ago, despite his ridiculous height.

The moment he had stepped foot into the practice room he knew something was amiss, the air shifting around differently, compared to its usual, cheery self.

Two pairs of eyes met with each other, one searching the other carefully, not wishing to accidentally set off a landmine and cause irreversible destruction. Yet, the taller dancer had no time to fully worry about that, his hyung looking away much too fast, not even slowly blinking at him in his usual, silent greeting.

That was the first red flag Bae had noticed, something that settled heavily in his stomach.

The younger took his bag and hoodie off, already fully changed into some loose clothing he could freely dance in long before having arrived at the company. Although, he had to say, even after so many years, he still couldn’t get used to changing in the car hastily, usually not having enough time in his tightly packed schedule to do so in a proper locker room or even a restroom.

Minho silently waited for the otter to be done, eyes watching him through the mirror like a hawk, something sharp in the older’s gaze that usually didn’t reside there. It caused a slight crease to nestle itself into Bae’s forehead, its presence uncomfortable.

Still, Bae pushed through the feeling, opting to instead keep a watchful eye on the older as they started practising an older choreography of theirs.

As the day went by, so did Minho’s patience thin, the man clearly frustrated over something, bottling the emotion up and letting it simmer inside, only to inevitably blow up in everyone’s faces like a devastating bomb.

Bae wasn’t blind, he had noticed the little signs. How his hyung’s moves were more forceful than usual, how his lips dipped down just a tad bit further into a barely noticeable scowl, or how he kept carding a hand through his hair, the strands on the verge of falling out from the repetitive, forceful motion. The younger noticed these easily, having carved everyone’s habits into his very soul. 

The two idols were similar when it came to things like this, never seeking help on their own. Which was also the exact reason Bae knew, he knew Minho wouldn’t just open up to him or to anyone, the man too stubborn for his own good.

A reason that created an interesting dynamic between the dancers, as if they were two temperamental cats, only going to the other on their own terms, allowing the other to catch little glimpses of vulnerability only occasionally. It was a never ending cat and mouse game, only, sitting down and never chasing that mouse being the sole winning condition of this infuriating game.

And so, Bae waited patiently, staying by his huffing hyung’s side silently, even as the man’s aura screamed pure violence and murder, scaring everyone else away and rightfully so. Nobody doubted that Minho could end someone’s life with a single spoon alone, one he was eating his beloved pudding with.

Time crept by as the two just sat there on the sofa, a space left between them that would be considered much too wide on any other day. A stupid little show was put on the TV, a mere background noise no doubt, since none gazed at the device securely mounted on the wall. Instead, they were both scrolling on their phones, a rare occasion for the artist, the man quickly using it to check as many fanarts as he could, all created by their beloved STAY.

Shuffling of clothes could be heard, the little ‘thunk’ following it as the now empty plastic container was placed onto the table, its delicious contents already eaten long ago.

A soft touch reached Bae’s hand, a limb he had purposefully left resting on the pillows closer to his hyung, not fully tucked into his side.

By the time he had locked and put away his phone -not like he had been actually paying attention to it the last 5 minutes-, another hand had snaked itself into his, a head heavily falling onto his lap. That same, clutched hand of his was led to a nest of fluffy hair, no request needed to be gently buried there, drawing little symbols into the skin.

Bae could feel the tension leaving Minho’s body, those hunched shoulders sagging, taut muscles resting at last. A barely audible sigh could be heard, but the younger knew better than to comment on it, letting it silently disappear in the peaceful silence enveloping the two.

With every stroke and every gentle scratch the other melted more and more into him, practically turning into putty in his hands. Not a single word was exchanged, the serene atmosphere never broken, only enhanced by the quiet, satisfied hums that occasionally left the older’s mouth.

The moon was high up in the sky by the time Bae had finally fallen asleep, Minho curled up by his side, head still comfortably laying on his dongsaeng’s thigh. When Chan had noticed this scene, having come back from another long session of songwriting, a smile so soft sat onto his face that it seemed unreal. He gazed at his dear members, his family, for a few more minutes before grabbing a blanket from his room, covering the two as much as he could. The cat stirred, making the wolf still in his place, earning a relieved sigh once he had settled back and started softly snoring once again.

Even the strong needed some time to recuperate, to rest and gather their strength, and Bae felt honoured to grant that for his beloved, cat-like hyung, the one who always cared for him quietly. He would always be by his side, to provide some silent support, no matter what.