#i like to remember him like this <3 magnetic and mysterious

[lunargarden-art]

"you'll slay the ladies with your smile!" *proceeds to smile

[bubblegyu00]

ZB1 LEGAL LINE AS FRAT BOYS

a/n : i lost the ask 💔

tw : mentions of drinking, drugs, sex (?), suggestive content, cussing, nsfw

mdni !!

• jiwoong

- the biggest asshole out of them i don't care fight me 💔

- will obsses over you at basically stalker level until you sleep with him cus he's delusional

- but the minute he gets you in bed he'll act like he doesn't even know your name — or he genuinely forgets a day later

- he probably doesn't remember half of the times he's ever fucked anyone cus it's not a big deal to him he was just horny

- has multiple girls thinking " guys i slept with jiwoong last night i think we might get together!! " but he's doesn't even remember what you look like 🙁

• hanbin

- a literal girl magnet

- like he could just sit there drinking and he'd get like three girls numbers in the span of an hour

- has a girlfriend for everyday of the week ( @lunicho is friday 😛 )

- he just has this certain charm to him that all the girls want a piece of him

- he's not as outgoing as the others, but he gets a good fraction of the girls

• zhanghao

- born to be valedictorian forced ( by ricky ) to be a man whore 🙁🙁

- no but frl i don't think he knows how insanely attractive and alluring he is — which is hard cus he lit has one girl on his lap, one girl under each arm, and like six other girls in the room wanting to talk to him ??

- but zhanghao is also rlly wanted because he is a man of mystery

- once you get into his pants ( which is a rlly hard thing to do — you go girl ) he's never speaking to you again

- like the minute he cums, he won't even look at you. like he'll literally go make a sandwich or something ??

- but out of all the ( 7 ) girls he's slept with, they say he's they best they've ever had. so now EVERYONE needs to experience zhanghao

• matthew

- DONT FALL FOR HIS TRICKS ‼️‼️‼️‼️

- has fucked the most girls.

- he likes to trick people with his sweet and caring demeanor, but really just wants his dick sucked 😛

- i feel like he'd be the only one to actually take you out on a date before he fucks you and then ghosts you 🥰 ( my standards are low..... )

- he's the most heartbreaking one cus he actually seems like such boyfriend materiel before he leaves you on read until he wants head again 💔

- but the girls always come back because he's literally in watch mojo for top 3 pussy eaters in the world

• taerae

- HE DOESNT GHOST YOU AFTER YOU FUCK 🎉🎉🎉🎉

- oh but he does fuck like twenty other girls while he's " dating " you

- he dates bunches of girls at the same time and they're all aware, but at least they're one of kim taerae's girlfriends ⁉️

- will take you on really good, perfect dates, but he's doing it to nineteen other people so it's not special 💔

- basically rotates girlfriends every two months, so that's sixty girls he's dating per year... you go rae 🥰

- his schedule is honestly so serious for him so the minute the two month mark hits you're cut off.

- but he's a good guy besides all that 🤗

• ricky

- is basically the leader of the fraternity like idk 🗣️🗣️

- the longest he's gone without taking a girl home is like.... three days ( i was last tuesday 🥰 )

- has fucked like every girl on campus like it's not even an exaggeration at this point

- kind of an asshole but it's okay i love when they're hot and toxic 🥰 ( can you tell i have relationship trauma )

- SUCH AN ASSHOLE WAIT CUS NOW IM THINKING..... he'd like flex his rolex while taking a picture on his family owned yacht that his rich ceo mom bought for him while wearing gucci....

- he's honestly such a smooth talker?? like he could def get you to sleep with him in under ten minutes of speaking, that's how good he is

- professional frat boy 😛

• gyuvin

- he's actually insane

- like he's going around snorting cocaine from girls' tits kind of insane

- he's the person everyone is chanting " CHUG! " for like ??

- LIFE OF THE PARTYYY

- if you show him any signs that you want to fuck he'll pull you into the nearest closet cus he'll buss it down anywhere

- NO BUT THE THING IS, HES SUCH A GOOD STUDENT NO ONE EVEN TRIES TO REPORT HIM FOR DOING DRUGS CUS THE TEACHERS WONT BELIEVE IT

- he's honestly the nicest cus he's actually such a fun guy to have around

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Three

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here

a/n: this one is a little longer than the previous two, and it isn’t the best either BUT now that we say goodbye to the fourth year with this one, the ones coming up are going to be more eventful i swear

word count: 4925

tw: might be some curse words but i’m not sure. not proofread.

summary: end of the school year, a friendgroup forms and we meet my other oc, kiara<3, more hermione beef

<previous chapter next chapter>

dividers by @chachachannah

'You've had a panic attack,' this sentence is ringing in my ears endlessly.

"W-what?" I look at Mattheo with wide eyes; he's still looking at me with an expressionless, almost angry face. "How do you know?"

"I just know," he starts to shut down again, barking back at me.

I don't say a word. I just don't know why he got so defensive again. I don't think I've said anything wrong, have I?

His face looks like he's just died inside, stoic but he does it so firmly; keeping the truth from me so dedicated that I don't even dare to ask if I've said something wrong because I'm afraid I'd mess it up even more. He's interesting, like, really. Like a case, a mystery that just calls for my name to solve it with some sort of magnetic power pulling me closer.

"I don't quite remember what happened before I was sitting here with you," I say.

"Was coming back from Hogsmeade. Theo upset me with his shit so I left before him and Enzo. Then, I saw you all upset and pale. I don't know, you seemed like you were about to pass out and I figured it must've been something to do with Hermione or some new drama. Then you really were about to pass out," he explains but I'm still curious how he knew it was a panic attack. "But now that you're alright," he stands up from the bench, not giving me a chance to ask how he knew it was a panic attack, "we should get back inside. It's cold out here."

I just nod my head and walk inside with him but our ways part as we get to the Grand Staircase. I turn to him to thank him once again for how he helped me but I don't see him anymore. I don't think much of it, just make my way up to the Gryffindor Tower. I hesitate about going in but after taking a big breath, I tell Sir Cadogan the password (after going through his ritual of talking very, very old-fashioned, having to roleplay with him) and he lets me enter.

I don't go straight to my dorm because I spot the twins and make my way to them, walking by Harry and Ron, and Hermione's furious glare.

I stop in front of Fred and George; we haven't spoken in days, since I've scolded them for pranking Mattheo but since they are my friends, we should be able to fix this and get over our conflict, shouldn't we?

"Can we talk?" I look at the both of them and they only nod after sharing a look, to which I start without hesitation. "You two are my best friends, the first friends I've made at Hogwarts and I have no intention of losing you over something stupid like me standing up for someone else. And I want you to know I'm still me and I didn't get brainwashed or something stupid others say about me behind my back."

They look at each other and then at me.

"Great because we need you to help with this new thing we're working on," Fred smirks to which I smile, relieved. He has his own ways of accepting apologies and apologizing himself.

I sit down next to George and he smiles at me with a little nod — he has his own ways, too.

The next few days my mood seems to be lifted when in the common room and that is only because of Fred and George. I sat back at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall too, but since my argument with Hermione, my popularity began to fall (not that I was that popular before but people accepted me, at least, and thought I was a good laugh) and people seem to come up with a lot more rumours about me than before. The newest and most twisted one that I've heard so far is that Mattheo and I want to unite the Riddle and the Black family and become Voldemort Jr & Co.

March passes me by with the amount of schoolwork I have to deal with and other duties like practicing for the Quidditch final, our last match this year which we'll play against Slytherin. As for Hermione, she does not apologize and I'm not willing to do so either because it was she who didn't believe her friend and not me. And of course, as always, Harry and Ron seem to side with her, especially when Mione's around. But when she's not, for example during Quidditch practice, Harry becomes the Harry I got to know years ago and we have a great time joking around like before this whole 'me defending Mattheo' thing.

But that only lasts until the end of practice, of course.

When I have some free time, though, I spend it with either Fred and George or with Enzo, Ki and Theo, and sometimes with Mattheo but that's always an unforeseen coincidence, just like how we met not so long ago at the Astronomy Tower.

Today, as it is a Hogsmeade Saturday, and finally Easter break, we decided to go to Hogsmeade with Ki, just the two of us. Honestly, I've missed this girl so much; we haven't hung out other than in the library for study dates in such a long time as the both of us had too many things to take care of.

Kiara Bianchi, whom I met when we were children, I grew up in the same neighbourhood with, but her family moved back to Rome when we were seven. She's half-Italian on her mother's side. Her mother, Daniele is a witch and her father, Derek is an English muggle, both of them working in business. Kiara and I have always been different from each other; the best way I can describe our dynamic is my Virgo earthiness being the extinguishment of her Aries fire. She's wild and fierce but somehow always tired, a black cat until someone else's energy matches hers. When they moved away, I thought I'd never see her again. I still remember seeing her for the first time in Hogwarts; thought I was seeing a ghost when Professor McGonagall called her name at the sorting ceremony in our first year and saw her put that old, talking hat on her head and not even two seconds later being called out to be a Slytherin.

"When I said 'slow burn' I didn't mean it like this. It's not even smouldering yet," I sip on my Butterbeer, telling Ki about the book I'm currently reading.

"Wait, so this Collins who wanted to marry her..."

"Is her cousin, yes," I nod.

"Sounds like the Blacks' habit of inbreeding," she teases with a sly grin. "How do you say? Tou-je-what?"

"Toujours pur, but that's not the point," I shake my head.

"What about Mattheo?" an unexpected change of topic already she cuts me off with.

"What about him?" I ask back.

"You haven't even talked to him before. But you have mutual friends. I'm here for the tea."

"Nothing, I just told Fred and George to leave him alone and apologized in the name of them. And now we are friends, sort of. Let's say closer to being friends than we were until two months ago. What's so surprising about it?"

"That this is Mattheo Riddle we are talking about," she points out, rolling her eyes with an annoyed tone. "He's cold and reserved and fights a lot, friends with Enzo and Theo only."

"Yeah and? Maybe he wants a third friend," I shrug with a light, playful smile.

"For Salazar's nuts, to hell with you and your unbreakable optimism," she rolls her eyes with a shake of her head but there's that shine in her eyes; the shine that tells me she has her hopes up as well about the situation.

"But he's so... interesting. There is something about his behaviour that just calls me to solve his mystery. He's really on and off, his mood constantly changing, and so is his behaviour towards me. I wanna know what this is all about, wanna get to know him. Understand him," I say even more enthusiastically than I'd first realize, Ki raises her eyebrows.

"Got a crush on that pretty face of his already?"

I playfully roll my eyes. She knows that's not the case. I mean, let's hope she does.

The Slytherin-Gryffindor match that was meant to be played in November last term got postponed being the last match of the school year of 1993-94 due to my cousin being 'attacked' by Buckbeak, the Hippogriff Hagrid showed the third-years. The previous days we've been practicing non-stop, trying to get our studies done and excel on the pitch as well, all of this on the edge of burnout.

But it was worth it, we won. Even if I lost a few kilograms due to stress and even if the only thing that kept me alive was two liters of caffeine every day (which only helped because of the placebo effect), it was worth it. And the first thing even eases me a little bit.

The last match, the last win of the year, the last homework before the last thing on the checklist of lasts; the exams. All checked which meant I could concentrate on my studies without a distraction. And I did. I barely even did anything else other than study in the past month and just to repeat myself; it was worth it because today, I had my last two exams as well and I can finally say that I am free. Now there are only twenty days left from this semester which I can spend relaxing and I can finally have some time for myself, doing whatever I please; reading under my favourite tree, hanging out with my friends, sneaking out of bed late, taking long walks on the estate and visiting the greenhouses with Enzo.

"Finally," I step out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom with an exhausted but relieved look on my face, followed by Ki, Enzo, Mattheo, and Enzo.

About this little group of five; we somehow formed into this at some point in these past two months. There is no good explanation for it: everyone was and still is friends with everyone but it took us too long to realize this, though it should've been evident. But I am glad we turned out to be like this at least by the end of the fourth year.

"I agree," Ki sighs with a big smile on her face as we sit down under a tree. I get rid of my robe first thing and loosen my tie, undoing the first button of my white shirt and cuffing the sleeves of it as I feel the sun tickling my skin with a warm sensation.

Ki, Mattheo, and Theo however pull some ciggies out of either their pockets or bags, not being affected by the warmth of the weather until they have their beloved cancer-sticks between their lips. Enzo is long-lost looking at and studying the daisies nearby.

For a moment, I get lost in my thoughts, thinking about how long I haven't felt like this in a group of friends. I am a little bit different from them, a hanging thread because of my house, as it matters this much, but that is just what makes me belong here; because I'm just as much of a misfit as they are: the two Italians with anger issues, the boy who speaks the language of flowers better than English, the other boy who gets more attention than he'd ever liked to receive and me, the girl whose biggest wish is to find her place. Not to mention my anger issues, too.

With a small smile on my face as I look at the other four, — Ki lying on the ground with her head in Theo's lap slightly inclined, Mattheo with his back against a tree, both three smoking and chatting, laughing while Enzo is looking for one particular one between all the daisies in front of him — I take my camera out of my bag, capturing the memory when I feel like I'm healing after a few rough months full of arguments and fallouts with friends.

I turn the camera in Enzo's direction, capturing how he finds the daisy he likes best and while I'm holding the button down for long seconds to make a series of pictures, he walks toward me as he notices what I'm doing with a grin. He stretches his arm with the flower in his hand out in my direction, handing it to me.

Laughing, I put the camera down and take the flower from him as he sits down between Ki's stretched-out leg and me.

I can't help but keep the smile on my face. I have never felt more relaxed and happier in anyone's company. For some odd reason, I feel like this is where I belong. Five misfits from the back row who somehow get more attention than they deserve and need.

"Is it true you two plan on taking over the world?" Theo teases Mattheo and me, earning two middle fingers flip into the air in his direction, and all five of us start to laugh.

"Of course it is," I play along sarcastically. "And we are just about to unite the two big dynasties. You'll be the ring bearer."

"And then Cassie will bear me children," Mattheo grins at me, letting himself loosen up more and more as he gets used to this new group of friends.

"How come I've never heard these rumours?" Enzo frowns with a flustered smile in my direction.

"Because you're too pure to gossip," I laugh, patting his shoulder.

"Just like the blood of the Black family," Ki adds with a smug grin.

"C'mon, this has never been funny," I roll my eyes at her.

"But it's too good not to use."

Suddenly, three figures moving outside of the castle catch my eye as I notice the sun's starting to settle, making its way down the early-evening sky.

"Are those...?" Enzo squints in the direction I'm looking.

"The trio," I nod coldly. They are quite far from us but I've been friends with them for long enough to know them by their walks.

"What they up to?" Theo looks at me and I shrug.

"No good, probably," I get up from the ground after I check the time, lifting and rotating Enzo's wrist to have a look at his watch. "It's almost curfew. I don't want to get into detention in June," I state it's better we leave.

I make my way down to the common room as I can't sleep, the stone steps of the staircase cold against my feet. I settle down in my favourite armchair by the fireplace, the flickering flames of the fire giving me just enough light to read the book I've been reading for the past two months and now, I finally have time to finish: Pride and Prejudice.

What is keeping me up even now that it's almost midnight? Although I wouldn't like to admit it, it's the thought of Harry, Ron, and Hermione sneaking out. However rude it may sound, it's not keeping me up because I care that much after what happened, no. It's rather my knowledge about how much troublemakers they are, they wouldn't sneak out when it's forbidden and clearly dangerous, especially Hermione; she'd keep the boys' recklessness in halter. I know something's up — why else would they risk their lives? Why else would they sneak out without returning before midnight?

And the sound memory in the back of my mind from earlier this evening, hearing a sound that is frighteningly reminiscent of a wolf's howl makes my stomach churn with a bad gut feeling.

Maybe I still care, after all, even with how we've drifted away from each other because of a stupid argument and side pickings. I regret not trying to make it better, and not apologizing now.

My right leg is bouncing, I'm chewing on the inside of my mouth and picking on my skin out of anxiety and the thought of my friends being out there, maybe in danger. And they've probably taken the invisibility cloak as well — there is no way I could sneak out unnoticeably; Mrs Norris would catch me.

So I'm just waiting. Waiting, until the portrait hole opens at about half an hour later.

"...You have to apologize..."

Quiet tapping sounds on the common room floor can be heard as the trio enters, under Harry's cloak, of course.

"...Told you she wouldn't do that..."

I let out a small sigh. I don't even know why I was this worried about them but I'm feeling relieved now that they are back.

"Would you stop nagging me?"

The footsteps against the floor cease as they notice me, and the snickering stops. Suddenly, two heads appear in the air and after a few moments of us three holding eye contact, they take the cloak off, letting their bodies be shown.

"Where is Ron?" I raise my eyebrows slightly. I swear I've seen both three of them sneaking out earlier.

Harry nudges Hermione, but the girl's too stubborn to answer in such a dignified manner as she normally would, she only says one word: "Infirmary."

I nod my head, not surprised at Hermione's nonchalant tone at all. She's still mad at me for not listening to her.

Harry then sighs and while he talks, he sits down on the sofa, closest to my armchair.

"Look, Cassie, we should've believed you..."

"Harry, stop," Hermione pouts quietly.

"...and not judging only because you were kind to Mattheo."

I raise my eyebrows, eager to hear everything he has to say.

"Sirius was here," he continues, my eyes widen. "And when we, well, Hermione mentioned you and the conspiracy theory, he was surprised."

Of course, he was; he didn't even know about my existence unless he simply refused to acknowledge dad's letters about how they should meet and talk. When it wasn't too late yet. And about how he should come and see me. I let out a bitter, humourless chuckle.

"And it wasn't he who got my parents killed either," he shakes his head and my brows intertwine in a frown.

"I'll tell you everything," he nods with a small but genuine smile while Hermione sighs, shaking her head.

I stop Harry with a shake of my head. "You don't have to. I didn't stay up because I wanted to know what happened. Well, in a sense, I wanna know what happened but I couldn't sleep because I saw the three of you sneak out. And I was worried because you all knew how dangerous it was to do that and if it wasn't for the better, at least Mione would have had enough sense in her to stop you two," however much I'd like to keep the coldness up, I can't keep in anything. I always feel this urge to tell everything, especially when I should keep the image up.

Hermione furrows her brows and a small smirk forms on Harry's lips.

"Yeah, well, she punched Malfoy," Harry swallows back a chuckle, my eyes widen

"She what?"

"Yeah, you should've seen that."

I look at Hermione and want to make a remark about how proud I am of her but I stop myself as I remember she hates me momentarily.

She looks down at her feet, not giving up.

I stand up and walk to her, behind the backboard of the couch.

"I know you're still mad at me, and maybe I deserve it, maybe not... but at least, can we agree on not trying to kill each other with looks like that?" I offer a hand. She looks at it, hesitating for a moment before shaking it. Finally.

"But I still don't like him," she tells me, looking me in the eyes.

"Oh, I didn't ask you to do so," I regain control over my facial expressions, putting a cold one on again.

She mirrors my cold, stern, almost rude look before taking her hand back and turning on her heels, muttering a 'goodnight,' she walks up the stairs to her dormitory.

"Merlin, you girls are weird," Harry says, to which I just give him a roll of my eyes.

"Let me not remind you how you sided with her when you had the chance not to pick sides."

A bright blush spreads across his cheeks, "Sorry."

"Never mind," I shake my head dismissively, but still quite bitterly. At least I got one friend back. At least, I hope so.

Harry pats the red velvet material of the couch next to him and I sit down next to him, "I'll tell you why we snuck out."

I listen to Harry tell me every detail about what happened tonight and what happened the night his parents got killed with an amused, interested look on my face.

"So, it was Scabbers? Scabbers as in Ron's rat," I state with a pair of wide green eyes, trying to process all the information.

"Yes. He actually looked like a rat, even as a human," Harry jokes, lightening the mood.

I laugh at how he makes a rat face. I missed being like this with him.

"And Sirius wants to become a family. He wants to adopt me or something."

I smile at him and tell him I'm glad, which I really am because Harry deserves a loving environment, especially after more than a decade spent with the Dursleys. But I can't ignore the bitter taste in my mouth; my uncle not even being interested in meeting me but offering Harry to live with him. I know, he is Harry's godfather and I am really happy for Harry, but... I feel abandoned, once again.

"What is he like?" I ask after a few seconds of staring into space.

"Like someone who'd spent a decade with dementors," he shakes his head, but what he says makes some sense, because that is what Sirius did. "He's really skinny and he could use a haircut. But he has a lot of cool tattoos and piercings. And his face, like the bone structure, yours is like his. Must've been handsome..." he explains and I try to make an image up in my mind about him. He really sounds cool and exactly what our family would disapprove of with those tattoos.

I wonder if I should ask Harry if I got mentioned after he made it clear Sirius didn't even know about my existence because it bothers me a lot, I just fear what the answer would be. I am afraid Sirius might have said he doesn't want to see me, ever. I'm afraid he assumes I'm like one of those majestic, pureblood maniacs of our family. Or could I be one of them, really? Am I like them?

There's no point in asking, you'll get no reply

Oh just remember I don't decide

I'm sitting in an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express, — I've always been the one to get Ki and me a compartment — listening to music and trying to process the things I'm reading as I'm being too focused on when the train finally leaves.

I got no reason it's all too much

You'll always find us

Out to lunch

I just want to be home already because then, the only thing I'll have to worry about is what I'm going to pack for our annual holiday in Italy with Ki, going home to her parents.

Now really, what am I gonna pack?

Oh we're so pretty

Oh so pretty

We're vacant

"Whatcha listening to?" Theo drops down on the seat next to me and I put my book down into my lap as he takes my headphones off my head, putting it on his while the others are settling down into their seats and putting their bags onto the overhead racks.

Theo frowns, "Since when do you listen to the Pistols?"

"You fucked the grammar up again," I shake my head, ignoring his question, to which he just waves me off with one hand.

"Didn't know you like the Pistols," Mattheo adds, looking at me with a surprised face. As I open my mouth to say something, Ki cuts me off already.

"Oh please, don't even ask her about music," she shakes her head dismissively at Mattheo, "we'd be sitting here all day long. 'Oh yeah, ABBA this, AC/DC that, Nirvana, Black Sabbath. You knew Rebel Rebel is about Jagger?' She's cruel."

I can't help but laugh at her statement. She has a point though.

"...and don't you forget about Deep Purple, the Stones, The Smiths, and..."

"The Smiths?" Mattheo perks up with those shiny eyes you don't see often, looking at me. "You like The Smiths?"

"Why've I even spoken up?" a sigh comes from Ki but I'm long lost, discussing music with Mattheo.

"Favourite song?" I ask with a pair of excited eyes. I love music if that hasn't been obvious by now.

"Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now," he answers enthusiastically with a big smile. He has a pretty smile.

"Guessed you would say that, you seem like the type to like that," I laugh. For some reason, whenever we discuss a topic with Mattheo, I get lost in time and space, not even noticing how long we talk, nor bothering whether there are other people. "I love that one a lot but my favourites are probably 'Panic', 'Back To The Old House' and 'There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.'"

"I thought at least Mattheo would be normal when I joined this group of mentally unstable people," Ki exclaims with a face that says 'this was the worst decision of my life'.

"Hey!" Enzo turns to her with an inquisitive look.

"Shut up, flower boy," to this, we all share a little laugh, and Enzo flips Ki off.

Theo, however, seems content and completely lost in my music, playing with my Walkman, not even listening to the conversation going on.

It's nice not to have only the two of us in our compartment for once, as the boys usually sat in a separate one; we don't run out of things to discuss, even with how we have been together like this 24/7, bonding, growing closer in the past few months.

In the evening back at King's Cross Station, Ki and I say goodbye to the boys, hugging them both one by one, pulling them into long hugs. Long hugs are my thing; they make me feel loved and I hope I make the person I hug feel the same as well.

I bury my face into Enzo's chest as he's the last one I say goodbye to, his arms wrapping around my upper back and just as always, Ki and Theo make fun of us for both of our love language being physical touch.

"Ooh, every time we say goodbye, I die a little," they sing in unison, pretending to be touched, earning a middle finger flip into the air by me, pulling back from my friend a moment later.

Waving at the three of them, Ki and I start to make our way to mum with all our luggage. I can't believe our fourth year at Hogwarts is over. Right when I started to enjoy it because of the time spent together with my friends in a new environment.

"You and Enzo seem closer by the second," tying her hair up, says Ki, looking at me from the mirror while I'm sitting on my bed, looking at the photos on my digital camera that were taken in the past few months.

"Huh?" I look up, dropping the device into my lap.

"You and Enzo became pretty close," turning around, she walks to the bed and sits down opposite me, folding her legs.

"We've always been close," I shake my head with a frown of my eyebrows. This was quite a topic to just get into the middle of.

"Yeah, I know but you barely wanted to let go of him today," she smirks.

"I do not have feelings for him," I roll my eyes when I realize what she's talking about.

"Oh really?" furrowing her brows, she takes my camera from my lap, noticing the photo on its screen. "Then what is this? Pretty boy handing you a flower," she turns the device in my direction and I can feel a light blush creep down my cheeks.

"It was only for the picture," I shake my head.

"Oh sure, and now you're blushing only for fun," she gives me a knowing look. It really does seem like I like him. But I don't. But it feels like I've been caught, staring at his picture while trying to prove I don't like him.

"I don't like him like that," I refuse again, earning a roll of her eyes from Ki.

"And then, if we are pointing out suspiciously close friend dynamics, what is up with Theo and you, hm?" I get back at her with a smirk.

She throws a pillow at me.

"Shut it, you know he's not my type."

"That is what I'm saying!"

This is followed by a few seconds of silence, looking at each other, and searching the other's face suspiciously.

"Let's agree on none of us liking either of them?"

"Deal."

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tag list: @reyys-letters @mqstermindswift

[supernatural-hunter1]

HAIIIII POOKIE :D!!!!! I have another request bc your writing has me hypnotized😆 I was wondering if you could do soft Touya/Dabi x male reader (or GN whichever you prefer:3) and reader was childhood friends with Dabi but dabi doesn't remember like reader does and Dabi lashes out at the LOV and storms off but reader follows him and sees Dabi crying. Dabi gets mad and accidentally hurts reader but they understand why and hug him and comfort him and talks to him about why he's been upset and lashed out. Reader calls him Touya while comforting him and he remembers who they are 🥺🥺🥺 I'm obsessed with your writing and take your time with this!❤️❤️❤️❤️

- Sincerely, 🕷️Anon

First of all, i am all for turning Dabi into a big lovey-dovey softy HEE HEE!!😈. And second of all, I’m not fully caught up with seasons 6 and 7 of the show (BECAUSE I’M NOT EMOTIONALLY PREPARED FOR IT!!!😭 especially not after what happened to Twice I’m still recovering from that emotional scar😢) BUT….. I do love the “Dabi’s dance” episode, so I will try my best? (And Also thanks to the spoilers for MHA now I don’t have to relive that emotional roller coaster,😅) (plus I love friends to lovers tropes😁)

“What Once Was Lost, But Now Is Found.”

DABI x femReader!

Summary: You and Touya were once childhood best friends, until the night of the accident? Years may have passed, but you still never gave up on finding him, and when you do find him he changed his name to “Dabi” But has he given up on the relationship you two once had?

——————————————————————————

The two of you have been friends since you were kids, you live next door to the Todoroki’s house for as long as you could remember? You and Touya became fast friends laughing and playing together, talking about your dreams and things you would do when you grow up? But that all changed when the accident happened in the woods. You felt like everything around you came crashing down all at once, after that night you blamed Endeavor for killing your best friend you remember seeing Touya come over covered in bruises and scratches from ‘training with his dad’ but you knew it was lies and you always patched him up, so you vowed to someday take revenge on Endeavor and make him pay for what he has done?

But now, many years later, here you are all grown up and joining the League Of Villains. And to make it even more interesting is that over these past few weeks, is that you started developing a crush on a certain black raven-hired villain Dabi? Tall, dark and mysterious, covered in scars, and for some reason you feel drawn to him like some kind of magnetic force was pulling you in, it’s a very strange feeling? You remember so clearly about the day you first met the league. Giran brought you in because you wanted to join the league, and you explained to Shigaraki how your quirk worked which was a ‘Wizard’ based quirk.

So after a while of getting to know everyone even you saw Dabi, you couldn’t believe it? You immediately realized those beautiful blue eyes anywhere, your lone-lost best friend was alive! So when you walked up to him with a smile and said ‘hi’ at first he looked at you bluntly like he was trying to recognize you from somewhere? But you wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t remember you? After all, it has been years since you’ve last seen each other, and you won’t force those old memories on him either you just patiently wait for them to return on their own. And since then you become closer to him.

One night you were talking to Dabi and Toga interrupted you “Hey y/n can i ask you something?” She asked with a slight grin? “What is it Toga?” You respond, “May i ask what made you want to be a villain in the first place?” She said, that question made everyone’s eyes on you now, i mean. Villains become villains for a reason? Which makes sense why she was curious about what made you become a villain in the first place? You giggled, “I thought i made it clear that like any other villain wanted, revenge?” You said with a smirk, “please?” Toga asked?

You shrugged, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell ya.” You began, “The reason why I’m here, is because i want to get revenge on the pro hero named ‘Endeavor’ for killing my best friend, we were only children when my friend was killed.” You said taking a sip of your drink, Toga’s eyes widened with shock at your words, but Dabi was the one that flinched right as he heard you tell the story.

But while everyone’s attention was on you as you told your story, without a word Dabi gets up from his set by the bar he starts heading towards the door, but as he was about to leave he heard Twice’s voice from behind him. “Hey Dabi where are you going?” He asked curiously? “It’s none of your business.” Dabi snapped in a low harsh tone as he walked out the door.

After a few minutes you decide to slip away while no one was looking so you can go find Dabi? As you were walking through the hallway you noticed a door leading up to the rooftop of the hideout, once you opened the door there he was leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars.

You smile appears on your face “Dabi there you are i-!” You call out, but you were cut off by his flames when he turned around, you quickly dodge it, “OW! Ow!, Hot!, hot!, hot!,” you said quietly taking off your jacket, thrown it to the ground stomping on the flames to put them out, his eyes widened when Dabi realized it was you, “Y/n?” He says his voice a little shaken? You look up at him a mixture of emotions shock, fear, anger, it’s all there written across his face.

“Y/n what are you doing here?!” He said with anger in his voice, you reached down picking up your jacket. “I came here looking for you and is that really how to greet an old friend?” You giggled as you wiped away the dust from your jacket, “What are you talking about? I don’t even know you?” He said as he turned away from you clutching his hands into fists, you put on your jacket as you slowly walked up to him.

“That maybe true, but i think that i remember a lot more than you do Touya?” You said softly,

and that is when you noticed a stream of bloody tears falling from the line of healthy and scared skin, when he fully turned to you in shock after hearing you say his real name?

“H-How do you know my real name?” He asked? Seeming a bit worried, now knowing that he truly doesn’t remember you? You walk over to him, hesitated a little before you reach your hands up cupping his face to gently wipe away his bloody tears, you whisper something under your breath before pulling him down towards you and gently kissed his forehead.

Suddenly all of his memories come crashing down on him all at once, when you pulled away looking at him with a light smile, his eyes widened “Y/n?” He whispered, “Yes Dabi.” You replied?

His lips curled up into a smile, and before you know it he picked you up and spun you around in the air as he let out a light laugh, then hugs you tight to his chest, his actions caught you off guard, but you still smiled. “I knew you were still alive all these years.” You mumbled before looking up at him, “And I’m sorry for not coming to look for you after waking up from my coma.” He said as he brings his hand up to cup the side of your face.

You nuzzle the side of your face against his palm while reaching your hand over his, and squeeze it tightly as you feel your warm tears down your cheeks through the cold air, eyes looking up to meet his gaze and gave him a soft smile.

“i finally found you, I’ve missed you so much.” You said as you let out a small sob, he slowly leaned in and gently kissed your tears falling from your cheeks, before leaning his forehead against yours.

“I miss you too y/n.” he whispered then gently pressed his lips against yours, it was warm and soft but you felt a cold shiver running up your spine, Dabi wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him so he could keep you warm as he deepened the kiss more passionately.

A few minutes go by, you break away from the kiss leaning your forehead against his and smile, “let’s go back inside before you start to catch a cold.” He says taking both your hands in his, “okay” you nodded then he drags you back inside the hideout and you both sneak into his room.

Once the door was closed you pulled him towards the bed and climbed in, he kissed you forehead then pulled you close to his chest, “I love you doll I’m sorry for giving up on us.” He whispered, You shook your head. “I love you too, Touya it’s not your fault all that matters to me is that we finally found each other again.” You said, as you rest your head between his neck and shoulder, you felt his arms tighten around you and the both of you cuddled in each other’s arms the rest of the night.

(sorry this took so long to finish. I’ve been busy for the last two months, but I hope you enjoyed😅)

[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 5

The gang takes a field trip to the Marshlands to study the artifact that Blake brought in. As they get closer, David loses even more control over his reality warping imagination, and things get weird. Then they get weirder.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (Previous) | 6 (Next)

MaleTF // Ass Growth // Dick Growth // Growth // Macro // Suggestion // nsfw

Author note: I was reflecting on how this series was originally supposed to end with part 2, but then @alias-miniature shared some words of encouragement and here we are. I think I wrote the climax of this chapter while I was still playing around with part 3, I've just been spending months finding excuses to wax poetic about some wobbly spacetime nonsense lol.

---

“Ooo are we taking the Mystery Machine?” I asked, voice echoing off the concrete pillars of the parking garage.

“We really don’t need to call it that,” said Armand. He pushed a utility cart laden with equipment as he led our group towards a row of old vehicles that the Center for Supernatural Sciences had acquired used, offhand, or through some nefarious means over the years, the most recent of which being a blue and green SUV well suited for group field trips off the beaten path. The obvious nickname being to me–and most everyone else in my opinion–the Mystery Machine.

“But we are taking it,” Lee confirmed.

Armand opened the hatchback, revealing a spacious interior already pre-prepped for our little adventure. The entire second row had been removed, as well as all but one seat in the back. Packs of what looked like hiking supplies, snacks, and a cooler were arranged on the floor toward the front, leaving an open space just large enough for our pallet full of magical gizmos. Without thinking, I squatted down and picked it up, sliding it neatly into place.

“What?” I asked, noticing Armand’s stare. “Does it not go there?” I quickly remembered that lifting the entire pallet of whimsical yet heavy duty tools and gadgets like a sack of potatoes was not a normal thing that someone was supposed to be able to do. Even someone with my physique. I’d been having some hiccups in getting used to my new strength, evidenced by the similarly incredulous stares that morning as I was casually outpacing rush hour traffic on my bike to work.

“We’ll fill you in,” said Lee, patting Armand on the shoulder as he strolled past us to lounge in the lone third row seat, elegantly stretching his legs across the extra space. 

Armand sighed in resignation, hopping into the driver's seat as I plopped down into the passenger. “We’re meeting Blake at the site in the Marshlands, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

—

The Mystery Machine headed east along the interstate through the dignified gray hinterlands patiently awaiting a snow fall. Handing Lee the aux cord wasn’t the best idea, but at least he was trying to match the mood of the early winter landscape in between bubble gum pop hits, a welcome respite from Armand’s request for a locally produced, surprisingly dull, occult news podcast that he kept up with for “research.” I fell into the flow of rolling hills and stands of denuded trees, unable to fully drift off due to the magnetic tug coming from the back of the car.

I hadn’t gotten solid details about the artifact that Blake had brought in, and that we were now transporting back to where it came from. Admittedly, I had still been in a haze of post-coital bliss when Lee filled me in on the situation, more interested in the sight of him maneuvering his girthy snake back into his pants than the words that had been coming out of his mouth. But I got the gist.

The artifact had come from the Marshlands, but not from the Marshlands, so to speak. According to Blake, it had been sitting in a perfectly circular clearing on a patch of higher ground, waiting there long enough to become half buried in humus and partially coated in a fuzzy moss.

“Waiting is the important word here,” said Lee. “That’s how Blake mentioned it multiple times. Like it was waiting to be found.”

“But it hadn’t been there long?” I asked, pulling a backup pair of leggings out of a desk drawer after having torn my original pair like tissue paper trying to get them to cooperate with my glutes.

“Relatively speaking, no. We can’t quite pinpoint when it appeared there, but we don’t think it was placed by human hands. The physical and metaphysical signatures point to somewhere other than the Marshlands. Somewhere else. It was causing disturbances in the cleanroom that we hadn’t seen before.”

“Like how the sigils changed color?”

“Yeah. They turned into a lightshow after you left, you should’ve seen it.”

The actual artifact appeared to be some sort of device. A copper colored sphere about the size of a soccer ball, that felt like unglazed clay to the touch and was much heavier than it had any right to be. Patterns of some inscrutable design were inlaid across its surface in flowing lines of gold, teal and lavender that seemed to glow with their own passive light. 

“We took a 3D scan and sent it over to archives to see if they had any reference to decode it,” said Lee. “But Logan said every time he opens the file it looks slightly different on his monitor. His tech can only figure it out partially, but never enough to crack the code. You remember Logan, right?”

“How could I forget,” I said with obvious sarcasm, looking forward to catching up with the archivist who inadvertently started all this mess. 

“He thinks the only way to figure it out is to conduct experiments with it on site. He’s supposed to be out there with Blake, preparing the area. ”

That can’t be good, I thought, but reminded myself that it wasn’t all Logan’s fault. It’s not like he was planning on becoming the conduit for some ancient horny trickster deity, or was even trained to effectively deal with that scenario. This sort of thing was part of my job and even I was slowly crumbling under the pressure of Synt’s unrelenting power. It’s a miracle Logan lasted as long as he did. Sometimes it felt like the boundaries of my corporeal form were becoming thinner and thinner, my perception of mundane reality slowly beginning to fade into Synt’s casually multidimensional experience.

—

As we approached the Marshlands, the barriers between worlds began to blur even further. My senses kept expanding in weird directions in physical space and other space, the passing landscape enlivened with echoes and resonances of nearby timelines bumping up against our own. I could feel the artifact in the back of the Mystery Machine more strongly, but the blunt magnetic tug was slowly resolving into something more nuanced. Like a complex rhythm underneath Lee’s playlist, overlapping patterns of subsonic vibes that manifested in my head as the shifting glow of the lines across the sphere. As the mental image came together in increasing sharpness, the ball opened–not mechanically, but through some sort of phase change, its solid surface shifting into–

The van shuddered to a halt, bringing me back to reality as Armand turned the engine off. We had come off the interstate onto some county road and stopped at a nondescript gas station with no other vehicles in sight. Without the flow of the rolling highway landscape to distract me, I could almost taste how fuzzy reality was out here. There were whorls and eddies of chaotic possibility that were almost as iridescent as the puddles on the ground. Maybe it was something about the geography, maybe I was spending too much time in close proximity to the artifact, maybe the outlines of my form that identified me as a discrete being in this world were being erased from the inside out. Maybe all of the above. Regardless, I tried to tamp down the flutter of worry that sprung up in my stomach, shifting into the conspicuous ‘just act normal’ affect of someone who’s just realized they’ve misjudged an edible.

Armand chatted briefly with the station attendant, who seemed unable to decide if it was less rude to gawk at the anaconda running around Armand’s left hip or the sight of Lee stretching his arms up and towering over the SUV. He relented, keeping his attention pointedly directed at the task of filling up the tank. Armand headed inside to scope out snacks, a slight wobble in his gait as he maneuvered his dick into a more comfortable position, while Lee wandered off a little to admire the scenery and stretch his legs.

Without the distraction of my companions, and unwilling to try and settle back into a nap, I twisted around to rummage through the snack cooler, tossing the dried fruit and trail mix aside to snatch up the family size bag of some obscure brand of cheese puffs. The complex notes coming from the artifact (that seemingly no one else could hear) had settled into background noise, piquing my attention as they became slightly discordant, building in what felt like anticipation. As I angled myself back up, I paused, catching the gaze of the station attendant through the open rear window. He looked awestruck, and with one leg splayed across the driver's seat and my amazonian ass perched in the air, I could figure out why.

“I, uh, sorry,” he said, looking distraught as he forced himself to tear his eyes away from the sight of my supernaturally round butt cheeks. He was adorable as he blushed, still biting into his lower lip.

“It’s cool,” I chuckled. “Cheese puffs?” I opened the bag of bright orange corn products, offering them in his direction.

“I’m good,” he said. “I’m trying to stop eating those. Pretty sure they’re going straight to my hips.”

He had this look on his face like he was surprised he even said that, which just added to how cute his visible embarrassment was. But as the words left his lips, the notes from the artifact began to crescendo ever so slightly, harmonizing with that all too familiar feeling of Synt’s power emerging into this realm, the anticipation building.

Oh, I thought. I see. It almost felt as if this scenario had been written for us, and with the wobbliness of my current perception of linear time, it was a little more clear that it kind of had. The notes had been laid out and all we had to do was hit them. So I already knew what to expect as I said my next line, “Then you must eat these all the time.”

And there it was. His stance shifted slightly as we settled into a timeline in which he had already had a bubble butt juicy enough to see from the front.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a problem,” he said with a nervous laugh, one hand resting on the shelf of his ass while the other moved the gas pump back into place. “Honestly, I was about to ask you for advice. Hard to find pants that fit my…shape, out here in the boonies.”

And it was obvious why. His khakis looked painted on, straining against the melons that ballooned from his lower back. I could practically hear the stitches screaming in terror from the dreaded cheese puffs that had been the downfall of so many of their predecessors, as if sheer proximity to the artificially flavored snack dust in the air risked pushing his bubble butt to a level of catastrophic stress, until–

I caught a glimpse of his cakes seeming to expand, not through the usual flipbook of timelines, but physically in ‘real’ time, growing bigger and rounder before my very eyes. He took notice too, turning his torso just in time to see the seat of his pants completely give way, falling apart as his ass cheeks expanded into open air, clad in only a pair of pink and white striped bikini briefs that barely covered the top of his shelf.

“Ah shit!” he exclaimed, trying and failing to pull the fabric back together over an ass that actually was bigger than it had been thirty seconds ago. “I think I’ve got some backups in my locker. Have a good one!”

“Oh, no problem,” I offered, watching the globes of his butt cheeks swish back and forth as he power walked back inside, mildly apologetic in the knowledge that whatever replacement pants he already had would bear the exact same fate.

That time, it had felt so familiar, yet slightly different. The nuances of Synt’s power were so much clearer out here, like I could taste the full complexity of the flavor profile, but with that, the barriers between their world and this one were much more porous. Or maybe I was just better at reading the cracks, tunnels, and pathways. Out here, it was more apparent that the mental, physical, and metaphysical coordination of vocal speech was just a way to channel short bursts of magic from one side of the divide to the other. And without the usual solidity of the barriers between worlds, maybe the unchecked power of imagination could slip through just as easily.

“That you?” asked Lee, who had apparently strolled back to the van just in time to see the attendant’s comically large ass split his pants wide open, letting his hand grab a handful of cheese puffs as he also indulged in the sight of the attendant’s purposeful stride back to the convenience store.

“Yup,” I muttered. “Be careful with those, I heard they go straight to your hips.” I had been joking, but was also genuinely concerned that I may have inadvertently cast a spell on this exact brand of junk food that was now creating bubble butted men across its distribution range. I made a mental note to look into that right after all the other magical calamities spawning off around me.

—

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful, encouraged by the fact that Armand had somehow gained control of the aux cord and was dragging us through an audiobook about spectral informatics that he was already half way into. I was still crammed up front, dutifully pretending to be asleep but actually fighting every urge not to phase accidentally out of the car. I shuddered with metaphysical tension, the weight of my cosmic companion eroding away any solid grasp on reality.

Lee, with his boundless patience and grace, humored his lab partner, asking lazy yet helpful questions while he lounged in the back, dinner plate size hands still dwarfed by the firehose bulge that he stroked absentmindedly. He looked like he could stretch to fill the entire length of the Mystery Machine if we wanted to, like he could indulgently take up more space as easily as yawning. The harmonics of the artifact sitting resolutely next to him seemed to resonate with his lithe form, and in my partial consciousness I couldn’t help but imagine his body slipping into semi-liquidity with the notes, stretching slightly with the rhythm but each time not quite returning all the way to where it began. He could really become the embodiment of grace if he wanted. If I wanted. As county roads turned to back roads and we passed the vine covered “Marshlands State Park” sign, the trees in the landscape seemed to stretch up with similar ease, yawning in the breeze. I imagined Lee strolling through the forest, towering over us as he stretched with them.

I could no longer keep up a convincing facade of unconsciousness as the van turned off the small forest road onto a poorly maintained gravel path that led to a patch of dirt currently occupied by a shiny new park ranger truck. Armand pulled up next to it as Lee and I scanned the area for our collaborators, seeing only a path through the trees that led down to an expanse of shallow water.

As I stepped out of the van, the satisfying crack of my back and shoulders preceded an indulgent yawn, breath sparkling in the crisp air as I took in our surroundings. My moment of idyll was interrupted by a surprised grunt as Lee whacked his head against the top of the passenger door, stumbling with a brief moment of uncharacteristic clumsiness. I quickly realized why as he rose to his full height, which was itself a full foot taller than it had been just a few hours before. He looked down at himself in mild confusion, which transitioned to a painful wince as, with a staccato of popping sounds, the threads of his shoes failed and his feet burst through, toes and heels spilling out from both ends.

“C’mon man,” Lee said, realization dawning in my direction. “Those were size nineteen.” His look of annoyance melted into one of mild worry. “You sure you’re holding it together?” he asked, coming in to pat my shoulder but jerking back at a sharp bolt of static shock.

“Just barely,” I said.

“Looks like someone had a growth spurt!” exclaimed Blake, who seemed to emerge out of nowhere as he walked up toward us. 

“Speak for yourself,” Lee muttered, gazing down at him suspiciously. 

Blake, once again, looked noticeably bigger than we had last seen him. His ranger uniform was pushed to the limit, inflated biceps and quads straining his sleeves and shorts. I got the sense that having his shirt unbuttoned down to his nipples wasn’t just an aesthetic choice, but the result of a struggle lost against his massive pecs. His muscle butt ballooned behind him, cheeks bouncing back and forth as he unloaded gear from the truck bed.

“He is getting bigger,” came a voice way too suddenly in our vicinity.

Lee reared back with an overdramatic flourish before finally noticing Logan standing several feet away, practically swimming in a pair of oversized waders.

“How?” I asked. “Because it’s definitely not me,” and shot a defensive glance at Lee.

“I, well–” said Logan.

“Maybe he met super dick,” quipped Armand, looking overly busy organizing equipment, as if to emphasize the fact that the rest of us were just standing around.

“No, I don’t think so, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about–”

“Do you think they’re each other’s type?” Lee asked with a look of genuine interest.

“There have been some developments with–”

“Let’s not get lost in the imaginary meet cute,” I said. “We’re here on magical nonsense business. We’re in the field. We’re setting up equipment. We’re wearing field gear. Logan’s wearing…waders for some reason.”

“...with the…well they’re–”

“The only thing that fits?” offered Armand with uncharacteristic sincerity. I guess as the two local monster dick twinks, they’ve exchanged fashion tips here and there. They looked extremely roomy, yet somehow still distended from the pressure of his prodigious wang, which looked like it had gone through some aftershocks of growth after his fateful visit to my office.

“Well it’s just that we’re taking the–”

“Airboat!” I exclaimed, suddenly noticing the watercraft parked off a short pier just down the hill. “We’re taking an airboat? You drive an airboat?” I asked, with no hint of even trying to cover my surprise.

“I pilot an airboat,” Blake corrected with an upbeat smile, his tree trunk quads swelling with muscle as he walked up toward us. “The wet season keeps lasting longer and longer, so unless you wanna wade over there…”

“That why Logan’s dressed to catch a catfish by hand?” asked Lee.

“Well these are the only gear that fit,” said Logan, as if suddenly remembering he was there.

Ah ha, I thought. “So you’re driving us to that…island.”

“I’m piloting you to the island,” said Blake, not so much to me as to the stand of cypress trees in the distance, his gaze lingering for a few seconds as the rest of us relented and shifted to the task of hauling the gear down to the airboat.

As I unloaded the apparatus from the van, prepared to repeat my feat of strength from that morning, I noticed it was significantly lighter. Still heavy, I imagined, by normal human standards, but easy enough to lug down to the boat with minimal strain, earning me an appreciative whoop and generous slap on the butt from Blake. Did I somehow get stronger or was the artifact behaving in some new, strange way?

The airboat looked like one of the big tourist-carrying models that had apparently been repurposed for the parks service. The residue of the old logo of some defunct swamp tour company still visible around the parks logo and info placed on top. The name, Swamp Hag, remained the same, still legible amid the wear and rust. Most of the rows of seating along the flat bottom hull had been removed in favor of storage space, now filled with all of our stuff, leaving us cozied up in the two rows at the back.

The whine of the engine was quickly outmatched by the roar of the propeller, overbearing even through earplugs, as Blake started us up and began ferrying us to the island in the distance. We cruised over golden brown fields of late season wetland grasses, passing clumps of cattails bursting with fluffy seed heads. I glanced up to see Blake behind and above us in the pilot seat, eyes locked intently ahead towards our destination, left hand nimbly controlling the rudder stick. 

Seated in the middle, I was directly below him and positioned between his meaty quads. He always seemed to be on the verge of bursting out of his pants these days, which wasn’t helped by the massive pipe creeping slowly down his right leg, leaving dark spots of precum and even pulsing with an occasional lurch further and increase in girth. I couldn’t tell if that was just my imagination, but I wasn’t in any position to let my imagination wander, exemplified by the fact that the moon, visible in the daytime sky, seemed to keep switching between stationary object and figure-eight analemma. But with the neverending drone of the propeller, I needed a distraction, and couldn’t help but let Synt’s power slip out just a little, envisioning what might happen if that prodigious bulge–

A piercing, subsonic feedback ran through my skull as I had the distinct feeling of two of the same magnetic poles brought too close together. As the pain subsided, I glanced up again to see Blake smile down, give me a conspiratorial wink, and return to the task at hand. 

I decided to deal with that later as we pulled up to the island and began carrying things through the wall of cypress trees towards the interior. Vegetation was dense, but a winding footpath had been carved in previous visits, aided by the fact that much of the underbrush had died back. The trees seemed to whisper among themselves in some conversation that we weren’t a part of but were fine to listen in on, the low lying sounds of the forest becoming more complex until we stepped into the relative silence of a moss-covered clearing in the middle.

“This is where you found it?” asked Armand, eyes scanning the ground for any clues or disturbances. “It looks…untouched.”

“It’s where it found us,” Blake joked in a tone that wasn’t especially humorous. “And yeah, it just sort of appeared. Right there in the middle.”

Armand and Lee set to work setting up a makeshift cleanroom, moving around the perimeter of the circular clearing to lay down plexiglass panels featuring the familiar protective sigils from the lab. I opened the apparatus to remove the artifact, which practically sang in recognition, complex linework of lavender and gold forming and reforming across its surface. It felt as light as styrofoam as I lifted it and carried it across the space. As we reached the center, it simply stopped moving. In fact, as I let my hands slip away, it simply remained stationary. Just hovered in the air, rotating slowly.

“Now that’s cool,” said Blake, walking up to the artifact. “It wasn’t doing that before.” He lifted a finger and brought it up to the surface, hovering a few centimeters away. The curls, diagrams, and fractals covering the sphere seemed to converge around Blake’s fingertip in a multicolored spiral before sending a visible jolt of electricity across the short distance.

“Are you okay?” asked Logan, walking up behind him, responding to Blake’s quiet yelp.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “It felt…great, actually.” His eyes seemed lost in the patterns of the artifact as it seemed to dematerialize into a loose amalgamation of strings, a facsimile of a solid sphere, singing in complex harmonies, rising in a slow crescendo.

“Are y’all picking this up?” I asked Lee and Armand, who were just getting the monitoring equipment online.

“Picking what up?” asked Lee. 

Before we could answer, a pulse of iridescent energy shot out from the artifact, passing through us and stopping a few feet before the perimeter, forming a dome that resembled a giant soap bubble.

“Oh wow, it worked,” whispered Blake.

“What worked?” I asked, squinting my eyes at him. “What’s happening?”

“It’s a force field, they made a force field,” called Lee, motioning to the layer of shimmering air directly in front of him.

“I did not think that would work,” said Blake.

“Didn’t think what would work?” I asked with increasing suspicion.

“You gotta trust me,” said Blake, hands splayed apologetically yet his eyes showing a touch of overexcitement. “We’ve been talking about your situation and–”

“Situation? Who? You and Logan?”

“And…our cosmic deity mutual friend.”

“You’ve been talking to Synt,” I snapped. How? I thought. “Through Logan?”

“Well, they’re still connected in certain ways. I guess they were always connected or whatever?”

“Of course. Of course,” I drummed against the nook between my eyebrows.

“Synt didn’t tell you?” Blake asked.

“Didn’t tell me what?”

“About completing the ritual. We need to complete the ritual,” he said with growing intensity.

“What ritual?” My tone annoyed and mildly incredulous.

“The one we started with the artifact in your office,” offered Logan, as if explaining an email I ignored. “We opened the portal but we need to let it close behind them.”

“Oh is their presence weakening the fabric of spacetime in a localized area?” asked Armand, tapping nonchalantly on the force field like a thick pane of glass. “I guess that makes sense.”

“A little more concern would be nice. Blake’s getting pretty antsy in here,” I said.

“We’re getting you out, bud! We’re on it,” said Lee, turning to dig around in one of the totes full of equipment while Armand continued to inspect the perimeter.

“I don’t know what sweet nothings Synt has been whispering in your ears,” I said to Blake, “but I promise you they’re just fucking with all of us.”

“No, no, I think it’s about resonance,” said Blake. “We’ve only heard one chord in a cosmic symphony! We just have to let them finish.”

“Finish what–”

I was cut off as everything seemed to shift into some sort of non-space, Blake, Lee, Armand, and Logan no longer visible but the forcefield now hyperreal as a solid structure of what looked like glowing golden wires in hexagonal patterns. There was no longer the soft solidity of the mossy clearing, and the forcefield was revealed as not a dome but a sphere, surrounding me on all sides. I hovered stationary in space, rotating slowly around the smaller sphere of the artifact, which pulsed with harmonics and rhythms within and without the color spectrum, seeming to flow in tandem with the structure surrounding us. 

It absorbed my attention and I had the sinking sensation of falling perpetually towards it, plummeting through strata of timelines, tangling and untangling through interwoven threads of possibilities and fractal perception, catching small glimpses here and there of moments in space time, some that I could recall from memory and some that were wildly unfamiliar. I saw Synt talking with me at the bar and simultaneously with Logan in my class weeks before. I realized that for them, there was no linear time, and the best approximation for someone in my three-dimensional existence was cosmic terror and confusion as I fell through the complex dimensional framework of strings that they were delicately pulling. They had been building to something, I realized. Were always building to something. Are currently building to something that in this thread of spacetime is finally coming together.

I had the sensation of breathing in and zooming out, seeing a birds eye view in unnatural clarity of the wetland clearing, the artifact in the exact center spinning wildly and sending multicolored pulses of light, the surrounding trees murmuring amongst themselves, and beyond that the unseasonal expanse of placid water in a symmetrical ovoid shape that came to a point at both ends. It looked unmistakably like an eye.

With a resounding thud in my mind, I came back to this place in this timeline–or more accurately I had never left and was never there–and noticed Blake standing there wide eyed. I could taste the lust and excitement pouring off of him like a snake flicking the air. He had only gotten tastes here and there of what he could become and he was starving, unapologetically dreaming about ridiculous, indulgent size. Who was I to deny the full extent of what he could be? Why would I have ever held back this power?

I fell to my knees as another wave of Synt’s untapped chaos magic took over my being, reverberating through the space. I was dimly aware of rings of multicolored, iridescent mushrooms rising and falling in concentric waves around us. For a second I lost my physical senses, overwhelmed by Synt’s ability to see seamlessly across planes of existence and temporal strata. As my body struggled to make sense of this metaphysical tsunami, I could see the perspective of every cell ringing out simultaneously. I could see every possibility in every timeline. It was beautiful and terrible, threads waving, trailing, breaking, weaving into each other with chaos and grace. In this other sense, I felt the cleansing surge of a deluge following a dam break as my guard finally went down and Synt stepped fully into my being in this world. I had been holding them back for so long, letting go was a welcome relief.

I heard the strangely familiar sound of a string being plucked. 

Blake, ever the gentleman, snapped out of his enraptured fascination to try and help me up, jumping back as a visible bolt of electricity shot into his hand from my left bicep. I was an energetic livewire, and Blake’s eyes widened further in glee as he watched the muscles throughout his arm flex with a sickening pump, settling down as a wave of subtle growth spread throughout the rest of his body. Maybe this was due to my supercharged supernatural senses, but I noticed that his musculature was incredibly, unnaturally dense. He must’ve been somehow stronger than even the veritable wall of shredded muscle implied.

Still feeling his juicier pecs, he mused to the others, “that was just one touch. Imagine what you could do,” he added, turning to me.

“Yes,” I grunted through gritted teeth. “Imagine.” I grabbed his arm with lightning fast quickness. In fact, I don’t even remember moving my body at all. My hand was simply wrapped around his bicep because I willed it with a thought.

His head lolled back in euphoria as I poured into him. He was a willing participant, an enthusiastic receptacle of possibility powered by a vivid imagination of what his body could be and do. A deep, hungry wish that I happily granted. And then some. As he came back to his senses, his eyes took in a seemingly smaller space, his head inching farther from the ground as his massive feet took up more and more surface area. A look of worry replaced one of triumph as he realized how much he dwarfed even Lee’s eight and a half feet on the other side of the dome, with no signs of stopping. 

“Wait,” he groaned through waves of orgasmic pleasure. “Slow down. It’s…too much.” My hands had drifted to the slabs of his pecs, trailing onto his cobblestone abs as he continued to stretch and grow in all directions. He grabbed my hands with his massive paws, but the additional contact only sent a pulse of growth through his already gargantuan body, several feet of cock tearing through whatever fabric his quads and glutes hadn’t already shredded and thwacking onto the ground. 

“What’s…happening…won’t…stop,” he eked out, falling to all fours and breathing heavily as his mega dick spurted globs of precum that puddled below him. He was a larger than life behemoth of glistening, shredded muscle, except of course for the huge globes of his impossibly fat ass, which seemed to keep widening and ballooning as the rest of his growth slowed down.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off the overinflated glutes in front of me, caressing each, my otherwise huge hands dwarfed by the sheer size of them, falling into the heft of each pillowy cheek. Blake’s pride and joy, the unmissable bubble booty that could stop traffic and pull anyone at the bar, had blown up beyond comical proportions, each cheek large enough to crush the truck he drove here in. I felt my hands growing to monstrous proportions just to handle the boulders of blubber whose expansion was finally slowing to a stop as he panted in exhaustion, arching his back in insatiable need.

It all felt oddly reminiscent of the dream I had had of being eaten out by Synt while growing impossibly huge in the archives. Having just gotten a glimpse of Synt’s perception out of the bounds of linear time, I realized Of course. It was--for lack of a better concept, and from my meager three dimensional perspective--prophetic.

And we were hungry.

[little-miss-deviant-s-diaries]

Hey. What do you like about older men? What do they make you feel?

Hello there, mysterious person!

In a previous post, I mentioned being asked a similar question by a friend, but I couldn't find a satisfying answer.

This might take a bit to explain fully. Most people assume that the reason why younger women like older men is because they are financially stable or maybe because we have daddy issues. That would be partially true but not exactly the reason why. If you asked women who have dated both younger and older men, you would get a response from them saying that they find older men more mature, mentally and emotionally, confident, knowledgeable, and wise, and these women are not wrong in thinking that.

Personally, though, what really gets me is charisma. I find it incredibly appealing. Honestly, if a guy has that special charm, he can just go buy a leash because I might end up following him on all fours like a dog if he asked me. woof woof

Older men, compared to younger guys, have already discovered themselves. Most of them are not here to play (well, not talking about that kind of play ;p, I love an older naughty gentlemen!!! swoon). They tend to be more assertive and know what they want, and isn't that just extremely magnetic?

Now, let's go back to your original question: what do I like about older men? I'll start by saying, I don't exactly know what daddy issues are. So I really wouldn't say that's what caused me to be more attracted to them. However, I do look for a protector in a partner, someone who shows authority but also care,wait a second.. those attributes are something you will find in a father figure... maybe I do have a father complex. That's a topic for another time ;). FYI, I am my dad's little princess, but i am not into calling someone Daddy. I am a Sir kind of girl.(∗´ര ᎑ ര`∗)

The whole time that I have been writing this, I have been thinking about 3 characters. 2 I will share, the 3rd will be mine to keep.

A grumpy man once called me an ADHD poster child. So expect I go in and out of topics. Chaos is my second name :P.

1.Nagato from Sesame salt and pudding. A very cute manga about Haruhi, a 22-year-old machine operator, who wakes up one day to find that she drunkenly married an older man the night before. They make a deal and end up living together. I don't remember much about it besides that he was a lovely grump and he took care of her. I remember him talking about his salt and pepper hair, and since then, whenever I see an attractive older guy with that hair, I am instantly in love. I can already imagine my friend sighing and thinking I am hopeless xD.

2.Jean Girardi by saagelius

Oh man, this is divine! I wish I could repost every piece of art about him. I just found out that there is an official fanfiction about him that I will definitely read today.

The first time I saw the art, I was captivated. It was exactly what I envisioned. I won't disclose any more; the images speak for themselves.

All I'm going to say here is that they confirmed my preference. It wasn't just a fantasy; it was what I truly liked and wanted...

Enough distraction!!! Man, these men make me a mess!!!

I adore the appearance of older men. They exude the warmth of a comforting embrace. A warm hug <3. They give off an aura of reliability, as if you could wholly surrender to them, entrusting them with complete control, knowing they understand what's best for you through their experience. they can guide and lead you. I find older men's natural protectiveness endearing, and their wrinkles and white hair are quite attractive to me.They embody qualities like patience, love, and a strong appreciation for women, thanks to their extensive life experiences. Regarding your second question, it seems I've already provided a broad answer. But let me elaborate. Older men make you feel heard and valued. They can also make you feel empowered with their guidance and mentorship. You can have genuine conversations with them. They usually handle things more carefully than younger men who are still learning.

Wow... well that was a long answer. I hope i didn't make you regret asking. well thank you for asking. This was really fun to write about.

[zhouxiangs]

10 BL Boys I Want Carnally

or as close to that as i can get, tagged by @bunnakit !

i had to look deep in my soul and tumblr gifs for this so please enjoy the boys, under a cut to keep the mystery alive for two more seconds

i am very ace so the concept is nebulous, let's just say i feel some type of way... and if you see me call these men my sons it's bc they are, ty for your time <3 also the order is kinda eehhhh general idea, i don't actually keep a mental list it took me hours to make this one 😭

10. pete (kiss me again/dark blue kiss)

do not ask me why idk either... there's just Something i can't explain. also it was between him and knock from together with me so i'm choosing the one that committed less crimes, anyway *holds him up like a potato* i just think he's neat

9. vegas (kinnporsche)

my little meow meow,, my explanation for most of these is just "do i not have eyes", but some (like vegas) are special jsjs in his case kp was the first thai bl i watched, as soon as he became remotely relevant i was obsessed with him and then a rewatch made me finally fall into thai bl as a whole so... thank you for your service

8. gong gil (the king and the clown)

my baby my darling my angel and the reason i even know about lee joongi, the actor i've been following the longest that i remember. i haven't watched tkatk in a while so i don't remember the details that well but i've always loved him, pretty sure he's my first bl boy too

7. xie'er (word of honor)

does he count? is this cheating? idc he's staying either way, MY XIE'ER 😭 will never get over him or his killer eyeliner

6. gaipa (moonlight chicken)

possibly the cutest 30yo man out there, that alone endeared me to him but also the way he is with his mother is just so 🥺 he's so special to me (also the fact that he's 30 AND cute as heck it's just so personal to me)

5. wen (moonlight chicken)

god i wish i could explain what he DOES TO MY BRAIN. some of it is the mix effect but i was normal about mix before wen so... he's so beautiful so magnetic i want to bite him

4. black (not me)

listen- he's my lil murder raccoon i know there's plenty of reasons for him to be as angry as he is for the 90% of his screen time and they're all sad but he's just so attractive like that (even though i'm more of a white girlie most of the time)

3. karan (cherry magic th)

i've only had him for two eps but if anything happened to him i would kill everyone in this room and then myself, etc. he's perfect and a nerd and i would love him for any of those two things alone, but they're combined into such a gentle beautiful (inside and out) and sensitive character i jsut love him so much

2. way (pit babe)

so i am definitely not babe, here supporting way's rights and wrongs from day 1. is he pretty? yes. is he evil? quite possibly. do i still want him? also yes. he hasn't touched me so pretty sure his big sad eyes are doing something. to me.

1. sand (only friends)

The Only Man, which is how my non bl friends know him bc i've apparently called him 'the only man i would like if i liked men' more than once ? HIM

special entry: tharn (the sign), yeah this one is definitely cheating

(using the only gif i've made of him so far which isn't great for this but...)

he's so tiny and efficient... like a fiat 500

if you see this and want to do it consider yourself tagged by me <3

[biscuits-of-bagend]

DnDoc, Artificial Intelligence #1 - Abduction

Previous stories: DnDoc, Coming Home DnDoc, Space Band DnDoc, A Man's a Man DnDoc, The God of Rock 'n' Roll DnDoc, The Loch o' the Lowes DnDoc, The Mushroom Planet DnDoc, The Flowers We'll Remember

---

One day, as they were heading for a murder mystery party in a volcano on the very tourist-y world of Anru, the TARDIS lurched to the side and started to screech her indignation at whatever was happening to her. Rogue staggered to the left and smacked his hip against the railing, but quickly steadied himself on his feet and looked around to see what the Doctor was doing about it.

   "Guys, help me," the Doctor said. Rogue and Ruby both darted to the console and waited for instructions. The Doctor looked at the controls in front of him with unblinking eyes. "Okay, you take that, Ruby. Turn that when I say. Rogue, I need you to hold down on these three buttons, use your foot if you have to."

   Rogue got to work doing what he said, trying his best to balance even though the TARDIS was still listing to the side every few seconds.

   "It's working, it's working!" the Doctor shouted. "Well, sort of. We're definitely going the way we want to, but whatever's dragging us isn't giving up. We're probably just going to end up off course from their intended destination. But that's good, means they won't know exactly where we are. Gives us time to figure out a plan."

   "This happened before?" Rogue grunted.

   "Oh, heinously often. It is so rude. I don't know why people won't just talk to me. You know how approachable I am."

   Rogue chuckled, but tried to stay focused on the task the Doctor had set him. It wasn't easy though, because the Doctor was wearing a light red knitted jumper over a tight lilac shirt with the sleeves of both rolled up to the elbows. Working this hard, he was very impressive.

   Eventually, the TARDIS came to a stop. The Doctor whispered to the console and the lights all turned off, so they had to feel along the railing to find their way to the main door.

   "Means we won't spill any light out into wherever we are," the Doctor whispered.

   The Doctor was in between Rogue and Ruby, and when he took Rogue's right hand in his left, Rogue assumed he was also taking Ruby's left hand in his right. That was very sweet, but meant he couldn’t open the door.

   "Shall I?" whispered Rogue.

   The Doctor listened for a moment, then said, "Yeah, I think the immediate coast is clear."

   Rogue pulled the door open, begging it not to creak. He was never sure if the TARDIS was doing that for effect or if her hinges genuinely always needed oiled.

   The space outside was dark. The three of them carefully exited the TARDIS, stepping onto a hard floor - maybe metal? Concrete? The Doctor kept hold of Ruby and Rogue's hands so they didn't get lost in the dark, then they walked forward into the murk. Gradually, their eyes got somewhat used to it. Rogue was sure one particular direction was offering greater visibility, so he tugged the Doctor's hand and led him that way.

   What they found was a jungle of computer equipment. Tall square blocks like mainframes or networks or something, row after row of them on either side of a wide aisle. If you looked to the left or right down one of the narrow alleys between rows, you could see little blinking lights and white text on the surfaces of the computers. The Doctor had them edge down one of these narrower alleys to see what they could see.

   There were numbers, lots of numbers, but also some words. The first word Rogue noticed was 'Art.' He stepped up to the screen he'd seen it on, zooming forwards like a magnet. But it turned out it was not its own word, but rather the start of the phrase 'Artificial Intelligence.'

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE BANK 3

RESOURCE AGENTS 31-40

   "You much of a hacker, Doctor?" asked Rogue.

   The Doctor shrugged. "I've found my way into some pretty closed circuits over my time. Not to mention I'm not supposed to know the code for UNIT's Time Window, since I'm not meant to know it exists."

   The Doctor frowned at the screen and tried to peer past the little white lines making up the letters. He had a look under the big blocky unit of electronics.

   "Hard to hack without a keyboard," said the Doctor.

   "Maybe it's like Alexa," said Ruby, though she said the word 'Alexa' extra quietly. Rogue had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

   "Could be voice activated, yeah," said the Doctor. Ah, that made more sense. The Doctor looked around the room, but there was silence. He frowned, and puffed out his chest slightly, and, still looking from side to side, said, "Hey, Alexa, play songs by Kylie Minogue."

   Silence, still.

   "Well, whoever's taken us, they have way less sense of fun than my last abductor." The Doctor winked at Rogue.

   Rogue gulped. "Slightly too tense to take that sort of joke right now, Doctor."

   "Ah, sorry," said the Doctor, giving Rogue's hand a quick squeeze.

   "No problem." Rogue kissed him on the side of the head, though absentmindedly, with screwed up eyes trying to see into the dark.

   "Hey, guys, I think she responded," said Ruby.

   "What?" The Doctor refocused his attention on the screen, which Ruby was pointing to.

RESOURCE AGENT ALEXA HOLT

INPUT: Play songs by Kylie Minogue

OUTPUT: Not known

   "Who the crap is Alexa Holt?" the Doctor muttered.

   Something new flashed up on the screen, as if to answer, but just at that moment there was a horrific crash a long way down the corridor. Rogue darted to the end of the alley and crouched down to the ground. He poked as little of his head out as he could and looked for the source.

   There was a hulking shadow at one end of the room. In a way, a shadow was good, because it meant there had to be light. But the only light forthcoming was a murky teal rectangle framing the huge, imposing figure. It was immediately shut out as the figure swung the door closed again.

   The next light Rogue saw was a laser beam flash an inch away from his nose.

---

Part 2

@off-traveling-in-the-stars @casavanse @monster-donut @randomwholocker (let me know at any point if you no longer wish to be tagged in each post especially since it's a new story)

[fillingthescrapbook]

Let's Talk About: Doctor Who and the 8-Episode Season

Okay, fine: there are nine episodes technically since they've labeled the Christmas special as the first episode. But what is up with the dwindling number of episodes per season? I don't know if it started with Capaldi's run or with Whittaker's… if I remember correctly, Matt Smith's run introduced breaks within the season…

Anyway--Where was I going with this?

Ah, yeah. The finale. "Empire of Death." It was emotional, it had a great pace, it hit the beats it needed to hit… But it did not have the power that previous Doctor Who finales had. (Granted, I've missed a few. Like the 98% of Jodie's run. I think I only saw four of her episodes. Or six? I just… It got too complicated for me. And I wish Jodie would get another run with a different showrunner because she was brilliant as Thirteen. Anyway, this aside went longer than I intended--)

"Empire of Death" did not have the emotional impact of previous Doctor Who episodes because we did not have enough episodes to spend with the Doctor and Ruby. I've seen a few comments online that say they don't have the best chemistry--I disagree. I think the two are electric together. Which makes me sad that we didn't have an episode where they had to oppose each other. Where they got to know what irks them about the other--and then they learned to co-exist despite those pet peeves. An episode where Rose Noble gets introduced to Ruby that isn't just a tacked-on dialogue in an already packed scene--one where we get an update as to why Ten-3 and Donna are nowhere to be seen lately, and one where we get more character growth for Rose.

I wanted an episode where the Doctor realizes how much Ruby is changing his outlook because of her need to reconnect her roots. And an episode where they find out why Ruby can summon snow--only to realize it has nothing to do with the season-long mystery.

I needed more episodes in the middle of the season for this finale to work the way it was intended to.

And I've griped about this before, I think. When I was talking about Minx. I don't know who has decided it was a good idea to cut out the filler episodes, but they were wrong. The filler episodes, when done right, make the plot-centric episodes more powerful. Because we get to know the characters more. Because the characters get to grow their relationship with each other. And, in turn, those relationships give more impact to the emotional highs of cliffhangers, and revelations, and finales.

I liked this recent season of Doctor Who. Ncuti is magnetic. Millie is enthralling. The supporting characters, especially Carla, Kate, and Mel, have been astounding. I'm not going to make any declarations about Mrs. Flood yet. The writing was hit or miss--but that's part of Doctor Who's charm. What isn't part of its charm is shortcuts.

And an eight-episode season is a shortcut.

I know the next season has already been filmed. I know there are only eight episodes again. Nine, counting the Christmas special later this year. I hope it plays out better--because we already have connections to Ruby and Ncuti's Doctor (I refuse to call him Fifteen. He's Fourteen to me, but I know calling him that will cause confusion.) But I also hope that Russel T. Davies--who was writing Season 3 as of a month and so ago--will also realize that more episodes mean more time to flesh out the relationships…and more time to love the characters.

We need more episodes like "The Empty Child" and "The Doctor Dances," "School Reunion" and "Fear Her," "The Shakespeare Code," "Human Nature," and "The Family of Blood." We need another "Midnight," and a "Planet of the Ood," a "Vincent and the Doctor," and "The Doctor's Wife." We could do with more "Time Heist" and "Knock Knock."

We need episodes that don't advance the plot but advances the characters' growth. Towards each other. Away from each other. I don't even care if it's just a detour and they go back to who they were in a previous episode. What matters is the characters learned something new about each other. What matters is that whatever happens at the end of the season, since it's the big reveal for the season-long mystery, we have emotional investment because of all the turns we took to get to the end.

So please, producers of television and streaming content: make more episodes. Filler is not the enemy. Especially when it comes to Doctor Who.

[urfavgirlsgirl]

WHAT'S A MANEATER?Discover if you're one🤍ྀིPART1

Hellooo Girliiiiess,I hope you doing alright reading this!Today we going to talk about a new term I personally feel so powerful using it, "Maneater".But please remember,explaining and talking about it doesn't mean that I'm encouraging girls to change the way they are and be it,its just good to know such stuff,also girls who are interested in this,this is for you,to master it :) While the term might sound a bit daunting, the essence of being a maneater is about embracing your own power and confidence to navigate relationships and interactions with grace and poise. Here’s an inside look at what makes a maneater tick and how you can channel some of that fierce energy into your own life!

What's a Maneater?

An irresistable woman who chews and spits out men after using them for some sort of gain be it sexual, financial or psychological.

At her core, a maneater is a woman who exudes confidence and independence, turning heads and capturing attention effortlessly. She’s the one everyone wants to be around—charismatic, fashionable, and unafraid of going after what she wants. But being a maneater isn’t just about looking the part; it’s about embracing a mindset that makes you the ultimate catch. Here’s how she does it:

1. Mastering the Art of Disappearing: The Power of Absence One of the maneater’s most intriguing traits is her ability to make a dramatic exit. Whether it's stepping away for a few days or even months, her absence creates a magnetic pull, leaving admirers yearning for her attention. This tactic isn’t about playing games; it’s about maintaining a sense of allure and making sure you’re always a little out of reach. When you’re not constantly available, people start to wonder what they’re missing and become even more invested in your presence.

2. The Art of Keeping Him Guessing A maneater knows that mystery is a powerful tool. When a man feels like he’s finally cracked the code and won you over, the challenge dissipates, and so might his interest. To keep him on his toes, remain slightly elusive. Make him feel as though he’s always striving to meet your high standards. This doesn’t mean being unkind or manipulative—it’s about maintaining a sense of excitement and challenge in your interactions.

3. Owning Your Confidence: The Maneater’s Mindset Confidence is the hallmark of a maneater. She’s not just self-assured; she’s downright unstoppable. She doesn’t let others’ opinions sway her or let jealousy cloud her judgment. Instead, she’s focused on her own goals and desires, knowing that she has nothing to prove to anyone. By prioritizing your own confidence and self-worth, you’ll naturally attract positive attention and admiration.

4. Flirting with Flair: Making Friends with a Twist Being a maneater also means knowing how to navigate friendships with men, even if it’s just on a platonic level. A maneater comfortably finds herself in the friend zone with ease, enjoying activities like watching sports or playing video games with guys. This isn’t about using friendship as a strategy; it’s about being genuinely yourself and showcasing your multifaceted personality. When you’re comfortable being one of the guys while still maintaining your feminine charm, you create an irresistible allure.

5. Navigating Relationships with Grace While the maneater’s traits can be empowering, it's crucial to balance them with empathy and authenticity. Maneating can become a dangerous habit if it leads to manipulation or emotional games. Instead, focus on using your confidence and charm to build genuine connections and make choices that reflect your true self.

The Maneater’s Guide: Confidence is Key

Incorporating some maneater traits into your life can be incredibly empowering. Embrace your confidence, maintain a little mystery, and always stay true to who you are. Remember, being a maneater isn’t about playing games; it’s about understanding your worth and using your unique qualities to navigate relationships and interactions with flair.Wait for PART 2,and let me know if this helps . 𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 💋⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

YOU WANT MORE OF SELF-IMPROVEMENT LESSONS?CHECK MY CUTIE BLOG:

[liminalmemories21]

I sent you ask a while back which you didn't want to answer at the time because spoilers. Maybe you just don't want to answer it, which is obviously fine, but just in case you forgot about it, I'll ask again. I reread the entire Knave series after you posted the latest installment and reading it all in one day, it kind of jumped out at me that Carlos is a really passive character in the series. TK is the one solving the mysteries, taking on the bad guys, kicking ass. Carlos just mostly waits for TK. Especially in the 3rd story. I kept waiting for Carlos to get involved or to solve something but he never does. This is not a criticism, I love the series, and your 2023 writing round up has me itching to read the entire series again, your writing and it's the relationship between TK and Carlos that is the best part of the series for me, the mystery and the art stuff is the wonderful icing on top. I'm just curious about why Carlos is mostly sitting on the sidelines. Was it just the way it worked out, or was it a deliberate writing choice, and if it was would you mind talking a little about why you made that decision?

Sorry, sorry! I have a curse where if a message gets marked as read my mind immediately forgets it. I have to keep messages open or marked as unread if I want any hope of remembering to answer them. My work computer is just a mass of open emails so I get annoyed enough by them to answer them.

So, firstly, thank you for reading. I'm glad you like the stories.

SPOILER SPACE for anyone who doesn't want to read further.

Secondly, it's an interesting question, and not one I'm quite sure how to answer. I don't think I'd considered Carlos as passive in the stories when I was writing them.

Someone in one of the comments on Knave 1 asked for TK running a con, which is honestly what I thought Knave 2 was going to be when I started writing it, but then it turned into something else entirely. But, I did want it to be about Carlos being good at his job - about putting the pieces together. Some of that was finding and understanding the clues that TK was leaving him, but some of it was also him figuring out what was suspect even before then. I wanted it to be about him knowing TK, which gave him the kind of faith he needed to believe in TK even in his absence.

But, on a broader level I also wanted Knave 2 to be about Carlos being in a place where he could have the kind of conversations with his parents that he hadn't been able to have when he was 17. And, he was in that place because of his relationship with TK, and the way that's evolved in the year he's been with TK and the way they've both grown together and can buttress each other when they need it.

Knave 2 was about Carlos's past, so I wanted Knave 3 to be about TK's past. And, I can see how Carlos might come off as passive in that context, because he is kind of waiting for TK to come home. He can't make that choice for TK, and he can't tell TK what to do, because that's not a kind of relationship that he wants.

The story is - on purpose - about TK making a decision to stay and making the commitment to his future, because I wanted it to mirror the S3 moment where TK goes all in on their relationship and chooses it with both hands and his whole heart. And that was going to look a little different in this universe, but I wanted Knave 3 to be about TK's past and TK's future with Carlos.

I think there's also something about the stories being from Carlos's POV that maybe feeds into some of the perception that maybe he's passive? He is fascinated by TK, because TK is magnetic (because he's a Neal Caffrey simulacrum). We don't necessarily get the way that TK sees Carlos because we aren't inside TK's head (I personally find getting inside TK's head incredibly hard, which is why I very rarely write TK POV). But I'm not sure I meant that to come off as things only happening to Carlos without agency.

I'm not sure if this really answers your question or not, but it has been interesting to examine what I was trying to do & whether or not I pulled it off, so thank you.

[ireallyamabear]

so i've been slowly watching Elementary season 6 and as I said I remembered the cases as being unbelievably stupid so here's my notes on the first 6 episodes.... spoilers for that seasons. also spoilers: I might have been too harsh on the season, but when it gets bad it gets BAD:

episode 1: An Infinite Capacity for Taking Pains

the case with the sex tapes is just utterly forgettable, but not offensive as a set up. tbh i already forgot if the murderer was the husband or the brother in the end… did they cast two people that look alike on purpose? Watson is so sweet in this episode, though. As far as I remember the whole traumatic brain injury thing gets resolved pretty easily and I think I was annoyed with that? I’ll have to track that. AND the set up with the serial killer! I totally forgot. Excited for that storyline!

episode 2: Once you’ve ruled out god

this episode is so convoluted they really put everything in it. physicists. lightening laser guns. smuggled plutonium from japan. it gets stolen. watson is the first to register radiation with an APP SHE DOWNLOADED ON HER PHONE. sure. sherlock recognises the gravel stuck on the van as the one used in one specific county in new york state??? i mean i guess he’s always had this kind of knowledge but this is the only clue that puts them on the trail of the robber and it’s just really lazy writing. he has a traumatic brain injury, but he’s still the gravel king. cool. THEN it turns out the robber is a white supremacist and wants to build a dirty bomb. kind of much more believable in 2023 than in 2018, i give them that. a nazi prison gang called PAIN. but they’re not racist they just love money. sherlock deduces that one guy can’t be a terrorist because of how he plays his tabletop campaigns. this is so fucking stupid.

oh wait its a heist?? the diamond thiefs plan was to steal plutonium make it seem like they’re going to explode a wmd just so they can cover their tracks? this is soooo fucking stupid. would have been better if the episode really was about a racist dutch gang. and THEN they have to have a 4 minute scene to explain the plot of the episode to that agent who has a dutch girlfriend (whahahahaaht) (and accuse him, because theres another twist of course) because they needed to explain the plot of the episode bc its so stupid.

i’m in tears this is the WORST episode of Elementary ever, even worse than that stupid case with the magnet in the elevator.

episode 3: Pushing Buttons

the death of the revolutionary war reenactor. actually a good case, not a nail biter but okay. kind of ridiculous that they just believed the daughter couldn’t have contacted some hitman because her commune doesn’t allow cellphones.

the scene where sherlock is in michaels office and he has his murder victims social media page open on the laptop is so good and really pushes the serial killer plot forward.

bargain bin jeff gold blum is a delight. all in all solid; but it does kind of use the same gimmick of old document is destroyed for property rights as the early episode where the old map that shows the border to the reservation … and that episodes case was better imo.

episode 4: Our time is up

watons old therapist gets murdered. starts out very intriguing. of course that one guys office is the only one in the city were you have a convenient balcony to jump from lol. “So you attempted suicide yesterday and … your boss is bringing you work.” Sherlock is so real for that. Anyway, the case is pretty average I’d say. kind of mid.

also, when Lin says to Watson “You’re the most complete person I’ve ever known.” … I love you Lin.

episode 5: Bits and pieces

really good case actually! of course the shock factor is the head Sherlock brings home. there were a lot of suspects but the mystery of first finding out who the dead body was was very good, then the intrigue with the flu infection. also one of those elementary episodes where you learn something, i.e. about the corpse selling industry. best episode case wise so far.

episode 6: Give me the finger

ok this case would be actually really good … IF THEY DIDN#T DO THE NUCLEAR THING AGAIN!! the spectre of stupid episode 2 is hanging over this season. wtf are they on about. i was so distracted that they involved this AGAIN and all those military personnel just freely talk about their classified systems with the cops? so fucking stupid. anyway, i never liked Hannah Gregson as a character and again I have totally forgotten everything about her and Michaels storyline? But I bet next episode is going to be a good one…

also, great shot:

In conclusion: most cases are actually pretty solid, there’s just one that is SO stupid that it overshadowed every other case in my mind for years lol. and the overarching plot line is REALLY good actually!

[hikarry]

Do you have any tips to make friends at school?

You sound so extroverted and enthusiastic

If I could steal 5% of that energy I would be going out rn instead of being locked in a library

Today I made it very clear that I have no idea how to make friends and that I'm 100% not an extrovert

I literally reached out to one of the most popular dudes in my course and asked "Can we be friends? 👉🏻👈🏻" like a 3 year old in kindergarten just for him to inform me we've been friends for 3 months! I don't know how to do it! It just kinda happens?

The last friend I actively remember making happened like: I was sitting behind him in French class. I thought he was cool as fuck but didn't have the guts to talk to him. (Im shy and a nervous wreck, okay?). One day our French professor said "yall, make pairs!" And he turned around and asked if he could sit with me. I said yes and we spent the rest of the class talking about memes. Then, when the class ended, I was leaving but he asked me to wait for him. We made each other company till the entrance of the faculty and when we were saying goodbye he hugged me and said "I've always thought you were so cool and was dying to actually meet you! Glad you're not an asshole!" And we've stuck together ever since then. We're literally having dinner out today. It just happened? We talked once and BAAM the vibes matched, I asked for his Instagram, he asked for my whatsapp and now we hangout and trade stupid whatsapp stickers

Also, I don't understand whatever image you guys have of me. Apparently I've cultivated an image in your imaginary that's a lie.

I'm not cool! I'm awkward and weird and just a lil guy that's way too obcessed with Good Omens! I'm nothing special nor intimidating. Some of YOU intimidate ME!

Sure, I can understand people irl at first thinking I'm cool. I'm the mysterious (clearly queer) guy with the blue short hair that's always sitting around with a book and a coffee. I can understand the mistake. But yall don't even see me! All I do is be my weird little self without restrictions in this little piece of paradise of mine

You want the truth? I have friends in the fandom, yes. A good portion of mutuals. But there's only one person from the fandom I talk to regularly! Not by choice, I would love to speak to more people too - not that I don't love @weasleywrinkles ! I do, mind you. Quite a lot! But, you see? I'm not the friend magnet you think I am

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

12.12.24 Thursday -- 2nd week of nana on her therapy... I hope INC or Church Of Christ who are my relatives and some invited fakers friends and mixed people will not harm my nana...

Is Mitch part of the mystery? She gave me a simple battery since 2007??? Mitch got so many followers???

The ritual did a crime on my nana last Thursday 11.28.24???

2:03 am

Still,have windblow...

Again,this will be the saddest if nana can't go back to her existence,knowing that some friends and relatives are part of the mystery...

Like these fakers Con2x Ma. Consolacion Herrera??? A tomboy friend that I met in Salitran Elem. School...Is she as well invited by my Biological Mother? Somewhere...

Did Crysette return today???

12:13 noon

Still,have windblow...

Still, waiting for Maco for her charity on me... Other friends as well....I'm thinking of money and job but it will be holiday season.. I'm waiting for next year.

I feel self-pity.. I wanna go back to gym... I wannna have a nose perfection. I wanna see mt cousin-white and how can I see my hero Daniel? I need a group to investigate...

Still,wanna smash the faces of Manalo'S group those Chiffon Organizers!

1:10 pm

Still,have windblow...

Bill Ease personnel left a calling card on Harold ( brother of Aunt Karen ) the man said RV got a loan for a year now... I just said just tell them the person is not here anymore but will relay this message... Harold sounded like he is putting a pressure on it that it is appearing that he is the one who got problems on that loan.I said just tell them you will relay the message... Awhile ago he looked like he was the one who got problems or he is worrying...

Bill Ease? LEONOR JACINTO STOP IT!! 70%It is Leonor Jacinto who is putting a chaos on my brother or us here...

3:36 pm

Still,have windblow...

I was watching "Dexter" imagine a police blood spatter and a killer of muderer can fall in love and very calm as always... Dexter is a tall guy, he loves Rita a shorty woman who has already 2 kids. Rita is somehow old-fashioned wifey, a decent old school mother. Then, Lila came into the scene a tall girl means got long legs ( like Manalo's and their favorite are long legs/ long-legged hating them so much!!!) and an artist, she is a painter and on program some kind of under cover on something... I'm already on Season 2!

Then, one time Rita and her mother insisted to bring Lila for a lunch or dinner with them... Rita was indirectly showed her jealousy but in a nice way that she wanted Dexter to bring Lila in their house to have lunch or dinner with them. Then,when Dexter brought Lila in the date meal with Rita and Rita's mother, Lila was mature she behaved well but was that real? Does a long legs, an artist, particularly a painter can be fair?

Dexter is still a man! Should I say boys will boys??? There is always a hidden horns and tails on them...

During high school I remember my high school friends, we usually say boys will boys, when someone's bf did something like cheating or being unafaithful...

Then, after the date meal with Lila, Rita wanted Dexter to stay with her overnight to have loving2x moment or sexcapades.But Dexter needs to go out for an hour he told Rita he couldn't stay. Then, after that Rita went to the place of Dexter which they talked awhile ago that she will go there after whatever activity that Dexter needs to do...

Rita is already in Dexter's place it shows that she loves Dexter and she is obviously sweetly jealous of Lila. So, when Rita was in the house of Dexter they gave each other magnetic kisses until they both led to Dexter's bedroom...

When Rita and Dexter were already starting caressing each other leading to supposed to be fucking each other,then suddenly the phone rang in the bedroom of Dexter. Guess who??? It was Lila,talking over the phone leaving him a message and telling something negative about Lila and mentioning something that they had spent overnight and Rita was extremely jealous and angry. She walked-out... The hot steamy sex for that night coz of Rita's sweet jealousy was changed into an extremely hatred emotion that Rita left him...

Then, Dexter went to Lila's place, it was raining...As far as I can remember it rained! It rained! Dexter got wet and Lila comforted him and Dexter didn't use any break...So, it was really an explosion, a steamy sex with Lila... A mind-blowing for Dexter it was as well a rock and roll for Lila... It is more than steamy sex, it was a twister or a tornado...

Then, after that, as far as I can remember, after the scenerio of Dexter and Lila had a super fire ball sex, when Dexter left Lila in Lila's place. Dexter was already preparing in his car,then suddenly Rita called him... Rita wanted a talk that she said sorry coz she didn't give him a chance to explain and Dexter was just quiet listening and said yeah! We should talk and he said to himself that the voices is back again...

My point here,why Dexter will still stick to his shorty Rita if he can still hear voices gets? It is insulting in my part....It means he was lost with Lila, he was into hallucination or high on his mental state but with shorty Rita, Dexter can always keep his sanity.... Gets? I'm not gonna stick with a super tall guy if he is lost with amazons...

In LOVE you shouldn't fake it!

5:12 pm

Still,have windblow...

7:54 pm

Still,have windblow...

There is still a part of me that I'm self-pitying... I feel self-pity... I wanna see my cousin white in blood and flesh not just term to call cousin if he is your bf but not blood related...

Here in the Philippines sometimes we are calling our bf's as cousin or brother but there are some different kinds of being a brother. It is just weird right? But the usual, if Filipinose read the classic English stories,like what I said it is a special case sometimes if you end up with your actual first cousin. There are some "family rules & etiquette"... I explained here on my previous entries...

I always need to stretch coz I still have sciatica,there is still pain... I feel self-pity... Can't afford gym and chiropractor... I can't buy new exercise equipment.

10:49 pm

Still, have windblow...

Drinking coffee... Done,showering....Still, panicking coz I don't have a salary. My final pay will be blown by the wind, in a lil while...

I still feel frustrated angels on so many angles of my life. Sometimes I feel super ugly, I don't know why...

[deleahtarte]

Episode Bradley Fisher [ Young God (a little death) Chapter 6 ]

Summary: Bradley’s first impression of Kenny

Note: Since we were talking about Bradley, I figured now’s the time to release this short! It’s not much, but I figured it’s like an appetizer since we’ll be in Bradley’s head soon

Butters preferred guys who are blonde.

It was an assumption, but not one made without any proof. Every magazine Butters stared at featured men whose hair was so blonde it almost looked white. But Butters didn’t want it to be white, he wanted a soft blonde with no brassy undertones and no hint of grey. It was a complicated color to reach.

Bradley is born blonde, but not the right shade. His is an unflattering yellow that makes it look borderline brown in the sun. Because of that fact alone, he has a shoebox full of brightening masks, products for color-treated hair, and shampoo with chamomile for blond hair. Being the Blonde Butters wanted demands a certain investment.

So, when he first laid eyes on Kenny and found that he possessed hair the exact shade of blonde Butters liked—he wondered if he had to do what Bradley did, too. If Kenny had to dedicate 3 hours out of every two weeks to dye his roots so it looks as if his hair was natural. Or if he was simply born that way. But then, he began to wonder if Butters had only liked this shade of hair because it was Kenny’s. Either or did not make Bradley happy.

Kenny McCormick, as Bradley easily found out, is the resident playboy of South Park. He’s an inferno, a fire that burns so hot it draws all the oxygen from the room. There's no question as to how he's been able to have any girl, anytime, anywhere. There's an exciting magnetism to him that Bradley has never seen present in any other being he’s come across, one that is especially non existent in himself.

He’s funny, adventurous, and has the kind of tempting charm not a lot of people have the power to resist. And to add on top of that, he’s mysterious and devastatingly handsome to boot. Those were not exaggerated praises either, they all came from the mouths of girls who were more than happy to answer his questions.

“Kenny?” His classmate from 6 period perked up upon the mention of the name. “Oh, he’s a sweetheart. Probably the easiest person to get along with out of that group. He knows everyone just like how everyone knows him. You’ll like him!”

“You sound so confident.” He pointed out.

“Because I am.” She replied easily, crossing her arms. “Unless you’re, you know, one of the boyfriends of the girls he slept with.”

A playboy with a habit of visiting plenty of beds. Now isn’t that something?

No matter how many times he asked, or how many ways he did, all good words were spoken for Kenny. He’s talented in soccer, they say. The life of the party, one exclaimed. He’s reclusive when he wants to be, and his skills in bed are—well, Bradley won’t finish that sentence.

It didn’t take long at all from him to put two and two together. That the boy who Butters had a crush on from even back then was the same boy he’s looking at right now.

Kenny glares at him from across the lunch table, most likely wishing Bradley would drop dead from a heart attack here and now. He’s so possessive over Butters it was almost comical. They didn’t even have a proper conversation with each other and Bradley knew. He ought to say he’s never had anyone dislike him so strongly or out right until now. He could almost laugh.

There’s a girl by his side who clings to his arms, and Bradley has to fight the constant urge to shake her off. She had gotten too comfortable far too quickly. But he couldn’t do that, because gentlemen don’t do that. And Butters deserved a gentleman. Bradley remembered that’s what he wanted.

“Bradley, you have to come to Token’s party. It’s like, the best party in all of South Park. No, all of Colorado.” A girl with blonde hair exclaims. His eyes slide to Butters to gauge his reaction. Would Butters be there? Did Butters like people who go to parties?

“She’s exaggerating.” Token chimed in. Bradley still couldn’t figure out Butters feelings from studying his expression, which leaves Bradley one option. “It’s just like any other party, but you can come if you want, dude.”

Pretending to have to think about it, Bradley turns to to look Butters straight on. It makes him nervous, he won’t front. Something about looking at the object of your affections dead on when you’ve only been staring at him through a picture in your wallet will do that to you. “Will you be there, Butters?”

Immediately after the question is out, Bradley could see Kenny visibly tense up. Butters too, seemed to hesitate at his answer. “Um…Sure. Yes, I’ll be there.”

It’s settled. “Then I’ll be there.”

Stan turns to Kenny. “What about y—“

“I’m going.” Kenny said, cutting his friend off. Then he coughs, and more casually this time mends his tone, “I mean, yeah of course I’ll be there.”

Everything Kenny felt towards Bradley was clear on his face. He’s practically an open book, at this point. Bradley has to avert his eyes or risk laughing in the guys face, which he could only imagine would piss a guy like Kenny off more. People say he can be impassive and quiet, but so far, Bradley has seen none of that.

When he calms himself enough to look back, Butters is whispering something into Kenny’s ears.

Bradley has to look away once again, for an entire different reason, this time.

[bambisnc]

magnetic [or, riize when they have a crush on you <3]

pairing : ot7 x reader! genre : crack + fluffff cw/tw : food mention + littol bit rushed n uneditted D: wc : im guessing maybe 400ish? -> update its 495!

shotaro : he would be SO chill you probably wouldn't have a single clue if he had a crush on you; ever so gentlemanly and charming on a daily basis, he'd probably flirt here and there but make it seem so easy and effortless </3 BUT on the other hand i totally also see taro going out of his way to impress his crush and have their attention on him by flaunting those extremely admirable performance skills of his (among numerous others!!)

eunseok : laid back king. (quote unquote) in his case also, you would not be aware of his feelings despite him dropping hints left and right but his expression is somehow always just so ... unreadable?!?! seems all cool and collected but he's secretly one of those people who'd ananlyse each and every word you say to him/text you send like "they sent me a heart emoji..... they want me fr......." he isn't wrong to be fair, but still-

sungchan : he'd be so !! enthusiastic around you !! hyperactive af, if he has a crush it'd be pretty obvious; he wants it to be known honestly. needs the person who has captured his heart to know it + would for sure do all that he can to spend as much time with you as he can, get into all the extra curriculars or hobbies you're into; basically the type of guy to watch one piece in like 2 days max if his crush is into anime yk?

wonbin : u guys remember the "he wanted to appear mysterious" comment from the official acc on that one tiktok ?? yeah he for sure would want to appear all distant, reserved and have and air of mystique around him + he's lowkey good with just admiring you from a distance (complete opposite of a certain someone, yes) + you would probably catch him staring at you across rooms rather often and blushing and looking away if you happen to catch his wandering gaze .. <3

seunghan : ah yes our resident hopeless romantic daydreamer extraordinaire 𖹭 i so see him lost in thoughts and fantasies, with a wide array of scenarios featuring his beloved (you) and him like 25/8 it's definitely obvious that he likes someone to everyone around him.. + the cutest when trying to interact with his crush, would pull out the most adorably awkward compliments and the cutest (slightly cringey) pick-up lines but the sheer earnestness he does it with is so swoon-worthy </3

sohee : the playful one !! think teasing remarks, a number of not so subtly implied ideas of verily not platonic acts but he's able to get away with keeping the crush a secret with how well established he'd ensure himself as being a "really good friend".. also definitely one of the clingiest ones; would want to be near his person as much as he can and if he can't you just know he's spam calling/texting them - he just wants to ensure that he's on your mind okay?!

anton : cutie is going to be such a bundle of nerves, the classic nervous, shy, blushy type !1!1 he'd lose his composure around you so often and end up tripping on thin air on numerous occasions; but on the other hand, him not being able to think very clearly around you would also mean that he end up doing rather bold things such as those which he'd never catch himself doing normally + wouldn't mind being in uncomfy situations to be able to support/comfort you ,,

notes : we're so back (school hates me) + kyssing its been 2 days and i spelt THE TITLE WRONG + [m.list] song rec : this time i want you, you, you , you like it's magnetic - illit <3

𐙚 . tags : @nicholasluvbot @totheseok ⋆