#i might make it a point to finish coloring this one after i'm done with this current comic tbh

[archonghoul]

Back at it again with a small peek at a wip over on my pat//r3on, featuring AfterDeath! 💔🖤💦

[foodfightnovelization]

More Foodfight! Material DISCOVERED

That's right, I'm back. Just like I prophesized in my last post, yet another treasure trove of Foodfight! goodness has been uncovered, and this might be one of the strangest to date...that's right, official Foodfight! Cinnamon Sleuth Cereal was sold at Albertsons back in 2007, over five years before the movie finally came out!

Okay, not really, but I had you going for a second, right? So, this IS a proposed packaging design for actual Cinnamon Sleuth cereal, but it never went into production, it never made it to stores and there was certainly never any actual cereal to be eaten. This, among several other designs and a collection of behind the scenes material, was sent in recently by a Foodfight! crewmember, who explained they were mockups created to show off possible tie-in products. I'm not sure why they chose Albertsons for these mockups but it's likely they were in talks with them at the time and wanted to show off designs including their branding. In any case, I just had the Cinnamon Sleuth box printed because I thought it'd look cool next to my collection of Foodfight! merchandise, and I wanted to see if anyone would be convinced this really existed.

I've included all the designs above in case you want to print your own- there are several more including another cereal, brownie packaging and milk cartons. Curiously, the milk cartons have Farmland Dairy logos on them, with Farmland Milk actually appearing in the finished film at several points. I'd say this confirms my theory these mockups were created to show to companies they were already actively working on deals with, but I can't say for certain that was the case.

Equally curious are these character sheets from 2002, seemingly showing off almost every model created during early production. There are so many fascinating layers to this- Sunshine is still a human instead of a catgirl, showcasing a very different model to the one seen in the initial trailer, and Maximilius Moose is still a dog named Panzer Pup, both aspects that were changed once the decision was made to change Dex to a dog. However, it may be that Dex's human design was edited out and replaced after the fact, given Dex's model here appears to be the one from the finished film (you can tell by the weird hands). In any case, it's fascinating to get a closer look at all these characters- while the majority of the models for the main cast were found recently (see my last post for more on this), there are a bunch of side characters here we've only seen brief glimpses of before, including the Pringles man and the scantily-clad Cherry Waifer. The most fascinating to me however are the Red and Yellow M&Ms- I've read through their scene in the movie's script, I've seen multiple versions of the storyboard, even rough layout animation in the workprint, and it's only now I'm FINALLY getting to see their actual character models and how they would've looked in the Foodfight! artstyle. Sure, they more or less look exactly as they did in M&M commercials that aired around the same time, but it's still amazing to actually see these characters modelled and rendered after analyzing so many different iterations of the scene as it went through development.

The crewmember in question also sent a folder containing over a hundred stills which while at first glance appear to be from the finished movie, are actually subtly different in multiple ways- usually lighting, facial expressions, or background textures like the sky or color of a hill. A lot of these are labelled "fix" which makes me speculate if after the movie was completed, the crew went back and tried to touch up the animation to make it look more appealing before release. Is there a slightly better looking version of Foodfight! somewhere out there in the world? Who knows, but really it would've been like trying to polish a turd. The movie was already ruined by then, and I don't think any number small changes would've done much to salvage it. However, that does bring me to my next interesting point...

There are also storyboards dated May 2011, depicting an alternate opening to the movie giving a much more cinematic introduction to the main characters. It's crazy to think they were still working on storyboards so late in production, but there IS actually a reason for this. I unfortunately can't upload the entire sequence due to this site's image limit, but what you might notice are a lot of characters being described as "flying over the audience", "flying into the camera" or knocking things "into the audience", with some of the boards having "(3D)" written in parenthesis next to them. It's my belief that very late into production, Kasanoff wanted the movie to be 3D, made popular by the then-recent Avatar, and this new opening sequence full of flashy 3D effects was drawn up to show off what they could do with the technology. It's not clear if any of this was ever actually animated, but imagine going to see a movie that advertises itself as 3D but only the first minute contains any 3D elements. Of course, Kasanoff requesting this is only speculation on my part, but given how the movie was ruined by the crew having to cater to his whim of directing the whole thing with motion capture (made popular by the then-recent Polar Express) it's no stretch to assume the 3D opening sequence was a similar situation.

There's a ton more that was sent to us as well, so much so that I could never hope to talk about all of it. However, it should be on archive.org at the time of writing this if it isn't already, and you can now access everything Foodfight! related through the official Foodfight! collection on there!

That's right, so much Foodfight! material has been uploaded over the past year that the Internet Archive gave it its own archive, allowing you to find everything in one convenient place (including my scans of the novelization and Deluxe Sound Storybook). It'll also be updated periodically whenever something new is found, so it'll always be the home to all things Foodfight!. Whether you're wanting to take a look at some concept art shown in ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight, read through an early draft of the script, or check out something I've talked about on my blog, it's all here at your fingertips.

I don't think there's ever really going to be an end to the depth of the Foodfight! rabbithole. I thought I was done a year ago when I finished analyzing the novelization, and look at everything that's been found since then. Every time I think I'm out, this movie pulls me back in. So...in my next post I'll FINALLY show off my collection of Foodfight! merchandise and talk about what this movie means to me, but that doesn't mean it's the end for this blog. Whenever I say I'm done with Foodfight! I end up jinxing it, so if I try to conclude things now in a few months some CD will show up with a bunch of lost footage on it, I'll get mailed concept art of a bunch of characters we've never seen before, or it'll turn out Larry Kasanoff was actually D.B. Cooper the whole time. So as long as there's something new to discuss, as long as there's a Foodfight to be fought, I'll keep updating this blog from now until forever. You better duck when they launch the cream pies!

[hurts2think]

saw you wanted hook x reader requests so i thought i'd send smth in!! can you do hook x gn light fairy? like from the tinkerbell movies! love your stories <33

🏴‍☠️Young!James Hook x Reader🏴‍☠️

Reader pronouns: They/them

Pairing: Young!James Hook x GN!Reader

Plot: You are a light fairy from Pixie Hollow who started attending Merlin Academy! Due to your fairy like magic, you were set to help decorate for Castlecoming. But you became a little distracted with it and your hooked boyfriend had to come convince you to prepare yourself for the dance.

Word count: 1.6k

Extra: I was going to do this one sooner but I struggled so hard to think of a plot for it. Super cute idea though! Thank you so much as always🫶

Castlecoming only happened once a year, and it was also your first Castlecoming. For most of highschool you lived in Pixie Hollow with all of the other fairies and so naturally you had the typical fairy schooling. Which didn't consist of much traditional education and more like being trained in your special skill. And yours was light.

It always sounds kind of lame at first when you say it, but it's actually pretty nice to have. Being able to move light beams, rainbows, and have glowing hands whenever you wanted made for some fun party tricks and even got you a spot in helping out with the theatre department pretty often. Helping with lights and making the set look just a little more colorful.

And now, for Castlecoming, you were helping decorate for it. You helped with some of the planning but you were also going to come in after the basic preparations were done and put your own finishing touches just a couple hours before the dance.

You started inside where the food and most of the dancing would be, moving the moonlight in the window to twist and turn in unnatural ways that would reflect off of the colorful glass decorations and filling the entire room with colors.

Then you moved on to the garden that a few of the couples would be hanging out after dancing or just to get away from the crowd.

You opened the palm of your hand and little speckles of light started to appear in it, you then tossed them into the air and little star shaped lights hung in the trees, making the garden glow softly.

You decided another batch of those might be better since it was still quite hard to see. So you open your palm and speck by speck a little light appeared in your hand but before they could all finish even forming, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

The sudden touch made you jump and let out a yelp. You quickly turned on your heel, throwing your hand up in defense

"Ow—!"

The source of the hand yelped in pain. It was your boyfriend! James Hook. Your boyfriend that you accidentally just casted a dozen lights in his eyes.

"Oh my gosh! James! I'm so sorry, are you okay?" You quickly ask, covering your mouth in shock as you clearly did not mean to do that.

He held one hand over his eyes as he stumbled back, "It's fine, I'm fine." He grunted, obvious his eyes stung and were in fact not fine.

Once he was able to stand up straight his eyes fluttered open and closed until he could somewhat see again. Then when you could conclude that he was okay, you gently hit his shoulder, "Why would you sneak up on me? Were you trying to scare me and get your eyes burned off?" You scold, your eyes narrowing.

"No!" He quickly defended, "Well, yes actually. I was trying to scare you. But I didn't think you'd be armed!" He huffed before waving his hand to dismiss it, "Nevermind. What are you even doing?" He asked, raising a brow.

It was pretty usual for Hook to sneak up on you. 50% of the time it would end with him laughing at you and teasing you about it for the next hour, and the other 50% would end with him somehow getting hurt and then immediately trying to dismiss it out of embarrassment.

"What do you mean? I told you I was helping decorate. And there's not really a point in me doing all of the lights before it's night, then I'd just have to reset everything." You sigh, restarting with the specks of light in your hand and tossing the second batch into the trees again.

You turn back to Hook, now being able to properly see him in the light

He tilted his head slightly and raised a brow, "Castlecoming is in an hour. You should be getting ready, yeah?" He asked, taking a couple steps closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him.

You could feel heat rising to your face as he pressed himself against you, forcing you to break eye contact, "Yeah but I'm not done. It needs to be perfect."

You try to pull away but he didn't let you escape to easily.

He spun you around, catching you in his arms again with a grin, "But if you're late, who will I dance with?"

A smile couldn't help but find its way on your face, "You're not ready either! We'd both be late." You chuckle, taking Hook by his hook for a hand and tugging on it slightly in a playful manner.

"I s'pose you're right. But we both know you take forever to get ready."

"Not true!" You rebut, letting go of him and pulling away, "I'll just be a minute longer, I swear. Just a couple more things!"

But just as you turned away, you felt that hand snake up onto your waist again from behind as your boyfriend rested his chin on your shoulder, "You've been stressed about this for months, darling. No need to be stressed up til the last minute. Part of the fun is getting ready. Bring your camera and we'll take pictures before the dance." He suggests. You're not looking at his face but you can tell he brought out those eyes that were impossible to resist. You turn your head to look at him and you were right.

Only it was worse, the light glowing from the trees shined on his eyes, making them twinkle.

You finally let out a defeated sigh, "Fine."

"Another win for me." He grinned, obviously proud of himself for convincing you, "I'll see you in an hour, bug."

You roll your eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not a bug! I'm a fairy." You insist but he's already walking away from you to go get ready himself. He was lucky his accent was so attractive. He could say anything and you'd swoon.

----

Only an hour had past and you were ready. You got ready as quickly as you could, styling your hair and putting on your outfit for the dance. As a final last decision, you place teeny tiny specks of light into the seams of your clothes to make them shimmer and glow.

You also decide to let your wings out, sprinkling some pixie dust on them incase you needed to fly, and just to make them look a little prettier. You smile at yourself in the mirror before checking the time and realizing you're about to be late.

You rush out of your dorm and to the party.

Once you're there you see a couple friends, saying hi to them and complimenting how nice they look. But you were in a rush to find one person and one person only.

You had to push yourself through all the people who's dresses and suits glowed under your stary lights you put up. Even the pond in the garden shined like never before.

There he was, sitting on a bench and fidgeting with his Hook as if he was nervous.

The way the lights shined on his skin and against his hair was beautiful, his pirate inspired suit made you swoon, and the nervous look on his face made your heart race.

Once he saw you in the corner of his eye, his head suddenly perked up and he took no time to stand up and approach you, "Wow, you look..." He slowly looked you up and down, taking his time to really look at all of you, "Ravishing." He grinned, admiring how you looked. Sparkling in the dark, making everyone and everything around you a little brighter.

You laughed and brought him into a hug, "As do you," you smile, "You weren't nervous while waiting for me, were you?" You ask with a teasing smirk.

His hand fell down to your hip and he scoffed, "Me? Nervous? I'm a pirate of the Neverland Seas. We don't get nervous." He said though he really did sound like maybe he was just a little nervous. It was your first dance together afterall.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't be so worried." You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking into his eyes, causing his face to flush a slight red.

"I think you're the one worried. Worried that I might be the better looking one tonight," He gave a teasing wink and leaned in to kiss you.

But before he could, you teasingly push his face away, "Hey! You don't get to say that and think you're allowed to kiss me afterwards," You raise a brow with a smirk.

"Alright, alright. You're the better looking one." He admitted, "But I do have better charisma." He smirked, gripping your waist firmly and pulling you into a dip, kissing you on the lips.

It caught you a little off guard but you kissed back, smiling into the kiss. As you kissed, Hook teasingly and carefully dragged his hook across your wings. The action made you shiver and instinct I've push him away, "Stop that." You demand, though you didn't actually mind. It just tickled.

"Fine, I'm sorry." He smirked, pushing his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it.

That only tickled too, making you laugh, "You're lucky I love you so much. Or I'd seriously knock some sense into you." You threaten playfully.

"Awe, the little fairy's gonna knock some sense into me? I believe it." Hook sarcastically remarks.

The playful banter is what you lived for. It's what made this all so fun. Highschool here was always better than at Pixie Hollow. You had friends, real classes that you were actually interested in, fun dances, and an amazing boyfriend. Your life really felt perfect for once.

Your slow dance by the glittering pond with your favorite person made you know that you made the right decision being here rather than anywhere else in the universe.

[marsbutterfly]

HELLO MARSLYN 😈

idk if you’ve done this already.. but could i have some dating headcanons for hanma? 🥹 ilysm

a/n: HELLO BITCHLYN <3 I am so sorry this has taken me so long BUT I finally finally finished this <3 I was going to make it all very sweet and fluffy then the smut came out. oh well, it is what it is hehe

Dating Shuji Hanma 𓈒∘☁︎

warnings: fem!reader, mentions of the following - blood, knives, bruises, violence, smoking and some creepy ppl at first, some anxiety if you squint. NSFW, oral sex (m! receiving), multiple creampies, no breeding kink tho. not proof read cuz i'm depressed 🫶🏻

𓈒∘☁︎ You "first" met Hanma by accident. It was a simple summer day, you were on your way back from class when a group of men stopped you on the street. Their faces were some you had never seen before, even though you walked the same path everyday.

𓈒∘☁︎ A smile crept on the biggest one's face and you could feel the blood nearly draining from your face and yet, your heart was beating so fast. A fear you had never felt before as they take a few steps closer, nearly pressing you against the wall.

𓈒∘☁︎ You don't have time to scream for help because, before you even realize, a shadowy figure is already on top of them. A slim boy with duo color hair throws punches around in such speed you have never seen before. He laughs a deranged laugh and you notice that he is mostly using his right hand, yelling something about "punishing assholes."

𓈒∘☁︎ Once all the creeps who cornered you are on the ground, a mess between bloody noses, swollen eyes and missing teeth, the boy turns to look at you. Splatters of red across his face as he walks closer, his left fingers rubbing his right knuckles.

𓈒∘☁︎ "Are you alright?" He asks, a blank expression on his face while his eyes give you a puzzling look that you can't quite decipher.

𓈒∘☁︎ "I think so," your voice cracks, hands shaking lightly as he walks closer. After a few seconds of examining his face, you realize you have met him before. In fact, it was a face you were maybe too familiar with, "Shuji?"

𓈒∘☁︎ The right side of his lip curls into a smirk and he raises an eyebrow, "I go by Hanma now, it's more intimidating!"

𓈒∘☁︎ After that, the two of you began spending more time together. While you weren't thrilled with his ways of getting what he wanted, you still accompanied him wherever he went. The gas station on the corner where he would threaten to beat the owner if he didn't give him a pack of cigarettes (of course you would pay the poor man behind his back)

𓈒∘☁︎ Or when he would bring you to the gang's hideout and listen for hours as he instigated the boys to punch each other (it became common for you to mend battered knuckles and accessing injuries)

𓈒∘☁︎ However, he could also be very romantic when he wanted to be. Like when he would take you out to dinner, though not typically to restaurants since he was banned from most of them, he would insist on taking you out for a night bike ride, the smell of the ocean mixing with the smell of whatever takeout food you ordered.

𓈒∘☁︎ You would spend hours sitting by the sea, the sand getting in between your toes after he splashed some water onto your feet. The cold breeze against your face and the sweetness of his lips against yours after eating dessert.

𓈒∘☁︎ He will bring out a deck of cars and insist on playing for a chance to see your boobies, he cheats and wins every time of course but he will deny it like his life depends on it if you call him out.

𓈒∘☁︎ I think he is caring in his own personal way. Even though he might sometimes get himself busted up pretty badly, he would never, EVER put your life in danger, willingly or not.

𓈒∘☁︎ I feel like he might also have a "special talent" though I'm not sure what it would be. Maybe he is really good at doing your makeup since his eyeliner is so on point.

𓈒∘☁︎ Or maybe he is really good at drawing and keeps leaving silly, little pictures around your house for you to find when you are away from him. Some are drawings of hearts, some are gory as fuck. Who knows what you'll find next time?

𓈒∘☁︎ He is very protective of you. Like, any man who gets too close or even looks in your direction, gets a stern look or maybe even a knife to the throat when you look away.

𓈒∘☁︎ The idea of having you all to himself makes him go crazy. He gets hard with the slightest of touches, and when he feels your mouth around his cock? He feels like he could bust a nut with the simply breeze of your warm breath.

𓈒∘☁︎ He loves it when you have your "bad girl moments", when you push his against his back and get on your knees, moving your hair out of your face to give yourself better access to his already throbbing cock.

𓈒∘☁︎ Oh, and he is obsessed with your pussy. The way he fills you up, the way you move your hips against him, the way he fucks you so hard his balls actually come in contact with your clit.

𓈒∘☁︎ He gets easily drunk on the scent of your sweaty skin mixed with his, the pool of your juices sliding down your legs towards the ground. Oh, how he loves the sounds you make.

𓈒∘☁︎ Also his pull out game is immaculate. The man has never worn a condom in his life, but every so often he will give into the temptation and release all of his cum inside of you. He will do it until you are dripping.

𓈒∘☁︎ Then he immediately goes out and buys like, three boxes of plan B. idk, the man knows the consequences to his actions.

𓈒∘☁︎ Oh and to finish this off, did I mention that he definitely asked you out by beating a bunch of guys up and either using their blood or displaying their bodies to form up the words: be my gf? because he did.

[katsheadinclouds]

Romance

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: The night is always easier for Javier when he's with you, even if it means thinking about the possibility of ending up alone. Maybe this time he's done running away from happiness.

warnings: secret relationship, smutty happenings and thoughts, mild angst, smoking, mention of drinking, hopeful ending, no pronouns for reader, no use of y/n, reader is a blank canvas. Not beta read! If I forgot something, please let me know.

word count: 2.4k

notes: The happiest of birthdays to Jo, undercoverpena 💛💛💛 I hope you've had the most amazing time celebrating and I'm wishing you the best on this new trip around the sun. You've written one of my favorite fics ever and to be on this platform and reading the art that you share has been a massive privilege. Thank you for making this fandom feel safe. You gave me this lovely tan color called desert sands as my chosen shade on your birthday bash roulette and my mind went immediately to our man Javier and one of the shirts he wears. I hope you, and anyone else who might read this, enjoy your time with this fic.

dividers by saradika

In the night, Javier stands by the open window. The sounds from the street come in through it, an ambulance and police cars with their sirens blaring make his heart thump uncomfortably in his chest. The cigarette between his fingers smolders bright, the smoke burns in his lungs, yet he relies on it like nothing else could understand him fully.

He’s pouring his stress into it. The already aching muscles irritated from chasing after people who Javier knows are always two steps ahead of them and their efforts to stop the violence. His gun in its holster, unceremoniously laying on the floor, is a reminder of the violence he’s feeding into. What other option does he have? Anything and everything they do, he does, never seems to be enough.

You stir in your sleep. Javier’s tan shirt is resting on your shoulders. It doesn’t cover your bare skin below your hips. Javier pulls another breath of smoke into his lungs, and then one more, while watching your slumber. Your back rises and falls in a slow rhythm, peaceful, far away from the stress and adrenaline you both carry at work every day.

You shouldn’t have asked him to come home with you that one evening a few months ago after a night out at a bar. You shouldn’t have gotten the courage to make a move. You shouldn’t have wrapped your lips around the cigarette he was smoking, still between his fingers, your eyes glued to his when you thanked him for sharing his smoke.

You shouldn’t have touched his thigh under the table with your hand, shown him what you wanted from him. And you certainly shouldn’t have wrapped your lips around him, kneeling on your bedroom floor, your eyes adoring every inch of him. Your hands on him. His hands in your hair, unable to resist your advantages.

You act like nothing ever happens between the two of you outside of work. You wish him and Steve good morning when you see each other in passing. You ask if they got one of the hundreds of memos they receive every day. You wish them a good night at the end of the workday, ready to go home after endless hours in the stuffy office. You’re always around, but you keep your distance.

“I’m being professional,” you said after that hours long fuck fest fueled by stress in the safety of your bedroom. “We’re colleagues. Nothing is going to change.”

Yet everything has changed. Javier comes to visit every night after work when he’s in the city. You open the door for him without questions, you don’t even ask him to come around anymore. It’s an unsaid agreement at this point.

He knocks once, then two times fast, and finishes with one more knock to let you know that it’s him, no one else. You don’t ask who it is, you don’t hesitate to open the door. You just do and let him slip in, your hand always catching his to stop him from escaping from your reach.

The kiss to welcome him in is gentle, a single touch of your lips against his. You offer him a drink, the thick rimmed tumblers always available next to the amber colored whiskey. It’s also an unsaid agreement that he’s there only to have sex. Nothing more. You don’t deny him, you never tell him to stop, you only want more, and you always give more.

“I would let you do whatever you wanted to me. I would let you have me in any way you want,” you said in the afterglow of your release. Your pupils were blown black, and your breath was still out of your reach. Your legs trembled when you tried to get off his lap, off him.

Javier’s hands squeezed your thighs, either to steady you or to keep you deeply seated on his cock for a while longer. It was well past the hours of the early morning; your alarm was going to go off soon. You would curse at him for coming by after midnight, but you would still open the door for him the next time when he got to yours as late, or even later.

“In any way, hm?”

“Whatever you like,” you hugged yourself around him, your knees against his ribs, and he was screwed.

Javier wanted to believe that the words set all his nerve endings on fire because you were still stuffed full of him. That because you spread yourself open for him every time he came around, the words only had a physical meaning.

You absorbed the nausea he had in the pit of his stomach, somehow mixed with the anticipation of having you at the end of the day. You were someone he learned to trust. He could always come to yours no matter what. He could always rely on you to catch him. You always opened the door, and you never denied him access to you.

The offer was too tempting. Javier tipped you on the bed and kept himself lodged inside of you. Your limbs were weak and pliant. You closed your eyes when he ran his hands down your sides, admiring your figure, the curves where his hands fit perfectly on your waist. You emptied your lungs when he pulled out of you, spilling your mixed releases on your sheets.  

You inhaled the heavy air of your bedroom in preparation. One last breath before he’d pin you under himself. Before his lips attached to your sternum.

Tasting you was like coming home. Feeling you squirm under him in anticipation was exciting. Hearing you whine his name was intoxicating. He didn’t need drugs. He had you.

You came on his tongue buried deep in your folds, sucking, playing with you, taking you to the edge over and over until Javier decided when you had had enough. Your thighs were glued to his shoulders, your heels against his shoulder blades. You ground against his mouth, your hands holding onto his hair, pulling him in, and pulling him off you at the same time. Even when the pleasure crossed the line of too much, you still stayed put and lost your breath with another high as his moustache gathered the slick from you like he was saving it for later.

“You shouldn’t say that.” Javier muttered when you got out of the shower. He was sprawled with his legs out on your bed, watching you. You had outrun the moon without a moment of true rest, and the sun had caught up to you, ending the night with its first rays.

Your legs were unstable still and you couldn’t balance on your other foot when you pulled a fresh pair of panties on. You leaned against your vanity and stumbled through dressing yourself.

“I meant it.” When the door closed after you, leaving him to sleep in your bed, the words sunk in. He wasn’t just screwed. He was ruthlessly in over his head.

Javier had already risked it all for desire, but risking opening up was another thing completely. You observed him in ways he wasn’t aware of. You saw him in ways that others didn’t, in the safety of your bed, in his most vulnerable, in his most rageful.

You saw his quietness in the tenderness he showed you. You took it all out of him, one kiss at a time, forcing him to breathe and put the pressure to the side for an hour or few. You took him apart in ways that made him comfortable in his skin, but uncomfortable in ways that you adored him. With your eyes, with your words, with your gentle hands as you undressed him and showed him slowness.

When your hands pulled off his body and left him needing, you gave Javier all the control. He could feel the goosebumps against your heated skin, caress the pebbles of your nipples and hear your shaking inhales and exhales.

His lips on your stomach, on the sensitivity of your inner thighs, smell you dripping against your panties and touch you in the most lewd ways you probably ever had allowed anyone to touch. Your gasps and moans vibrated in his spine and made him painfully hard. Every time, without a question, you edged him without doing it intentionally.

And in the night, Javier could take you slow, take you apart one push of his hips at a time. One moan at a time. One run of your wet lips against his jaw and neck at a time until your kisses would only be little gasps as your high rushed him to reach his release soon after you.  

And he could take you hard, borderline ferociously, your hands trying to hold onto him, your nails scratching against his back until imprints of small half moons would litter his shoulder blades and the back of his neck. He would have them for days, and he would do it again, just to have his skin remember your cries of pleasure that he forced down his own throat to not let you wake up the neighbors.

It was impossible for Javier to stop it. Stop you from wanting him, stop himself from letting you. He watched you act like it didn’t mean anything, like it was just the two of you looking for a release. He heard your promise of this not changing anything over and over again in his head but saw that you had changed in every way possible after letting him in your bed.

“Tell me something about yourself,” you once asked while playing with a curl on his forehead and cracked your own promise into pieces.

“What’s there to tell,” he answered, and you dropped the topic immediately. The disappointment radiated off you in waves, but you hid it in licking your tongue against his, not caring about the friction of his moustache against your upper lip.

His intentions were never cruel, not to you, or to himself. Yet he was like a monster, coming back to you without you asking him to. To himself for letting him knock that pattern on your door.

You sigh in your sleep. Javier stumps the burned cigarette into a bowl and closes the window. Your naked leg is warm with his fingers gliding up against it, the back of your knee still damp from staying with your cheek pressed against the mattress, available for him on your knees for as long as he wanted.

He tilts his head the higher his hand rises. Your skin bursts with shivers when his fingers caress the roundness of your thigh and dips between them. He drags his hand against the crease under your ass, the meatiness of the muscle as his hand continues its exploration of your body, the curve of your hip, and under his shirt.

It’s easy to peel off you. Javier’s sweat still clings to it from the day. Your sweat clings to it from the night. He’s not sure when you had put it on. He only woke up to see you covered in it. He reveals the softness of your stomach, the shape of your waist, the underside of your breast. He draws a line with his thumb there.

Your eyes are open, watching him. Your face is half crumbled against your pillow, the worn out linen of your pillowcase. You’re somewhere between dream and wakefulness.

“Come back to sleep,” you whisper, your throat thick with sleep and the remnants of him. Javier moves the shirt off your shoulder to press his lips there. You sigh, relax against his mouth and move enough to give him space to follow you to the easiness of rest. Your hand follows the scrapes from your nails that are still fresh and tender. Your cold fingers look for the warmth of his skin, the burn you left there.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, already slipping away from him in his arms. You’re pulling him under with you, the sleep in your scent intoxicating. You lean in a little closer until you’re glued against him. Javier would want to push you away if you knew what he was thinking.

The hope of a future. He has it in his arms.

It would be the easier choice to let you go. When this is all over, when this terror is done, it would be easiest to end this. You don’t deserve the pain he has convinced he always causes.

Yet underneath there’s a promise of the other side. He’d take you out. He wouldn’t let this relationship stay hidden inside the four walls of your bedroom anymore. His imagination runs rampant with the images of himself in public with you.

To see you smile under the sun, with your hand in his with people around. Your voice in his ear when you tell him about everything and nothing, not just you sighing out his name in the dead of night. He would’ve never guessed ending up in Colombia also meant meeting you. Meeting the possibility of a next day that isn’t full of violence and loneliness.  

“You,” Javier breathes into your hair. The slow rhythm under his palm against your ribcage is proof enough that you’re not listening.

He would tell you who he is eventually. He’ll answer who he was before all this, before you stepped into his life and turned it upside down. He’ll let you see him in daylight, not only in the moonlight that smooths out all the edges, regrets and flaws. He’ll let you in on the good and the ugly, the person he, too, sometimes wants to turn his back to.

He’ll tell you about how he grew up too quick, too sorrowful, missing the family he didn’t have anymore. It’s just him, his dad and the house he once called home. Now it’s filled with stories he cherishes in the silence of his own memory.

Javier will forgive himself eventually. For thinking the worst of himself, for needing you to get away from him. He’ll keep on pretending though, with you, that nothing has changed. And this is just a mutual contract of desire.

“I want you to know,” he says into the glowing orange of your bedroom without any sound, the move of his mouth registering in the muscles of his face. He lets the weight of your body drag him over the border of sleep, melt against you and taste the sweetness of bliss.

[blueskittlesart]

Hi, I’m a huge fan of your art and I wanted to know a little bit about your comics. About how long does it take you to make one, and how do you stay efficient about it? Also, how do you decide which parts are black, which are white, and which are gray? And are any parts of the process particularly difficult? I think it’s really beautiful how you can get so much across in your comics without crowding too much in each panel, like in manga for example. Also how most of them are entirely black and white. I’m asking all of this because I have a story I’ve written, and I want to turn it into a comic, which I’ve done before. But I’ve always become discouraged when I overshoot and make it way too detailed from the beginning and not be able to get that same amount of quality with more complicated panels. Thanks if you answer this.

HIIII. so the time that it takes to do like one page of comic varies for me depending on the level of finish i put into it, but i'd say not counting the scriptwriting or layout, the actual art for one page usually takes between 1-2 hours to finish. any more than that is too much for me, personally, but one of the things i've learned at art school is that i work INSANELY abnormally fast, so that kind of pace might not be sustainable for you. (i'm currently doing 5 pages a week for my thesis which is the kind of pace that kills people. it might kill me. we'll see.)

my best advice for b/w/g placement is to have an idea of what you want your finished panel/page to look like BEFORE you start drawing it. if you're just drawing the lineart and then filling in the black and gray after the fact, it's going to be much more difficult and you're going to run into problems like tangents and legibility issues with your color placement. especially when working with a limited palette, knowing roughly where each color will go before even beginning the project helps a lot. I'd also suggest trying to limit your use of gray to like, 3 tones max. I usually only use 1 or 2 if i use gray at all. this helps keep things in high-contrast and therefore more legible. Line weight is also especially important when you're only doing black and white, because it helps create depth and ground us in space when there's no color to do so. in general, don't be afraid to go for big blocks of black, but try to think about where and why you're using them!

As for your comment about overshooting, my advice is to ration. we joke sometimes about how manga artists will use a much more simplified style up until like, a big climactic scene and then suddenly lock in, but that's a genuinely useful tactic sometimes. You don't necessarily need a background in every panel if the background isn't the focus of a scene, and that leaves more energy for you to go all out when you DO need a big fancy establishing shot or some complex perspective or whatever. obviously you shouldn't just be totally phoning it in on less complex panels, but don't try to kill yourself over the less important details. focus on what's most important to get your point across in whatever situation you're working with!

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Sneek peak)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your track record with trying to survive is a checkered one. This is a red spot among the black and white.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, forced murder? Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.0k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Chapter 66: Go for the Throat

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner. 

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; this one is white with red splotch on the cheeks, not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. Like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is black and a generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. Hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things. Rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet, you take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away- before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill, it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill, emotionless and analytic. it being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it perfectly or cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Only now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweet worship. How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, you know how to use it. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps light as a butterfly’s wings. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

Coming Saturday February 3rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[amorpaints]

Love at First Paint: A Beginner's Guide to Painting

"Almond Blossom" by Vincent van Gogh (1853 - 1890), Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, February 1890

Have you ever dreamed of being like Picasso or Vincent Van Gogh? If you do, you are looking at the wrong blog because I am far from them. But hey there! I'm Eden Amor, a freshman student and a self-taught artist who just loves to paint.

Art has been my passion since I was a kid, and as I grew older, I fell even more in love with it and started trying out different mediums and styles. But there's just something about painting that really excites me! I started with graphite, then moved on to colored pencils, and even dabbled in charcoal (although I never got around to using those charcoal pencils I ordered online). Finally, I found my true love in watercolors, and I've been obsessed with working with wet mediums ever since!

If you are a beginner in painting (like me, have been a skill of a beginner for years), you can enjoy my blog and get some tips that I learned from my starting journey. But if you are just interested in painting or in art generally, you can still read this blog.

Just a disclaimer: I am no expert and just a self-taught artist. Some things might work for me and not for you, and vice versa, so take this blog with a grain of salt.

LEARN ABOUT PAINTING

Since I am a self-taught artist myself, I never applied for workshops in drawing or painting. But most of my art knowledge is from YouTube tutorials, shorts, and IG reels (I have no TikTok, I don’t know why). I suggest learning about the basics before painting whatever you want because you’ll get disappointed after the result or wondering why everything is not working the way you wanted. 

But before anything else, find the medium that you want. Mediums like acrylic, oil, gouache, and watercolor. There might be more but these four are some of the common wet mediums. One thing to address about these mediums is that they all have different properties and the techniques you’ll approach, the materials you’ll use, and the finish or outcome of the painting will depend on the medium. 

MEDIUMS

Watercolor

My recommendation for anyone wanting to start painting with no experience is to use watercolors. The only things you need are watercolor paint and water. Unlike acrylic paint, which, although water-based, can get pretty messy and dries quickly, giving you little time to blend and touch up unless you use an acrylic medium called Retarder, which is a medium that you mix with the paint to slow its drying time, but will cost you more. So, as simple as watercolor can be, it's a great starting point for a beginner in painting. 

However, watercolor painting can be tricky when it comes to water manipulation. The amount of water your brush holds affects in creating an even layer of paint. The drying time takes hours, especially if you are working in layers, if you paint the still-damp surface too early, you will ruin everything and you cannot cover it up since watercolor is transparent. That is why watercolor painting is done light-to-dark because dark colors cannot be covered by light colors. So planning ahead of time is suggested and should not paint with watercolor impulsively.

Acrylic

If you want to take the next level or just explore other mediums, acrylic painting is great for high coverage and textures. What watercolor doesn’t have but acrylic has is the ability to cover mistakes. In acrylic painting, you can paint on top of a painting, which is great especially if you change your mind or decide to start all over again, as long you coat more than one layer of white paint then you have a blank canvas again.

However acrylic paint, as said earlier, dries quickly which can be a disadvantage if you are a slow painter (like me) and especially if you are making a seamless gradient, which is very difficult to achieve and not as easy as you think. Since acrylic is water-based, cleaning is very easy with just water as long as the paint is still wet. Hardened paints can be peeled off easily but only on smooth surfaces, but if you got it on something like fabric, it will be forever on it.

Gouache

I describe gouache (pronounced as ‘goo-aash’) as a combination of watercolor and acrylic. Because like watercolor, gouache is water-activated paint, which means that dried paints can be revived and used the paint again when wet. And just like acrylic, gouache has high coverage and a thick consistency which is great for texture. But unlike acrylic, which has a glossy finish, the gouache creates a matte finish once the paint is dry and it also dries fast giving you no more time for creating flawless gradients.

I use gouache for mini projects, or creating art trends I saw online, but I don’t recommend it for painting a big major project since it can be smudge once wet, and as of now, I don’t know if there’s an appropriate varnish for gouache so if you have any idea please let me know in the comment section.

Oil

The most expensive of the four mentioned paint mediums is oil paint. However, oil paint creates the most realistic paintings. Despite its high cost, what makes me love oil paint is how smoothly the paintbrush glides, like butter. Blending oil paint is very easy, and you can create flawless gradients between colors. Oil paint has a very slow drying time. For small projects, such as those the size of half a sheet of bond paper, it can take days to weeks to fully dry and be ready for varnish. This slow drying time can be both an advantage and a disadvantage, depending on the complexity of your painting. It allows you to fix mistakes or make adjustments even the next day. Additionally, a small amount of oil paint goes a long way.

Oil painting can be hazardous because it involves flammable oil-based paints, as well as mediums like thinner and linseed oil. While water is used to dilute watercolor, gouache, and acrylic paints, oil paint requires the use of thinner. It's important to avoid washing oil paintbrushes with water, as it can damage the brushes and won't effectively remove the paint. Additionally, it's crucial to store oil paints, thinner, and linseed oil away from sources of heat and fire.

Since I am only new to oil painting, I cannot give much in-depth information about it and if you do please I beg for some advice and tips in oil painting.

Materials in Painting

Painting can be an expensive hobby given that the materials used (especially the branded ones) are not really as cheap as a pencil and a piece of paper. But aside from being a painter, I am also a cheapskate. 

I will never buy an art supply that is as expensive as my kidney, UNLESS if it is worth it or I can make money out of it. I don’t really have all the money to buy all the art supplies I want, I am still dependent on my parents and have no job yet (currently at college, 18, and an irresponsible young adult). 

That is why I chose to buy art supplies online instead from the art stores near my place. And I think as a beginner, expensive materials are unnecessary because for me an artist should be able to make a masterpiece with his/her skill and not the tools. But that doesn’t mean the quality of materials will not make a difference. So if you are the same as me, you can use my tips.

Paint

The paints I use are not of great quality, but they are good enough. I honestly thought that some of the paints I bought were much better than the pricier ones. 

In watercolor, there are two common types: in the tubes and in the pans. The tubed paints have a consistency of acrylic, unlike the ones in the pans, which are hardened. What I have is the Superior Watercolor in pans set. I bought them online for less than $10, and it is a set of 18 colors with a brush pen and sponge included. The quality is great, it is not chalky, and it doesn’t smudge once dried. I spent my money wisely, and I do not regret buying it even though $10 is already a lot to me.

When it comes to acrylic and oil paint, I suggest buying the primary colors (ultramarine blue, crimson red, cadmium yellow), titanium white, black, and magenta only. I highly suggest buying a large amount of white because you’ll need it most of the time. Buying a set is very costly, but with these 6 colors, you can create any color, save money, and at the same time improve color-matching skills, which is an essential skill as a painter. If you wonder why I added magenta, it is because the combination of red and white is not bright enough to be pink or it is just different from the color magenta, and I think having magenta in the collection is a good addition. I used the Mont Marte brand in acrylic and Marie’s for oil paint.

Paintbrush

There are different shapes of brushes: flat, round, filbert, and detail are the commonly used shapes, and it depends on the medium you are using. For watercolor, a round brush is recommended, and a flat brush is recommended for thick paints like acrylic and oil paint. A filbert brush is also a flat brush, but the trim is round, and it is good for painting clouds. A detailed brush is used for small details like painting dots and thin lines or for small paintings. There are more shapes of brushes out there, but having a variety of brushes can be overwhelming. Get only the brushes you need and have them in sizes small, medium, and large. The size of the brush will depend on how small or big your painting is. Using the appropriate shape and size of the brush will lessen your expenses and you’ll learn to depend more on your skills than the tools.

There are cheap but not too cheap brushes available online. They are not branded, but the quality is good enough (like the ones I use), and the bristles don’t come off easily.

Paper

We can paint on anything, but nothing beats paper. However, the paper used in painting is not just an ordinary paper. The thickness of the paper used in painting, particularly watercolor paper, is important so that the paint would not easily destroy it.

Watercolor paper is usually combined with cotton, making it more durable than regular paper or cardstock. The percentage of cotton in the paper varies as the price varies. It is recommended to use 200 gsm paper, which is what I have because it is affordable and good enough to hold a few layers of paint.

However, I highly recommend using 300 gsm paper because the 200 gsm papers I use still curl up or bend and get wavy, which is a hassle when painting. The higher quality, 300gsm paper or paper containing 100% cotton is easier to work with, as I have observed online, even without taping the paper down, it doesn’t curl up. But of course, high-quality paper costs more, so 200 gsm paper is good enough.

If you are wondering why I called the paper used in painting "watercolor paper," it's because you can also use watercolor paper for acrylic, gouache, and oil painting.

There are two types of watercolor paper:

Cold Press - Cold-pressed watercolor paper has a rough texture, which is great for watercolor painting because it gives more depth to the flat painting (water is water, they can't have shapes and textures like acrylic).

Hot Press - The hot-pressed one is recommended for thick paints because it has a fine, smooth surface, which is great for blending smoothly.

Aside from paper, you can also use canvas paper, stretched canvas, or a canvas panel for thick paints. However, since you are only starting in painting, paper is recommended for practice and is much cheaper than the canvas mentioned above.

OTHERS

Masking Tape

Why masking tape? It is used for tapping down the edges of the watercolor paper so it stays put and flat on the surface which makes painting much easier, and also it creates a clean border. You may see other artists use washi tape because they are less sticky and won't damage the paper once it is peeled off, but I think using washi tape costs more, instead, stick first the ordinary masking tape onto your clothes until it becomes less sticky, and then you are good to go.

Mixing Palette

Usually in watercolor paint sets, the lid of the container serves as the palette. However, when using thick paints like acrylic or oil, a better alternative to a traditional paint palette is a picture frame. Mixing paint on a glass surface is convenient for two reasons: (a) it is smooth and does not absorb the paint, and (b) it is easy to clean. Dried acrylic or oil paint can be easily peeled off the glass or scraped with a blade or glass scraper, leaving a fresh and clean surface for mixing. Additionally, the wood or plastic frame around the glass provides protection against breakage and sharp edges.

Towel/Tissue

A used towel or tissue is not only used for cleaning; it is also mainly used for soaking up the excess water on a brush or for wiping off the excess paint. It is very handy, so you should always have it by your side while painting.

Jar

A brush washer is a must-have for painting. This is where you wash off the paint with water from the brush. You can use an old cup or jar as a brush washer instead of buying the fancy ones which is unnecessary. I prefer using a jar because it is heavier than a regular plastic cup, which prevents it from tumbling or spilling. 

Here's a tip I learned from YouTube: use two brush washers. When you wash your brush once in a single container, the water gets muddy. This can make your fresh paint muddy when you switch colors. To prevent this, wash your brush twice: once in the first container and then again in the second container. This ensures that the water picked up by your brush is clean and not muddy.

ART STYLE

Early in my painting journey, I started practicing by painting scenic landscapes because they seemed easy to me. Of course, I overestimated myself. So I continued practicing more. Painting nature has grown on me, and I realized that my genre is landscape painting. The good thing about it is there is less structure unlike a portrait of a person, and shapes are organic so I will have no problem with imperfections. 

However, I still don’t have the ability to create my own work. I still have to watch tutorials online to have a guide. Most of my artworks were tutored by the artists I follow. Once I start painting with just a reference from Pinterest, I tend to get lost and suddenly don’t know what to do. I end up not continuing the work, which is a waste of time, energy, and material.

Lately, I returned to working with watercolor, but instead of nature, I used a reference photo of a person as a subject. Sketching the face first is my least favorite part, because if I mess up sketching the face, the whole painting is also a mess. Most of my subjects are K-pop idols, especially BTS, because I am also an ARMY! Working with faces is difficult but once you succeed, it is all worth it. 

Social media has highly influenced my art style. The fact that I get envious whenever I see new art trends gives me a push and inspires me to continue doing my art and explore more.

Check Out These Artists I Follow

Correa Art

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@CorreaArt

Instagram: instagram.com/correaart_

Jess Chung

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@JessChungArt

Instagram: instagram.com/jesschungart

Emily Mackey Art

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@EmilyMackeyArt

Instagram: instagram.com/emilymackeyar

Genelyn Sandaga

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@GenelynSandaga

Instagram: instagram.com/genelyn_sandaga

Socials

If you want to know more about my art, you can visit and support my two Instagram accounts:

@ChiliCheeseLover

@paintwith_amore

💜💜💜

If you have feedback to share, please do! I am eager to hear your thoughts. If not, kindly give this blog a heart; it is greatly appreciated!

💜💜💜

[hunny-bean]

Sugar & Spice

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank likes you best in blue. Happy Anniversary!

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Obnoxiously Fluffy at Times, Lingerie, Teasing, Light Bondage, Kinda Mean Frank, Sub Reader. Ok, I think that's it! Let me know if I missed one.

A/N: Needless to say, I'm expanding my comfort zone. I added a splash of mechanic!frank because he's a guilty pleasure of mine. Sorry if he's a little OOC, it's hard to imagine Frank untraumatized and in a happy relationship. Anyway, I hope this turned out alright. Enjoy! Let me know what you think! XOXO.

P.S. I'm open to requests, if you've got any cool ideas! I love writing, but I have experienced writer's block many times before, so I may need a little assistance at some point. I'll write for any Jon Bernthal character as well as a plethora of others that I don't have time to list. If you want to ask for another character, just take a gamble and I'll let you know if I can do it! Also, nothing immoral or illegal, please. Sorry for the insanely long author's note.

You may proceed :)

Read on AO3

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

'Curse this stupid lighting,' you thought, examining your makeup in the floor-length mirror. The dim yellow light bulb in Frank's walk-in closet was seriously throwing off your perception of colors. For example, you were pretty sure your blush was looking natural and sweet, but there was always that slim chance you would look like a clown in a different room.

You were tragically forced into the closet by the sound of Frank's keys rattling in the lock. Before that, you had been enjoying the luxury of a bathroom counter. Unfortunately, Frank only had one toilet and you figured he might need it, so you grabbed your bag and sprinted to the closet the second he opened the door. Under no circumstances would you let Frank catch even the slightest glimpse of you. At least, not until you were finished getting ready. You were planning a surprise, after all.

When Frank finally got home, he instantly knew something was off. Usually, when you spent the night with him (which was most nights), you'd come meet him at the door whenever he finished up at the garage. You'd slide through the kitchen in your fuzzy socks to give him a hug and a kiss and ask how his day was. It had become such a routine for the two of you, that when it didn't happen, his first thought was that you weren't there at all.

Frank pulled his boots off and hung up his jacket before wandering into the kitchen to see if you had left a note. Maybe your roommate had another "crisis," he thought, or you had to make a quick run to the grocery store. Finding nothing, he grew slightly concerned. It was very unlike you to just take off without so much as a text explaining why.

Then, Frank heard a faint rustling noise coming from the bedroom. He smiled softly, all of his previous worries evaporating as he went down the hall to see what you were up to. You were probably just taking a nap, he thought, but when he got to the bedroom, you were still nowhere to be found. Frank was just about to try calling you when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the light on under the closet door.

"Hey, baby. You in there?" he asked, knocking gently.

"Be out in a minute!" you called back, fluffing your curls that you barely got done before he showed up.

"Whatcha doin' in the closet?" Frank asked, and even through the door you could hear the amusement in his voice.

"It's a surprise," you replied deviously.

"Come on, darlin', you know I hate surprises," Frank griped.

"You'll like this one, I promise," you proclaimed. "Just be patient."

Frank sighed dramatically. "I wanna see you," he grumbled. Smiling, you meticulously straightened the bow you added to pin two small sections of your hair behind your head.

"Oh, trust me," you muttered. "You will."

Taking a step back, you admired your full body in the mirror. You had bought this underwear set a while ago, and were just waiting for the right occasion to use it. It was a beautiful baby blue color, and it hugged your body perfectly. The bra was a short, sheer corset top that showcased your cleavage without being too obnoxious. The panties were soft and lacy, pulled up high in the sides to accentuate your hips. They weren't quite a thong, but they certainly came close. Decorating both pieces were small embroidered cornflowers that made you feel pretty and delicate. On top of it all was an elegant lace robe that you somehow managed to find in the exact same color. It was almost completely see-through and it barely brushed your mid thigh, so you weren't worried about it obscuring any of your best assets.

You looked good. There was no denying that. In fact, you couldn't think of a time you'd ever looked better. You just hoped Frank's heart was strong enough to withstand the sight of you.

Quickly, you added your finishing touches, brushing on your favorite lip gloss and putting in a pair of dainty diamond earrings that Frank got you for Valentine's Day that year. You gave yourself one more once-over in the mirror. Everything was perfect. At long last, you were ready to execute your master plan.

You were a little nervous, but what you were about to pull off wouldn't work if you let it show, even just a little bit. With that in mind, you took a few deep breaths and rolled your shoulders back. Holding your head up high, you slowly opened the closet door.

When you stepped out into the bedroom, you found Frank laying on top of the covers with his arms positioned behind his head and one leg propped up. He was barely doing anything, and still he was the picture of dominance. Even while wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, he looked incredible. In fact, just seeing him was enough to have you fantasizing about crawling on top of him and hiding your face in his chest. But alas, you could not. You had to stay strong.

As soon as Frank saw you, his eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning. He immediately sat up straight, looking utterly dazzled. It seemed you were right. This was one surprise he could get behind.

"Do you like it?" you asked beguilingly. You gave him a small spin, showing off all the intricate details.

"That's the stupidest question you've ever asked, sweetheart," Frank replied, rising to meet you across the room. "You're a fuckin' angel."

He pulled you in by your waist to leave a soft peck on your lips. Seeing his mouth shine with your lip gloss when he pulled away made your heart skip a beat. You weren't always a possessive person, but that changed when you discovered what it felt like to leave your mark on someone. Especially someone as desirable as Frank Castle.

"Happy anniversary, baby," Frank drawled sweetly.

"Happy anniversary." You were sure you were smiling like an idiot, but you couldn't help it. You and Frank had been together for four years now, and it felt like the shortest lifetime you'd ever experienced. The love you felt for the man in front of you was stronger than anything you had ever felt before, and you knew in your heart that would never change.

Frank wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back in for another kiss, this one considerably longer than the last. The two of you stood there for a while, making out while your hands explored the familiar planes of each other's bodies. Frank was fucking your mouth slowly with his tongue, kissing you like a promise in the way he knew made your knees weak. You almost gave up on the plan right then and there, but your excitement for what was to come later that night saved you from falling into the trap.

You reached a hand down between you to palm at Frank's growing erection. You heard him let out a low hum, and you felt the vibrations travel from his chest through yours, relaxing you from the inside out. It didn't take long for him to start pushing back against your warm hand, seeking some relief, but he didn't find any. . .

because that was when you stopped moving. You pulled away from the kiss, keeping your hand perfectly still and looking up at him sweetly through your eyelashes.

"What time is it?" you inquired, focusing all your energy into keeping a straight, innocent face.

"Uh. . . 'bout 6:30?" Frank was obviously not thrilled that you had stopped kissing him to ask that of all things. 'Perfect,' you thought maliciously. Unable to fight it any longer, a sly, excited smile slowly overtook your face.

"It's dinner time," you whispered.

Before he could react, you slipped out of Frank's grasp and sauntered away to the kitchen. You went straight to the pantry to gather everything you would need to make spaghetti and garlic bread, and set it on the counter next to the stove.

When Frank was finished staring blankly at the wall, mystified, he joined you in the kitchen to find you filling up a pot with water at the sink. He crept up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

"What'd you do that for, hmm?" He was using a voice that you were all too familiar with. It was the voice he used when he wanted something from you, and most days it had you folding instantly. He sounded so condescending, and it was playing right into your more submissive side. He was being an asshole, but he was just such a hot asshole, and somehow it always. freaking. worked.

Except it wouldn't work today. You would make sure of it.

"Go sit down, Frankie," you requested, gesturing to the bar behind the sink.

"Dinner can wait a little while. Your tomatoes aren't gonna go bad in an hour, sweetheart." You shut off the faucet and tried to move over to the stove, but Frank tightened his hold on you, refusing to let you go.

"I'm hungry," you complained.

"So am I," Frank teased, making sure you could feel the proof of his statement pressed up against you. You rolled your eyes at how audible his stupid smirk was.

"I'm trying to make us a special anniversary dinner. Now go sit down, Frank."

Frank knew you weren't actually upset with him, and he wasn't stupid so he knew what you were doing. You weren't stupid either, so you knew he secretly liked it. You were having a competition, and you couldn't wait to finally beat your insufferably headstrong boyfriend at a game of wills. All you had to do to win was hold out until you were finished eating, and this time around you had some tricks up your sleeve.

Frank groaned defeatedly. No matter how much he wanted you, his chivalrous upbringing prevented him from denying his lady what she wanted. So, he gave in and trudged around the counter to sit on the barstool across from the sink. You could feel his eyes following you as you went about making your dinner. His gaze was burning holes all over your body, heating up your core and exhilarating your mind. Every movement you made was intentional, perfectly executed in a way that kept Frank on edge and his jeans too tight.

When you needed something from the lower cabinets, you would bend over to show off your panties, and the fabric would stretch tighter around the swell of your ass. When you needed something from the top cabinets, you would stand on your tiptoes and stretch to reach it, revealing more of your tummy and causing the underwire to push your chest out a little further. While you were reading from the recipe book, you would "absent-mindedly" twirl your hair around your fingers or lean forward on the counter, subtly arching your back.

Once, when you were finished blending your home-made spaghetti sauce and it was heating up on the stove, you dipped a finger in the pot and delicately licked it clean. You didn't look at Frank while you did it because you're sure you would have laughed at how ridiculous it was, but you knew he saw it (and liked it) from his small frustrated sigh.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, semi-sarcastically.

"Nope!" you replied happily, dropping your handful of dry spaghetti in the boiling water.

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." You smiled at him, walking past the bar to put your leftover garlic in the pantry on the other side.

As you were walking back, you failed to notice Frank had hopped to the barstool closest to you until he had already sprung his attack. Lightning fast, he snatched you up and pulled you towards him, slipping a hand under your robe to grab at your ass and wrapping the other around your waist to hold you still. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt him shudder and tighten his grip as he inhaled deeply. The special occasion perfume you wore never failed to drive him wild.

"It's just that I feel so useless sitting over here, doing nothing," he purred, his lips tracing patterns across your collarbone.

"You're definitely not doing nothing," you mumbled.

"That right? What am I doin' then, hmm?"

When you didn't respond, Frank slid his hand away from your ass and dragged two of his fingers gently over the lace covering your arousal. When he drew his hand back and held it up, you saw his fingers were significantly shinier than they were before. That was the biggest downside to fancy underwear. Sure, they look nice, but they do nothing to absorb moisture.

"Is that what I'm doing?" You nodded. "Yeah? But I've just been sitting here," Frank teased.

'Goddammit,' you thought. 'How did I ever think I could make it past dinner with this asshole?'

"Know what I think? I think you just like attention. You put on a show for whoever's watching and you get soaked right through, is that it?" He moved his hand back down to start rubbing gentle circles on your clit through the fabric.

"No, I don't," you fussed, pushing at Frank's bicep to try and dislodge his hand. He just pressed down harder, making you desperately wish you could squeeze your thighs together and grind on his fingers until you were dripping on the floor.

"No? Then what is it, sweetheart? What's got you so wet, huh?"

"Just you," you mumbled. "Just your attention."

"Yeah? That's sweet, baby. Well if this is all my fault, then I should do somethin' about it, shouldn't I?"

Unable to fight back any longer, you nodded. The ache in your core was running too deep, and the relief Frank promised seemed more satisfying than any victory possibly could. Grinning dangerously, Frank released you and stood up before pulling you back into a feverish kiss. You got so lost in the contact that you didn't realize Frank was pushing you until your back hit the counter.

Suddenly, Frank's hands traveled down to settle on your upper thighs. This was a signal you were all too familiar with. Barely a second after you felt it, you jumped, wrapping your legs around him as he set you down on the counter.

As soon as he had you where he wanted you, Frank latched onto your neck, kissing and biting wherever he could reach, leaving faint red marks in all your most sensitive places. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and bit your lip hard as voltaic sensations zipped up and down your spine. Frank slipped your robe gently off your shoulders, leaving light kisses along the newly exposed skin.

Frank left a darker bruise on the base of your neck before tenderly grabbing your jaw to trace his tongue along your bottom lip. With one hand (and a little cooperation on your part), he pulled your robe the rest of the way off and tossed it to the side. Then, he began moving slowly down your torso, stopping to nip lightly at your rigid buds through the flowers hiding them and lick a few gentle stripes up your stomach. When he got too far down to bend over comfortably, he pulled his barstool up behind him and tugged you to the edge of the counter before sitting back down.

At first you didn't know what he was planning, but you figured it out pretty quick when he grabbed your legs and tossed them over his shoulders. Your tailbone was aching and the faucet was digging into your back, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when Frank began leaving hot kisses up your thigh. His stubble was rough against your skin and you were secretly hoping you would still be feeling it in the morning.

You felt Franks nose bump against your clit as he swiped his tongue over your obvious wet spot. The sudden feeling surprised you, and you didn't have time to prevent a small whine from slipping out. Smirking, Frank drew his tongue tortuously slowly from the very back of your cunt to your sensitive nub. When he reached it, he sucked gently at it, feeling your thighs tremble around his head.

"Frank, please," you gasped, throwing your head back when he sucked harder.

Frank finally started slipping his fingers in your waistband, and tapped your hip to get you to lift up. He tugged your panties down to your knees and-

*hisssssssssss*

"Oh, shit!" you cried, pushing Frank away from you. Your spaghetti was bubbling over! You hopped off the counter and pulled your underwear back up, running to stir the pasta with your wooden spoon. As soon as you got the water to settle, your timer went off, signaling that it was done.

You grabbed Frank's strainer (which was actually one of yours that you brought over to encourage Frank to eat better) and drained your spaghetti over the sink. While you were shaking out all the water droplets, you looked up to find Frank moping with his head resting in his hand.

"Oh, come on," you said, noticing his pouty face. "What did you want me to do, let your kitchen burn down?"

"You can't start a fire with spaghetti."

"You'd be surprised."

"I just needed five more minutes, baby. That's it," Frank complained.

"Five more minutes and we'd be eating spaghetti-flavored mush," you retorted. "Besides, dinner's just about ready now. You've only gotta wait another half hour, and then you can have whatever you want."

Frank brightened slightly at the prospect, though he tried to hide it. Turns out, after four years of dating, you learn to spot the little emotions flickering behind your partner's eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying it."

"I just wanna touch you. Why won't you let me touch you, hmm? I know you want me to," Frank grumbled.

"I did let you touch me," you argued back lightheartedly.

"Yeah, but that wasn't part of the plan, was it baby? You're still trying to stay away from me."

"Why does it matter what I'm trying to do if you got what you wanted anyway?" you reasoned.

"I didn't get what I wanted."

"Tough luck. You will."

"You would've lost if it weren't for those fuckin' noodles," Frank jeered.

"Why do you think I set so many timers?"

*ding*

You switched off the oven and grabbed some potholders to extract your garlic bread.

"Go sit at the table. I'll bring you a plate," you ordered.

Frank sighed, but he did as he was told. As the two of you ate together, you actually had a very nice conversation, laughing and talking about your days as if nothing had even happened. Frank told you about a guy that was trying to save the ugliest, most broken car that had ever entered the shop. You told Frank about the return of one of your nightmare customers. For the entire time you were seated at the table, there was no torture whatsoever on either part. You were both content to celebrate your anniversary with good food and the best company you could ask for.

When you were finally done eating and talking, it had been well over half an hour, but it didn't feel like it. Your time spent with Frank never dragged on endlessly like it seemed to elsewhere. His presence was like a multipurpose drug to you, and it worked better than any stimulant or depressant you could find in even the sketchiest of back-alleys in Hell's Kitchen. There was no doubt in your mind that you had found the person you would be spending the rest of your life with.

You stood up to begin clearing your dishes, but Frank caught your wrist before you could touch a single utensil.

"Oh, no you don't," Frank said, pushing you back down into your chair. "You did the hard part, let me handle all the easy stuff."

"Yes, sir," you giggled, watching him work. When everything was cleared, you joined Frank in the kitchen, where you found him rinsing the dishes with warm water and loading them into the dishwasher.

Copying what he had done to you earlier, you wrapped your arms around his midsection, hugging him tightly and pressing your face against his back. He patted your arm with his wet hands, and you smiled into his shoulder before wiping it off on his shirt. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, enjoying his warmth and his familiar scent.

"You can just leave them in the sink for now," you suggested sleepily.

"Now who's impatient?" Frank teased.

Groaning softly, you gave him one more big squeeze before letting go and walking away down the hall.

"When you're ready, you can come meet me in the bedroom," you called behind you. Frank finished up pretty quickly after that.

He entered the bedroom to find you laying down with your eyes closed. Smiling at how peaceful you looked, he carefully laid down on the bed next to you. Almost immediately, you rolled over on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest against your face. He was like your own personal space heater, which made him very useful to have around in the colder months.

You shivered at the feeling of his hand running through your hair. 'How did I ever relax before I met him?' you wondered. You felt dangerously close to falling asleep, and as good as that sounded, there was something you had been looking forward to for a while that sounded significantly better.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you sat straddling Frank's stomach, staring into his eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. You had been having fun all evening; the night belonged to him now.

"I know what you were after earlier, sweetheart. You look a little tired now, is that still what you want?" he asked. He was always so gentle with you. Even when he really wasn't.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "But I want you to do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh? That's a dangerous thing to say, baby."

"I trust you," you whispered. "And I already know I'm gonna like it, whatever you decide."

Frank hummed, running his hands up and down your thighs as he thought about what to do first. You knew he had reached a decision when he grabbed you and tossed you onto the bed beside him. You yelped at the sudden motion, looking over at him to see exactly what it was he was trying to do.

Frank was taking his belt off. He slid over to sit in front of you, belt in hand, and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You know I can't let you get away with all that bullshit you pulled back there, right?" he asked patronizingly.

"I mean. . . you could," you responded.

Frank scoffed. "You should shut your mouth before you make this worse for yourself. You wanna get to the fun part, don't you?"

"This is the fun part," you confessed.

Frank grabbed your jaw roughly with one hand, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"You're gonna take that back in a minute, baby," Frank growled. He released your jaw to catch both your wrists in his hands, pinning them behind your back.

"All I wanted when I got home was to make my pretty girl feel good, but you decided to be a fuckin' brat." There was a darkness in his eyes that you knew was just for show, but it thrilled you all the same. "I'm gonna show you exactly what that feels like."

Holding both your wrists in one hand, he took his belt and wrapped it tightly around them, latching the buckle and securing them together. When he was sure it would hold and wasn't too uncomfortable, he pushed you off his lap so you were laying on your back on the bed.

"Now," he said, "I'm gonna finish what we started."

He immediately sprung into action, forcibly spreading your legs and slipping your panties all the way down. He tossed them aside and fit himself between your legs, leaning in to kiss you. At first you weren't sure how this was supposed to be a punishment, but you figured it out pretty quickly.

Frank kissed you so deeply, tugging at your hair and tracing your curves with his fingertips. He gripped your waist and your thighs, his dull fingernails leaving behind little indents when he'd get carried away. He could put his hands all over you, wherever and whenever he wanted, but you couldn't do the same. You wanted to pull him closer and squish his biceps teasingly to make him laugh. You wanted to feel his stubble in your hands and rub his shoulders as he bit your neck. You never realized how important your hands were when kissing someone until they were taken from you.

As Frank took to reinforcing the fading red marks he left earlier, he slipped a hand between your thighs to cup your dripping pussy in his palm. You gasped as he used the heel of his hand to rub it a few times, the pressure creating an addictive friction that had you grinding down against him.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, finding your g-spot with practiced ease and stroking it gently. You cried out softly at the sudden stretch. Frank's fingers filled you up so much better than yours ever could. Sometimes you swore he knew more about what made you feel good than you knew about yourself.

Your thighs shook as he began pumping his fingers slowly in and out, stopping every so often to grind his palm against your clit. Your arms were falling asleep underneath you, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Frank's hair tickling your stomach as he moved down to replace his fingers with his tongue.

You whined at the loss when he pulled his hand away, but your disappointment didn't last long as he truly began to finish what he'd started. Your thighs clamped down around his head when you felt the first swipe of his tongue, but he forced them back open, his wet fingers marking your thigh with your slick.

You moaned as he gave your cunt several long licks, cleaning up the moisture that had pooled between your folds. The need to reach out and push his head down or grab onto his hair was overwhelming, but you couldn't move. All you could do was take what he gave you. When he decided you'd had enough teasing, he dove in fully, eating you out like it was his favorite thing in the world. He tongued at your clit, sucking it at random intervals to see what noises he could coax out of you. Sometimes, he would lap gently at your entrance, just barely dipping inside so you could feel how empty you really were. He gave you one more rough lick before plunging his fingers back inside you and sucking hard at your clit. You almost sobbed as you came over his hand, trembling through your release. Frank groaned softly against you, enjoying the feeling of your walls fluttering and pulsing around any part of him.

He patted your thighs lovingly, coming up from between your legs to kiss you. You were still slightly out of it and breathing heavily, but tasting yourself on Frank's tongue brought you back to the present.

"See what you did to me now?" he asked when he pulled away.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Think we're even, then?"

"Uh-huh," you answered, struggling to sit up with your hands tied.

"I don't."

"What?"

"I didn't let you touch me, but I still made you feel good, didn't I? All you ever did was tease me. Do you still think we're even, baby?" Frank questioned, stroking your lip with his thumb.

"No," you mumbled.

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

Instead of responding verbally, you parted your lips and sucked his thumb gently into your mouth. After a few seconds, Frank pulled it out and replaced it with the two fingers that had previously been inside you, encouraging you to clean them off.

"That's a good start." Frank pulled his fingers back, satisfied with your work. "But you're gonna need to do more than that, sweetheart."

You hesitated, trying to figure out how you were supposed to lean forward without falling flat on your face.

"You know what I want, baby," he encouraged. "What are you waiting for?" Frank knew very well what you were waiting for, but his sadistic side wanted to watch you figure it out.

Rising up onto your knees, you spread your thighs apart for better balance, and slowly began to lower your head towards Frank's zipper. You made it all the way down without crashing, but you refused to make a fool out of yourself by trying to unbutton his pants with your teeth. Instead, you gazed up at him desperately, pleading for assistance with just your eyes.

Unfortunately, Frank wasn't budging. He raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, letting you know you were gonna have to work for it. Huffing, you lowered your gaze back to the zipper, bracing yourself for your impending embarrassment. You were just about to attack his button with your tongue when you were struck by an idea. There was more than one way you could work for it.

Leaning in closer, you started mouthing at his bulge, kissing it wetly through the fabric. You could tell it was affecting him by the way he twitched under your tongue when you licked lovingly at (what you hoped was) the tip. Using your nose, you nudged at the hem of Frank's t-shirt, and he pulled it up for you so you could leave little red marks and sweet kisses across his abs. Frank grunted quietly when you sucked at a sensitive spot, petting your head softly so you'd do it again. He was really enjoying the sight of you bent over, begging for his cock with your mouth. So much so, that he almost didn't want to give it to you.

He held out for a while, only giving in when the warmth of your mouth soaked fully through his jeans, wetting his dick and making him want more.

"Shit, alright," he groaned, reaching down to unzip his jeans. He tugged them down just enough to get to his boxers, reaching inside to pull out his hard, leaking cock.

"There," he murmured, tapping it sweetly against your cheek. "Have at it, pretty girl."

You were concerned about catching it in your mouth without your hands, but Frank generously decided you didn't have to everything on your own. When you turned your head towards it, he held it still and fed it to you slowly, stroking your hair as you went at your own pace.

You paused for a little while in the beginning to pay attention to his dripping head, laving at the sensitive bottom and sucking softly at the tip. You left a dainty lick on his slit before you took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around his length. You stared up at him as you dragged your tongue teasingly along the underside, tracing a prominent vein that you were very familiar with.

Frank's breathing was getting heavier, letting you know you were doing a good job. Feeling emboldened, you carefully took him all the way to the base, choking softly as he hit the back of your throat.

"Attagirl, fuck," Frank breathed, pushing your head down farther. He held you there for a moment, subtly grinding his cock against the roof of your mouth. Jolting at the feeling, he pushed a little too hard by accident, triggering your gag reflex. You pulled back to catch your breath before continuing to bob your head up and down along his length, taking him as deep as you could without coughing. Before long, your jaw was aching and tears were streaming down your cheeks from choking a few too many times.

Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of working Frank over with nothing but your mouth, he groaned deeply, signaling his impending release.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-" he warned, sighing as he came in hot ribbons down your throat. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the feeling of his cock pulsing on your tongue, waiting for it to soften slightly before letting it fall from your mouth.

You sat back up and watched Frank pull his pants the rest of the way off before tucking himself back into his underwear.

"Are we even now?" you asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Frank smiled. "Come here, I'll get you untied real quick."

You turned away from him so he could take the belt off you, wiggling your fingers and rolling your wrists to regain the feeling you had lost in your hands. Twisting back around, you pounced, knocking him flat on his back and pushing his shirt up as far as it would go. Making up for lost time, you began rubbing at his chest and his shoulders, and tracing his abs with your fingertips. He chuckled at your neediness, pulling his shirt off to give you better access, which you happily took advantage of. Cradling his face in your hands, you left dozens of little kisses all over his mouth and his neck. It felt so good to be able to touch him again, you didn't think you would ever let go.

Still holding you close to him, Frank turned so his back was against the headboard and he could cuddle you in a more comfortable position. For a while, you laid in silence, syncing your breathing with his and seeing if you could find a way to match your heartbeats. So far, not much luck, but you were sure you'd figure it out someday.

Checking the clock on the nightstand, you saw that you'd been laying there for about ten minutes. "That should be enough time," you thought. You looked up to find Frank's eyes closed, but you knew he was awake.

"Frankie?" you called, almost inaudibly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's time for the 'fun part' now?"

Frank smiled. "Do you want it to be?"

He opened his eyes, watching you closely as you unfastened your bra in the back, and slipped it off slowly. You dropped it on the bed beside you, leaving you completely exposed for Frank to admire you.

"Yeah, I do," you whispered.

Frank surged up to kiss you again, this time much gentler than before. He ran his hands up your sides to tenderly massage your bare chest. You whimpered into the kiss as he rubbed at your nipples, the little buds sensitive from being previously neglected.

Feeling impatient, you tugged his boxers down and quickly began stroking his growing length. Frank hissed at the shock, but he was thrusting up into your hand before too long. As soon as he was half hard, you lifted up and positioned his cock at your entrance before sinking down all the way. You cried out at the intrusion, feeling him curve perfectly inside you to brush your sweet spot on every thrust.

You sat there for a minute, just barely circling your hips as you focused on the feeling of him hardening fully inside you. When he was finished growing, you began to ride him, slowly pushing your body up and down on his cock as he raised his hips to meet you half-way.

Frank punched little noises out of your chest with every bounce, leaning in to hide his face in your neck. He breathed in the wonderful scent of sweat, sex, and expensive perfume, groaning desperately into your skin.

After a while of thrusting and grinding and bouncing, your thighs began to ache, and you weren't able to maintain the same speed anymore. Picking up on your sudden change, Frank took charge almost on autopilot, and flipped you over so you were underneath him.

You moaned at the relief and the change in tempo as he fucked into you faster and harder and deeper, but still with so much love and care behind every movement. When you caught his eyes, it felt like you were staring into your future, and you saw nothing but inevitable happiness.

Your gasps and whines got louder and louder as you chased your release. Your soaked cunt was pulling Frank back in harder, squeezing tight around him to try and keep him from pulling out. Every sensation you were feeling kept building and building until finally, the tension snapped. You almost screamed as your climax washed over you like a rising tide, whiting out your vision and sending waves of pleasure washing over you.

Frank was right behind you, as the feeling of your walls constricting and fluttering around him pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside you, filling you up perfectly before pulling out carefully and collapsing beside you.

The two of you laid next to each other, holding each other tightly and soaking up the afterglow permeating the air all around you. You couldn't have asked for a better anniversary, or a better special someone to share it with. In that moment, as you got ready to drift off to sleep, everything was perfect.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

[lov3m3darling]

Apple of my Eye (Obsessed!Wally Darling x Short!Reader) Pt. 1

Some lovesick Wally for ya! Nothing too extreme, he just thinks you're marvelous :3

!!!(TW: obsessive behaviors, eye imagery)!!!

Reader is gn of course! Enjoy!

💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙

Before you moved in, Wally felt his life was mundane. Sure, he had fun and he loved his friends, but it always felt like something was missing.

But when he came outside one day and noticed a new house had popped up, something about it drew him in. Maybe it was the (favorite color) exterior, or the freshly planted flowers in the boxes under your windows...or maybe it was the sweet smell coming from an open window. He recognized it instantly...apples!

Curiously, he approached the window and peeked inside.

And there you were...

Humming a pretty song in your apron as you busied yourself at the stove. And for the very first time, Wally felt somehow warm.

"Um, hello neighbor!" he finally managed to say after watching for a little while.

You jumped a little and turned around to see a pair of black eyes and a blue swirl of hair over the edge of the windowsill. You laughed.

"Oh gosh, you startled me!"

"I-I'm awful sorry..." Wally replied, suddenly a little nervous around you.

"No, that's alright. I just wasn't expecting company. You can come in, if you want"

Excited, he ran around to the front of the house and came inside. Only then did he realize you had been standing on a stool to cook...you were just about the same height as him!

You smiled at him.

"There, now we can meet properly! I'm (y/n)"

(Y/n)...he was positive your name was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He repeated it over and over in his mind, until it dawned on him that you must be waiting to hear his name too.

"I like that name. I am Wally...Wally Darling"

He pointed to the window.

"I live in that red house with the eyes! Their name is Home"

You looked puzzled.

"Your house is alive?"

You looked up to see the pupils in the windows looking right at you.

"Oh! Hello, Home.." you called, waving. One of the window shutters opened and closed a few times, almost like they were waving back. You weren't sure what, but something about Home's eyes made you shiver.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you Wally"

Oh...another gorgeous sound. His name on your lips made him absolutely giddy, and he wasn't sure why. He sighed happily, hearts in his eyes, as you turned back to the skillet on the stove.

"Oh, they're done! Say, Wally...do you like apples?"

He could marry you right now.

"They're my favorite thing!"

"Well, I've just made a little treat from back home you might like then! Ever had them cooked up with cinnamon and sugar?"

You hopped off the stool and showed him. He seemed very curious.

"No, I don't think so. I had a candy apple one time for Halloween and it was very nice...but that doesn't look like apples"

You laughed.

"Well, they're cut into slices. Want some?"

"Yes, I'd like that"

Wally was unsure about trying it, but truthfully, he just wanted more time with you. Something about you was comforting and warm, and you were certainly nice to look at.

You grabbed a blue plate and a (fav color) plate for the two of you and dished it up before sitting down at the kitchen table with him.

Strangely, he seemed to only take a bite when you weren't looking. But you didn't want to be rude by asking about it...maybe he didn't like eating when people were watching.

Meanwhile, Wally was in awe. He never knew apples could be even better than they already were. Where had you been all his life??

The hearts were back in his eyes as he watched you finish your last few bites. You wiped your mouth and smiled at him.

"So, what'd you think Wally?"

There it was again...that warmth.

"Oh, I liked it very much! Um, maybe you could make it again...and...we could have a picnic. After I show you around town, that is..."

Oh golly, where had this confidence come from?! He didn't even mean to ask you out when you asked him that question! The words just tumbled out!

You blinked a few times, blushing slightly, before a smile spread across your face yet again.

"Are...are you asking me on a...date?"

"M-Maybe...would you like that?"

"Maybe I would. Maybe I think you're a cutie"

Aaand he's melted. Absolutely butter. Putty in your hands.

"So...?"

"Yes, Wally, I'd love to. Come by tomorrow and I'll pack us up a picnic basket"

You said your bashful goodbyes and Wally practically floated out the door. He was halfway Home when he realized he had no idea what to do on a date, and his "heart" dropped. Uh oh, he better go see Barnaby.

Meanwhile, you were clearing the plates and noticed the strangest thing...

Wally's fork was still totally clean and unused.

💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙🍎💛🍎💙

That's right, MULTIPLE PARTSSS!

I'm doing the best I can with my writing, but things haven't been great for my mental health lately. I thought I had found a place to move but it didn't end up working out and I've been kind of depressed the past few days. But I am starting to feel better! Pulled myself out of it and managed to clean my room and get a shower yesterday so I'd say I'm doing alright. Anyone who struggles with depression knows how hard those little things can be, and if you did a thing today, I'm proud of you! 💙

Anyways, sorry for rambling! More of this story to come! (It IS gonna get obsessive soon, promise)

[rockcollector3000]

Girldad!Ghost’s day at the office

A fic for @blingblong55 <3

I really hope I did your request justice

Word count - 824

Warnings - none

No one on base would have expected to see the Simon “Ghost” Riley pull up on his motorcycle in a pink helmet with little cat ears. They also wouldn’t have expected him to show up with his two daughters, much less on his day off.

Nonetheless, he was— the big bad Ghost in a pink helmet, with his two little girls.

Price stood at the door, a confused look painting his face.

“It's your day off, Ghost.” Price said, looking at the two girls. “And who might these little ladies be?”

Simon took his helmet off, then helped the girls with theirs.

“Marie,” he said, pointing to the smaller girls. “And Aurora.” he pointed to the taller girl. “My daughters, my pride and joy.”

Price smiled at the two girls who were now waving up at him.

“And you brought them why?” he asked, the smile not leaving his face.

“My spouse is out of town, and the sitter got sick.” Simon sighed. “So I get to bring my little loves with me today.”

Marie wrapped her hand around two of Simon’s fingers, obviously nervous about her unfamiliar surroundings. Aurora, on the other hand, was looking around excitedly, a big smile painted on her face.

The girls looked just like Simon. Blonde hair, deep brown eyes, pale. They were spitting images of their dad.

Marie’s face lit up when she saw Soap come out of the building, waving enthusiastically at the two girls.

“Lt! And little LTs!” He said happily. “Mornin’ girls.” Soap smiled down at them.

Marie was first to run up to him, immediately being brought into Soap’s arms in a bear hug.

Aurora followed suit, wrapping herself around his legs. “Uncle Johnny!” She squealed happily.

“What’re you two doin’ here?” He said with a small laugh. “Thought yer dad had the day off.”

“Daddy had to bring us because our babysitter got sick,” Aurora explained, looking up at Soap.

“An’ mama is out of town,” Marie explained, running her fingers through Soap’s hair absent-mindedly.

“Aye, got it,” Soap responded, looking at Simon. “Si, ye gonna be here all day?”

Simon shook his head. “Just a couple of minutes, I'm doin’ some paperwork and leavin’,” he explained, looking at Soap holding his girls.

“Speakin’ of which, you mind playing with them, just till I finish the work,” Simon asked, taking a deep breath.

Soap nodded, still smiling. “Sure. Gotta be in your office, though.”

Simon shrugged, not much minding having them in his office. “Just keep it down.”

In total, they were all in Simon’s office for about an hour. He sat at his desk, silently doing his paperwork, only breaking his silence when one of the girls asked him something.

Soap had a grand time playing with the girls. They had brought a few tutus and a play makeup set, which Soap loved.

Eventually, when Simon finished his work, he played with the girls and Soap, putting on one of the tutus and letting Marie do his makeup.

After another hour, he called time on their game.

“Alright, kiddos,” Simon said with a big stretch as he stood up. “Time to get goin’.”

“Nuhuh! We aren’t done playing with Uncle Johnny!” Marie protested from her spot on Soap’s lap.

Aurora was quick to back her up. “Yeah! Can’t we have a couple more minutes, Daddy?”

With Aurora’s pleading and Marie’s protesting, Simon was already convinced.

“Okay, okay.” he sighed. “Ten more minutes. But after that ten, we go home. I still have to give you two a bath and make dinner.”

The girls quickly went back to playing with Soap, giggling and telling him all about the “right way” to play their games.

Before Simon could get the tutu and makeup off, Price and Gaz checked up on them. Upon seeing their lieutenant dressed like a princess, they both had to stifle their laughter.

“Lookin’ good, Ghost.” Gaz chuckled. “Pink is a nice color on you.”

“I see you're done with your paperwork, Ghost.” Price said, grinning.

“Just lettin’ the girls get some energy out before we go home, sir,” Simon replied with a faint smile.

“They've got about four minutes.” His comment was more directed toward the girls and Soap this time.

The girls whined lightly as they began to clean up, Soap offering help as he worked to get his tutu and makeup off.

“Alright, be safe on the road home, Ghost.” Price said, patting Ghost on the shoulder.

“Girls, keep your dad in line, alright?” he said to Marie and Aurora.

They gave a small salute to the captain before going back to cleaning.

Once everything was all clean, Soap helped Simon bring the girls back to his motorcycle.

They strapped the girls into the sidecar, put on their little helmets, and said goodbye to Soap, Gaz, and Price.

Simon wore his helmet and started the bike, waving to his co-workers before speeding off with his little ones.

[manipulatedstars]

We'll Be Alright

Genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint, non-idol AU, office romance, coworkers-slash-friends-slash-idiots-to-lovers

Pairing: Mingi x gn!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Pink Mingi (a valid warning), symptoms of anxiety and panic but nothing serious, mentions of gambling ig, Wooyoung being Wooyoung

Summary: When Mingi overhears some colleagues talking, he realizes he has to finally make his feelings known - easier said than done.

A/N: Can you believe this bitch (me)? Apparently I write now?? This is my first ever finished fic, and I'm eternally grateful to @hobarine for being the greatest beta reader without agreeing to being one in the first place. I love your sexy brain. [clears throat and wipes tears] I'd also like to thank my dear friends who made this possible in the first place - check the end of the fic for what violently inspired me to write this. Feedback and reblogs appreciated! Also - this is not a song fic (well... I suppose it very much is, but not in that way), but I'll Keep You Safe by Sleeping At Last very much set the tone for this, so I highly recommend you check it out.

The first couple times your new coworker had poked his head around the side of your cubicle, it was all business - or at least as much business as it could be considering that new colleague was Song Mingi.

It had all started out with work-related questions when he joined the company and, being one of the company’s top salespeople, you were quickly tasked with showing him around and answering any questions he might have. Your boss had personally offered Mingi the position, so he wanted to make sure the newcomer was going to stay, considering he was a “natural at his job” and would “undoubtedly prove to be a huge asset to the team.” You'd learned not to question your boss's decisions after he'd proven time and time again that he had a gift for picking out new team members, despite his sometimes questionable and unusual methods.

You also didn't question why Mingi, even after he'd grown accustomed to his new work environment, kept sticking around you. He never addressed this but he was shy around other people and you were still the only one he sort-of knew. And you, having grown to enjoy his company despite him being borderline clueless and painfully clumsy at times, weren't gonna complain.

So what started out as, "I'm so so so sorry, could you please explain the printer to me again? I'm so sor-" quickly turned into deeper, more personal questions and conversations. Not in a weird way, of course, he just really enjoyed being around you and wanted to get to know you better. Or so he kept telling himself and others when someone pointed it out. Over time, he had become fairly confident that you two could be considered friends, and he couldn't be happier. So you got used to him just poking his head, adorned with his signature pink hair, around the corner and asking you about movies and books you’d recently enjoyed, your most hated color (because according to him, asking for a favorite everything was overused), and your go-to spots in the area. At times you'd even catch yourself thinking how cute his childlike nature was. The only thing that put a damper on his mood was when one day he was put in a cubicle on the side of the office furthest away from you, for “productivity reasons" - not that it actually kept him from coming over to you just as often. In fact, he claimed to need a rest at your desk from the “extensive workout” they made him do in order to come this way. You never commented on how he was the only one to blame for full-on sprinting through the office space instead of walking like a normal person.

His favorite days are measured by how often, and how loudly, he managed to make you laugh that day. He could get lost in the sound, and knowing he was the reason for it? He wouldn't be able to wipe the smile from his face if he tried.

If only he knew that his visits had started to become the best part of your day, too...

You were thoroughly enjoying each other's presence. Always having lunch together, and taking a little bit too long to walk to your respective cars after work.

It was a regular Tuesday when Mingi made his way to the break room to get his regular drinks - a green tea for you, and a coffee with an obscene amount of sugar for himself - something you’d chided him for, telling him time and time again it would kill him one day.

He didn’t mind waiting for some coworkers to free up the coffee machine. He’d gotten used to it pretty quickly after the second one had broken some time ago. This just meant that the room was less crowded, since the majority of his colleagues had since chosen to head to the cafeteria downstairs instead of having to stand in line like he was now. But in his opinion, they were the ones missing out. He enjoyed getting to know the usual suspects of the breakroom a little better each time they happened to get something to drink when he did - which was the same time every day.

So it would’ve been just a regular coffee run on a regular Tuesday, if it hadn’t been for the conversation happening in front of him. He wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but nothing caught his attention quite like you did. Or, in this case, your name falling from one of the men’s lips. Mingi decided that he didn’t like the way it sounded coming from someone else, someone who probably didn’t even appreciate you in the way you deserved.

The men didn’t seem to notice him standing close by, or simply didn’t care whether they could be overheard or not, because their conversation didn’t seize.

‘’...I mean have you seen them lately?’’

He sure had.

‘’I’d be stupid not to make a move. They’re a catch.’’

NO! Well, yes..but-

’’Isn’t Song head over heels for them though? Kind of a dick move if you ask me…’’

They knew?

’’Come on, we both know he’s too much of a coward to actually go for it.’’

Mingi began to panic. He’d been so enamored with you since the two of you had been introduced that he’d never even entertained the idea of someone else possibly hitting on you. Of course he knew you were pretty. Gorgeous, even - he had eyes after all. He also knew you were the epitome of grace and kindness. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. But he’d been trying slowly and carefully to inch his way into your heart, and now realized that he was so focused that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of anyone else sharing the same end goal.

God he was so stupid-

He knew he had to act. Fast. Despite his insecurities trying to convince him that you’d surely be better off with someone who didn’t stumble over their words, someone who was confident and could sweep you off your feet, he knew he would forever regret it if he didn’t at least try.

Even if the chances may be slim, he couldn’t live with himself if he lost the opportunity to make you his, especially if he lost it to his own mind.

You were just typing up a response to Park Seonghwa from HR, who had once again asked you to consider joining their team, when suddenly, a loud BANG startled you out of your thoughts. You joined some of your other coworkers in getting up from their seats to see what the commotion was about, and you couldn’t help a bright smile from lighting up your face the moment you saw Mingi standing in the doorway. Though your smile dropped just as quickly when you noticed the look of pure distress on his face, his eyes scanning across the room rapidly. The second your eyes met, he started hurriedly making his way over to you, ignoring any of the worried and questioning glances and occasional comments that people were throwing his way.

What was going on?

‘’Mingi, what-’’ your question was cut short when he gripped your shoulders the moment he reached your cubicle. He was panting, eyes blown wide and never leaving yours, as if he was afraid you’d disappear the moment he so much as blinked.

As if he was only now noticing the stares and whispers directed his way, he glanced around the room timidly. His nerves seemed to catch up with him, because he turned and went to leave as quickly as he’d arrived - if it hadn't been for your quick reflexes and your hand curling around his wrist, stopping him in his motion.

It took you gently calling his name a couple of times for him to finally turn around to face you again - and now you could see the sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

He was also avoiding eye contact.

Now you were really worried. Was he sick? Did something happen?

"Hey, what's wrong?'' No answer. ''You look really pale... are you not feeling well?"

When he stayed silent again, you brought one hand up to his forehead - an instinctive action for you, but definitely not what he’d expected, because his face quickly went from looking sickly pale to flushing a deep scarlet.

Your eyes widened when you noticed how warm his skin was, placing your other hand on one of his cheeks. "Mingi, you're burning up. Do you need to see a doctor?" When again he didn't answer, you turned to grab your things, preparing to carry this man to the nearest hospital if need be, but now it was his hand around your wrist that kept you from moving further.

You glanced from where he was touching you with a gentle yet desperate, clammy hand and back to his face, noting the panic in his eyes that were still refusing to meet your own.

Any stranger passing by would've assumed you were approaching a stray kitten, desperately trying not to scare it off, but you knew how much of a flight risk Mingi could be when things got too much to handle. "Hey, you know you can talk to me, right? I'm only trying to help you," you said with the gentlest voice you could muster despite your racing thoughts.

Yeah, that was the main problem, he thought, you're the only person who makes this job bearable, and I can't lose you by messing this up. You bring both your hands up to cup his cheeks when you notice the tears welling up in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Hey, look at me.’’ you dipped your head trying to lure his eyes into meeting yours. ‘’You won't lose me. Why would you?’’ a gentle brush of your thumbs over his pretty cheekbones ‘’How could I make it through one day at this crappy office, with its crappy coffee and the crappy AC that’s broken more often than not, without you?"

Oh shit, his eyes widened even further. Did I say that out loud? Oh god-

He was about to bolt again, mentally calculating how long it would take him to make a detour to a wig store or a hairdresser on his way to the airport, determined to start over in a faraway country, when he involuntarily locked eyes with you. He never understood how you did it, and he was sure there was no possible scientific explanation for the effect you had on him, because the way your eyes, filled with nothing but kindness and understanding, always managed to calm him down instantly was nothing short of magical.

You had to be a heavenly being sent to look out for him - him, this mere human - and him alone. It was in this moment that he remembered what you'd told him time and time again. Realized that he really could say what had been running rampant in his mind for months now. Reminded himself that he could be open and vulnerable with you. You, who had never shown him anything but support and guidance, even when you were having a bad day yourself. Alright. You, who always managed to find a peaceful solution to any argument or tension that arose in the office… He'd be alright. You, who somehow didn't hold grudges even when people had wronged you. You'd both be alright.

You must've noticed the change in his demeanor, because your lips curled up into a small version of one of your beautiful smiles that he loved so much. Shit, he wouldn't be surprised if you could hear his pulse slowing down, his heart rate finally dropping to a point that wouldn't have sent an entire hospital wing into a panic had he been hooked up to a monitor, with news reporters flocking to his bed trying score an interview to find out how the hell he had managed to survive that.

So he closed his eyes, which were now stinging in protest to having been kept open wide for way too long, and took a deep, if shaky, breath.

That was all you, too. Your encouragement to face difficult situations despite every fiber of his being telling him to run. Your influence. You were the one who told him time and time again that things were going to be okay. You showed him that he was in control of his fate and his feelings, and that even when it felt like the whole world was against him, you'd be by his side. No wonder the HR department was desperate to get you to join them…

Mingi couldn't run away now if he tried. He owed you this much. If nothing else, he owed you an explanation, and honesty. He wanted to make you proud.

So with another deep breath, this one a little less shaky (the first one had you worried he might burst into full sobs at any second), he covered your hands in his much larger ones, pulled them from his face and intertwined your fingers with his between your bodies. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were full of determination.

This shift in tone, with him being calmer and more confident than you'd ever seen him, had you thankful for the grasp he had on you, needing his hands around yours in support as your breath hitched when you noticed the raw adoration in his gaze.

His voice, beautifully airy and deeper than you swore you'd ever heard it before, sent shivers down your spine. There was everything yet nothing as you got lost in his gorgeous, warm eyes, and now his voice too. You weren't in your office anymore. You were standing barefoot in a forest, surrounded by majestic trees and vibrant wildlife, a gentle breeze almost calling out your name. You were on a beach, the warm sand comforting between your toes, the waves softly crashing behind you, a pair of strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. You decided then and there that his eyes' gorgeous shade of brown was your new favorite color.

It took his voice calling your name softly to bring you back to the present moment, a bashful smile on his stupidly handsome face. Had he always been this pretty?

"Please tell me you heard what I just said?'' he asked shyly, knowing full well you'd completely spaced out.

"Uh..." You grimaced. At that, he couldn't help but turn his face downward as he murmured to himself, but you were so focused on him now that you had no trouble making out the words. "Oh my god, I can't believe you're making me do this again". He would've buried his face in his hands had they not been occupied with the much more important job of holding the world's greatest treasure.

He hadn't missed the way you'd gotten lost in his eyes, and it only fueled his confidence. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, it was the same way he’d been looking at you more often than not since he'd met you.

He took a deep breath. "I said..." he paused as he brought one of his hands up to your cheek, his other hand easily holding both of yours in their previous position.

You felt yourself blushing. Hard.

Stroking his thumb over your cheek gently, he continued "...that I like you. I like like you. No, scratch that -’’ a gentle shake of his head ‘’-I'm crazy about you.’’ His gaze dropped again as he started rambling. ‘’I hope this doesn't make things weird between us, and I'm so sorry if I read things wrong, and if y-" he started mumbling, nerves catching up to him again, insecurities trying to invade his mind and win back precious land. But you noticed. And you smiled at him in adoration, and squeezed his hand in reassurance. This made him look up at you again. You're going to be alright, you tried to convey with your eyes, we're going to be alright.

Another deep breath, followed by a lighthearted chuckle at his own antics.

"The point is, I really like you, a-and I would love to take you out on a date? O-only if you want to of co-" he couldn't finish the sentence, because you promptly freed your hands and grabbed his face again, pulling him down to you (what they fed him as a kid to get him so tall, you'd really have to ask his parents one day) and pressed your lips to his in a firm and reassuring kiss.

His eyes widened again, cheeks heating back up, but he melted into you as soon as the first shock wore off, arms wrapping around you almost on instinct. As if holding you was their only job, and what they were meant to be doing all his life. He pulled you up to his level seemingly without effort before getting lost in the next kiss. Feeling your fingers running through his hair, he groaned inwardly. Mingi could do this forever, and he would if you let him. He'd figure out a way to survive without oxygen. If not, he decided the team would be fine without him.

You only pulled apart when you noticed the cheers and clapping that had erupted around you, even the occasional wolf-whistle coming from your coworkers, most of who'd gotten up from their seats again, if they’d even settled down after the shock of Mingi’s arrival. You hadn't seen them this lively since the day your boss had ordered a coffee and snack truck to the parking lot in celebration of sealing a deal everybody had worked hard to finally make happen. The majority of them had their headsets still attached, and had you not been so ecstatic you would've felt bad for whoever was getting their ears damaged on the other end of their lines.

"About damn time, Song..."

"TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!!

"He finally grew a pair!"

These were only some of the lines being thrown at the two of you that had you blushing furiously, and Mingi hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

You could've sworn you saw a few fist bumps and some money being passed around, but you decided not to dwell on it for your own sanity’s sake...

After the noise had mostly died down, Mingi put you back on your feet just so he could press his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling. Maybe oxygen wasn't so bad after all if he got to share it with you.

You almost missed the signature fake gagging sound of your most obnoxious co-worker, but before you could chase him off like you usually would when he started to tease you about the way you, in his words, "spent more time staring at Mingi than actually working", the telltale sound of a palm making not-so-gentle contact with the back of someone's head (and the dramatic pained yelp that followed) made you realize that your boss had already taken care of Wooyoung himself. You swore he kept an extra set of eyes on the mischievous man-child just so he wouldn't miss an opportunity to reprimand him.

The same boss who sent you a curt nod and a small smile, before telling “the two lovebirds" to get back to work. Though you knew that he’d want to have a word with Mingi later, seeing as how the force with which he’d slammed open the door must’ve left at least an indent on the wall behind it.

It was safe to say you didn't get much work done the rest of that day, but you also never had to eat lunch alone again, or walk to your car without a strong, loving hand holding your own...or drive to work yourself, really.

Even years later, with your left ring finger now permanently occupied, you loved to remind him how proud of him you were.

✨Lore time✨

Here's how everything started:

Bonus:

(I was, in fact, not almost done)

A loving shoutout to my dear friends for planting this idea in my head. And thank you to everyone who read through it and left valuable feedback - you know who you are 💜

©manipulatedstars 2023 - do not steal, copy, repost, translate or otherwise plagiarize my work. If you do, I'll eat all your cereal and pour milk in your shoes.

[onlycosmere]

Cosmere/Magic the Gathering

'What IP do you most want to see in Magic the Gathering?' Thunderwoodd: Stormlight Archive!

thyfoolish1: Brandon said they reached out to him and he was excited and ready to go but they haven't gotten back to him. I think this was Dragonsteel last year. So there is hope.

Egi_: Even after the shitshow with the free book he gave them on the condition it wouldn't be commercialized and then WotC commercialized it?

Brandon Sanderson: I knew what I was getting into working with a big corporation. Like the proverbial frog giving a ride to a scorpion, I don't see justification for complaint regarding the eventual sting. I love the game, and the designers, so that's really my metric. As a note, everyone I worked with on the narrative team was wonderful.

I don't want a passing secret lair of five cards; I am interested in a full-blown set, so with that constraint, I wouldn't foresee a Stormlight or Mistborn crossover until one of several things happens:

1) They burn through the bigger properties that match MTG's vibe like LOTR did. Fantasy, or science fantasy, properties that feel legit as a big expansions. As mentioned in this thread alone, there is a pretty deep mine there. Dune, Witcher, Elder Scrolls, Arcane/LoL, Westeros (if they're feeling spicy.) A hobbit set is all but inevitable as well.

Considering they'd be unwise to put these sorts of things out too quickly, and should really give them time to breathe, we're looking at ten years easily before they're out of larger fish to fry. Stormlight is big for a book series, but without any shows/films/games, I'd suspect it doesn't have the casual word-of-mouth reach their marketing team looks for to justify the extra expense of licensing fees.

2) Said bigger properties decide they aren't interested, leaving things popular but without media representation. If they ever decided to experiment with a book-only series, I suspect I'd be very high on the list to approach.

3) Cosmere gets one of said media properties, something I'm actively trying to accomplish--but it is slow going, as I'm in the fortunate position of being able to be very picky about partners, and prefer to take my time.

I've made it clear to them that if a large-scale set were in the, ahem, cards, I'd be willing to make frequent trips to Seattle to be part of the design team on said set.

awakenedjunkofigure: If any author deserves the pick of the litter for production companies, it's absolutely you. Can't wait to see what your books would look like on-screen!!

Brandon Sanderson: Well, the answer to what they'd look like on screen is "Expensive," which a part of the problem...

schloopers: Any large consideration in your mind for spoilers versus fully representing a world or story?

Stormlight you’d of course want all 10 Orders, so spoilers are far as those are concerned are a given.

But maybe a legendary creature “Iron Eyes” instead of any spoiler specific proper names?

I ask because I have so far gotten one friend in the playgroup to start reading, and a couple full sets would for sure help in garnering interest, but I would worry for the story beats getting too greatly revealed out of context.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just unavoidable. I’ve had several Dr. Who episodes “spoiled” for me through that set.

Brandon Sanderson:  This is something I haven't given a lot of thought toward, but I perhaps should be mulling it over. You make a good point.

Thunderwoodd: Woah! Can’t believe you responded. Huge fan! And I loved your commander cube! Saw it on Game Knights right after I finished Rhythm of War.

Curious, do you think the Radiant orders could correspond to guilds or color wedges?

Brandon Sanderson: Yes, I've done thought experiments on that, and think guilds could actively work for them without too much trouble. Problem is, would we want a Stormlight set or just a Knights Radiant set, because ten guilds for ten orders is already a high demand. It might be better to make a wedge set, but the problem there is that the Radiants are actively all colors, so it would be hard to cut out any save black. (Willshaper individuality and artistic expression could be green red instead of red black, for example.) So maybe five four-color wedges? I think the lore could support this, and be something that MTG has had trouble conveying without the expansive worldbuilding an entire book series could provide.

Radiants and sapient spren (all but black, to indicate the inherent selfless Radiant cause)

Human Nations (all but green, to indicate triumph over nature, which is an antagonist on Roshar.)

Singers (All but blue, to indicate the lack of ability to plan for the future, dearth of scholars, and onset of madness in the fused.)

Non-sapient Spren and wildlife (All but white, to indicate lack of overriding societal structures.)

Secret Societies (All but red, indicting the deliberate and conscious planning of these groups.)

Four color signpost uncommons would be WILD, even with hybrid mana. So I can see the design team balking. This (four color guild set) is almost certainly something they've explored and specifically decided not to do.

mediocreattbest: It’s crazy coming onto this post to say “any cosmere set!” And then see you actually replying. Out of curiosity, would you prefer just a stormlight set or a cosmere-wide set? I’d love to see characters through their stories (like we had with the LotR set)

Brandon Sanderson: I'd prefer Stormlight or Mistborn alone, as the planets themselves are so much a part of the stories.

[journals-of-the-guardian-project]

LORE POST #1

Redesign of my Chat Noir redesign to go together with my rewrite which I will talk a lot about under the cut. I'm pretty set on this design too and will link it at the beginning of the fic when I get ten chapters completed and ready to post :3

What is different from canon, why I am changing some things, etc. Feel free to just read my thoughts around the design if you want to read my fic without any guidelines of what I'm planning so far for him

BUT I won't spoil anything major dw

The design:

I've changed chat noir's design so it would blend in more at night. The preferred the sleek black tones over the glow in the dark green I gave him before. I take a whole lot of inspiration from the PV of miraculous ladybug in these designs so of course his hair is still floofy.

When initially designing Chat noir, the tips of his hair are darker since I really liked that trait some other redesigns gave him so I included it without making his whole head of hair black.

I got the idea to base his design off of rust and RAN with it! He still has some greens in his design but they've shifted closer to yellow green and gold for the color scheme!

I've liked the idea about the clothes in the hero designs looking more cloth like too so I've incorporated that into the design with pockets and a zipper cause I can. Since Adrien has been thinking about being a superhero for a while, his design is more thought out were it could be.

EDIT: Forgot to mention!! Ladybelle has a lil more black in her design and now chat has a little more red! :3 matching

I saw some concept art of Chat Noir with a hat at one point and I loved it so much I wanted to keep it in to a certain extent, SO Marichat moment all the way. I decided to add the bells back into his design (I missed them) and took inspiration from @/callimara's Chat Noir design.

Chat noir will still be very cat like in this and I thought it'd be funky if his feat were like a cat's

Overall it isn't much of a design change for some aspects but I really like how it turned out!

K story stuff now:

I want to get ten chapters done before I post chapters again on the first fic since I don't think I did the best job introducing what I've changed. This isn't talking about adrien agreste's life this is more his role as Chat Noir. I'll get to adrien when I get his redesign sheet finished

(any part of this section might be edited in the future but this is basically part of my ideas)

Honestly a whole lot of the fic(s) is(are)

Fault of canon? -> Solution

I've been developing for two years now and I just gotta write it out... Entirely hinging on my execution sigh

Chat noir's powers are now on a more equal footing with Ladybug's (Ladybelle now) and I'll get more indepth when I post Ladybug's redesign and stuff but basically

The miracle box is a mix mash of several miraculous's from other boxes due to an event Guardian Marianne caused. Supposedly, she unleashed the Rabbit kwami of time on the guardians in an act of defiance. Resulting in rips in time eating away the members present for such an event, burning to death in fire. Marianne managed to run away with the miraculous's she could obtain and do her best to live her life knowing what she's done.

The Ladybug and Cat miraculous are a duo pair. Strongest when used in a partnership. Many are tempted to use both at the same time for what the powers merge to become but this isn't the strongest path.

Tikki and Plagg are soulmates you could say. They aren't really romantic but they are bonded for life. Never one without the other.

They are the only miraculous pairing in the new mixmash of the guardian box. Eventually Marianne gives the responsibility to Master Fu, her lover, before the rabbit comes after her as well.

I'll talk more about the changes I've made to Tikki's character in Ladybelle's post but as a part of the Miraculous cure, something all pairing miraculous's have to purify evils and darkness, it requires both parties to be present. Usually some form of touch or communication initiates the Miraculous cure

"Pound it!"

Chat noir can use his power alone to defeat evils but it's like cauterizing a wound. He doesn't figure this out for a bit.

I'll talk more about the miraculous cure in Ladybelle's post

This is still a part of the story I'm working on but:

the miraculous of destruction gets more powerful the longer the user wields it. With techniques and familiarity, Chat noir will be able to make black pockets of nothing just from a touch. Yes I'm including this from the concept art. Though he'll only get this later down the road

Chat noir is still a form of escapism to Adrien and part of his character arc is realizing he can't rely on it like that. A large part of adrien's character I'll talk about in adrien's post ties into Chat Noir too

I'm still figuring out some plot points for him so this is where I'll end this off. But I will say I'm planning on Chat Noir getting more time with the kwamis and more of a role in the Guardian arc and guardian stuff in general

[sdr2lovemail]

Rating KNY characters on how well they can play rhythm games!: Upper Moon Edition!

This came to me in a vision and I must share!

Kokushibo 0/10

Kokushibo can kill. He can slay hordes of demon hunters without breaking a sweat. Put a tablet in front of him? He's done.

In battle, he's quick on his feet and a fast thinker. But something about the bright shapes flying across the screen got him pressing them three years after they pass, even with six eyes.

It's a challenge to get him to even play. Saying that human games are trivial to him and does not wish to partake. Will probably get a few seconds into the song before quitting.

"This is pointless. Goodbye."

Douma 9/10

Scarily good. After the initial "shock" of seeing a tablet, Douma is clearing songs with ease.

He's got a good sense of rhythm and can keep up with the notes. He prefers games with female casts as well. They're just nicer to look at in his words.

Scratches the screen of your tablet with those nails of his. Be cautious when using it after he's done with it, you might cut yourself on the glass.

That is if you can get it out of Douma's grasp. This screen is so interesting, you can't just take it away!

"Hey, I'm still using it... Come on, just one more song!"

Akaza 2/10

He can keep up well enough, but his sense of rhythm outside of fighting is awful. He's too focused on trying to hit the buttons that he can't keep up with the beat.

Akaza will get frustrated very quickly. He'll keep trying as he keeps getting mad. Saying he'll beat the next one. He's not stopping until he beats a song, or until your tablet is in pieces. Whichever comes first.

You can offer to put the game on an easier setting, but he wants to play on an even harder setting, just to prove he's better than a scrap of metal. It's a never ending cycle of frustration.

"No! I don't need it to be easier! You know what? Make it harder. I'll show you!"

Hantengu 0/10

(Might include clones in a different post)

Bad all around. No sense of rhythm and can't keep up with the notes. Hantengu gets angry to the point of tears, which makes it even harder for him to play. Didn't even want to try at first.

While he's quick in battle, he's still an old man from the Taisho Era. The bright, flashing graphics of the game overwhelm him and he just can't focus on one thing.

Another one to scratch the screen with his nails. He'd press down hard too, leaving pretty deep scratches.

Gets too frustrated and rage quits, not even finishing a song.

"I-I don't want to do this anymore!"

Nakime 9/10

Amazing sense of rhythm and can keep up with the notes like a seasoned player. Not a fan of most of the song choices. She's a fan of traditional sounds. Modern day pop, electronic, etc. is not for her.

It's a challenge to get her to play as well. She doesn't acknowledge your asking for a while. You really gotta pester her if you want her to play.

Nakime is skilled with her biwa even with her nails. She gets a bonus point for not scratching the life out of your tablet.

"Fine...I will try your music game."

Gyokko 5/10

Thinks he's above anything you'd have to offer, even if it was from modern times. You'll have to really butter him up for him to even think about playing.

With multiple hands comes quick reflexes and the abilities to do multiple things at once. He's able to keep up with the rhythm and notes with ease.

Gyokko is docked points because he'd just be bitching the whole time. Saying how ugly the art and graphics are or how he finds the music/vocals grating against his ears. Overall allergic to fun.

"How childish! Makes sense that someone like you could be so distracted with flashing colors."

Daki 3/10

She would actually be good at the game if she didn't throw a tantrum every time she lost her combo. She has a good eye and sense of rhythm, but gets too in her head about playing. Takes forever to pick a song.

Daki would throw your tablet across the room or slam it into the floor in a fit of rage, don't expect to get it back in one piece.

There's two reactions depending on how well you play. If she doesn't like you all that much, she blow up on you in an act of jealousy. If she does like you, she begging you to tell her how to get better.

"Wah! This is stupid! I clicked that note! I hate this!"

Gyutaro 0/10

Gyutaro doesn't even want to entertain the thought of him playing such a stupid game. He says that he has much better things to do. In the small chance you do get him to play, he sucks.

His lack of skills brings an onslaught of self deprecation. Groaning about he can't even play some dumb human game.

Doesn't scratch the screen too bad but he does scratch himself, leaving bloody stains all over the tablet.

"Nehhh, I can't even keep up. How pitiful..."

Kaigaku 2/10

Proudly boasts about how well he could play and how he could beat any score you could manage to get. Is promptly humbled the second the song starts.

Kaigaku would want to play on the hardest difficulty, but gets mad when he misses a note.

His stubbornness doesn't allow him to quit. He's going to keep playing until he can get a full combo. Don't tell him that all perfect combos exist, you'll never see him again.

"Stop trying to take it from me! I'm not done yet!"

[funficwriter]

A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Letters' Interlude - 1

A/N: So these aren't official chapters per say, just an extra to the story that explores the yandere dynamic I'm trying to put forth! Also, I love listening to romantic music while writing for this 🩵 Until I finish Chapter 2, enjoy!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy and fake niceness, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings: Obsessive yandere language, graphic details in Wriothesley's.

Tag: @yue-caelum

From: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

Dearest Duke,

I am not quite sure how to begin or structure my thoughts, so I hope you forgive me if this letter turns out messy. It's barely been 24 hours since our fateful meeting and I finally got some privacy. I should interest you in the fact that today's tea is Earl Grey. I'm having it right now, accompanied by a chocolate and strawberry mille-feuille. If you're ever feeling bold, I'd recommend this combination. Quite the contrast on the taste buds.

I realized that even with our cadence and how we enjoyed chatting together, there's still so much to know. How have you been doing? I'm presuming you're at the Fortress. How is life there? How do you spend your days there? Is it a lot of work? You told me a bit of the nurse. Sigewinne, if I recall correctly. Does she have a lot of patients? And what tea do you drink when you're feeling so tired and done with the world? (I'm partly asking this one for myself. Some days are like that.).

Though I must say, since Liffey is a bit far from Romaritime or the Court's region, you must have a good teleportation waypoint. Belleau is far, too, but by Focalors' name it is enjoyable. It's quiet, lush and lovely. The water is so nice to swim in too. I find that regular swimming is one of the most beautiful parts of my day. I might be heading into more dangerous territory saying this, but I believe you'd enjoy it a lot if I took you with me. If you had a day off and I showed you around, we could then swim in one of the lakes. It's so refreshing and fun, and a good break from the city.

Don't get me wrong; I love its bustle and life. But I know when we return, I'm going to have to look over these boring nobles' declarations, and meet with them more often. Speaking of which, I'm sorry to sound so forward, but... Well, are you interested in carrying this further?

I'd like to tell you something about my worldview. As you know, I read a lot, but last night I couldn't get into the 'why' due to mother's timing. As a child, I felt strangely bored with existence, maybe to a worrying point. That would explain my parents' fretting. I liked the dance and violin lessons, but there was something about my books that gave my gray life a bit of color. Unfortunately, having to come back to real life was a painful must. There were times where I thought to myself: "Is this really life? Boring, plain, and feeling wrong for watching everyone's intense reactions while I derived joy from so few things?". I didn't even want to think about my future as I become a woman. This was all before we met.

Ah, Wriothesley! I've been imagining it over and over in my head! I even stood outside in the cold and closed my eyes and pretended you were right next to me... Imagine my pain when I confronted reality, mixed with the excitement I felt remembering you! Even now, I can't stop kicking my feet as I write this. For the very first time, I was proven wrong. I was mistaken about life, and who said mistakes were bad? After years of chasing perfection, believing it was beauty and goodness... Why, I might have committed the most beautiful fault in existence!

Will you please prove me wrong again? I know I might get greedy and stick to my old worldview, just for it to happen again. But I swear, I'll be good and I'll stop. I just want to feel my entire body and soul rattling in excitement once more. And you're the only one that happens with.

Mother and Father are planning another social, soon after we return to the Court's region. My understanding says you're not often social, so if you don't want any part of it (or even, if I'm being too intense), discard this letter. I must go now, but if you're as invested as I, I will be awaiting a response. And if Celestia is kind, I will be open for more. I'll be open for anything if it's with you.

Yours truly,

Lady Y/N Balthazar

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From: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

To: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To my cherished Lady,

I would like to start off by expressing my most feverish thanks, for reasons beyond enumeration. You taking the time to send me this lovely letter is the least of them. It is generally good form for a Duke to answer quick when he can, but I was so overjoyed with your letter's contents, I re-read it many times to take in all the joy you graced me with. I was also very touched with your personal confiance in me, so I'm also writing to return the favor.

First off, do you know how much I yearn to hear about your day, down to the little details? You talked a good deal about Belleau. I didn't care much about that region before, but now? All I've been thinking about is those fresh waters and woods you praised so highly. The only imagination I entertained was you, holding my hand, whispering that there were no nosy gossipers or greedy parents. Just the two of us, and the lake was all ours to swim in until we couldn't.

If it makes you laugh, I thought about it so much, I almost mistakenly wrote some prisoners' region tab as Belleau. Had Sigewinne not been near, the administrative mistake would have been a pain to fix. Are you laughing? I hope for it with all my heart.

And I want to know more. I want to know whether Earl Grey is your favorite, or you're only taking it because it's been brewed at that time. I want to know which chocolate you like best. Which books you're currently reading, and why you're so interested in lycanthropes without a hint of discrimination. Will you tell me more? If we get the chance to talk with less barriers, will you enlighten me with you?

After getting to know your old worldview, I question just how alike we are. It's easy for two people to share superficial interests. But when one feels so dissected, so naked knowing about another's deeper life and secrets, you can't help but question whether Celestia really does link souls. Whether you once knew them, or whether fate can be so perfect to send such a person your way. I'm sure you felt terrified writing it. Your mailbox may be private, but who knows when your family feels nosy and reads it? You know of the risks that come with such correspondence, especially as a maiden. Despite that, you didn't throw it into the trash. You wrote it, and sent it to me, letting me know about you. You may have just intoxicated me, and now I feel like I might die if that is all I know of you.

As respect to this, I'll confide in you, only it may be a little graphic. "If you feel queasy after this, feel free to end our correspondence here."... Is what I wish I could say with full honesty, because after that night, I'm not sure whether I can really be okay with that outcome.

I used to commit crime, both petty and serious. Such was the life of an orphan at the time. Being little fish wasn't an option; You had to be the top dog or get eaten alive. I opted for the first, even if it landed me in prison later on. My convictions range quite a bit, but once I grew up, I renounced crime. Even insignificant things. I wanted to leave that behind me.

Forget the obvious stealing sweets from the kitchen. When I saw that slimy Duke Arya talking to you, touching your shoulder, acting as if he always knew you and your wedding was tomorrow, I never felt the urge to murder as much as I did that night. The reasons behind my old violent crimes felt so small next to the ugly sight in front of me. You clearly didn't want him, but he kept going, as if you'd magically change your mind and be into slimeheads like him. How dare he be the reason you were pulled apart from me? Where does he get the gall to take you, act like you're owed to him if your parents decided?

How I wanted to end his pathetic standing, laughing, breathing. How I wanted to use my vision and punch his head out into an ice block, then freezing his wrangling body so he wouldn't mess up the carpet. How I wanted to lunge at him, bite, claw and make a bloody mess out of him. What did it matter if I perpetuated half-wolf stereotypes, when he was doing this? Which would hurt him more? Only one idea stopped me: You might not react to a show of violence so well. Oh, if I traumatized you, I'd never forgive myself. Being sent back to jail would be too light a punishment for a beast like that.

Please don't worry about transport, or ask about my attendance. I'm determined to attend that social. I'm so happy you told me about this in advance; I'm going to be seeing you, in all your radiance and beauty that make the world pale. So long as that happens, all is well for now. In the meantime, I'm adding some final touches to my declaration, and eagerly waiting for our next meeting, and hopefully the time I can freely take you into my arms, kiss you and prove the both of us wrong about everything.

With all the love I can hold,

Duke Wriothesley