#i was so focused on creating a masterpiece that i forgot that i was doing this to be mushy and fun and to FINISH IT!!!

[loverboybrightsideghost]

[pulls out a giant nerf gun] [hits new dream with repression and miscommunication of the rocky traumatic start of a relationship beam]

[murderenjoyer]

Imo if an rpg has a definitive min-maxing optimal build (between race, class, stat distribution), it is a poorly designed rpg.

Every race should have distinct, useful traits or strengths. Every class should be quality in its own unique way and handle its own particular niche. Every stat configuration should lend itself to combat/gameplay style.

If you can consult a guide that instructs you step-by-step what class to choose, what race to choose, and what stats to distribute at what specific level to create the inarguably best build, the devs have failed to make a truly engaging and flexable gameplay system.

Someone once asked on r/dos2 what the #1 optimal min-maxing configuration was. Everyone replied that it doesn't exist. Every configuration has positive and negative aspects to account for during gameplay, so just choose what seems cool.

This person argued that that's nonsense, every game has an optimal build. That it is impossible not to. They got downvoted into the pits of hell lmao and everyone kept trying to explain to them that dos2 is such a tightly designed game that such an oversight simply does not exist.

There is no One Best Class, there is no One Best Race, there is no One Best Stat Distribution, there is no One Best Party Configuration. Everything has positives and negatives to account for.

I feel like that guy played a lot of bad/old rpgs in his time. And more than likely a lot of them were mmos.

Before bg3, basically any list of "best crpgs" had dos2 sitting at #1, and it was there for a reason. Larian fucking tore it up designing that game.

Which race to choose? Humans are economical, lizards are persuasive, elves provide otherwise inaccessable lore, idk what dwarves do I never play one lol, undead change up gameplay fundamentally. And that doesn't account for storytelling aspects.

Which class? All of them have their own strengths. Elementalists are squishy as fuck but they dominate surface effect control (extremely important in this game) and mass damage/crowd control. Rogues are also squishy and do pretty low damage, but their single-target debuffs are lethal. Summoners can't do a lot on their own but once you hit summoning level 10 (especially if you have gear to push it even higher) your summoned creature can carry entire combat scenarios solo. Inquisitors can absorb massive damage and they have superb crowd control. Necromancers can summon, debuff, and heal. Don't get me started on hybrid classes and skill synergies. And oh my lord if I talk about home-brew class creation I can be here all day.

Stat distrobution? Depends entirely on your gameplay style and personal preferences. Wanna get rich? Points into bartering, thievery, and loremaster. Not really a combat guy? Persuasion (you can literally tell the end-game boss to kick rocks and win the game without a single strike if you play it right). Want lore and puzzle hints, especially pertaining to the entirely optional side-plot around the squirrel/cat skeleton pair that follows you through the game? Petpal. Wanna hit stuff harder? Warfare. Tanking? Constitution. Crit-focused? Scoundrel. I could go on.

Always get Morning Person tho lmfao it'll save your sorry hide early game.

Which party members? Because all of their classes can be changed without any interruption to narrative flow and cohesion (unlike bg3, which I've posted about in the past), its simply who seems the most interesting. You have a little chat in the starting zone, they give you a quick taste of their basic story and personality, and you simply pick whoever seems the most interesting.

I forgot where I was going with this post ngl. Something something Larian are masters of rpg game design. Dos2 is a masterpiece. Bg3 is a glorified dos3 with a dnd coat of paint. I want to give Larian 80 billion dollars simply out of appreciation for their craft. I'm waiting with bated breath for dos3 proper.

[pandoradoesotherstuff]

NSFW Alphabet feat Delsin Rowe

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

A/N: Well well well, what do we have here? Another fic I started months ago and forgot about?? 😅😅😅😅

But it is at last done, hooray!

Enjoy. 😘❤️

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

Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

It depends on the nature of your relationship. If you're someone he deeply cares for, then he's going to make sure he takes care of you in every way possible, and that includes aftercare. Gently washing you over with a damp cloth, bringing you some water and snacks. However, if this was a quick fling, then he'd more than likely be gone before you even woke up. 

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

His hands, have you seen what he can do with his hands? And I doesn't just mean his conduit powers. Delsin is a rather simple man and loves nothing more than to watch you walk away. The curve of your ass is simply sinful. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Delsin loves the taste of you. It's his favourite thing in the whole world. He loves nothing more than to settle between your thighs and make you come undone with nothing but his mouth. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

Delsin gets ridiculously turned on by being bound by his own chain. The way you wrap it around his other wrist and lock them with a padlock gets him going in a way he didn't know possible. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

Delsin's had a few fleeting love affairs throughout the years, but he's not quite as promiscuous as he makes himself out to be. 

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying):

Reverse cowgirl. You get to fuck him however you want and he gets to watch himself enter you over and over and over again.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

Delsin is generally pretty goofy at the best of times, and sure, he quite often makes an ill-timed joke during more intimate moments. But when you both really get into it, he's 100% focused on the moment. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

We all know he doesn't bother much with his actual hair, forever having a beanie glued to his head, but as for "down below," he doesn't have any hair at all. Preferring to shave it all.

 I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Delsin can naturally be goofy. It's part of his personality, so you have to expect a dumb joke every now and again. But he is always very serious about making sure you enjoy yourself as much as possible. Completely lost in the feel and taste of you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He loves jerking off over your body. It's his ultimate canvas and his fluids, the paint. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Anything that he can paint on your skin with. Stretched out and bare before him, his fingers trailing the edible body paint over your skin, creating a masterpiece. Just. For. Him. 

L = Location (favourite places to do the do):

On top of the ruins of the Seattle tower. It's quiet and private, with a great view of the city. Also, what better place to secretly stick it to the DUP?

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

The obvious answer is you. But more specifically, when you're being rebellious. Spray paint can in hand, giggling to yourself as you spray your latest design. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

Hurting you on purpose. Delsin has already seen so much death and destruction. Needless violence. He might lightly bite you from time to time, a playful slap on the ass here and there, but he won't go further than that. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

As much as he loves the taste of you on his tongue, there is nothing sexier to him than you on your knees with your lips wrapped him. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Delsin has a lot of energy. His blood runs hot, so he tends to be fast and passionate. But that doesn't mean he can't take it slow and sensual when the occasion calls for it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He is all for quickies! Delsin loves every inch of you and will use any excuse to be all over you. In an alleyway, on the rooftops, concert bathrooms... anywhere anytime.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

He's a vigilante conduit. Of course, he likes to take risks every now and again. Quickies near a DUP checkpoint are his personal favourite.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

Delsin takes good care of himself physically, and with his extra strength from being a conduit, he can definitely go a lot longer than the average man. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He's not so much into toys, but he definitely loves to use his wrist chain on your own wrists. Holding you down below him, spread out and waiting. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

Delsin loves LOVES to tease. Whether it be his fingers creeping up under your clothing, whispering spicy comments in your ear as you're trying to ignore him or he'll "innocently" nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Delsin is surprisingly quiet when it comes to moans. He'll grunt and pant, harshly gasp your name as he gets close. Whisper all the filthy things he wants to do to you in your ear. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

His hair is a particularly sensitive area for him. It drives him crazy even if you're just innocently playing with the silky strands. He can't help but whimper as you playfully tug on it. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Lean muscle, caloused fingers, and maybe a couple of hidden tattoos under all those layers.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

Delsin has a pretty high sex drive. Even just being in your presence makes it hard for him to keep his hands off of you. There's something about you that just draws him in. Your scent, your voice, your soft supple skin, the feel of your body heat next to him. He can never get enough. .

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

It takes Delsin a while to fall asleep afterwards. Too caught up in gazing at your beautiful/handsome features. Fingers gently stroking down your cheeks as you sleep peacefully in his arms. 

[odyssean-flower]

I love how you write neuvillette so much 😭😭 if u dont mind me asking, do u have some inspirations for the characteristics and tropes you put in the fic? Like books, tv shows, movies, or smthn like that.... I would love to indulge myself in those while i wait for your masterpiece 🥺🥺🥺 i ate well with the recent chapter and thank u so much for cooking up such a great meal🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Ok here's some of my inspirations (note that I mostly read a lot haha)

Kouko Shirakawa's Hanabishi Fusai no Taima-chou novel series! One of my favorite series, but it's only in Japanese (you can find a fan translation floating around somewhere tho). The main couple is so soft and supportive with each other and i love it when the male lead is really down bad for the female lead haha. The ankle grabbing scene was actually inspired by a similar scene in that series. It is an age gap romance though so be warned

Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre! I've mentioned this before, but my reader is heavily inspired by Jane. One of my favorite heroines in all media. The romance is definitely very problematic to say the least (though I'll admit i always tear up at the end), but it's worth it for her!!

Jane Austen's novels. I use them as reference sometimes to create the pseudo-regency vibe of the fic (and for ideas sometimes).

Bridgerton (the show). Also helps with imagining certain scenarios. Plus it's a lot of fun

Kore Yamazaki's The Ancient Magus Bride manga series. It focuses on the relationship between a human girl with a tragic past and an immortal magical being who still doesn't really understand humans, even though he lives among them and maintains a human lifestyle. I've been rereading it lately and wow Elias and Neuvillette are very similar in a lot of ways, aren't they? honestly a Magus Bride au would go pretty hard

Bonus: there's this one jp artist on twitter who makes the cutest nyavillette art. I think about them sometimes when I write

Edit: omg i can't believe forgot these

Heather Fawcett's Emily Wilde series. Very cozy fae romance series starring a prickly scholar and an exiled fae king

Margaret Rogerson's books. I really enjoy her writing style

[talkingwitht]

Strange Pictures by Uketsu — A Mind-Bending Masterpiece

Talking with T ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

🎀Today's Topic🎀 - Strange Pictures by Uketsu

30/July/2025

"I used to think creepy webtoons were just cheap scares and jump cuts. Then I found Strange Pictures, and suddenly I’m triple-checking every photo on my phone. Let’s talk about it."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------I was casually scrolling through TikTok one night, the usual mix of book recs, cursed recipes, and chaotic edits , when I stumbled across a video raving about a horror graphic novel called Strange Houses. The comments section? Absolutely unhinged. Everyone kept saying the same thing: “You need to read Strange Pictures first.” So naturally, I did what any curious (and slightly impulsive) reader would do --- I hunted down both copies and added them to my growing “books that might ruin my sleep schedule” pile. Today’s focus is Strange Pictures, and let me just say --- this is not your average read. It’s disturbing, hypnotic, and weirdly addictive. A psychological horror webtoon that relies less on gore and more on imagery, tension, and a slow spiral into madness. It doesn’t just creep you out --- it lingers in the back of your mind, like something you forgot to be afraid of. 🚨THERE WILL BE SPOILERS🚨 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

🔍 What Is Strange Pictures?

Author: Uketsu — known for creating deeply unsettling psychological horror stories that mess with your head more than your eyes. If you like eerie pacing and mind-bending plots, this is his specialty.

Format: A standalone novel, not a series. Clocking in around 240 pages, it weaves together multiple short mysteries into a larger puzzle through linked stories and evocative visuals

Genre: Psycholoical horror, thriller, mystery, and a touch of the supernatural. Perfect for fans of slow-building dread that creeps under your skin without ever yelling "BOO."

📱 The Premise (Spoiler-Free):

The book opens with a developmental psychologist analyzing a disturbing child’s drawing tied to a matricide case. From there, it unfolds through four interlocking stories, each centered around strange drawings made by characters disturbed or trapped in tragic circumstances. These include:

A new father’s blog with sketches made by his late wife during pregnancy

A child’s unnerving house drawing after going missing

An art teacher’s final sketch made on a receipt before a brutal death

Individually, these tales feel like small mysteries—but by the final section, they lock together into a chilling, cohesive whole

💀 The Vibe: If Junji Ito had a quiet conversation with Black Mirror, in a dimly lit room with no exit — you’d get Strange Pictures. It’s:

Slow and sinister

Visually disturbing in a subtle, haunting way

Focused on psychological unraveling, not gore or cheap jumpscares

A story that sits with you... long after you finish the last page

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

🖼 The storytelling style This isn’t horror that jumps out at you --- it sinks in slowly. The visuals don’t rely on gore or chaos but instead use silence, subtle shifts, and stillness to create unease. Every page is like a breadcrumb leading you deeper into something you’re not sure you want to find.

🌫 Atmosphere The mood is bleak and muted, and it works. The limited color palette (mostly greys and soft blues) gives the story a cold, detached feeling --- like you're seeing through a dusty camera lens. The spaces feel abandoned, forgotten, and strangely familiar.

🔍 Themes Strange Pictures explores perception and memory in ways that feel deeply personal. There’s this lingering question of what’s real and what’s projected. Obsession and trauma are big here, and the story never hands you easy answers. It wants you to sit in the discomfort and start connecting the dots on your own.

🧠 Emotional impact By the end, I wasn’t just creeped out --- I was quiet. It left that heavy, hollow feeling you get after a really vivid dream. There’s something haunting about how human it all felt — like any of us could end up chasing ghosts in our own minds.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

💬 My Favourite Moments

⚠️ Spoilers Ahead — You’ve Been Warned!

There were a few moments in Strange Pictures that genuinely made me pause --- not because they were shocking in a typical horror sense, but because they were emotionally jarring or beautifully constructed in their quiet horror.

🩸 The sketch on the receipt from the second story absolutely floored me. The idea that someone’s final thoughts — maybe even their confession — were captured in a frantic little drawing felt so raw. It wasn’t just eerie; it was sad. That’s what I keep coming back to with this book: the sadness buried inside the horror.

📘 The final chapter where everything ties back together? That was my “holy sh*t” moment. I actually flipped back to earlier chapters to re-check things, and sure enough --- the clues were always there. The way those stories locked into each other without screaming for attention was masterful. It’s one of the few books where I felt rewarded for paying attention. The wholeeeee time i thought Yuki was the main character, but I was wrong !!!. Every single time I thought I had the plot twist but i did not.

📚 Would I Recommend Strange Pictures?

Absolutely — but with a caveat. This isn’t a jump-scare horror. It’s a psychological slow-burn that creeps into your thoughts after you close the book. If you love tidy endings or fast pacing, this might frustrate you. But if you’re someone who enjoys decoding themes, noticing visual details, and sitting with subtle, emotional horror ---- you’re going to be obsessed.

It’s especially perfect if you:

Loved Strange Houses and want more Uketsu storytelling.

Are a fan of creators like Junji Ito, or shows like Black Mirror and The Haunting of Hill House.

Like horror that feels deeply human — sad, quiet, and a little too real.

I’d say this is a 5/5 stars read for psychological horror fans, and probably a 3.5/5 for those expecting something more fast-paced or action-heavy

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

🌙 That’s All for Today

If this book taught me anything, it’s that sometimes the scariest stories aren’t loud --- they’re quiet, patient, and waiting just behind your eyes. Strange Pictures left a mark, and honestly? I’m still thinking about it.

Thanks for hanging out with me again. Next up, we’re switching gears a little --- I’ll be diving into something that smells like ink and ambition: journaling for people who hate journaling. Yep, it’s a thing.

Until then, keep reading weird stuff. 🖤

— T

[ethereallyari-books]

Leviathan Hellfire newt Syrup

A series. Find more on Instagram @Arhi.weebs.

WARNING: smut. Lots of smut. (F)

—————-

He knew it was coming. He’s tasted it before, he knew the taste. How stupid could mammon really be? Dumbass purposely poured an entire bottle into the Babylon curry to “give it a new flavor.” And “and a spicy taste.” It was spicy for sure but not in the way one would thought.

The taste itself was more sweet than anything. It tasted like a sort of tangy honey mustard. A perfect mixture of bitter and sweet, creating the most perfect bittersweet masterpiece. A taste that was easy to identify for a few demons. Leviathan being one of them.

The second he realized blush shot across his face. Turning his pale skin a deep rosey red. His eyes instantly darted to MC. He crossed his legs, giving it a little squeeze. He looked around the table to see if any of his brothers noticed. Those idiots seemed perfectly fine. It’s fine, it wouldn’t last long anyways.

“I-I- I have to go!” He stuttered and stood up abruptly. Shaking the table a bit as he did. He pushed back his food and gave a panicked bow before scurrying off.

Everyone paused and looked at each other confused. It’s not like it wasn’t normal. This is LEVIATHAN we’re talking about here.

The rest of the dinner went on in silence. Each of the brothers getting increasingly anxious throughout the night. One leaving the table after the other until there was just MC left.

You let out a deep sigh as you gave up on eating. Putting your dish in the sink and giving it a little scrub. You decided to go check on Levi. Trenching up the creaky stairs to the dorms. You knocked on his door. It wasn’t too late you knew he wasn’t sleeping.

“Levi?” You knocked on the door and it opened ever so slightly. So you just took the liberty of just walking in.

The image that laid in front of you had your jaw dropping. There levi was sitting in his gaming chair. His pants down and his shirt was off. He had scratched on his chest, clearly he made them himself. He was in his demon form.

His eyes started to you. His cock was hard and throbbing. It’s tip red and swollen.

“Mc? Oh gods. Don’t look at me.. I-I’m so lewd and perverted. I’m sorry. Such a loser.”

He panted through his words. Yet he said it in such an odd way. His voice sounded laced with a tease. He stood up, looking at you with a different type of need.

“You’re so lucky. You don’t have to deal with this. Of course this happened to a yucky loser Otaku like me.” He stood tall over your figure.

Looking down at you as he inched closer. Backing you up against the door. It closing on your impact against it. He smiled. His blue split tongue showing ever so slightly along with his pointy teeth.

“Whoops. Looks like I forgot to lock the door. How stupid of me.” His eyes never left yours as he reached down and locked the door.

Your face was flushed red. You put your hands up onto his chest.

“I wouldn’t do that. I’m barely holding back as it is. So perverted of me. I wouldn’t want to be friends with a pervert like me either.”

He dipped his head into the crook of your neck. He groaned as his hands found their way under your clothes to fondle with your soft body. So warm against his cold hands.

“Please forgive me MC.” Was the last thing he said before you picked you up. A small yelp came from you as you clinged to him.

Suprised by his strength but he isn’t the 3rd eldest for no reason.

He sat you down in his gaming chair. Looking down at you as he pumped his cock a few times. Faint sounds of moaning could be heard….. he was watching hentai on his computer. He didn’t turn it off either.

He just focused on you. Seeing how worked up he was turned you on. Seeing him in a new light. The second you were put in the chair you worked off your clothes. Undressing yourself and blushing hard as you did it. You could feel his eyes tracking you while you moved.

You wiggled your pants off and discarded them to the side. Opening up your legs and setting them up on the arms of his chair. Having yourself on display for him. Which he seemed to like. His face flushed red. For a second you could see that confidence he had waver slightly.

He shook his head. “I’m so yucky. Very yucky and stupid, perverted and idky. A dumb Otaku.” He spilled a bunch of degrading words about himself over and over.

He fumbled a bit trying to take the rest of his clothes off so he was fully naked along with you. While he did so, he tail had a mind of its own.

Making its way up the chair and slithering it’s way right inside you. You saw it coming, and you sure as hell didn’t deny it.

A soft moan leaving your lips. Your whole body tensing up the farther his tail pushed its way inside you. Starting off at a small point only to grow in girth the more it went.

He didn’t even notice at first. He thought that sensation he felt was just the aphrodisiac. He wasn’t surprised though. Pulling his shirt off his head, he cocked his head to the side as he looked at you.

“See? I told you? I’m just so icky and yucky.” He said in a more bland voice. His cock twitching as he watched his tail disappear into you. Shivers sending down his spine as he watched your face twist and turn.

Watching as your eyes roll back. And watching as your turned into a puddle in his chair. He clenched his jaw. His hand taking a grip around his cock.

He shuddered and pumped his cock as he watched you. His tail did the same. Pumping its way in and out of you. It’s pace only increasing over time. Your hands ran over your body and moans spilled from your mouth. Seeing how Levi looked at you. Knowing that this was his tail inside you. It was enough to make your first orgasm rumble up and pour out of you. Your legs shaking as your orgasm came.

He grunted feeling you clench around his tail. You moved his hips pathetically trying to get more of him and his tail. He took the note and pushed in deeper which only made a second orgasm crash. Your body shook this time. Not use to the quick orgasms. Your body so overstimulated.

Yet, you still eached a hand down and rolled circles onto your clit to add the stimulation. You started to whine.

His body jerked here and there.. it went for a Mintue or two. Until he couldn’t take it anymore. It was so intimate. The room was hot at the atmosphere was heavy yet you both weren’t even touching each other. Not with your bodies completely anyways.

His tail fell out of you and a gasp and whine came too. “W-wait!” You choked out.

Not like he was done. Cum had leaked out his tip. He was so quiet you didn’t even notice.. yet his dick still twitched and throbbed. He stood up and went to you.. gripping onto the chair as his cock plowed into you.

Your arms instant wrapped around him. His head found its way to bury into your neck. His slick-covered tail wrapped around your body. Holding you perfectly in place for him as he fucked you. The poor gaming chair dared to break under the pressure. Levi had more length than girth and it sure as hell didn’t stop him from burying inside you.

He started to whimper into your skin. His demon nails digging into your plush skin, almost drawing blood. He was fast now. It was clear he was trying to get his own high now. So frustrated from the newt syrup. He pounded into you.

Both your hips met and loud moans left you. You felt your stomach twist. Such a pretty thing building up.

Your hips bucked when his dick scratched your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled back and a gasp escaped. Your nails dug until Levi’s shoulders and he whimpered from it.

It wasn’t until you felt his cock twitched inside you that your final orgasm rushed through you.

Feeling all your pretty juices pour around him and feel you tighten around him. He let out loud whimpers. His body jolting as he pulled out and came. Long white strands of cum flew out onto your chest. His head flew back and he scratched at his chest as he came. Heavy breathing and moans came from him.. who knew he had so much cum inside him.

He looked down at you. Poor boy was so exhausted now. He wasn’t used to all that moving. He blushed red seeing your body covered in his cum. His dick finally went soft. And normal Levi came back to his sense, shifting out of his demon form. He scrambled around embarrassed and tended you and your needs.

[starryhyuck]

thin walls. (m)

pairing: softdom!jaemin x sub!reader

words: 1.8k+

summary: you try your best to keep quiet since you know jaemin’s room is right next to yours. turns out you’re not as quiet as you think.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: dom!jaemin, bestfriend!jaemin, roommate!jaemin, oral sex, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie

“Isn’t it weird?”

“Is what weird?”

You’re having your weekly video call with Donghyuck and Renjun, the latter actually paying attention to your conversation while the former furiously clicks away on his keyboard.

“We’ve been quarantining for almost a year now. You haven’t gotten any dick in months and your roommate is like the hottest guy we know,” Renjun clarifies, raising an eyebrow. You both ignore the sound of Donghyuck grumbling loudly as he loses another game.

You roll your eyes. “And you’re so concerned about my sex life because?”

“Because clearly, neither me or Donghyuck have one. I’m living vicariously through you.”

That gets Donghyuck’s attention. “For your information, I am supporting many lovely women through OnlyFans. It’s only Renjun that has difficulties with sexual partners.”

Renjun scoffs. “I could have anyone on their knees for me, and we all know it.”

There’s a knock on your door and you take an earbud out when Jaemin pops his head in. He looks like a mess — his hair springing up in different places and eyes puffy. You frown at his disheveled state.

“Hey, are you still busy?”

Your fingers move at the speed of lightning, barely registering Renjun’s protest when you quickly leave the meeting. You toss your laptop and earbuds aside to give your best friend your full attention.

He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck. “If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“Nope, not busy anymore. Are you okay, Jaem?”

He fully enters the room and shuts the door behind him. He smiles softly at you as he takes a seat on your bed.

“Not feeling too great. Just wanted to see you.”

You ignore the swell in your chest at his confession, worriedly stroking his cheek when you realize how red his eyes are. His hand comes up to play with your fingers, eyes moving in and out of focus.

“What’s wrong?” You finally ask.

He shrugs. “Didn’t do so well on my test today. Feeling a little hopeless.”

Your frown grows deeper. You move closer to him, wanting to soothe his pain.

“Don’t say that. It’s just one test, you’ll do better on the next one. I’ll help you! We can make flash cards and create some trivia games to help you remember.”

He chuckles, eyes still staring down at your connected hands.

“You always know what to say. How is that?”

You giggle. “I earned the title of your best friend for a reason.”

“I suppose you did.” His eyes move upwards to lock on you. “Can I stay here? Just for tonight.”

You freeze. You haven’t slept next to Jaemin in months, the two of you only doing so when you were really drunk or really sad. You don’t even remember what it’s like to fall asleep in your best friend’s arms.

“Sure.”

And you two fall into a quiet rhythm, Jaemin’s arms circling around you as he brings your back to his chest. Your eyes flutter shut, focusing on his steady breaths as you try to fall asleep.

You’re startled when you suddenly feel a pair of lips ghost over your neck, pressing a small kiss to your collarbone.

“J-Jaem?”

He hums in response, not showing any signs of stopping while he continues to pepper kisses on your shoulder.

“Jaem, w-what are you d-doing?”

“I heard you last night.”

You pause. You try to register what he’s saying, which you find is incredibly hard to do when his tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your neck. You backtrack to last night, when you were feeling so drowsy but struggled to get to sleep. You don’t remember much, except for the fact that you reached to your nightstand to grab your vibrator-

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Y-You heard that?”

He hums again, moving to suck your neck with vigor. When he finally parts from his masterpiece, he chuckles.

“How could I not? The walls aren’t exactly thin, you know. I hear everything — all your silly commentary when you rewatch your favorite dramas, your weekly conversations with Renjun and Donghyuck, the pretty little noises you make when you turn your vibrator on, and the unmistakable sound of porn you watch when you’re really aroused.”

You feel more than embarrassed, stuttering as you try to offer an explanation. Jaemin chuckles against your ear, biting softly down on the lobe. A whimper tumbles out of your mouth before you realize it.

“I couldn’t sleep last night after listening to you. You made me fail my test, baby.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

“If you’re really sorry, you’ll let me eat you out.”

You swear your heart stops. “W-What?”

“I’m hungry. You wouldn’t want me to go to bed on an empty stomach, would you?”

“U-Um, no.”

Before you know it, you’re on your back with Jaemin between your legs. His fingers thumb over the fabric of your pajama shorts and he looks up at you, his eyes glimmering with a question.

You nod. “It’s okay, Jaem.”

With your permission, he slides your shorts down your legs and throws them haphazardly across the room. His gaze darkens at the sight of your lacy panties, which you honestly wore unintentionally today. You’re glad you picked them this morning though, because Jaemin looked like he was about to go insane at the sight.

“You’re so fucking perfect.”

And then his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core and you yelp. He’s almost predatory, shoving your underwear aside and diving into your sopping pussy. You moan when his tongue furiously licks your folds, curling in on yourself while he holds you down.

“Jaemin!”

He parts from you briefly and raises an eyebrow. “I think you have another name to call me.”

You’re confused yet again. “W-What?”

He snickers. “Forgot already? I listened to all those dirty videos you were watching, baby. I know all your cute little kinks. Now, I know you have a different name to address me as.”

“J-Jaemin, I-“

He clicks his tongue. “That’s not right.”

You gather all the courage you have inside of you, ignoring the clear embarrassment on your face by the fact that Jaemin has discovered all of your secret fantasies.

“Daddy, please eat me out.”

He smiles mischievously. “Good girl.”

You have no time to dwell on your self-consciousness before he’s sinking a finger inside of you, tongue lapping at your clit. You feel like a dog in heat, warmth spreading throughout your body as you struggle to comprehend the fact that your best friend is currently eating you out like his life depends on it.

“D-Daddy, daddy!” You scream when he slips another finger inside, curling them upwards while he sucks on your clit furiously. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-“

You cry out when your orgasm sweeps over you in waves, thrashing and whimpering under Jaemin’s hold. He uses his other hand to hold your hips down when the oversensitivity crashes into you, desperately trying to push away from him.

“D-Daddy, no, I-I’m sensitive-“

Jaemin growls and holds you tighter, fingers still drilling into your pussy and mouth wrapped around your sensitive bud. You don’t have time to warn him when your second orgasm comes just as quickly as the first, convulsing around him. You try to gain a sense of strength to push him away before he can launch you into a third, and Jaemin gets the message as he parts from you.

His chin glimmers with evidence of your arousal, fingers slipping into his mouth while he tastes the remnants of your two orgasms.

He pounces on you, lips crashing into yours and you moan. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and the fact shoots another spike of arousal to your core.

“What else did they do in that video, baby?” He whispers breathily. “Tell me.”

Your brain is a little fuzzy as you try to remember.

“H-He fucked the girl until she was crying and she took it. Anything to please her d-daddy.”

He smirks. “Is that what I should do to you? Fuck you until you’re crying? Will you do anything to please me?”

You know you trusted Jaemin with your life, so you nod.

“Anything for you, daddy.”

He grins. He quickly pulls down his sweatpants and his cock springs up, already half hard. You gulp at his size, and you’re suddenly reminded of why Renjun calls Jaemin the hottest guy you know. Jaemin’s girth wasn’t exactly a secret in your friend group, many rumors spreading around after Donghyuck discovered how well endowed your roommate actually was.

His fingers grip his base, slowly pumping himself while keeping his eyes locked on you.

“Like what you see, baby? Do you think your pussy is ready to take daddy’s fat cock?”

“Y-Yes, d-daddy. I c-can take your c-cock.”

He chuckles at your response, brushing strands of hair away from your face to fully look at you. His look is almost endearing, and you would swoon any other day if he wasn’t about to fuck you.

He lines himself up to your entrance, pausing for a second.

“Do I need to get a condom?”

You shake your head. “I’m on birth control. We’re fine.”

He doesn’t hesitate any longer, pushing into you slowly. You whine at the stretch. You haven’t been taken like this in months, and your vibrator is no match for his huge cock. He coaxes you through the pain, whispering softly in your ear and kissing your neck again to help ease you up.

Once he bottoms out, he waits patiently for your go ahead before moving. You can tell it’s killing him on the inside, brows pushed together as he tries his best not to pound you deep into the mattress.

“P-Please, daddy.”

Jaemin builds a steady pace inside of you, groaning and grunting into your ear as he sinks deeper and deeper. Your mind draws a blank when you struggle to form any coherent words, babbling while he impales you with his cock.

“You’re such a good girl for me. Always so good. Been waiting for this forever, baby. Dreamed so long of having you underneath me like this.”

“Daddy,” you gasp at his unexpected confession, hissing lowly when his fingers circle around your clit. Tears spring up in your eyes from the pleasure.

“Especially all those mornings when you were wearing practically nothing in front of me, you don’t even know how many times I wanted to take you on the kitchen counter.”

You cry when his cock hits you harder and faster.

“But you’re so good for me now, aren’t you, baby? So pretty and perfect for her daddy.”

“Y-Yes, daddy,” you whimper. “I’m all yours. All good for daddy.”

Jaemin groans loudly. “Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.”

Your orgasm is blinding, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out your high. He follows shortly after you, grunting when he shoots his cum deep inside your waiting womb.

You both lay in silence before you suddenly burst out in laughter. Jaemin eyes you.

“What?”

“We just fucked. I just fucked my best friend and called him daddy. This is so surreal.”

He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips.

“Better get used to it. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck in quarantine together.”

You smile. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

[thelocalmuffin]

Olivecan + 12 for the writing prompt?

Hello! I am sorry this took a moment- my morning job has taken a bit out of my schedule! Massive DGS 2 spoilers.

12. saying goodbye over and over because they keep forgetting things and coming back

It's a perfect day to paint. With another dab of bright blue paint on her brush, she continues to create. Olive strokes the canvas with great caution, hoping the paint won't cover the detailed grass she spent hours on yesterday.

It’s almost complete and she doesn’t want to risk even the tiniest of mistakes.

Behind her is her finance, Duncan, who rustling through his belongings to get ready for the day ahead. He scrambles around the apartment, stuffing his items in a bag.

Then, he leaves without a word.

Though it does disappoint her a bit, he must be really late if he forget to say goodbye to Olive.

She's about to turn back on her stool when a red book catches her eye. On the nightstand is his textbook, something he'll definitely need for today.

If she can get him on time-

He swings the door open with an exhale, eying his textbook with a relieved look on his face. “Oh, I was hoping it was here. The professor would have been furious if I forgot it again."

"He sure would have." Olive shakes her head. That professor's always been a bit rough on Duncan. "Do you have everything else?"

Duncan taps his chin, then gives a firm nod before walking in and grabbing said book. “I think so. I gotta get going or I’ll be late.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tonight.” Olive offers a smile as her future husband closes the door with a wave.

Olive focuses back on her painting, trying to see if there’s anything else she can get to before she leaves it to dry. It’s almost complete and will be the perfect centerpiece for their new home once they wed.

With their wedding day just around the corner, she can only hope it will be done on time. Duncan thinks this piece is for a client, but little does he know that this is her wedding gift to him. The perfect way to show her devotion and love to someone she cherishes.

The door breaks her thoughts as she gasps, letting go of the paintbrush in shock. When she grips it, she glances at the painting. Thankfully, she had just gotten the brush's excess paint on her hands and not on the masterpiece itself.

Though she did not enjoy being startled so early. She exhales to turn to see Duncan, panting in place.

“What is it?” Olive tilts her head in confusion.

“I’m sorry I forgot one last thing.” Duncan steps into the apartment, leaning in and kissing Olive’s cheek. Even through her slight frustration, a smile grows on her lips through a soft giggle. Duncan sighs again. “Okay, now I got everything. See you tonight!”

Olive beams as Duncan closes the door with a hum and dreamy sigh.

How can everything be so perfect for her? She turns back towards the painting, intent on finishing the mural before the date arrives, even if it takes her all day.

Based on the domestic prompts.

I still want to take some, so send them here.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 9

The Darkling x Reader

🌶smut warning 🌶

He looked at you with such an intense stare of passion and longing it made you uncomfortable to be standing so far away from him. He stood and walked toward you, painfully slow, the dimness of the room highlighting his beautiful face. The tension in the room was electric, the smallest flint would set the space ablaze.

His hand reached around your throat, eyes still peering into your own, and slowly lead your back into the bookcase. He applied some pressure and leaned his head in by your ear.

'You really misbehaved today' He placed a gentle kiss behind your ear. You could do nothing but melt into his hot touch.

'I know' you whispered, seemingly out of breath.

His black eyes stared into yours and through to your soul. You were bare to him, all your anger and frustration and lust left exposed for him to see and fix. His grip on your throat tightened, heat pooled in your lower half, igniting your body alive.

'My guards think I'm a fool, a fool...whipped for a woman who dresses like a Queen' He nipped at your ear, then kissed the base of your throat.

You said nothing as his other hand found its way under your gown and lingered its fingers against your hips, then dipped into you. You let out a whimper.

'Maybe it's time I tell them it's their Deputy General, don't you think' He looked at you again, his fingers still in you, pleasuring you to the point of rendering you silent 'bar a moan here and there. You had no mind to process what he'd just said, there was only one thing on your mind.

You grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him to your lips.

The kiss was animalistic, both sides fighting the fight, your teeth clashed and tongues wrestled. His hold on your throat loosened as it traveled to grip the back of your neck instead.

Your own hands went to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head. You scratched at his back, a deep growl leaving his throat as he lifted you off the ground.

His hands snaked their way under your nightgown, kneading your thighs in his hands. Your thoughts were whirling with him, his scent, his touch, you lived for it.

You felt your back hit a comfortable bed, silk sheets. His lips never left yours but his hands did lift the only article of clothing separating you off of your body in one swift motion.

He pulled away to view you fully. He loved this sight. You were completely at his mercy. Your chest rapidly rising up and down with every breath you took, or the wetness he seen dripping down your thigh. It was because of him. He rid himself of his trousers and traced his hand up your thigh.

'Aleksander, please no teasing, not this time.'

Not this time.

He didn't hesitate. He locked his lips with you again, this time it was sweeter, more memorable. It was like old times. You both savored each second of it. You felt him rub your heat and moaned into his mouth. 'Please, I need you'

He did as you said, slowly slipping into you. It had been so long but it felt so natural. You two clicked right back into place. He held you to him tight as he let you adjust and with a sweet kiss, moved and let the bliss begin.

It felt heavenly; otherwordly. You forgot how good it felt. It went all night, one, two, three... you lost count. You were making up for all the lost time.

Once you were completely spent, you laid your hair on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat. His fingers lazily tracing lines on your back.

'I love you, I never stopped'

You whipped your head up. Baghra's words echoed in your head 'He moved onto the next girl.'

Liar.

'You would be stupid to assume I did too' You kissed him again despite the tiredness looming over you.

'I love you Aleksander Morozova.' and with that, you dozed off, replaying the events of the night over and over again with a smile on your face, the rage and anger gone.

******

You woke up hours later, the room still dark and Aleksander staring at you. You focused your eyes, his shadows swirling all around you.

-Flashback-

The sun streamed into the room waking you up, much to your annoyance. You loudly groaned and felt the other side of the mattress for Aleksander but came up empty-handed. 'Aleksander?'

'Yes, love?' He chuckled as he walked out of the washroom, dressed to perfection in his black kefta. He walked over to you and kissed your temple. 'Good Morning' You caught a whiff of his signature scent; cedar and fresh pine.

'Does it have to be?' you complained and dug your head into your pillow.

'Whatever you wish'

His shadows quickly returned the room to a state of darkness, where the both of you felt most at peace.

'Thank you. I love you' You found his hand and gently kissed it, leaving a lingering feeling of warmth and home for him.

And that's how every morning went; stolen kisses and pleas of darkness. Until you disappeared.

--

Your eyes teared up at the simple gesture. Your old life was finally coming back to you after so many years of adversity.

'Thank you.' you sniffed and reached out for his touch but stopped yourself. You shut your eyes, trying to calm down the sudden feeling of hunger for what was his. You thought that spending the night in his bed would curb the feeling of hunger you had for his power. Guess not.

'Take it'

You found his eyes in the darkness. They were full of love and trust. He trusted you. He never stopped.

'You've gone so long without it. Take it back'

But you didn't want to. You didn't trust yourself anymore after yesterday's fiasco.

'Aleksander, I-I don't think I can'

'Yes you can. As much as I know you can defend yourself, I want to know that your as safe as you can be, this is my way of protecting you even when I'm not there. You're not leaving again.' He inched his hand closer.

'A lot of people don't know who you are, and when they find out what you're there to do, I doubt they'll be erecting alters in your name' He was referring to your job, Deputy General.

'Alek-'

'Please Y/N, for me'

You felt him softly setting his own hand in your palm, a warm feeling settling under it. You grasped onto the feeling and stretched it within yourself. It spread throughout your body, filling the emptiness you felt and hated. Your eyes shut on instinct, your head filling with darkness. Your hold on him tightened and the shadows around you died out, letting the morning light in.

'Y/N' he called out to you and you could hear him loud and clear, but your mind swirled with the images of black shadows. You glanced at your hand and let it out, a single sliver of shadow entangled in a flame danced around the room, this was new, you stared at it in awe. As did he.

You felt whole again. You had Aleksander by your side and a set of powers that would undoubtedly change Ravka.

His hand brushed a hair out of your face and he looked at you, breaking your concentration on the masterpiece you had created. The admiration was evident on his face and his eyes swirled with reverence, he worshipped you.

'You always find a way to amaze me.'

Part 10

Taglist

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204

Y/N and Aleksander are back bitches 🥰

[mianavs]

Savior Complex

He stripped you of your lifeline but refused to let you perish

Chrollo x f!reader

a/n: some chrollo content for your enjoyment

tw: dubcon, imprisonment

wc: 2.1k

Stealing Hatsu from others was akin to eating for Chrollo Lucilfer. He did it to strengthen his abilities and spared little thought on how it affected his victims. To him, people were equivalent to puppets in that they could be used and discarded without a second thought. The only time he spared a thought for his victims was when their Hatsu disappeared from Bandit’s Secret indicating their demise. Chrollo likened it to mourning his victims despite the depravity behind the sentiment.

You were different, however, in more ways than one.

There was no other way to put it—you were a genius nen user. Without any formal training, you developed your ability to manipulate the minds of others. While other geniuses profited off their Hatsu and used it to rise the ranks of society, you were trapped by yours and used it strictly for survival. Bought by a Mafia boss at a young age, you practiced your ‘gift’ on anyone your master sent.

Everything changed when a new esteemed client of your master’s walked into your workshop. Chrollo’s original target had been your master’s rare treasures but, after hearing about your gift, he altered his plan and included your Hatsu. It was a riskier plan, showing up in person for a session, but to Chrollo your ability was worth it.

The first thing that caught his attention was the cold emptiness of the room. Concrete walls, harsh fluorescent lighting, and the smell of disinfectant and death pervaded the small room. You sat on one of the chairs in the center with two armed men on either side. You were a frail young woman in a dirty white gown and with equally dirty hair that lie atop your head in a tangled mess. You were obviously malnourished judging from your sunken cheeks, bony wrists, and knobby knees. The most damning evidence of your mistreatment, however, had to be the leather shackle around your ankle that was connected to a large chain and attached to the wall.

In spite of your dreadful conditions, you rose from your seat with the grace of a newborn deer and greeted Chrollo with a bright smile that caught him off-guard.

“Welcome Dearest Client and please take a seat.”

Chrollo was convinced your lilting voice could soothe a raging beast as he unconsciously lowered his guard and sat down in front of you. Warmth dripped from your eyes as they traversed Chrollo’s face while yours radiated a child-like innocence as you started to explain the process.

“I will look into your eyes for a minute to search your mind for emotions I can use to create your fantasy. Is that alright, Dear Client?”

“Of course, Miss—I’m sorry but I didn’t catch your name.”

Your eyes widened at the word ‘name’ while the men behind you shifted uncomfortably. “Um…name? I-I don’t know what—”

“What do other’s call you?” Chrollo interrupted.

“Oh! Then I guess I have multiple names. I’m called ‘You’, ‘Witch’, and ‘Woman’ so please pick whatever you prefer.” You stated and Chrollo started to assess your character and the situation you were in.

“I’ll stick with Miss for now,” he declared before initiating Skill Hunter. “Now, can you tell me a little bit about your gift?”

“Of course,” You were completely oblivious to the growing tension that radiated from your guards and started your explanation. “My creations all take place in the client’s mind but I am always present. They are crafted around positive emotions or memories that I find.”

“So these fantasies are all positive?” Chrollo’s voice successfully masked his disappointment.

“Yes,” you replied fondly. “I use my gift to make other’s happy even if it’s only temporary.”

“Oh…and how long do they usually last?”

“At first, I could only last a couple of minutes but after making a vow, I was able to create fantasies that lasted up to three hours.”

“And what vow is that?” Chrollo asked, genuinely curious.

“Loss of my sight if I ever stopped using my gift. My eyes have no purpose if I can’t use them to search people’s minds and create fantasies for them.” Your smile dimmed as you uttered those words while something akin to pity stirred inside Chrollo; however, it wasn’t enough to spare you.

“What a beautiful sentiment,” Chrollo’s honeyed compliment warmed your heart and your smile brightened once more. “Shall we begin?”

Unlike most of client’s you dealt with, Chrollo’s positive memories and emotions revolved around a group of people instead of jewelry, money, fame. Instead of the luxurious mansions, clear skies, and sandy beaches you normally created the setting of Chrollo’s fantasy was a junkyard city.

You distanced yourself from the client as you usually did and watched from afar. Chrollo greeted each and everyone of the group members but tears welled up in his eyes when a large muscular man approached him.

You panicked at the sight of tears until you felt a wave of happiness from Chrollo and your worries faded away. For you, these moments were priceless and made you forget the pain in your stomach or the weariness in your bones. Seeing your clients happy negated any unpleasant emotions you held against your master and gave your life meaning.

Other clients merely forgot about your existence or purposefully ignored you but Chrollo surprised you by seeking you out.

Where are you? I want you to meet my family.

A strange warmth settled in your stomach at Chrollo’s request and you emerged from your hiding spot. You approached him hesitantly until he reached his hand out causing you to freeze in shock.

“Is there something wrong?” Chrollo asked, confusion written all over his face.

“I-I don’t know. Client’s usually don’t want to see me…why do you?”

“I want to share some of my happiness with you. Is that wrong?” Chrollo’s smile dazzled you and before you realized it, hot tears prickled your eyes.

“T-thank you,” you cried. “N-no one has ever done s-something like this f-for me.”

You accepted Chrollo’s hand and interacted with his family as if the fantasy were real. After delving into Chrollo’s mind some more, you learned that the muscular man was actually deceased and focused on perfecting him for your client.

Like always, you wished your fantasies could last forever along with your client’s happiness but it was an impossible desire and your masterpiece started to crumble. The flaming red sky of the junkyard city turned to fuchsia, then pink, until it became a white void. One by one, the group members disappeared as well until Uvogin was the only one left. He bid Chrollo farewell with a toothy grin on his face before he too became one with the white void.

“I see it’s time to return.” Chrollo commented staring into the white void that was once his beloved city.

“Yes, I’m sorry it ended so soon.” You answered, lowering your head.

Suddenly, Chrollo’s hand grabbed your chin and you met his eyes full of emotions that went beyond your comprehension. “No, Miss, it is I who is sorry.”

You wanted to ask what he meant but your fantasy dissipated into nothing and you were kicked out of Chrollo’s mind.

Your eyes fluttered open to blood splattered walls and your hand lying on an old book held by Chrollo. Everything had gone according to plan and the spiders eliminated everyone in the building including your owner. As the Phantom Troupe hauled out the treasures located in the bunker, Chrollo regained consciousness and fulfilled the last condition of Skill Hunter.

“What…happened?” Your eyes widened in horror when they landed on your fallen guards lying in a pool of their own blood. “H-how?!”

Chrollo watched as you whipped your head around for help only to be met with silence. Your seemingly constant smile was long gone replaced with a horror-stricken face Chrollo was used to seeing on his victims—but you were no ordinary victim.

You trembled as you watched the old book in Chrollo’s hands disappear and darted to your feet in an attempt to run away only to collapse on the ground when your chain extended its entire length.

Teary-eyed, you looked up at Chrollo who decided he never wanted to see that terrified expression on your face ever again. He softened his own face as he crouched down next to you and dried your tears with his thumbs. Confusion replaced fear on your weary face and Chrollo sighed in relief knowing it would be easier to dispel confusion as opposed to fear.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” Chrollo apologized, before knocking you out in a fraction of a second. “But I’ll take care of you now.”

When you woke up to the black void that was your vision, a broken wail erupted from your chest that alarmed various voices in the room. You flailed your arms in front of you to see if you could at least make out their outline but it was to no avail. With your vision gone, the gravity of your situation pumped adrenaline to your limbs causing you to scramble to your knees and crawl on the bed only to fall out of it and onto the cold floor.

“Hey!”

“Are you okay?”

“Get the boss!”

The shoulder you landed on throbbed painfully but the ringing in your head from listening to disembodied voices you didn’t recognize was worse. Curling up into a ball, you clamped your hands onto your ears to cancel out the harsh noise but it was to no avail. A plethora of negative thoughts filled your mind only to be dispelled by a familiar soothing voice that overpowered all noise.

“Dearest Client?” You uncovered you ears and uncurled your body only to hit your shoulder on the ground once again causing you to hiss in pain. Warm hands gently lifted you up and you jerked from the sudden movement.

“Shhh it’s alright, Miss. My name is Chrollo Lucilfer and I’ll be making you happy from now on.”

“B-but my sight…my gift—” The soft bed surprised you as he sat you down on the edge. “W-what are you—”

His hands cupped both cheeks and turned your head forward. “I’m sorry about your gift but I promise I’ll use it well.”

“W-what…how did…I-I don’t—”

“Stay still for me…please.” You were captivated by the gentle firmness of his voice and did as he asked.

When the meaning behind his words hit, you wondered if your gift would even work in your current state. Before you could voice your doubts, however, the darkness that enveloped you turned lighter and lighter until it was a white void you would recognize anywhere. Splashes of color materialized until they formed your last creation—the junkyard city.

“This…made you happy?”

Seeing Chrollo again made your heart swell and you ran to him wanting nothing more than to see his features up close.  You took in his disheveled black hair, pale skin, and pools of grey and teared up from simply being able to see another person once again. Raising your hand, you touched his cheek and gasped from how real it felt being on the receiving end of the fantasy.

“Amazing…I-I can’t bel—”

Chrollo’s hand shot out and pulled you into his chest while his arms wrapped around your frail form possessively. His scent and warmth assaulted your senses making your head spin but Chrollo only tightened his hold pressing against your skin harshly. Overwhelmed by the sensations pulsating through your body, you clung to Chrollo not knowing what else to do.

“You’re mine now,” his voice rumbled against the sensitive skin of your neck. “I’ll be your eyes from now on.”

A chill ran up your spine as Chrollo’s mouth trailed kisses up your neck to your mouth. An uncomfortable knot started to build in your stomach as his tongue probed your mouth and pressed against yours. You gave Chrollo free reign over your body not because you reciprocated his desire but because you didn’t know any better.

Your entire existence revolved around pleasing others, so when your tainted fantasy ends and you return to your dark reality; you learn to accept your new role. Moving forward whenever Chrollo visits your room, you continue to let him do whatever he wants to your body by convincing yourself that it’s his happiness that is most important. So when he leaves you naked and trembling with a dull ache between your legs, your mind does what it has always done best—it makes things up to help you cope with your miserable life.

[vminity21]

The Art of You | myg

Pairing: artist!yoongi x universitystudent!reader, friendshiptolovers!au

Word Count: 1,578

Genre: fluff/soft

Warning(s): None, Rated: pg

Summary: A painting Yoongi has been working on reveals his true feelings that he has for you in the most beautiful way imagined. Dedicated and was requested by @suhdays​ , who also created the beautiful banner for this blurb. Thank you.

A tan apron clings to Yoongi’s frame while he scrunches the sleeves of his sweatshirt halfway up his arms. Converse pat along the plastic flooring while he settles the painting onto the ground. It is nearly finished, and the inspiration is revealed in just the smallest intricacies- details that remind him of you.  Gentle transmits of music reverberate within the small space, and he readies his paint upon the palette you gifted him a year prior before he discovered the budding emotions, he has for you.

Aligning a picture of what he plans on adding to the main canvas, he carefully traces the lining with his fingers, concentrating solely on whatever he intends on creating to make the masterpiece complete. Dark strands flop past his eyes while he positions himself over the canvas, palette steady in his left hand while his free hand grips the handle of a petite paintbrush. Two bracelets decorate his painting wrist, but he is ever so careful than to let them touch any part of the dampened streaks.

Heavy footsteps trample into the room, slinging your bookbag over a chair in the corner, a brief sigh brushes your lips. Yoongi knew you would be due soon from your class at university, and you are too exhausted to fully pay attention to what Yoongi is finalizing. He has been working on a new project for weeks now, but he refuses to tell you who it is for. Sometimes, Yoongi likes to keep to himself, especially when it comes to his art, yet he has been quite successful with some of the artwork he has accomplished and sold within the past year.

His lips grace a small smirk, happiness spreading along his chest with being in your presence- something he has been looking forward to all day. “Yoongi, I’m home,” you bellow, stacking a few notebooks onto the tiny table in preparation to continue the homework you would so graciously like not to do.

“About time you showed up,” he teases, swiping a bigger paintbrush along a plain sheet of paper to observe if this is the color he would like to use. Noticing the palette, he had set down for the moment, you smile to yourself. He really loves his palette- the only one he owns that you happened to give him, yet he refuses to buy more, especially since the one you bought him is covered in faint stains from past achievements. You never understood it, but he takes it with him everywhere he goes, and the one time he thought he forgot it, he almost lost his mind. Thankfully, Namjoon, Yoongi’s roommate, found it behind a dresser where it must have fallen without Yoongi’s knowledge.

“I still don’t get why you are panicking, Yoons. I am sure there are some palettes in one of these stores here,” plus you did not have any issue with purchasing him another one, “Want to check them out?”

“Not really,” he murmured, timidly looking away from you while he anxiously awaited the doting text from Namjoon. What you are unaware of, is that palette you surprised him with is the truest good luck charm he has ever received. Because of you, every time he used that specific palette, his artwork has been recognized by thousands of individuals throughout the country. Because of you, he is determined to continue his passion with the gift you gave him held firmly in his left hand.

“Okay,” you sigh softly in confusion, “Well then would you like to grab some coffee until Joon replies? I’m sure it will turn up.”

Yoongi shakes his head briefly to situate his hair while the memory dissipates for the time being. “How long have you been in here? Have you even eaten anything?” You always worry about him because when he gets too focused into what he is doing, sometimes he may forget to hydrate, as well as eat, yet you can relate due to college being so overwhelming. You notice the white mask tucked under his chin, his earrings gleam beneath the light, and you cannot help but fondly gaze at how handsome your friend is. You met him a year ago, and although you have always had feelings for him, you feared that he didn’t feel the same, and when you stumbled upon his talent for the arts, you were determined to gift him with something related to what he loves to do.

“I was thinking we could grab dinner as soon…” his words trail as he dots the brush along certain areas of the canvas. You can’t help but curiously tilt your head to see if you can figure out what it is, he is creating, but from the angle and distance from where Yoongi is, you can’t quite see it yet. “… as I am…” He is so enraptured in his work that he forgets to finish his sentence and you playfully shake your head at him before turning to your studies.

Uncertain of how much time has ticked away into the evening, you do not understand how Yoon’s thighs cannot be burning from how long he poses in deep concentration. “Who needs exercise,” you joke, running your fingertips along your eyes to awake them if even possible. “You know,” you bring your voice up in volume for Yoongi to hear, “I’m not going to lie, I’m actually excited to see what you’ve conjured up,” you confess; there has not been a completion that you haven’t loved from Yoongi’s extraordinary talent.

“It’s definitely different from what I’ve done before,”

“Oh really?” Your attention is now returned to your notebook and with pencil in hand, you scribble random lines along the sides to prevent yourself from blushing. He has such an effect on you, and you wonder how he hasn’t realized it. “What inspired it? Give me a clue.”

“You mean, who?”

Pausing, with furrowed eyebrows, you ponder through your brain on who Yoongi could be referring to. “It’s a who this time?”

“Believe it or not,” he says, and you hadn’t taken into account the way he places his hands on his hips, longingly staring at you while you rack your thoughts with whatever guess you can muster.

“Okay but where’s my clue?”

“Hm,” he hums to himself trying to not make it as obvious as he would like to, especially if it risks scaring you away. “She loves to getaway. More so when it’s cold and the atmosphere contains the scenery she needs.”

A she? Surprised by the revelation, your heart shatters in different directions, yet you compile yourself enough to remain composure. “A getaway?” You choke, trying to lower your voice to not appear as shocked as you feel. “I’m assuming in the winter?”

“Mhm,” Yoongi responds, “Sometimes she wishes that she could see flowers there though, especially the ones that are her favorite. It’s simply hard when there is always so much snow.”

“Um, is it-?” Despite the tears wanting to burn down your cheeks, you guess a few names that come to mind, hardly being able to realize that Yoongi is talking about you. Exasperated after you have guessed so many wrong answers, Yoongi’s arms drop to his sides while he exhales slowly, gathering himself before sauntering to you. When a soft hand presses to your cheek, you lose all track of sanity; his lips touch yours so gently, it takes you a moment to realize what is happening. Oh! You gasp inwardly. Oh, you want to laugh at yourself for now you see that every fact he uncovered about his painting was him hinting about you.

Your fingers curl into his sweatshirt while you pull him closer, deepening the kiss while your heart flies sporadically along your ribcage. This whole entire time- he has been working on a painting inspired by you. And, this entirety of your friendship, he has thought of you lovingly as much as you have thought about him?

Breathless, he pulls away, but just enough to rest his forehead upon yours, his bangs tickle your face. “Are you ready to see the painting?”

Nodding, you are at a loss for words, the sensation of his kiss still lingering while he takes your hand. Following suit, he bends swiftly to lean the piece against the wall, accepting your hand in his once again as soon as it steadies. Gasping, your eyes widen at the most beautiful scenery you have ever witnessed. Snow capped mountains sketched meticulously with splashes of blues and greys mingle in precise detail to the sparse blades of grass poking from the blanket of white covering the ground. The sky alludes to the beginning of a snowfall, but what your vision gathers in the center of the painting is what touches your heart in ways Yoongi has always been able to prompt.

A bundle of magenta peonies are painted to be growing in resistant to the brutal winds of winter, and in tiny, neatly stroked letters exposes the words you never thought you would hear, or in this case, read.

“I love you.” Yoongi whispers, squeezing your hand as you take it all in.

“Yoongi, it’s- it’s the most beautiful gift.” You cry, him embracing you immediately, the scent of his sweatshirt reaching your nostrils as you cuddle into his frame. “I love you so much.”

And with that, forever awaits, Yoongi expressing his love in a way only he knows how- painted contentedly to the art of you.

[popculturebuffet]

Sparkshortstravaganza! (Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Well this was a needed kick in the pants. When I first heard of the Sparkshorts program I was excited. As a kid I loved PIxar, as an adult I love pixar and as an old man dealing with the loss of his partner floating away in my balloon house, i’ll still love pixar. So the idea of a program focused on giving new fresh talent the room to do whatever they wanted and make content that would be on Disney Plus, a platform BADLY bereft of original animation? It was a dream come true and the first one I saw Kitbull is easily a masterpiece and something that I can vividly recall every part of to this day, which for my terrible short term memory recalling EVERYTHING is a rare feat few works have achived.  But given I have a REALLY bad habit of letting things I want to watch sit there if I don’t jump on them immediately.. I let it sit there and didn’t touch any of the shorts and mostly forgot about the program until now. Until Kev, my patron and the only person paying for reviews at the moment, though others are more than welcome wink wonk, just decided what the heck and to test out comissioning shorts picked these ones because why not. And given I had been dragging my feet and reading the descriptions found creative and suprisingly heavy premises... I was fully on board And better late than never because along with Soul this program has EASILY restored my faith in the company after Onward really disapointed. Granted they’ve done worse, while there are pixar films I haven’t seen I need to like Coco or Cars 3, I’ve vowed NEVER to watch Cars 2 unless I have to and that vow has served me well so far. The shorts here are as a whole beautifully animated, have a ton of wonderful concepts and even the two weaker ones are still gorgeous to look at and a decent watch regardless and both come from a very well meaning place with a very well meant message. So yeah i’m thankful for this comission and to show you why let’s go through every Sparkshorts so far and see why their so awesome.. after some background of course. 

Sparkshorts, for the uniniated, is a program by pixar where animators are given six months and a limited budget to create a film based on personal experince. The program was designed to test out new ways of animating, directing and creating and to find a creative “spark” in it’s employees. Thus each film feels unique, has it’s own style.. and is utterly charming. I’ll be looking at them chronologically as while this wasn’t my watch order, I feel it’s a bit neater that way. I’ve already taken long enough to get to watching these, let’s open these films up and see what makes them tick shall we?

Purl: An Adorable Yarn Ball Vs Toxic Masculinity  Purl.. was better the more I thought about it. The first short released, it DOES have a good message and killer animation. The film takes place at B.R.O., a dude broey brockerage firm that’s painfully relasitic both in how broey it is and in how it looks. That’s to contrast our heroine: Purl, an adorable ball of yarn who just wants to be accepted but is instead ignored by the rest of the company till she changes herself up, donning a suit like her co workers she badly wants to fit in with and adopting their wolf of wallstreet esque douchebaggery. She finally gets accepted.. but ends up shedding her new self to help another Yarn Ball starting up.  Director Kristen Lester drew from personal experince, starting work at animation in a mostly male dominated workplace and thus having to adapt and only letting the femine side she’d repressed out when she moved to working at pixar, which had more female employees. The film DOES have a good message about toxic workplaces and toxic masulinty and learning the personal story did raise it a few notches as it made it clear to me that what SEEMED like an over exageration.. was probably just a light exageration given the kind of bro antics we’ve heard about at companies like Ubisoft. So while I didn’t like the film much at first honestly.. it’s over the top because it NEEDS to be because even though it’s 2021.. some idiots STILL don’t get it and kids are better off learning it now so it’ll hopefully stick when their entering the workforce. So we’ll get more people like perl willing to make a change and stick up for those like her and less dude bros. Still a decent and clever short with Perl’s bro form looking really neat and the animation on her in general is really fucking gorgeous. All in all not the best of these but still pretty good and while a bit thick on the message.. it kinda has to be. 

Smash And Grab: A Jaunty Ride to Freedom

This was a really fun one. Directed by Brian Larson and inspried by his need for a break from routine this follows two robots, the titular smash and grab who are designed to well.. smash and grab coal-like energy things for a train and have for years and years. The two long to high five, but can’t because their hooked to tubes so they can’t escape. But one day Smash looks out the window and not only sees fellow robots living a better life.. but a way to power him and his buddy/love intrest? I mean bromance or romance, either way it works. Point is our heroes escape, and have to fight security.  It’s just a really damn fun and creative movie. While robots wanting a better life isn’t new, the crisp art deco animation, breakneck pace, fun gags and heartwearming relationship between the two bots is just charming as hell. It’s just a fun ride the whole way through with a lot of heart and creativity with the two’s way they throw coal to one another used to take out the guards, and all together just some really good set pieces. Easily one of my faviorites here and that’s a high water mark to pass. 

Kitbull: Tiny Orphan Kitty + Big Abused Doggo = Best Friends

As I said this is the only one of these I saw before today and as I said it’s stuck with me. I love dogs. I have one of my own named Yoshi whose just a sweet boy. So i’ve always loved ALL DOGS.. and was thus horrified years ago when I learned about the stigma Bulldogs get. Seen as “agressive’ and “Mean’ and victious.. when really a lot of them, including my grandpa’s own pitbull when I was little, are just loveable as any other dogs. And having also known a former fighting dog my friend owned, if a much smaller min pin rather than a pitbull, who by the time I met him had become the sweetest dog you’d ever meet.. yeah.. don’t mistreat a dog just because some assholes force it to fight to the death because their sick, horrible, ghastly human beings.. if they can even be CALLED human beings after doing that to these poor animals.  My point is it’s nice to have a short about such a needed subject. Director Rosana Sullivan actually had the idea for the short for years and intended to do it as a side project, but when the program cropped up she moved it to pixar and the result is one of the most popular and easily one of the best of an already bright bunch, brought on by her love of animals and working in a shelter. It’s also one of Pixar’s first 2d animated projects and proves their just as good at that as cgi.  It’s the touching story of a kitty whose alone in the world and initally mistrustful and hissy at a big dog she finds and is naturally scared of.. until she grows to bond with the dog, realizing much like a LOT of fucking people need to that pitbulls.. are just dogs and often victims of circumstance and the poor, sweet pooch who just wants his owner to love him.. is instead thrown into a fighting pit, nearly killed and forced to make a daring escape with their new forever friends help. It’s through this wonderful, heartrending friendship that the dog finds freedom and the cat.. finds them both a home, no longer running from people but instead making sure they both get a person. It’s often brutal at times, with the scene of the dog being forced to fight being one of the most striking: while we thankfully don’t see the action, we HEAR IT, as does the poor kitty, and we see the aftermath: a friendly harmless dog thrown out into the cold just because it dosen’t WANT to fight. It’s just really heartrending stuff that makes the happy ending all the better. It’s also gorgeiously animated which I mentioned but i’ll say it again; the animation here is GOREGOUS, unqiue and stunning. Go watch this if you haven’t. 

Float: This is Why Krakoa Exists

This.. has easily been the hardest to review of the bunch. While ALL of these stories are very personal, very inclusive and very intresting, this one.. is a bit rougher than most of them and hits REALLY close to home. See this one was built out of director Bobby Rubio’s experinces raising his son who has autisim. 

It’s about a dad who discovers his infant son can float... and thus gets stares of fear or judgment from eveyrone around him slowly getting broken down by this. So he makes a HORRIBLE judgment call and rather than just accept some people are assholes, weighs his son’s backpack down with stones despite him hating it then drags him away when he ends up floating off, before screaming at the poor kid WHY CAN’T YOU BE DIFFRENT.. He DOES instantly regret this and the ending is genuinely touching as the father finally accepts his son is different and throws him into the air while on a swing, letting his son soar as he always should’ve. It is a beautifully animated and well meant film and the filipino representation is truly great: Rubio originally was going to have the characters as white but his fellow animators convinced him to go for represntation and be true to himself and honestly in a time when disney itself has had to be fought to get queer representation most of the time, it’s nice that pixar at least is a part of it that throughly encourages representation and will gladly put diversity and representation over any bullshit “risk factors”.  That being said.. while this was a decent short with a very well intentioned message and it clearly connected with a lot of people.. it wasn’t for me and I say this as someone who has autisim. As someone who has worn down people’s patince and been starred at by a freak for something I was way too young to properly deal with.  I’ve been in this Kid’s shoes. 

And that’s the problem: The metaphor dosen’t really work for me. While auitism CAN have some benifits and I wouldn’t be any other way i’d be lying if I said it was easy having trouble commuincating, constnatly misreading people, constnatly worrying if someone’s going to like you, and hyperfocusing on a problem instead of being able to set it and forget it for a bit to my own detriment. There’s other problems and not ALL of my issues come from anxiety disorder: I also have anxiety and depression. They just bleed badly INTO said autisim sometimes, as it’s hard to effectively combat anxiety sometimes when your mind won’t let you. 

What i’m saying is... there aren’t any FAULTS in his powers. See i’m a fan of x-men, so I can only see this boy as a mutant, and yes I know they usually manfifest at puberty but there have been exceptions so don’t at me.. and one of them who has no real downsides other than the unfair stigma of being a mutant. He’s more like storm, who can control the elements and whose power only enhances her life nad lesss like say Rogue, who looks normal.. but can’t touch anyone without knocking them out at best or horribly abosrbing them into her head at worst. There’s no downside other than the fact people judge him and his dad is a dick about it.  And the dad part is hard because I get what Rubio is going for: parents make mistakes, parents mess up and their only human even if they should embrace their kids anyway. That’s a good message and one I support.. I just think Rubio was way TOO hard on himself and thus made his stand in into an unlikeable asshole, one whose more concerned with how everyone ELSE thinks and does the horribly abusive action of basically tying his son’s wings down so he can’t fly. He mans well, it’s so his son dosen’t float off.. but instead of finding a way to help him and work with him on it.. he just stuffs rocks in his back and forces the kid to be miserable so other people can be happy. It just goes way too far in the other direction to work. As I said I think it’s the guy being too hard on himself, manifesting his worst moments with his kids and his biggest regrets and making himself into a very hard to like character because he has trouble forgviing himself for how he acted. So I want to say if you ever read this bobby while I wasn’t hte biggest fan of your film.. I do wholly support you and your son.. and the fact you made an entire FILM just to show your sturggle and show people there not alone was a beautiful act. You are not a bad person , we all make mistakes and we’re all just human. You are a good man Bobby Rubio. I may of not liked your metaphor... but your message is beautiful. 

Wind: Immigration by Way of Rocket Science

Thankfully moving on.. this one is tied with Kitbull for my faviorite. It has a truly intriguing premise, a great metaphor, stunning animation, and is just really moving, gripping and fun to watch. This one was by Edwin Chang, and as is usualy by now, it was built on personal experince.. but not his. It was built on the fact his father was an immigrant who had to leave his mother, Chang’s grandmother, behind to a better life. She rejoined them eventually but it left an impact on his father and thus serves as the core of this story. And honestly knowing that only STRENGTHENS an already impresssive sci fi short.  It’s the story of a boy, apparently named Ellis so i’ll use that, and his grandmother who live in a bizzare, hauntingly beautifuly stygian sinkhole that has floating rocks and debris. The two spend their day farming potatoes and grabbing whatever they can to hopefully make their way out. But it becomes clear to young Ellis after they find a plane his grandmother wants HIM to go alone and escape and is willing to sacrifice herself.. and ends up having to trick the boy into thinking sh’es going along in order to get him to do what he needs to surivive and thrive. It’s a truly gut wrenching story as even when she seems to have found a way for them both to leave.. it’s very clear she’s simply training him with all the welding tools and what not so he has skills to make it out there on his own in the unknown. So he can live without her.. but more importantly.. so he CAN LIVE. Away from the darkness, not having to scrape and to surivive and hopefully find something better out there. While the old parental figure sacrifciing thsmelves so the youngun can start hteir journey isn’t new.. it’s the unique, beautiful and haunting setting and the emotoin, conveyed only through the utterly beautiful animation that make this story feel fresh, along with it’s great metaphor. This short is just haunting, beauitful and really damn sad, and I only dont’ have all that much to say because it’s all in the visuals. The only thing I have left is like all of these really, watch it. But especailly this one. 

Loop: Enough Said

This is part of the reason I didn’t like Float all that much. Loop is just.. way better at conveying the experinces of having auitism. While Renee is a more severe case than me I can relate to what kicks off the film: Renee, usually paired with an adult at the camp she at, is forcibley paired with a chatty boy named Marcus. While Marcus is eager to go home and has no idea how to interact with the two the two genuinely bond, with Marcus slowly getting into Renee’s world. The key scene for this and the one that clinches the film is Renee waving her hands over the reeeds in the water, throughly enjoying it with marcus not getting it.. till he tries himself. Director Erica Milsom, whose worked with autistic children and picked this medium entriely because i’ts perfect for a non verbal character and is one that can tackle heavy issues like this in a way to help people understan, really wanted to counter most depections of severe autisim, paticuarlly sensory issues. While we see the good in them instead of JUST her freaking out or being overwhelemed: how her sounds and the things she feels truly relax her and how she really DOES enjoy nature and is perfectly at home there. It’s just a beautiful way to show this disablility is not ALL bad, as many works tend to focus soley on the drawbacks. While I had my issues with Float part of it was it had too much good.. but Loop is superior at this simply because it shows both with unflinching honesty: The beauty of something that calms and relaxes your brain or a touch or sensation that just FEEELS really good, things that while again i’m not on the same level as Renee.. I can still fully relate to.  But what puts it over float besides not having a messy metaphor is it DOES show the issues that come with it.. but does so WELL and with nuance. It shows how isolating autisim can be, especially for someone like Renee who can’t talk, how people are sometimes freaked out by you and don’t know how to interact with you and how adults can MEAN WELL, and the counsler setting them off was a good idea in the end... but can also be misguided and not fully know how to handle you without overwhelming you. It shows just how bad a panic attack can be, how you can just.. shut down and drive away. It was easily the sequence that hit the hartest and resonated the most as I’ve had those, and i’ve just shut down with no one able to reach me.. and it makes it all the more touching as Marcus eventually realizes how to handle things, and gives her space despite the setting son and the peril of being stranded.. because he realizes she needs it and offers to simply be there when she’s ready. It’s a touching, wonderful gesture, capped by him giving her a reed.. and the two heading home finally udnerstanding one another.This one is very close to wind in my heart and I think I found even more love for it writing this review and realizing just how much it hit me. And that ain’t bad. 

Out: Be Proud of Who You Are.. with the help of a gay cosmic space cat 

Speaking of hitting close to home and really resonating with me, we have Pixar’s first short with a gay main character, with his sexuality being the center of this. And as a bi person who had struggle accepting his sexuality let alone telling anyone, even when you know someoen will likely accept you.. this naturally hit hard. I took some time to realize I was bi, and when I did I was terrified of telling my mom, despite her being loving, supportive and just wonderful, same with my brother. Both fully accepted me as I figured and had no issue with it, esepcially sine my romantic history is nearly non existant anyways, but I related to our hero Greg’s fears of coming out to his parents despite them being utterly wonderful, well meaning people. It’s hard to come out, it’s hard to admit that about yourself, and it’s hard knowing you may not be accepted or things may change. I had an even harder time coming out to my dad, who I fully expected being a trump supporter and having said “if gay marriage is leagal I should be able to marry my cat”, to not support me and to loose him.. and was proud and suprised when nope, he was utterly supportive and happy for me.. if a bit awkward with the “be careful with sex” advice.. to someone whose had none and may never will due to being awkward as shit. But he meant well and the point is I really related to this, and it’s easily one of the best coming out stories of this kind, tied handily with Schitt’s Creek’s episode about Patrick coming out to his parents that dealt with the same theme.  And naturally given the nature of these shorts it was a story close to Stephen Clay Hunter’s heart, as he group up a gay nerd in the 80′s a time when homophobia was even worse and representation was near non-existent. So when given the shot he wanted to make something for a young him, something they can look at and point to and tha’ts me. And the behind the scenes short for this one sold just how... big this felt for him. To draw two men in love and embrcing, to see guys mo capping that. To see someone LIKE him on screen. It shows just how important representation is and how dumb it is it took 20 goddamn years at pixar for them to get gay. 

The short itsel is delightful as we open with a gay space cat and dog appearing in a rainbow. The Cat and Dog are watching Greg, a nice young man whose moving out of his small town with his boyfriend Manuel.. only to panic when his parents who he hasn’t come out to show up to help move and try and hide the one photo he has of them. And despite Manuel seeing it as a very easy thing to do to come out.. it’s not for Greg. He knows it’s hard and a scene of him practicing shows the poor guy breaking down at the thought of telling them despite getting every indicatio their nice people.  It’s then the whole Space Cat thing comes in as the cat enchanted Greg’s dog’s collar, so when greg puts it on as  a jest, it’s a body swap! So naturally we get tons of REALLY well animated shenanigans as Greg has to get his body back. Seriously the animation here is gorgeous with director Hunter choosing the painted on , impercet style to give it a storybook feel which fits the story perfectly.. seriously if Disney hasn’t made a story book of this do so.. and if they won’t someone on etsy do it because Etsy is apparently where the merch companies should be making happens.

The point is it’s fun, furious and leads to some great gags.. and then we get the emotional punch to the godnand as Greg bites his mom’s hand in order to prevent her finding a photo of him and his boyfriend. He instnatly regrets it, and breaking the photo in the process and goes to comfort her.. and we get easily the most emotinal, most beautiful part of it as Greg finds out his mom is hurt as she can clearly tell he’s keeping her at arms length and dosen’t want to loose him.. and she’s known all along he was gay.. just like the Schitts Creek example it’s clear she’s hurt a bit her son is scared to tell her but just wants him to be happy. So with a brilliant use of a squeaky toy greg switches back.. and comes out, with his dad warmly hugging miguel when he introduces himn and the space dog crying. Just a beautiful, charming, fun, and gorgeously animated short with some badly needed representation.

Also... one last note. This isn’t related to the short.. but Disney, who once again proves they can’t be progressive without stabbing themselves in the foot and no I will not stop giving out about this. This time’s especailly bad as while Out was heavily promoted.. the descripton DOSEN’T mention it having Pixar’s first gay lead and goes out of it’s way to hide Greg being gay despite the fact the short dosen’t and his being in the closet is the whole conflict of the short. And the not mnentiong the first gay lead thing is noticable because Loop DID rightly point out it was their first non verbal proganist. You can’t.. brag about being progressive about one thing and then try to hide your being progressive about another you idiots. Plus the “pleasing the bible belt” ship has sailed and left port. Ducktales is gay as hell with Penny being gay, even if Disney won’t let her just come out and say it, the crew still had her say it as much as they could, Violet’s dad’s being gay, Della being bi and Webby and Lena being as close to a couple you can get without disney screaming at them no. Andi Mack is fully avaliable on D+ as well.. well okay not fully because the dad turned out to be a pedophile, but still a series with a fully gay character is out there. And finally Owl House got TONS of press for having a bi progatanist and having her love intrest be a girl. Even if Dana Terrance had to FIGHT for that, and rightly so good on her, the point is you have queer characters already. The groups that hate you for that aren’t going to magically stop hating you because you hide the fact a short anyone can see from minute one is very , beautifully gay, I mean it starts with a very swishy space cat emerging from a rainbow atop a pink dog. COME ON. I only have a few words left for disney..

Okay whew, one more and we’re out of here. 

Burrow: It’s Okay to Ask for Help and To Bang a Willing Salamander This was the first one I watched today. In hindsight had I properly researched the shorts and realized how heavy they were I probably would’ve saved this one for later to help balance out the deep feels of some of these. While Burrow is VERY VERY good, as all these shorts have been even Float, it’s subject matter is a lot lighter. I mean so far we’ve had stories about toxic masculinity, animal abuse, issues accepting your child is diffrent, sacrficing yourself so your loved one can have a better life, autisim and coming out of the closet. Even Smash and Grab which is light and breezy.. still has a disney death, and is still about a heroic rush to freedom from slavery whenyou think about it. This one.. is about an insecure bunny whose afraid to ask for help and ends up learning to get it while ending up plumiting through a bunch of comedic set pieces. It’s basically if Winnie the Pooh and Bugs Bunny had a baby comedy wise, it has the warm feeling of pooh art wise, a storybook quality tha’ts utterly adoring.. but director Madeline Sharafan specifccally wanted the animators to take after chuck jones, using lots of great expressions and reactions. It has a real classic theatrical screwball comedy vibe and given The Looney Tunes, Droopy, and Tom and Jerry mean the world to me and i’m glad nto reocnnect with 2/3 thanks to HBO Max.. I fucking loved it. 

Burrow is still a personal story and is based on Sharifan’s experinces having trouble colaberating, wanting something to be fully baked before showing it off, something I agian relate to. She often hid from the others and refused to show her work until it was done while everyone else was happy to help. And as the previously used to slam disney hard with something they own Hickman Era of X-men has shown.. colaboration is just better and more freeing. By having friends and colleuge s to bounce off of you refine ideas, see how people react to them and grow a bit and that’s what the shorts about. 

The plot is easily the simpliest of these: A young bunny wants to build her dream burrow but gets self concious when she runs into a friendly mole and rat living next door to where she wants to build and keeps digging to find both privacy and her own place.. and instead ends up digging into various shenangians and other burrows from frogs, to hedgehogs to most memorably some Salmanders taking a sauna.. and in the best and most ‘how the fuck did they get away with this bit of it”, one of the salamanders ends up .. gladly removing his town and being liike “You wanna do this? I mean I got an hour free” And i’m just saying while now wasn’t the time and the offer was a little awkward i’d go for it if I was her. I mean at least ask him out for coffee later. He seems nice enough if low on boundries. Then ride him until the morning light girl, ride it. She also finds the Demon Bear from New Mutants at one point.. so that’s where he retried to after danny kicked his ass again. Neat. 

But eventually our heroione digs herself too deep and ends up hitting water before finding a 

Who sees her crumpled plans and then does the stygian call of the badger to call all the other animals to help and after they escape the flood, the bunny finally realizes their good people and lets them see the plans. So we end on our heroine and her new friends and possible salamander lover helping her settle in as she finallyg ets the home she wanted, complete with disco. I mean every home should have a disco. If I didn’t have a ceeling fan i’d have a disco ball.. and I still want one just to set somewhere or hang away from the fan . Let me dream dammit. Overally a fun, hilarious, mad dash short with a good message and a good note to go out on.

Final Thoughts: Overall.. the Sparkshorts program is fucking spectacular, a great way to let some of Pixar’s staff get into the directors chair and really shine, and a way to tackle issues that they may not be able to get greenlit into a full film. Lushily animated, well produced, Pixar has announced MORE are coming and I cannot wait. Thank you kev for comissioning this, and thank you all for reading. If your new and liked this review, follow this blog as I talk disney all the time: when they come back i’ll be doing regular coverage of Amphibia, Ducktales and the Owl House as new episodes come out every week, and i’m currently doing a retropsective on the three cablleros kev also paid for, with the finale of it, an episode by episode look at the legend of the three cablleros, starting this week. I’m also covering LIfe and times of scrooge mcduck (though infrequently for a bit), and finishing up a look at darkwing duck’s just us justice ducks, started with looks at all the players involved and finshing next week with the episode itself.  So if any of that sounds good to you, check out the archives, but goodbye, goodbye, goodbye for now. 

[ad1thi]

If your still doing fic recs, could u rec any soft stevetony ones?

absolutely!! this got pretty long so ive hidden most of it under a read-more so i don’t annoy people. a couple of authors feature more than once. ive tried to avoid that as much as possible, but if an author features more than once - take that as a sign that they have rly good stuff for soft stevetony

disclaimer: don’t forget to leave kudos and comments for every author!! (a disclaimer i regrettably forgot to add to previous fic rec lists but will be adding from now on)

soda pops: @starklysteve

If anybody asks, Steve would smile and say it was very romantic. Very Tony. Because if he went into any further detail, nobody would quite believe him.

Tony, on the other hand, would laugh and say that Steve’s in love with a man in a can. So, really, it wasn’t outside the natural progression of things.

me voy pa’l pueblo: @firebrands

two times steve walks away, and one time that tony walks with him.

/ or, my very fluffy take on my bingo card prompt "farewells." steve is on vacation when he meets tony.

fill for my stony bingo prompt: farewells; also for bookworminaslump on tumblr who asked for a tourist/knowledgeable local au!

Tumblr Ficlets:  @omg-just-peachy (this is 115 chapters of stevetony being soft!!)

A collection of enough tooth-rotting fluff to last a year, all in one place.

tender offerings: @omg-just-peachy

Five times Steve carried Tony to bed.

the best thing (is that it’s happening to you and me):  @captainstarkreportingforduty

Or, five times the team saw Steve Rogers and Tony Stark in love.

Sweet On You: @miniblackraven

It’s the 1940’s and Tony is working as a Donut Doll for the Red Cross. His job is to go around to various military bases and offer comfort food and conversation to homesick soldiers. He’s come to expect a lot of things in this job, but he doesn’t expect to fall in love with Captain America, the hottest most awkward soldier Tony has ever met.

Bespectacled Avengers Society (Membership of One):  @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

Tony gets glasses. Glasses get a Tony. Steve loses his mind and walks into walls.

a flower crown for your love: @anthonyed

"There, there," Pepper cooed. "Tony likes flowers?" she said with a shred of doubt in her tone. But when Steve peered up, she's smiling her bright toothy smile. He squinted and she sighed, dropping her hand from his shoulder. "He does." she insisted. "Even more so than me."

if this was a movie: @omg-just-peachy

“One of our seniors is being generous with his time this year—by force of his own actions, but generous none the less—and he’d be happy to help you, I’m sure. Tony Stark? I’ll set something up for later this week. I think between the two of you you’ll be able to pull your average up enough to make it through to playoffs,” Coulson said, with that ever-hopeful lilt in his voice.

Or, Steve needs a calculus tutor, Tony is available, but how is Steve ever supposed to focus when he's been in love with Tony for ... his entire school life?

you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands

tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list

amore mio:  @brucewaynery

Tony has had it with Steve being dumb and reckless out in the field, he has a family to think about now, Steve promises him that he'll be with him, kingdom come.

(initially based on that one headcanon about Italian Tony yelling and gesticulating at Steve but Peter thinks he's doing some weird dance and tries to copy him, but it got very fluffy very quickly)

Lost My Mind in a Coffee Shop: @betheflame

“Boyo,” Bucky muttered to his best friend. “I swear to God that if you don’t ask that man for his number soon, I will create a Grindr profile for you and you will not like it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I am here to finish grading, not hit on men.”

“Can you not do both?” Natasha smirked. “Nearly tenured, historical genius, feels like something you should be able to multitask.”

&&&

In which Steve is a history professor and Tony's an engineering one and Bucky owns the joint where they have their meet cute.

AU-gust Chapter 7: @iam93percentstardust 

stevetony, childhood friends AU

Right Up The Road: @gottalovev

The day at the senate committee in Washington DC wasn't supposed to end with Tony and Steve transformed into animals by a baby witch. That said, the 350 miles trek back to the compound to get help promises to be quite an adventure too!

(or the adventures of Cat!Tony and Wolf!Steve - and how to readjust when you're back to human!)

i’ll take care of you: @elcorhamletlive

“Hi.”

Steve blinks. The sound of loud thunder roars outside, but he doesn’t jolt, too focused on the image in front of him to be startled by the noise.

He has no idea what to say, and he isn’t sure if the shock is because of Tony’s absolutely sodden state – his hair glued to his forehead, his clothes dripping with water, forming a small puddle in front of Steve’s door – or because he wasn’t expecting to see Tony for at least three more days.

“Hi?” he says, a little tentative, before his brain catches up to reality. In his defense, he was getting ready to sleep when Tony knocked. He looks at what Tony is holding – a wet mess that seems to have been a flower bouquet at some point. “What are you doing here?”

The Tally System:  @betheflame

Everyone on the team knew about the tally system.

Whenever Steve would save Tony - whether from a monster or from his own stupidity - he’d say, “tag”. Whenever Tony do the same, he’d say, “your turn”. Thor thought it was adorable, Clint thought it was ridiculous, Bruce refused to register an opinion.

Natasha thought it was something she could work with.

what’s mine is yours: @robertdowneyjjr

5 times Tony stole Steve’s clothes, and 1 time Steve returned the favor.

or

For a billionaire, Tony Stark really doesn't pay for a lot of what he wears.

I like Shiny Things But I’d Marry You With Paper Rings: @betheflame

Rhodey: I just confirmed with Sam that he’s going to make sure he cooks tonight and that his entire team is briefed. I’m heading over now to strategically arrange a fuck ton of ficus trees to block them from gen pop.

Pepper: They’re not getting engaged in a prison, Jimmy.

Rhodey: Tony Stark and Steve Rogers show up to Circe on a Saturday night in May and you watch every person in that restaurant turn into someone I’d rather arrest than eat with.

****

In which Tony and Steve get engaged, but they're kind of extra about it, because they are always themselves

the road to the stars: @shell-heads

Tony is seven years old when he sees the ballet for the first time and meets his future pas de deux partner.

His father is invited to sweet-talk politicians into a new weapons deal and explain his latest idea for their program, and his mom goes to catch up with old friends she hasn't seen in years, but Tony goes because his mom had smiled down at him and told him he would love it.

His mom's never wrong.

-

In which boy genius Tony Stark meets girl wonder Natasha Romanoff at the ballet, and they fit their broken little pieces together to make something beautiful on the dance floor.

Steve? He's just a dumb, awful, chaotic, extremely supportive older brother that really should just shut up and admit he likes Tony a lot more than he pretends, because Natasha only has five people in the world she likes; it only makes sense her two favorites would fall in love with one another.

They always were a little slow, though.

A Second Chance To Take it Slow: @omg-just-peachy

Tony loves his adopted son, Peter, but that doesn't stop him from wishing he had someone to do this whole parenting thing with. After a failed one night stand, Tony's parent-teacher conference with Mr. Rogers comes with quite the surprise.

Wake Up!: @randomstufffromotherblogs

Tony came home from a business trip and is woken up by his husband and their three-year old.

pull me closer to love:  @captainstakreportingforduty (part of a series)

“A Mother’s Day card? For... Tony?” Steve clarifies, and can’t help the smile on his face as six familiar little heads nod in response.

“But... guys, Tony’s not—“ he pauses and takes a breath, any explanation dying in his throat against the excited gleam in everyone’s eyes. “Why do you guys want to do that, hmm?"

compromises:  @robertpattisons (when i looked up OP on tumblr, this is the blog i was directed to - but i sincerely apologise if ive gotten it wrong)

Steve should have expected it, he really should have.

There were regulations that came with dating Tony Stark. Things that were clear and things that they needed to work through.

Things like how Steve always got strawberry ice cream, while Tony got rocky road. Or when Steve needed to get his homework done before he was down to make out - even though Tony always got his way.

Things like that were clear

all that you are is all that i’ll ever need: @natasharxmanov

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers announced their engagement on Good Morning America through Tony Stark’s previous secretary now CEO, Pepper Potts. And over this past weekend, I got the chance to sit down with them both, to visit their home and attend their gala, all to write this article about the most powerful couple in the world.

(Or, the fic in which Tony and Steve get married.)

(i won’t ever) trade my mistakes: @brucewaynery

Toddler Peter, painting a masterpiece with his dad.

aka: a dumb amount of family fluff to help you power through the week

[yostresswritinggirl]

Hey i’m sorry to bother you and feel free to ignore this!! i really admire your writing and it’s inspired me to have a go at writing my own genshin fic..... do you have any tips for someone who’s just starting writing? i hope you have a lovely day!

Aaaaaa anon, you're too kind and sweet!! I'm glad you get to channel your creativity, I hope you keep enjoying! So you asked for writing tips, I almost placed down blog tips too ahaha, I hope this would be enough because I honestly forgot the other points:

Imagine: Take most of your time imagining the scenarios of your fic before writing. I feel like this helps not only on giving you the right details and ambience but also helps with your fic's length. The better visual you have in your head about your fic, the easier it would be to write on paper!

Comforts: Understand your weakness and strength in writing, and see how you can utilize it into your fics. Are you more familiar with descriptive writing or dialogues? Bring focus on what you're comfortable with before adjusting to a proper balance.

Ideas: Sometimes inspiration from other people is good for you, take a look around and gather some of your thoughts into paper, spice it up and twist it to make it more enjoyable. Inspiration can be taken from anywhere so if you feel like you're lacking ideas, take time away from writing to get your mind working on ideas!

Perfection: A lot of people stress over beta-reading and perfect grammar, and that really isn't necessary. You can survive with a simple writing tool to help with spelling mistakes and simple grammar, remember that simple words are enough to create masterpieces. Don't be caught up with the fact that you don't use that much complex words to describe actions, sometimes the fic gets 'stuffy' if you focus too much on these details. Speaking of—

Details: Details are usually added for length or variety, and the thing you need to know the most when writing such things is that "put focus on details that matter." You don't need to describe a character's whole outfit because everyone knows that, you don't have to point out every twitch and step a person does. Sometimes a glint of a person's eye is enough, sometimes the shine on one's hair depicts the time of day.

Setting: A fic without a set exact place can go through, but when you cater to readers, hinting at what the background is helps them get more immersed in visualizing your writing. You don't have to make the writing swoop over the whole architecture of the room, one swoop detail like a paper on a table or a chopsticks placed on a bowl would give the idea of where the characters are.

Surface Writing: There are two ends of the spectrum in basic writing, surface touches the base level of what a person sees while deep focuses on the emotions and thoughts a character feels. Strive for a balance if it's necessary, too much surface writing would make the characters feel disconnected, while too much emotions would feel as tho you're just in headspace.

These are just surface details to writing in general, and of course, everyone has different techniques and methods on how they write so don't take all these to heart! Adjust and find your own comfort, and at the end of the day, remember that the most important part of writing is that you (the author) enjoy what you do all the way. Good luck, anon, and may you have fun always!

[spa-ghett0]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ JATP WEEK - DAY ONE: FAVORITE CHARACTER(S) ♥

(i don’t have one favorite character, so i wrote something from different POVs of my main five :)) @jatp-week 

also i forgot ghosts don’t sleep. we’re pretending like they do today

––––––

FLYNN

“Flynn, no pressure, but I’m performing tonight,” Julie says while Flynn is dipping her brush into the black paint. “So, you know, make me look pretty.”

Flynn gasps, almost jerking her hand when she looks back at Julie. Julie catches her wrist before she can fling paint everywhere. “You didn’t tell me you were performing tonight!” She pauses, looking over her current progress. “Now I’m nervous.”

“I have total faith in you.” Julie’s eyes dart between the paint brush and Flynn. “But show me how it looks so far?”

Pursing her lips, Flynn shakes her head, grabs Julie’s shoulder, and aims the paintbrush at her cheek. “No way. You didn’t let me see until you were finished.”

“But—” Julie freezes when the brush touches the corner of her mouth, and her eyes quickly move to something behind Flynn. Her lips begin to twitch into a smile.

“Hey, hey!” Flynn cries. “No moving.”

“The guys are confused.”

“I’ll explain. You stay quiet.” Flynn gives her a second to stop laughing before continuing the delicate line she’s trying to curve across her cheek. She takes it slow—agonizingly, if Julie’s eyes are anything to go by. “So,” Flynn begins loudly to the dense air around her, “we’re getting ready for Day of the Dead, which is a holiday Julie’s family celebrates. I’m trying to draw a sugar skull design on her, like she did for me.”

Julie has always been the residential sugar skull designer in the house. She always drew Carlos’ face, her mom’s, and Flynn and Carrie’s. Usually, she does herself too, but this is their first Day of the Dead without her mom, so Flynn has decided to take the paintbrush into her own hands and surprise Julie with something beautiful—or try to, anyway.

Flynn’s face looks awesome. Julie painted only half in white with a fissured edge down the center of her face. From her eyebrow to her cheekbone, her eye is circled in green and lined with black. Half of Flynn’s mouth stretching to the middle of her cheek has been transformed into skeletal teeth with a vibrant green glow. Her dimple has layers upon layers of dark and light green paint, carefully blended to look like a real skull indentation. Small black circles line the top of her eyebrow, and thin black lines curve across the empty space of her cheek.

For Julie, Flynn is going for a more simplistic look—all of the drawing talent in the friendship seems to have been swallowed up by Julie. Right now, she’s focused on a curved black mouth stretching from one ear to another, adding extra detail to her lips to create a stitched effect, and then? She’ll figure it out from there.

“And I’m not taking any opinions from them,” Flynn declares. She holds her breath until the second line finally meets her ear and she’s finished with the mouth base. “They’re probably biased.”

Julie smiles as Flynn grabs her paint cup. “Actually, Alex says he likes what you’re doing so far.”

“… I’m only taking feedback from Alex.”

Julie laughs. Flynn can’t fight back her smile. “Reggie and Luke like it too,” she adds, smiling up at the space behind the couch. “They think I look scary.”

“How do I look?” Flynn asks, brushing her hair out of her face and looking up at the air, as if she can really see them. She wishes she could.

“They say you look amazing,” Julie translates. “I did that, by the way, so thank you.” She grins at them. Someone must reach for a fist bump, cause she moves her fist across the couch.

“Okay, if you’re going to stay, you can’t make her laugh.” Flynn leans forward, carefully painting over the tip of her nose. “She has a performance tonight, and if I mess up, you can’t fix it. I forbid it.”

“No—” Julie whines.

“You knew the risks when you agreed to let me do this!”

“You didn’t give me a choice!”

Flynn smacks her. “Stop smiling!” But she’s grinning too. It’s hard—how can you look at your best friend and not smile? Flynn waves a hand between them. “Okay, okay, we have to get this done. My hand is tired.”

Julie chuckles. “Okay.” She glances to her left. “No, I didn’t tell anyone I’m performing tonight. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Then why’d you tell me?” Flynn demands.

“To make sure you don’t make me look bad!”

Flynn scoffs. Her finger lifts Julie’s chin to make their eyes meet. “Girl, it’ll take a lot of paint to make you look bad.”

Julie grins.

“And Luke better not have said something equally as cute just then.”

“No—” Julie says it like the idea is overly ridiculous, and Flynn wants to roll her eyes. “Of course not.”

“Mmhm. Hold still.”

Julie and Luke are dating. Flynn isn’t sure how that works—him being a ghost and everything—but Julie makes it make sense. And what can Flynn say? As long as Julie’s happy…

Forty-five minutes later, she sits back with a sigh to admire her work. One of the guys poofed into Julie’s room to grab her makeup bag, so Julie’s eyes are shining with pink and purple eyeshadow to match the pink patch surrounding her right eye. Flynn finished Julie’s eye with a thin black ring and pink and purple circles curved halfway around the top and bottom of her eye. Her nose is black—Flynn’s sure she’ll add more detail in her room later. Then Flynn will complain that she messed with a masterpiece, even though she’ll love whatever additions Julie draws in.

“Wow, okay,” Julie says, looking at herself in her phone’s camera. “This looks so good. Way to pop off, Flynn.”

Flynn waves herself. “Thank you, thank you. It’s my hidden talent.”

Julie grins over her phone. They share a beat of silence before bursting into laughter. Julie leans forward, throwing an arm around Flynn’s shoulders and holding her phone above their heads. They take bursts of pictures, some serious, most silly. They play with Snapchat filters, film TikToks. It’s fun—Day of the Dead is always fun. Especially this year: the year Julie found her music again.

–––––

LUKE

He knocks before entering her room. As he passes through the door, he can hear Flynn and Carlos arguing about what color icing should go on the cupcakes. Alex and Reggie are down there too; he hopes Alex doesn’t let Reggie do anything crazy tonight.

Julie’s sitting in front of her mirror, humming and painting over her eye. She glances at him as she walks in.

Luke chuckles. “Flynn’s not going to be happy you’re changing her design.” He pulls her desk chair over and takes a seat next to her.

“I’m not changing it.” Julie dips her brush into pink paint. “I’m just… adding some stuff. I had an idea.”

“Flowers?”

“Dahlias.” She side eyes him and smiles. “My mom loved dahlias.” She balances her palette on her knees, steadying it with one hand while leaning forward to paint a second flower at the corner of her eyebrow.

“Here,” Luke offers, reaching under her arm to grab the paint. He holds the palette next to her, and when she reaches over to dip her brush, she smiles in thanks. “So, what exactly is Day of the Dead?”

“First of all, it’s usually pronounced Día de los Muertos,” she begins. Oh God, he loves when she speaks Spanish. “It’s a three day festival where we celebrate the lives of those we’ve lost. My dad’s side is coming over—we always celebrate with the Molinas. My mom was Puerto Rican; they don’t really observe this holiday. But she celebrated with my dad when they first started dating, and she fell in love with the holiday.”

“What’s so great about it?”

Julie waves a hand at her face. “The makeup. The costumes. The music, dancing, food… Just having family around. Being completely immersed in our culture.” She shrugs at him. “We speak Spanish sometimes around the house, but it’s my grandparents’ first language. They had to learn English when they first came to America, but they prefer Spanish.”

“Where’d they come from?”

“Panama.” Julie pauses, carefully painting leaves around the base of her dahlia. “My grandparents have ofrendas set up at their house—ofrendas are altars where we leave offerings for those who have passed. Tonight, we’re going to the cemetery to visit Mom’s grave.”

He notices the way she falters when she mentions her mom. He hates when that happens; always wants to kiss away the sadness. When Julie puts down her paintbrush, he takes her hand in his.

“Hey,” he whispers, running his thumb over her knuckles.

Julie takes a deep breath. “We didn’t celebrate last year; it was too close to Mom passing away.” She shrugs. “We didn’t have it in us.”

“This is your first year without her,” Luke realizes quietly.

“We have an ofrenda downstairs for her. Dad and Carlos did most of it. I was supposed to find some stuff in the studio, but—” She shakes her head. “It’s just weird. This was her favorite holiday, and now she’s—” Julie rolls her eyes. “I know it’s been a year, but—”

“Hey,” Luke interrupts. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers linger against her skin, cupping her cheek, mindful of the paint. “This is your first year without her. It’s okay to still be sad, Jules.”

Julie’s next breath is shaky; her eyes are glossy as she looks away. “Can’t cry,” she mumbles, shaking her head. “Flynn will kill me.”

Luke laughs. Behind him, he hears the whoosh of Alex and Reggie poofing in her room. Julie smiles weakly at them.

“Were we interrupting?” Reggie asks, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

Alex shakes his head. “Sorry. He kept stealing Flynn’s cupcakes to give to Carlos, and I knew he’d either scare your tía or Flynn would hit him with a spatula if we didn’t get out of there.”

“Carlos deserved to win—”

Julie laughs out loud. She wipes at her eyes carefully; Luke hopes she’s forgotten her grief for now. Luke grins at her. He loves her laugh. Have I mentioned he’s kinda just in love with her?

“We have a little bit before my family arrives,” Julie says, checking her phone. She tugs her lip between her teeth. “And I have extra paint…?”

Reggie bounces on his feet. “Yes!” he cries. “I want a face painting!”

As soon as Luke steps away from the chair, Reggie is there, knees bumping against Julie’s. “Make me look cool.”

Alex lays across her bed, resting his chin in his hands as he watches them. Luke hands the palette to Julie and steps out of her way. While she works on pouring more paint out, he dips his head and presses a soft kiss to her hair. Then he takes a seat next to Alex.

Luke grins. “I want next!”

–––––

REGGIE

He knows the party is really in full swing when the sugar skulls are beginning to set in and the children running around are almost as loud as Julie’s cousins playing music in the living room. Carlos’ real teeth are black; they match the set Julie painted on him. It looks a little creepy; his tía Victoria demands he go brush every time he grins at her in passing.

Reggie ducks past people as if they won’t pass through him; it’s still weird to him, and he knows they feel the same way. At some point, he was separated from his friends. He sees Luke and Julie every now and then—Julie’s making her rounds with her family, and Luke is by her side, always—but he hasn’t seen Alex in a while. He wonders, in the back of his mind, if Alex is even still around. Would he leave a party? He’s done it before. If there’s a chance he can hangout with Willie? No doubt. But would he leave Julie’s party to hangout with Willie? Hm… nah.

His favorite thing, he thinks as he walks through the house, is the atmosphere. There are so many people around—and most are Ray’s siblings! Julie mentioned in the middle of face painting that Latino families are often big, but he wasn’t expecting this! He loves it, though. Sometimes he lingers in a room before moving on, and he hears stories about Ray from his siblings: childhood mishaps and teenage antics.

And with so many siblings comes cousins. They range in age, from Carlos’ to Reggie’s. He overhears Carlos tell the other kids about the ghosts that haunt their house—Reggie leaves with a personal promise to prove him right later.

On his second walk through the living room, he finally spots his friends: Alex is sitting on the arm of the couch next to Flynn with Luke next to him. Julie stands beside an older man with a long beard and a guitar on his lap. Just as Reggie’s about to cross the room to them, something catches his eye.

It’s a shelf to his left, spotted with candles, photos, and flowers. He steps closer, curious. There’s a picture of Julie’s mom in a frame on top, he thinks. She looks… familiar. On the first shelf down is a pair of drumsticks and guitar picks. Reggie frowns. Why are there… drumsticks? He reaches for them. They couldn’t be Alex’s… could they? Why would his drumsticks be—

“I told you our house is haunted!” Carlos cries, and that’s when Reggie notices how quiet everything is suddenly. The drumsticks bounce against his fingers and roll back against the shelf wall.

“Reggie,” Alex hisses behind him.

“Dude, your drumsticks are up here!” Reggie cries.

“My—What?”

Julie moves when no one else does. She’s not looking at Reggie, but he begins apologizing anyway, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare everyone.”

“It’s okay,” she says quietly, reaching for the sticks. “Whose are…?”

“I found them in a box of your mother’s things in the studio,” Ray explains, walking over.

Reggie throws a knowing look at Alex. Alex frowns and summons his drumsticks. They appear in his hand in a flash, and when Reggie turns back, there’s still a pair in Julie’s hand.

“Oh,” she says. “I didn’t know she played.”

Ray chuckles. “Your mother played every instrument she could. Now, there’s a difference in playing and actually sounding good… Drumming is not something she excelled at.”

This earns a round of laughter from their family. From Julie, who’s beaming under her makeup at the new information. From Alex, who adds a “If that isn’t a mood” under his breath.

“What—” Luke argues. “Dude, you’re literally a drummer.”

“I make it look easy.”

Luke rolls his eyes.

“The guitar picks are hers too,” Ray adds, pushing them into his hand. “Look, they have the logos from each of the bands she was in.”

Julie looks them over. “I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “I should’ve grabbed these from the studio. You told me to find things for her ofrenda, but I—”

“Hey, it’s okay mija,” Ray interrupts. He squeezes her shoulder. “It was actually fun going through her old stuff again. I, personally, haven’t seen these in years.”

Reggie realizes he’s smiling long before Julie finds her strength again. He loves the father-daughter moments they have, even though he has a nagging feeling that he should be over by Luke and Alex and not intruding. Their relationship is addicting, though. He’s never had that with his father.

Maybe… that’s a can of worms to open on another day.

“Speaking of talent,” the man with the guitar says, “Julie? Cantar para nosotros?”

Reggie doesn’t know what he said, but Julie does. She nods. As they part ways—Ray moving past to fix the ofrenda, Reggie walking toward his friends, and Julie heading for the front of the room—Reggie squeezes Julie’s shoulder in passing. They share a quick smile.

“Good luck,” he says. She can’t respond, but he knows her smile is for him.

–––––

ALEX

Alex has never experienced this type of music live. They have a whole band up there—two guitarists, a woman sitting on a cajón box, and Julie with vocals in the center.

“And now you see Julie’s other band,” Flynn whispers to them. “The Molinas.”

The song begins softly. Alex can’t understand anything Julie’s singing, but he doesn’t have to know the words to hear her voice. As the beat picks up, so does her volume. He can see the moment she loses herself completely to the music; it’s the same at their own concerts: her eyes squeezing shut, one hand pressed in front of her and the other at her side. She can’t stand still, either. Julie steps over her younger siblings sitting on the ground carefully, but she’s bouncing on the soles of her feet. The music’s contagious—by the time she’s danced around the room and made it back to where she started, the whole room is clapping on beat. They’re grinning at each other, some singing along, some cheering.

Alex can’t fight a smile. It’s impossible. He looks at Luke and Reggie—they mirror him. The energy Julie and her family has created is infectious, as music should be; even if he still doesn’t know what she’s saying.

Julie ends the song on her own with a stretched out note, instruments falling away with each beat she holds in a breath he can’t believe is possible. Everyone watches with bated breath, anticipation, building excitement for this girl. Julie Molina—Alex shakes his head in disbelief. What a damn star.

Flynn leaps to her feet when Julie finally takes a breath. “WOO!” she shouts. “Go off girl!”

Alex finds himself laughing when the room erupts into cheers. Luke is practically vibrating with excitement. Reggie shouts with Flynn.

Julie takes a bow, shoulders bouncing with quickened breath and eyes shining under the dark makeup.

Flynn yanks her into a tight hug. “Oh my gosh, that was incredible!” she cries.

“Seriously,” Alex agrees. “You killed it.” He fist bumps her, hidden from the rest of the room in front of Flynn.

“I have no idea what you said, but it was beautiful,” Reggie adds, starstruck.

Luke grins at her. “You never cease to amaze me, Jules.”

As the excitement dies down, so does the party. The family disperses in groups until Carlos and Julie are hugging tía Victoria goodbye, and Ray is closing the door to a finally quiet home.

“So,” Ray says, turning to his kids. “One last thing to do tonight.”

Carlos nods. “I’ll grab the candles.”

"And I'll get… everything else," Julie adds. She glances at Alex and the others on her way up the stairs.

They meet her in her room. Alex sits on her bed. "So, what's next?"

"We're going to the cemetery to visit Mom's grave," Julie explains, opening her closet. She grabs a bag and joins Alex on the bed. "You guys can come if you want. People light up the graves with candles and lights—it's beautiful."

Sounds beautiful, but—Alex looks over at Luke and Reggie. They meet his gaze with as much hesitation as he feels.

"I think we're going to hang back," Luke admits softly. "It's, um… I think it's kind of weird for us, you know? Since we're…"

Julie blinks. "Oh, right. Duh. Of course." She shakes her head. "That's okay."

Alex smiles. "But we'll be here when you get home."

She nods, returning his smile. Her eyes flicker to something behind him, and she hurries around the bed. Alex is just turning to her when Reggie gasps.

“The box," he whispers, eyes wide.

"Don't act like at least one of you hasn't been in here already," Julie mutters, opening the box on her bed.

Alex and Reggie throw a look at Luke, who's chewing his lip sheepishly.

"What're you doing?" Luke asks, moving to her side.

"I—" Julie quickly tucks a piece of paper into her pocket. "I'm just… It's an offering for her."

Luke frowns. "Okay. Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's—"

"Julie!" Ray calls up the stairs. "You ready?"

Julie sighs. "Yeah, dad!" She shifts her weight, glancing between them. "I'll tell you guys later, okay?"

Reggie nods. "Yeah, of course."

She takes two steps toward the door before turning back to them. "Group hug?" she asks hopefully. "Real quick?"

Reggie immediately wraps his arms around her. "Like you even have to ask," he mutters. They chuckle. Alex rolls off the bed, and he and Luke join in. They've been doing this a lot more: hugging. Ever since they've been able to touch each other, this has become their thing. Not that Alex is complaining.

When Julie pulls away, she's smiling so wide. Alex smiles back, but he can't help thinking there's something behind that skeletal grin. He doesn't ask; none of them do. They let her go, despite the feeling gnawing at him. Later, he decides. Hopefully they can figure it out later.

–––––

JULIE

The cemetery was always Julie’s mom’s favorite part of Día de los Muertos. There’s a chilling beauty in a sea of lights across acres of land, crowded with people who can all relate on some level.

Rose Molina’s grave is lined with white and blue candles—she always loved the ones that smelled like the ocean. There are guitar picks scattered across the stone, most of which didn’t come from them. Ray suggested previous bandmates; Julie has never met the previous bandmates. She wants to one day; hopes to.

They stay with her for a while. She doesn’t know how long they sit by her, telling her stories about what’s happening in the past year. They have a lot to catch up on—Julie’s sure this is Carlos’ first visit since she died. It’s definitely Julie’s. Her dad’s been here a few times, only once or twice. She wonders if there have been any recent visits.

There are tears in her eyes when they finally stand to leave. Her dad catches it somehow—she’s sure her dark makeup shadowed by the dim light would’ve covered her—and before she can blink, he’s wrapping his arms around her in a tight hold. She would’ve buried her face in his chest if she had washed her paint off. But she didn’t, so she doesn’t hug as tight as she wants, and she pulls away too soon.

As they’re leaving, Julie remembers the note in her pocket. “Wait,” she says, falling out of step with them. “I forgot something.” She lingers, shifting her weight. “Can I meet you in the car?”

Carlos frowns. Dad nods. “Of course,” he says softly.

Julie watches them go, disappearing in the crowd. In just a blink, she’s alone. The note is heavy in her chest. With a deep breath, she turns back to her mom.

“Hey,” she says, sinking to her knees. “I have something I want to show you.” She crosses her legs under her and unfolds the note in her hands. “Remember that song we started writing while you were in the hospital? Stand Tall? We never… got to finish it…” With trembling hands, Julie slips the note beneath a picture frame Carlos left at the base of the stone. It’s a moment captured after Julie’s performance at The Orpheum: her, Carlos, Dad, and tía Victoria, posing under the Julie and the Phantoms sign.

“Well, my friend Luke helped me write that second verse,” she continues. “He’s—He’s kind of more than my friend. You know who he is, and what he is.” She laughs. “Don’t judge me too hard for this relationship, okay? He’s really… a great guy. They all are: Alex, Luke, and Reggie. They’ve helped me in… more ways that I can put into words.” The next time she laughs, her voice is shaking. She sniffs; the black on her nose smears across her hand when she rubs her face. “Anyway, um, I just wanted to give you this. And I wanted to tell you thanks. Thanks for sending the guys to me. Thanks for giving me the courage to get back into music. Thanks for…”

Julie shakes her head. The tears are back—she tries swallowing them back. Maybe if she can just hold it in for a little bit longer, at least until she takes the paint off—

“I really miss you, Mom,” she says carefully, slowly, like every word takes all of her strength. “A lot. Every day. I miss you. I miss you. I love you.”

Someone stops behind her stone. Two people, actually. Julie sniffs. She wipes at her nose again; she doesn’t care what she looks like now.

“Julie?”

That’s weird. Sounds almost like—

“Carrie?”

Julie brushes off her pants when she climbs to her feet. She sniffs again, eyeing the pair across from her: Carrie and Trevor Wilson. Trevor is holding a bouquet of flowers; it takes her breath away—dahlias.

“We were just coming out to pay our respects,” Trevor says. He separates a dahlia and hands it to her.

“Nice makeup,” Carrie says, not unkindly. She’s actually smiling, kind of like she used to when they were friends.

“Thanks, I—Flynn did it. Well, not…” Julie gestures to the smudged paint.

“Right.” Carrie reaches into her bag and offers a wad of tissues. Julie takes them with a smile. They share a nod, Julie thanks Trevor for the flower, and they go their separate ways. At least Julie doesn’t feel as heavy as usual when she walks away from Carrie.

At home, when her face is clean of any paint and she can see herself again, she steps into her animal slippers and makes her way down to the studio. The guys are waiting, just like they said they would. They smile when they see her, and she smiles back, but her gaze settles on the piano, and then she can’t look away from the piano.

Two years ago, she played a song while her mom strutted around the studio, pretending to sing terribly and still managing to sound like an angel. The year before that, Julie and her family sat on the floor surrounded by candles and told ghost stories because an earthquake knocked out their electricity (that’s where Carlos’ fascination comes from). The year before that, they—

Julie’s lip quivers. Her fingers curl around the arm of the couch, her vision blurs, and everything hurts. Someone’s in front of her in seconds—it’s Luke. He’s holding her close, tight against him, fingers in her hair, and she just breaks.

Her hands tighten into fists around his shirt. She buries her face in his shoulder; now that she’s started, she can’t stop. She tries to speak, to explain, but—

“Shh,” he whispers. He rubs circles into her back. “I know. I know, baby.” He kisses her hair. “It’s okay, Jules.”

She doesn’t try speaking again, and when Alex and Reggie join the hug, she just cries harder.

When she wakes the next morning, she’s on the couch. Luke’s behind her, an arm around her waist, legs tangled. Alex is in front of her, sitting against the couch with his cheek pressed against the cushion. She grimaces for him; that can’t be comfortable. On the floor, with his head in Alex’s lap is Reggie, curled in a ball against the couch. They never left her side last night.

With a heart swelling with warmth, Julie snuggles closer to Luke. Her movement causes him to hold tighter, which takes her breath away.

Julie smiles at something across from her before going back to sleep.

Laying on the coffee table in front of Alex, at the edge, as if it doesn’t want to leave her side either, is the dahlia.

[cinanamon]

walking masterpiece — jjh

pairing | jaehyun x reader

genre | fluff, angst, college!au, artist!au, unrequited love!au

word count | 1.9K

synopsis | He was your muse; what inspired you to keep creating, in hopes of coming a little bit closer to reaching something even a fraction like him.

warnings | none

He was a walking masterpiece. With each stride a new stroke of the brush, with each laugh another layer on the canvas. His eyes a decorative detail by master artists, his passion the complementing color palette. He was a DaVinci painting, a Michaelangelo statue; a creation of the gods themselves, sculpted to perfection in looks and personality.

He was your muse; what inspired you to keep creating, in hopes of coming a little bit closer to reaching something even a fraction like him.

Not that you’d tell him that.

You glanced up at him from your place under the tree, trying to memorize his bone structure from the angle you saw, and then repeating the shadows and highlights on your paper. You could hear his laugh resound throughout the quad, and a smile etched itself on your face as your pencil moved. When you looked back up for another peek of your target’s face, his eyes met yours.

His eyes fluttered down to your sketchbook, and he said something to his friends without breaking eye-contact. Your mouth almost dropped when he started walking towards you. And guessing from his friends moving in the opposite direction, Jaehyun was coming alone. Your breathe got caught in your throat as he came closer, and you had to remind yourself not to stare.

As he stopped beside you, you blinked up at him with eyes that saw the stars. Thankfully, Jaehyun didn’t notice.

“Can I sit here?” You quickly dropped your gaze and nodded hastily, fidgeting with your pencil as he dropped his bag and leaned against the tree. Your mind was buzzing at the thought of your crush sitting just inches away from, his arm grazing yours and his sculpted face looking at you. You felt like you were on cloud nine.

“What’re you drawing?” And then you fell right back to Earth. At the mention of your art, you hurriedly slammed the cover shut because you were drawing him, oh my God.

“Oh, uh, nothing much.” You tried to shrug it off, your eyes trailing over the cover of your sketchbook.

“Really? Were you drawing the flowers?” He pointed at the rose bush that he had been standing in front of moments ago. “I saw you looking there a few times.”

“Y-yes! I was!” Good cover, you thought. Your mind squealed only a moment because he had just admitted that he looked at you a few times. It didn’t mean anything, you hissed to yourself.

“Can I see them?” He asked again, and you wanted to draw him right then and there, you wanted to capture the curious glint in his eyes with your watercolors.

“Um, no, no, they’re not that good,” you tried to deter him, shakily strengthening your grip on your notebook.

“Are you sure? I thought you were a really good art major.”

You tried to fight down a roaring blush. “Ah, I’m not that good,” you glanced up at his pout and, finding it adorable and wanting to make him happy, let an offer slip out, “I can draw them again, if you want to watch.”

His eyes lit up and in turn your creativity went up several notches. “If you can, yeah!” He scooted closer so your legs touched and leaned over your shoulder for a better view.

You cleared your throat in a pitiful attempt to relax yourself, which was hard because your crush was literally about to watch you draw, the only thing you thought you were good at.

You threw your notebook open to a page farther back, so that you didn’t accidentally open to a drawing of him and ruin all chances you might not even have with him—you took a deep breath and willed yourself to begin sketching.

It was bad at first; your lines were skewed and shaky from nerves, but as you drew, the more comfortable you became. This was your talent; your passion and skill. You were confident in your artistic ability, and as you finished, you had drawn an exact replica of the bush, down to the last stroke and shade. You almost forgot that Jaehyun was there until he spoke again.

“You’re so good! Can you draw me?” At your blank gaze turned to him, he hesitated and backtracked. “It’s fine if you don’t want to; I was a little pushy and you don’t know me that well—“

“No it’s fine,” your voice was surprisingly steady as you smiled at him. “I’d love to draw you.” And you would. To be able to draw your muse up close with permission, to stare and commit each detail to memory, to your heart’s content, without him thinking it was creepy, was all you could wish for. He even wanted you to.

Jaehyun smiled brightly and moved back, posing against the tree and silently asking if that was good enough to draw. You nodded and made room for yourself, opening to the next clean sheet of paper.

You took a deep breath. This was probably going to be the only time you could draw him like this; to have a chance to be up close and personal and known and wanted. Your throat constricted but your heart rate accelerated as your pencil touched the paper gently, carving a masterpiece out of graphite.

And it was silent. People talked as they walked along the path nearby, the birds chirped above you in the branches, and music blared from a distance, but it was peaceful. You were too focused to talk, and Jaehyun didn’t want to disturb you or ruin your work.

You wouldn’t have heard him if he talked anyways. You were in euphoria; this might’ve been your best drawing yet. Maybe this is the one drawing that will actually capture him; maybe this’ll be your masterpiece.

Your eyes freely roamed his physique, unhinged with no fear of being caught to hold them back. Your eyes greedily drank his appearance, capturing the god-like qualities the man before you held. This time, you could draw everything. The dimple on the side of a slightly-smirking mouth, the nicely-curved Cupid’s bow placed above his pouty-pink lips, the slant of his jaw and curve of his nose, the slight bags under his eyes due to lack of sleep, the tousled waves atop his head, the delicate dip of his eyelashes, and the glimmer of his gaze trained just to the side of you. You wanted to capture it all; take it for yourself and lock it away in your most precious memories.

You were so transfixed in him and wanting to make the moment last, even when you finished you waiting a few more minutes before uttering a quiet, “done.” You sighed the word, the verbal cue that ended your free reign; that signified that you didn’t have permission to view such an untouchable piece of art. Yet another sign that Jaehyun was out of your league and always would be; the artist and artwork would always walk two separate paths, and they were never meant to cross, no matter how much you tried or wished they would.

Jaehyun had jumped up instantly at your words, his eyes turning into crescent moons as an excited grin crossed his features. Your eyes softened subconsciously at the sight; one you could only behold so little, and so you cherished each second.

You slowly turned the canvas towards him, and held your breath, studying his eyes in a guarded yet almost desperate manner. You were so afraid that he wouldn’t like it, that disgust would take over his features and he’d belittle you before leaving. You were preparing for such a response.

But that never came to pass. Jaehyun simply stared, almost entranced by the art as much as you were by him. His eyes gleamed and his lips parted as he reached a hand up to graze over the drawing of himself. “This is...wow. How are you able to draw so well? You captured me perfectly!”

And your heart swelled. To anyone else, it might have come off as egotistical to love a drawing of themselves so much, but for you, it was praise for your ability to enchant someone in such a way. You shyly met his gaze. “You really think so?”

And he nodded enthusiastically, tearing his gaze away to give you his full attention and to show his sincerity. “Of course! Do you mind if I take it?”

You blinked. The one time you can draw him perfectly, capture him, and he wants to take it; you can’t keep his perfection. You internally sigh wistfully; at least he’d have a piece of you with him, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t be able to look at it without thinking of you.

With that thought in mind, you nod happily and turn it back around to sign your signature at the bottom. You open your mouth to ask him another question, hopefully to keep a conversation—this was your chance to finally break the barrier of artist and muse, right?—but just as you look up, he’s calling out someone’s name.

You jerk your head in the direction he’s suddenly waving, his back to you, to a pretty girl walking to class. You feel yourself freeze as she turns her head, a bright smile crossing her own face as she raises a hand to wave back. You can only watch in growing tribulation as she motioned him over, and Jaehyun, seeming to remember you being there, turned to you.

He quickly began to pack up his bag and shoulder it, sending you a bright smile. “Thank you for the drawing, again! And you were...?”

“(Y/n),” you sent him a tight grin, holding your closed notebook tightly to your chest in your seated position. Of course he wouldn’t remember your name.

“(Y/n),” he repeated to himself, and you hated how it made your heart flutter. He waved the paper in the air as he began to back up, “You’re a great artist; don’t quit!”

Was that his cue that he’d never talk to you again? Was this your missed chance?

You couldn’t even manage to fit in a goodbye before he was gone, headed towards the pretty girl on the sidewalk who laughed oh-so-brightly when he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He still held your picture in his hand and he showed it to her, but he presented it in a way to talk about his own beauty, not your skill. It made your heart constrict until you finally looked back down at your notebook.

You sighed and leaned back against the tree once more. You should’ve known; you were an artist, and artists’ and muses’ paths never cross. You let your eyes wander over the open page before landing on the ripped out seam, causing your brows to furrow. You quickly tried to change to another page, and yet you only came across more sketches of Jaehyun now. It made you sick.

Because now none of them were perfect since you drew him the best you could only moments before and gave away the beautiful finished product. You grew overwhelmed and slammed the journal shut, staring at the front over. You sat there for a moment longer before stuffing the book into your bag and standing up.

It was time for a new notebook.