#i wish i had better visuals for its torso

[pacdevil]

hello new yolk gamers >:3

[dojae-huh]

i saw the ask where anon talked about how woo is taking a lot of potential from a better dojae unit and i couldn't help but agree. its kinda of a hard pill to swallow but there are some reasons that i could think of.

jungwoo is there as doyoung's support systems. its unspoken how doyoung seems to be awkward and uncomfortable acting around jaehyun esp in front of the camera where he needs to restrain himself. maybe he'a avoiding to do anything that could cause a stir amongst shippers (inevitable, we live off crumbs) or from him being self cautious. but with woo, he's more comfortable to act like a close brother and hugs him (will there be a day where we get a proper hug this era), and it seems that doyoung relies on jungwoo alot and vice versa. so maybe that's why jungwoo was chosen to be in the unit.

jungwoo's image. he's refreshing, youthful, boyish and very lovable that i think would be a loss if the company won't profit off such idol. jungwoo has decent singing and better dancing skills. he performs so excellent in perfume and kiss so far, his parts were my favourite. there's something about how his expressions showed his enthusiasm and excitement to be onstage got me. this image was a special add on to dojae. of course we know how well jaehyun and doyoung complement each other but if i were to make an analogy:

jaehyun's the base note that acts like a foundation for the combination. without him, the group will fall. he's the most popular member in nct, and lets agree we all had a crush on him at one point. he's perfect visual, vocals, dance and performance wise.

doyoung's the middle note that brings the group together. with jaehyun they would be enough to become one group. doyoung's smart (jae's words) and he's considered as the group's manager. so i'm guessing doyoung did more than an idol's job for this unit, he was the one working behind the scenes. his vocals, visuals and popularity amongst his loyal fans guarantees success. dance/performance wise he's decent, but damn he did outperformed himself this time - esp in kiss. i might be biased but who can control themselves when doyoung's bare waist and chest was out like that? hehe

lastly jungwoo. the sweet cherry on top. he's the top note. it's like how we can have ice cream on its own (jaedo), but we can make it better with toppings on top - that's jungwoo to me in this unit. as a jaedo shipper myself, i really wanted a jaedo only unit but that's just wishful thinking. sm knows, they all know how jaedo will bring more than profit to the table. its risky, and they're playing the safe card. but hey, i'm happy for both of them. back to jungwoo, he fits in surprisingly with the two and i'm very interested to see more of their performances. i'm rooting for woo all the way.

You described dojaejung. Dojae alone would have a different concept and image, that would work around their strengths as two. It's like TaeMarkYY vs TaeMark.

Doyoung really put effort into practice of the two choreos we saw. He is quick, sharp and even has good hand gestures in places. His stiffness in torso is barely in the way because the choreo is adapted to his kind of motions.

I really hope Jungwoo will stay the way he was during the countdown live. He was charged and enthusiastic, but didn't try to stirr things his way, disrupt Do's set manner of presenting things, didn't attack Jae. Because he worked as support, followed the same vector as the two others, he felt in place, fitting. Vacance type of push and pull although is fun as variety, is also an exhausting way to function as a group as someone has to give in, to sacrifice to keep the peace.

[mi5017tomberry]

Final Animation

SOUND ON

Here's the final animation for the module, there's a lot I'm happy about and a lot which I wish I had time to change. As usual, because I over-complicated the project, everything feels somewhat rushed because I had to squeeze complex movements into a short period of time so there are parts which really feel rushed so the timing is a little off. Despite that, this project pushed me to learn how to animate a lot of complex movements including, running, jumping, swinging, hanging, falling, dodging, climbing and splatting. Attempting all of these movements gives me a much better idea about all of them and because I used the sack rig I had to exaggerate every movement so that you could tell what was going on. I animated it all somewhat chronologically and the first complex motion in the mini montage was running from the dodgeballs and as it was the first one I attempted, it was understandably the worst. I was really trying to exaggerate the leaping and bounding motion but because it is only on screen for just over a second it is way too quick to properly understand what is happening and I didn't properly sell the impact of the dodgeball. With every impact whether it was a faceplant or falling into a hole, I wanted to give each motion enough weight to make it look real, but I also wanted a cartoony feel to each motion including some over-the-top squash and stretch to make things more visually interesting (e.g: the upper torso hangs in the air briefly before slamming into the platform after he jumps from pole to pole, his limbs are stretched way beyond the default after launching out of the cannon, the upper body and arms hang in the air slightly longer after falling from the monkey bars, the bunched up squishing of the body before jumping from the sucker punch wall) I am still getting a feel for the right timing whilst animating and because I attempted a range of different actions all of which I haven't tried before there was a lot of mistakes along the way. I am happy with the sequence from the monkey bars to the swinging of the body before landing on the trampoline because that was the last bit of animation I did so its a lot better in my opinion.

For the next semester, I am going to keep things simple so that I can focus on subtle detail rather than trying 100 things at once. This semester has been exhausting because I really bit off more than I could chew but it has taught me a lot about animation and how to approach my projects in future. This project does meet the brief however it isn't as clear as it could be because I tried to fit too much into too short of a time window. I was aiming to show an increasing level of competency throughout the obstacle course starting with a faceplant and ending with a confident landing and a triumphant celebration. If you watch it with that in mind it shows an improvement of a skill but if I had made things simpler this would be much clearer. My animation skills have improved a lot thanks to this module because it gave me the chance to try out a lot and then some, before this module I had only ever animated a camera moving through a landscape and after, I have animated a character attempting an assault course. I've learnt a lot and I will take what I've learnt into the next semester confidently.

Also, if I had more time I would render it at a higher quality but my computer wouldn't be able to render everything at 1080p so I've rendered it all at 720p to save some time instead.

[mywritingonlyfans]

i like the idea of thomas for the dad/christmas fic 🥺

heeey!!! thanks for comment on it again!!! once again, i'm sorry for not writing that one with the person 'we' mentioned first😅 hope u like it!

-> dad!thomas raggi x reader

prompt: in which, dad!thomas is bit late for xmas to see his little girl! bonus. he teaching his little girl how to play the guitar!

warnings: none, just the good stuff today!! oh, we actually talk more about the 'finals' holiday than xmas itself on here so i hope it doesnt be too awkward for people who don't celebrate it.

-------------------++++----------------

You closed the fairytale book, putting it in its place on the shelf, and then tidied the blanket to cover Alice better. One of her arms was on her new guitar, which Santa Claus had left for her at Thomas's mother’s house; and by Santa you meant Thomas. She was so happy at the moment that you couldn't wait to show him the video. 

 Despise this, the smile on her face hadn't lasted long, you didn't know if everyone could see that she looked sad or if it was something maternal that warned you about it. She was asleep, and even though you could tell she was heartbroken, her long eyelashes rested under the freckles of her chubby face; appearing to be all agitated - she had not cried, but you knew she had held back her tears while you put her to sleep. You didn't blame her, you missed him, too. 

 You hugged your torso, wanting to stay there with her, you didn't feel like going to sleep knowing that he wasn’t home for Christmas. When you looked at her again, with her sad little face, you suddenly felt bad for not thinking about letting her sleep with you; since she liked it when you let her stay in Thomas’s side of the bed when he wasn’t around.

“I love you, angel,” you whispered, brushing her hair away from her face and placing a kiss on the prominent freckles on her nose. She mumbled something you couldn't understand, and smiling silly at your girl, you took her purrs as your cue to make your way to the kicthen.

You hummed one of Thomas’s band songs to yourself after you checked that there was no messages or new call on it. He promised he would at least contact you, and as long as you are together he never was one to broke his promises; so what you could do was wait. 

 It was the first Christmas after you had Alice that he hadn't been able to come back home on time. And as much as you told him that you understood and that everything would be fine, which was true, you couldn't deny how much you missed him.

You kept the leftovers Alice had begged her grandmother to give her on the frigde, remembering how she had planned on eating it with Thomas when he got home. Glad pleased, you could imagine how happy he’d be that she thought about doing it for him. Just when your mind was ready to get lost in a scenario where Thomas would be home for the Holidays, the vibrations of your phone interrupted you.

“Hey, babe. Merry Christmas!” You said excitedly. It was him, he wouln’t forget of you. It was late at night and you had no idea what time it was for him, but still he called. 

“Merry Christmas, babe,” He said in a slurred, almost inaudible voice. He looked a bit sapped and busy.

“It's not a good time, right? I can call you later if you can’t speak right now or are feeling too tired,”

“Nah, it’s fine,” He assured, a bit breathless, getting clearer over the phone. “How was your day? How’s Alice? God, I missed you,”

“It was good,” you sighed, thinking about being cheeky and adding that it would have been better with him, yet you were afraid that it might make him feel worse. “Alice is fine too. She loved the guitar, you will love to see it. I filmed everything, she didn’t stop jumping with it in her arms, telling your parents how it was just like the one his dad have. She misses you so much, Thommy, and I think she’s learning how to deal with it.”

“She’s learning...” he repeated. “I wish she didn't need to learn to deal with me being away from her,”

“Don’t say that, I made a bad choice of words, you know she loves you and she loves even more the way you love her extra when you’re back. She understands, Thomas,”

“She’s 5 years old, Y/N,”

You let the silence fill the chasm between you. You felt how sad he was, he had been away for a long time because of the turns before, still he always managed to return for the special dates - just as he had promised when Alice was born - but this time, well, this time it wasn’t possible.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured and you visualized in your head his eyebrows furrowing as his hand ran agonizingly through his hair, just as he always do when he‘s feeling in low spirits. “You’re right. I should be focusing on the good things, soon I’ll be home, I’m gonna teach her to play the guitar, show her all my love and be the best dad in the world,”

You laughed at his abrupt change in mood mixed with a hint of himself. “I know you will, babe,”

“I’m gonna be the best boyfriend too,” he would give continuity to his words when a loud noise of something falling stopped him abruptly.

“What was it?” You asked. You made it clear that you were suspicious, and by his nervous laugh he knew that. After all, what would he say about the noise that seemed to have come from the room next to where you were? “Oh my god, Thomas, that can’t be you.”

He didn't even need to answer, the sound of your steps going on his way was enough for him to know that you knew he was there, making him curse himself for being so clumsy. And just like in a flash, you were in his arms. He dropped his bag on the floor, giving you al of his attention as he squeezed your shape to his body.

“You’re here,” you bured your face on his chest, letting the feeling of comfort fill your nostrils, and then soul. “You’re really here.” You added in a breathless sigh.

Relief taking over his body as you snuggled into his frame, he grinned, “I promised that I would try my best to be with you all the special dates, didn't I?” He asked, holding your face so he could look at you properly. “Are you crying?”

You nodded at his soft voice. “I’m sorry,”

He laughed, a nasal sound that you missed so much. “It’s ok, 5 months is a long time,” He said, tracing kisses across your face. “I promise I’m gonna love you extra now.”

——————-

It was already possible to see the sun rissing outside, yet you refused to close your eyes and lose any moment with Thomas.

You rested your head on the pillow, waiting for him and thinking of how lucky you were that he managed to catch a last minute flight to spend the New Year at home. He was scheduled to return only after the first day of the year, somehow things would have worked out better than expected and he managed to get back sooner.

“She looks like an angel sleeping so calmly.” He spoke, lying beside you under the covers.

“I thought you were going to wake her up, she'll go crazy when she sees you.”

“I know,” He smiled, proud of himself. He knew she was the definition of daddy’s little girl. “I will wait until she wakes up. I'm dying to fill her with kisses and hugs.”

Still with his charming teeth and cute dimples on display, he pulled you to his chest, trying to wrap you in the blanket next to him. “She loves you. She doesn't care about the time you spend away, as long as you come back to her.” You nuzzled into his neck, squeezing him tighter as you said that. It was likely that this would happen more often, letting Thomas blame himself for that wouldn’t do him any good.

He bobbed, kissing your forehead, enlacing you with the same intensity. “I know, babe,”

“How was turn?” You asked, looking at him, making sure that he was fine. He was thoughtful, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

He told you about his gigs around the globe and you were happy feeling his body soften on your arms. His voice almost lulled you to sleep, but you were sure you would never tire of hearing him talk about what he loves. You showed him the video of Alice receiving the guitar, seeing his eyes fill with water after she said that she‘d be just like her father made your chest almost explode with love. In the best possible way, of course.

“You can sleep if you want, babe.”

“No, I want to spend more time with you.”

“I’m here, I am not intending to go anywhere.” He patted your hair, rubbing his nose through your hairline, and the last thing you remembered was feeling his lips on your temple.

When you opened your eyes again, he was no longer there. You rubbed your eyes tight, trying to adjust to the light, wondering if there was any possibility that it might have been a dream, but then a sweet chuckle brought you back to reality.

Alice was standing in front of you, with the guitar resting awkwardly on her shoulders. Her eyes went from you to Thomas, as if asking him if everything was all right. You smirked lightly at her features that looked the same as Thomas's.

She started playing something, which looked incredibly bad, Thomas wrinkled his nose in an attempt not to laugh so as not to discourage her. He should have spent a lot of time helping her, and she looked like she was trying. Her lips was between her teeth as she concentrated to play her less than a minute of song was so cute that as much as you didn't understand a thing, you couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

“It’s Vent'anni,” Thomas mouthed, waving his hand in a way that would get your attention but not hers. “It’s Vent'anni.”

“Oh my god!” You opened your arms for her as she finished playing, watching you with her excited eyes. “It’s Vent'anni.”

She grinned from ear to ear, handing Thomas the guitar, and then jumping into your arms.

“Did you like this?” She asked happily, making ‘this’ sound like ‘dis’. “It’s not perfect but I’ll get better, right dad?”

“Yes, better than Damiano trying to play It!" Thomas confirmed, stroking her back as he approached you. “Good mornin’, love.” he kissed the top of your head.

“I love you,” you kissed his cheek, wishing he could feel how much you love him. “And I love you too, little one,” you mumbled, pinching Alice’s nose, which eyes was stuck on the two of you.

She laughed, her gaze still on you and Thomas. She looked like a completely different person from the night before.

“Dad said you look cute when you're tired.”

You knew that you looked tired, the day before wasn’t the best and you had barely slept. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at Thomas who had a silly smile playing on his lips and felt your cheeks get hotter. The reason you still felt that way when he complimented you was a mystery, you liked it anyway.

“You are a gossip little thing,” Thomas joked, poking at her sides.

“No, I’m not.” She laughed, trying to run away from him flawlessly, letting him hug her as she recovered her breath.

“I love you too, both of you,” she pointed a finger at both of you. Thomas's smile was priceless, you could live in there forever. “but can we play more guitar now, please?”

You agreed and Thomas got up to sit upright, putting her between his legs. He looked at you, his face still radiant, you could easily imagine him talking about you with Alice - just like you did talk about him with her as well. He positioned her tiny hands on the guitar, guiding then with his own fingers. His gentle, patient voice teaching her things that both knew she would soon forget and he would have to repeat it all over again - and you knew Thomas would do it without a problem - was lovely to watch. Her head was resting on his chest and whenever she hit a note and heard Thomas praising her, she would turn to you and say "see mom, I did it.” And you swear that you couldn't be happier to have found the meaning of the word home in two of your favorite people in the world.

[shizukateal]

What are your thoughts/opinions on the LoliRock outfits?

I was working on the posts about the BRS and Doki Doki Precure girls, but since these girls have the same baseline they are quicker to review, so let's go with them.

General Thoughts

Obvious things first, none of them should be wearing the tails. They are completely incongruous with the structure of the outfits. Yes, I get that they are pop idols, but that is no excuse for putting so much pointless sheer fabric underneath outfits that seem so specifically tailored to allow free range of movement. The base itself is pretty good and I applaud how each of the girls' variations subtly changes it's "theme" so to say -for example Aurania looks more like an amazon in contrast with Talia's more "scholarly" prim and proper look while Iris does look like a more typical romantic popstar. That being said, the way the top segments into leaves can have the effect of elongating their torsos too much depending on how they're drawn in the moment, and the way and length at which they're cut can also make the visual transition to the skirt kinda awkward at times because the hard edges don't match the bulk of the skirts. The cuts of their specific symbols in the middle also feel kinda forced in a cheesy way although that's a pretty hypocritical thing for me to say, tbh- wait, the ends of the tails do the same thing ok that's a bit too far- but in any case they work well as a break. All in all the base is fine, but it could use some adjustments.

Iris

Ok, let's get the elephant out of the room first: what the fuck is up with that ribbon? This has to be the winner for the worst placement of that accessory I have ever seen. It looks out of place, difficult to draw, and uncomfortable. If they really wanted one that much, they should've just stuck it on the back. That and the tail aside we have the ugly two-layered skirt that only serves to briefly confuse the viewer about the proportions of this girl. The gold hemlines compete with each other, and they exacerbate the problem I said before about how the hem of the top can feel awkward when it doesn't follow the silhouette with the skirt. Instead of making her look more femenine or whatever it makes this weird square shape around her hips. I will congratulate her on the boots though, they are kinda country style, but in a pop-star way, very Hannah Montana. I'm also all about heart pendants and sweetheart necklines, especially on pink characters -hence why I'm a hypocrite for judging cheesiness. Her gloves are also very well chosen and the crown is nice.

Talia

Not much to say about this girl, her variation is pretty solid. I see she has a bracelet that kinda breaks with the symmetry of her gloves, but it doesn't seem too disruptive, so I'll let it slide. Not too thrilled about the double bubble ends of her staff, but meh, so be it, she earns some leeway.

Auriana

Ok, orange slice here has a good idea with her slightly more amazonian variations, even if I'm not quite sold on the sheer fabric underneath the strands. The mismatched gloves are kinda weird though.

Carissa

My only real problem with her, tail aside, is that I just don't like the front of her hairstyle. The hairpins and the loose strands just really highlight the amount of forehead and the very thin eyebrows.

Lyna

Sea-foam green, interesting. Her top is so cool that I kinda wish it was its own thing instead of having to be a part of this uniform, but all things considered she looks good. I think she would look better if the tops of her boots were different, though, or perhaps if she had some thigh-high socks.

[saphirered]

Hello! What do you think it would be like if Essek had a fire genasi S/o, like they're normal really calm and collected unlike most fire genasi but the times they do get really general angry it's like watching a volcano erupt! (Maybe they got angry cause Essek got hurt by someone?) Thank you!

Essek is so caught up in his work he doesn’t even hear you enter his laboratory. Papers are strewn about, books opened, some flat, some propped agains anything and everything for better readability. The sound of the metal nib of a fine pen moving across paper, the only constant in the room besides the occasional mutter to himself.

You knock on the door. No response. You call out his name. Nothing. You think whatever Essek’s working on must be very important to have him be so unaware of his surroundings. You notice Essek’s in his robe, shoes and a shirt given the mostly exposed lower arms. Did he not get dressed in the morning? Or did he simply never go to sleep? You’re not sure. Could be both. Could be either.

Since he’s not responding you simply approach. You place a hand on his shoulder, slide it down over his chest as you kiss his temple. You look over the pages out in front of him as he slowly becomes aware of your presence, leaning into your kiss.

“What are you up to?” You ask softly recognising some of the spells as the schematics of healing magic and to a lesser extend regeneration. Essek must have noticed your confusion as he quickly pulls from your grasp, begins to gather the papers and pile them together, closing the books as he goes.

“Nothing of importance. I did not hear you enter.” Essek gets up leaning against the desk and faces you with a smile reaching for you and pulling you closer to the point you no longer have visual on any of the papers and books. He’s definitely hiding something.

“I knocked, and called your name. You seemed to be pretty caught up in whatever you were working on.” You try to look past him but the moment you do his hand finds its way to your cheek brushing his thumb over it lovingly.

“My apologies. Shall we go somewhere else? I think I’ve been crammed up in this study long enough for today. Perhaps some fresh air will suit us both?” Essek suggest with a somewhat nervous laugh. You smile back at him and give him a kiss. If he’s not going to talk, you’ll find out yourself and you’re prepared to use whatever you can to get to the bottom of this.

Reaching for the stack of papers behind him once they are securely in your grasp you break the kiss taking several steps back and leaf through the notes before he can get to you. So not just healing magic… herbology, physiology and anatomy, manual healing, treating injuries, medicine, recipes for concoctions, ointments and potions to cure anything from bruises to broken bones, wounds and burns.

“Why the sudden interest in the art of healing?” You frown as the pages are snatched from your grasp and the drow holds them behind his back with an unreadable expression, head held high; the same one he uses whenever he’s dealing with any kind of official and none casual business.

“A sudden interest. I found myself with time to spare and decided to spend it learning until your return. And since you’re here, there’s no need to continue.” You notice the nervous smile break through again leaving you more leery of Essek. If he’s gonna play this game you’ll play along but last you remembered chess is a two player game and you’re not about to be tricked into making a certain move by the wizard.

“You misunderstand. I’m not judging your ‘sudden interest’ nor questioning your reasonings for wishing to study healing. However, last I remember you were the one to tell me healing magic is not exactly within your capabilities. I’m just curious.” You take a step closer to Essek and he steps back. You take another and close enough to the desk he puts the stack of paper back where it was before he steps back in towards you.

“There are some very capable healers among my friends and you are an exceptional one. I simply wish to learn the deeper meanings to the abilities they have at their fingertips and gain a better understanding of it.” You smile at him innocently. Such a liar. Such. A. Liar. Half truth if we’re being technical but deception nonetheless.

“Well then, I would leave you to your studies but I have missed you, Essek.” You kiss his cheek snaking one arm around his waist. You can see the panic in his eyes. Normally he’d happily indulge, return your affections without even a second of doubt. He pulls the robe around his torso a little closer as your free hand dances up his chest and over his shoulder.

The moment you reach his shoulder he grits his teeth, jaw tightening holding back a a whimper or a gasp as his entire posture freezes up. You quickly remove your hand and look at him worried. Essek gives you a look of defeat as you put a bit more space between the two of you, allowing you to move freely.

“Essek…” You all but threaten as you reach for the neckline of the robe. He has half the mind to stop you but refrains from doing so with a sigh as you push the fabric aside.

His shoulder and upper arm seem very much bruised, the bone slightly out of place. Seeing it continues over the top of his shoulder you turn him around inspecting his back too. Two deep cuts, luckily no longer bleeding mare the back of his shoulder. The injuries agitated, left untreated. Essek sighs deeply as you gasp at the sight.

“What happened?” You go over the outline of the open wounds, careful not to touch.

“Let’s just say the Martinet Daleth did not appreciate my comments on his personal relations very much.” Essek grits his teeth as you accidentally brush over a particularly painful area. You bite your lower lip keeping yourself from making a snarky remark but can’t prevent yourself from feeling the threads of control slip. How could he have done something so stupid? He’s aware how powerful those people are, not only that, in the position he is in, being less than friendly will not do him well in any circumstance when he doesn’t have any leverage anymore.

“Have you gone mad?!” That may have come out a little less… calm than you had hoped it would. Deciding to focus on the now and not all the things you may want to say, shout or scream, or actions you may want to take, you instead focus on healing the worst. You make sure the wounds are clean before they close up, reset the bone in the right position and allow the bruises to fade.

As your magic sets in and begins to work its wonders Essek lets out a breath of relief, rubbing at his priorly injured shoulder testing its movability. Nothing remains of the injuries and you’re able to contain the fire feel burning within your chest and throat. You take a few deep breaths as Essek thanks you.

Brushing Essek off, knowing the way well enough, you head for the component pantry. Essek follows behind you calling after you but out of fear of blowing up in his face you keep going and ignore him. You go over the shelves grabbing jars and vials as you go. You had to channel your anger somewhere so if this was going to be it, then so it be.

You had worked very hard to keep your own fury contained when it arose. You’re usually calm and collected even in the most dire of situations, but when someone comes for your friends, let alone lover, you will put the burning fires of the Nine Hells to shame, living up to the ‘hell hath no fury’ expression. It’s also a side you prefer to keep away from your loved ones if it can be avoided.

Normally a few deep breaths, counting to ten and another few deep breaths would do. In the rare cases that didn’t work you’d try occupying yourself with something else entirely. But now… you’re slipping. You can feel the rage burning within, so to the components you turn.

You pick up another vial inspecting it and Essek interrupts placing himself between you and your already gathered components.

“I don’t know what you’re planning but please, don’t do anything you’ll come to regret.” Essek practically begs. He takes the vial from your hand but drops it immediately, hissing in pain. The vial shatters as he waves his hand as if to cool it down. You push past him, gather the components and throw them into a sack as you leave the pantry. Essek quickly follows behind still clutching his hand to cool it down.

“Where are you going?” You stop, put on the most composed look you can and turn around to face him.

“I’m going to murder the leader of an infamous order of magic users. Now if you will excuse me, enjoy the rest of your day.” Words like poison. No more anger, just pure unrestrained hatred. You turn back around and continue your way towards the front door. You clench your fists feeling the burning heat gather within your palms.

“Don’t do anything stupid! You’ll get yourself killed!” Essek shouts after you but you keep walking. He calls your name. “Do not do anything stupid!” He repeats. You stop in your tracks feeling as if something inside of you just snaps. The last thread of your composure perhaps.

“Don’t do anything stupid? Anything stupid he says!” You throw your hands in the air.

“Like how you didn’t do anything completely and utterly stupid when you did what you did? How you lied to so many people, were the one responsible for so many terrible things. Or how you made choices ignoring the consequences of your actions?” You shout back, the ground beneath your feet’s temperature starts rising to the point where you are scorching the fine carpet beneath. Admittedly, your words are a low blow.

“You know what I meant!” Essek retorts getting closer to you, his frustrations also clear.

“Oh, I know what you meant but let’s no longer pretend you’re the only one you care about suffering from the consequences of your actions. Can you for just a moment just open your eyes and realise you have so many people around you who love you and would go to the ends of the earth for you. Can you just understand that when someone hurts you and threatens your livelihood, your life, that maybe that doesn’t sit well with me?” Unclenching your fists embers drift to the floor leaving more holes in the carpet.

“Why do you have to be so stupid!” Scorching heat radiates in the hallway as a brief rush of flame passes through the space like burning oil. Essek is quick enough to float and avoid the fire, but you watch it spread.

Essek’s face softens as he quickly puts the fire out. He goes to place his hand on your arm but feeling the heat of your skin before even making contact, he’s forced to refrain and his hand falls back to the side. He’s never seen you quite so driven by hatred and anger. It scares him in a way. He’s not afraid of you. He trusts you. But he is afraid that letting you go off on your own so driven by those negative emotions, allowing them to fester and grow, will not do anyone good, least of all you. He worries for your wellbeing, just like you have for his plenty of times before.

“I know I may have a hard time coming to terms with others’ affections towards me and may have made some stupid decisions but I beg of you, please, do not walk into a lions’ den unprepared carrying bait around your neck.” While the fury still burns in your eyes and your skin is still much hotter to the touch than it should be Essek is able to grasp your hand without burning himself.

“I must ask you to refrain from brutally murdering the Martinet… for now. His time will come, just as those who are loyal to him. Just not yet.” Essek strokes your cheek as your eyes soften, expression saddening.

“They hurt you still.” The words come out almost like a cry of frustration and sadness. Whether that be because of what had happened to Essek or from losing control like that you’re not one hundred percent sure but you guess the latter.

“They did, and I assume they will be a thorn in my side just a bit longer but, if that means I’ll have you at my side to eventually deal with them, I feel more comfortable for it, no matter how much I would love to see you set their pretentious ship ablaze, in retaliation, you yourself said, calculated moves are a necessity, especially now.” Essek had already made his peace with this, he only hopes you would see the same. Wrapping your arms around him hiding your face in his chest you compose yourself in a silent thank you as he returns your embrace, holding you until you pull back enough to see his face.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper looking at the scorch marks all over. “I didn’t mean to… I never-”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Everyone breaks at some point. You’ve been there for me plenty of times. I’m glad I get to return the favour, regardless of the circumstances.” Essek looks around already mentally making a list of what to get replaced and what to get repaired.

“You can be quite intimidating in your fury.” He smiles at you and you raise an eyebrow.

“I guess…” You feel regretful for the damages done.

“I might have use for that in the future if you’d be willing.” You give Essek a look of disapproval.

“What? I would love to see you do this, in some other places with less than friendly people, who you’ve already deemed deserving of your wrath.” Essek laughs.

“So I can repay you for this? I can do that. But only in the most dire situations.” You poke an accusing finger at his chest laughing with him. You give him quick kiss.

“At least it was not my library, or the study.” Essek sighs as you gawk and swat his arm jokingly.

“Rude! But yes. Because I can see you being the one in a fiery rage should anyone ever damage your precious books.”

[writinglionqueen]

An Impatient Man

Photo credit to @thewrestlingobsessor​​

At first the cheers of the village grabbed at your curiosity. How loud they were....and for what? But then you heard it, on the lips of your servants as they rushed to-an-froe in the grand hall while you sat upon Drew’s grand chair.

“The King is back!” They shouted, scurrying to ensure their duties done. “He’s back! They won!”

Your king...he was back? He had won the war?

You stood to your feet just in time to see the doors to the grand hall swing open. A spew of soldiers came in, but leading the frock was none other than your pig-headed king.

The sight of him made your heart quicken. The way he was dressed only in his boots and his kilt, colored to represent his family name, a brilliant blue and black...him having forgone a shirt for the trek back to the keep made your body thrum with new life. Even with all the small cuts that littered his naked torso. His own blood crusted on those wounds though, keeping them from spilling anymore blood down his built body. Your king was not too mangled or hurt that you rushing towards him didn’t make him flinch. For his arms were held open as you ran to him, finding your solace within them as he held you close to his heart.

“My queen,” Drew murmured to you, “we won. We beat every one of those bastards from the South.” You looked up at his face, seeing his proud smile and bright blue eyes you loved so much.

You could care less if he won a war. God, you couldn’t give a damn what battle he won. He was home now and within your grasp. You could finally touch him again. 

Without prompt or warning, you reached for his head, quickly bringing him down low enough for your lips to reach his. And Drew....Drew was happy to oblige in kissing his queen. He made a deep happy noise of pleasure as he kissed you just as deep and passionate as you gave him.

The two of you could care less about the hoots and jeers from the men. Most of them didn’t know what you and Drew were feeling. This was more than they could understand. To them, all they probably could infer was their king about to bed a woman, and not bed a wife. To some, they’d only bed the women in the inns, not caring for who that woman could be. They were only boys thinking that winning a war made them a man. They wouldn’t know what made them a man, until they were missing a woman that sported their rings on their fingers with pride. 

You pulled away from Drew’s lips, taking on air as your eyes met his. Your king’s lips turned up into a small smirk, one that meant enticing fun. You looked away, your fingers coming up to run across the plans of your husband’s torso, feeling the muscle and hair beneath your light touches. 

“Men!” Drew declared throughout the hall, looking up at his men who all had found a table to sit in. “Eat and be merry till your heart’s content!” That notion made the men cheer as servants were quick to bring hot meals and ale to every single man who was sitting. The room filled with the noise of tales and laughter as the men but, it didn’t stop your king from being the man you knew him to be, for he leaned down, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear and in a growl so deep, it had you shivering in upmost delight, he quietly said, “I’m gonna go bed my wife.” 

You let out a shaky breath before your king scooped you up in his arms and lead you off to your shared chambers. He was quick to deposit you onto the grand bed after locking the door behind the two of you. It only took seconds for his lips to be upon yours once your back was on the bed and he was looming over you. As an impatient man, he didn’t even bother to take you out of your dress or even remove his kilt. He just hiked up your skirts, moved his plaid out of the way before making your legs wrap around his waist. 

You could already feel your wetness coat your sex within the first few minutes you and Drew has kissed in the grand hall. You had been aching for your king since the first day he was gone. And now that you could touch him and he could touch you, it didn’t take much for your excitement to get the better of you. And Drew...well...he could get hard at a moment’s notice. He probably had been aching for you just the same. 

So without much work, your king pushed himself into your wet heat, making you throw you head back to gasp. Your king growled, his teeth nipping at the column of your throat as he bottomed out, fully sheathed in you. 

“My Queen,” Drew growled. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks.” You could say nothing but gasp as he set on a quick pace, one that told of his urgency and passion for you. All you could do was hold onto your king, one hand resting on the back of his neck while the other one was planted on his naked back. His thrusts made your toes and fingers curl deliciously, It made your nails dig into the meat of Drew’s back, making them rake down. Drew gave a groan at that, his hips never faltering.

Drew moved so his face was inches from yours, watching you come apart beneath his form. Your eyes fluttering in the absolute pleasure of your king nailing the spot inside you that made your blood roar in your ears. It felt too good. 

“God, I love this sight,” he growled in appreciation. You tried to look at him, focus on those brilliant blue eyes of his, but even that was hard as he was giving you such pleasure. He lowered himself once more, his forearms caged your head. His hips shifted, creating a new angle that allowed Drew’s cock to nudge that sweet spot inside you while rubbing your clit with every thrust he offered you. And you took it. You took it all. You took everything he was giving you with little whimpers and moans and cries of your king’s name. The feeling had your back arching, a deep cry leaving your lips and Drew moaned to watch you like that. 

But then your hand tightened in his dark hair, using it as leverage to bring him down once more to kiss you. And he did. He swallowed your moans and cries, his tongue tasting each one as it licked into your mouth. 

Your climax was upon you. You could feel it in the way your tummy started to flutter, feel that feeling deep within yourself, feel your core flutter around your king. Your own cries louder in your throat. And all was met with your king’s growl. He pulled away, his lips red and shiny with spit as he watched you in awe. 

“Come on, my queen, give it to me,” he said to you. “Let me feel you.” A whimper passed your lips, a whine for your king, at his words. 

“Drew,” you cried. Your legs tightened around his waist. “God, Drew.”

“Yes,” your king growled. “Yes.” 

“Drew!” you cried one last time as your climax surged through your body. Your core holding your king like a vice and your tummy tightening just the same. You couldn’t help but clenched your eyes closed, getting lost in the euphoric feeling as your king cradled your head, holding you as his orgasm followed yours. His hot seed flooding your core had you shivering in delight. Drew thrusted into you a couple more times before his hips finally came to a halt. 

The two of you were panting, coming down from the ecstatic you two shared. Your king was still cradling your head when your eyes fluttered open to peer up at him. His own blue eyes fluttered open to take in your face, flushed with pleasure. Even with the sweat dotting along his brow and his cheeks red from exertion, your king was still a gift from heaven. And you let him know as much as you pulled his head down to give him a lingering kiss. He kissed back sweetly, sighing into your mouth. 

When he pulled away this time, he pressed his forehead against yours. He gave a happy sigh. 

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured. 

“I’ve missed you as well,” you murmured back. Drew chuckled. 

“Aye, I know, my queen,” he said before pecking your lips, “I’ve missed this as well.” Drew went on to your cheek and then nipped along your neck, making you hum as your hands lifted to card your fingers through his hair. 

“I kinda wished you would’ve taken me out of this dress,” you sighed to Drew. It was a tease that had your king chuckling along your skin. His beard tickled and made the skin of your collarbone tingle in its wake. He peered into your eyes and you looked down at him, smiling.

“Well, you know that I’m an impatient man,” he said lowly, scooting up again to be face to face with you. The low tone of his voice sent a thrill through your body. 

His hand moved down your shoulder at his words, sliding all the way to your belly before proceeding to smooth up your torso and to the ties of the dress. 

“But for the next round, I guess the dress can come off,” he murmured. A gasp left you at the feeling of his member twitching inside you. Your hands scrambled to find purchase somewhere. Drew languidly rolled his hips against yours with a chuckle, not having bothered to pull himself out of you. The action had your head spinning, and his words that came next had your mind reeling for your king was always good on his word.  

“I won’t be as impatient, my queen.”

Drew won so we all won last night. I mean....with an entrance like what he gave us....god there had to be no other choice than Drew winning and I was living for every moment of it. Like....it gave me such a visual of what King Drew looked like. I’m happy. I can die happy. Also I love to take a second to appreciate the fact I now have 1200 followers....and...I’ve only been in this fandom for 2 years. That’s fucking crazy. I love you all though. Thanks for loving my fics, loving Drew with me, and just being awesome. Stay awesome coz we’re thriving out here in Claymore Country!!! ~The Queen of Claymore Country (self proclaimed) 💛🖤👑

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[d-nghy-ck]

Silk

Pairing: Haechan/Lee Donghyuck x Reader

Genre: smut, praising, swearing, wet humping, unprotected sex, aggressively desperate grunty Hyuck, physically Dom!Haechan but mentally Switch!Hyuck

Summary: Tight jeans and silk adorn a masterpiece; on-stage a collected performer, off-stage a responsive and eager lover. As soon as the stage lights dim, he's desperate for your affirmations. 

Word Count: 2k

The front door slams shut and clothes are fisted as Haechan has you backed against the wall in your dim apartment, the sight of his dance performance at tonight's show blazed into your eyelids and your ears ringing with the last echoes of the venue. The stroll home through the streets illuminated in city lights proved to be more than frustrating, the heels of his shoes clicking across pavement in time with your rapid heartbeat as you watched his determined profile, wishing more than anything that his hand firmly clasping yours ran elsewhere along your body. 

Frantically toying with the buttons on his black silk shirt in the dark, light switch forgotten, your lips are stolen as he pulls your jaw upward. Fingers pressing into the nape of your neck, he leads you into a deep kiss, wet with tongue and firm with urgency. Finally, you release the last button and your hands roam the expanse of damp skin along his front, from his plush chest down to his fuzzy warm tummy. He breaks his lips away from yours to pull down your tight skirt until you shimmy it off, his warm mouth sucking at your inner thigh, his tongue drawing designs across your skin as he fumbles with your boots. You grab him by the collar of his shirt in order to urge him upwards again, only to be met with a devilish little grin from below before he kisses the tiny bow on your lingerie and moves his way upward. Frantically fingering the waistline of his tight black jeans, your hands are tantalizingly close to the hardness beneath the fabric straining at the seams. 

"You looked so, so good on stage tonight." Roaming hands, rough shoves, and hot skin leave sensations in the darkness. "Couldn't take my eyes off you." 

"You think I looked good? Really?" He's breathless, his hands at your waist running up your body to find solace in the roots of your hair, twisting and tangling. "Me?"

A passing car shines headlights through the window of your apartment, briefly revealing the glimmer of his hooded eyes gazing down on you. Your hand at his tummy rubs in circles, his happy trail and smooth skin creating textures beneath your knuckles as other restless fingertips dip into the valleys of his collarbones. When you palm his hardness through the rough fabric, his lips slide off yours, uncentered, dragging saliva across your cheek, a groan rumbling within his bare chest beneath your hand. The tranquility of the still, quiet late night hours allow his gasps and bitten whines to permeate the silence. He's a masterpiece, on-stage a collected performer, off-stage a responsive and eager lover. 

You speak in rushed gasps as his grip on your waist threatens suffocation. "All I've been thinking about all night is wanting you all over me." 

Thoughts of you craving him sends a fog over his vision and a rush in his blood. The percussive tap of your nail against the teeth of his zipper sends electric shocks coursing through him, jolting him into action to unzip himself and peel back his jeans and boxers just enough to release his cock from its confines. He strokes himself, his eyes swimming, distributing precum along his length before sinking his fingertips into your sides and lifting you up the wall, your shocked yelp cut short by his lips on yours. His hand slides along your thigh as your legs wrap around his waist, his hips pressing firmly into yours to pin you to the wall. You gasp aloud around his mouth as he adjusts you higher, angling so that his hardness presses right against the wetness of your lingerie, the friction setting your nerves alight. 

As he ruts roughly against you, he fills the space between you with heated grunts. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you grip him for stability, fighting against gravity. Your arms slip on the silk of his shirt, grasping the fabric, and he heaves you up the wall again. His forehead presses to yours, his voice hesitant. "Do you... do you want me?" He gulps and thrusts. "Tell me you want me."

"Yes, yes, I want you, only you." In response his hips falter and his cock twitches against the lace of your lingerie. Again you slip against his silk shirt and hurriedly slide your fingers beneath his collar to run your hands down his back, seeking better traction, the sensation of his damp muscles compounding on the brush of silk across your arms. Between the elusive texture of the fabric around you and his sweat-slicked, tense muscles, you can barely keep a hold of this man who is fluidity personified. The clutching of your fingertips and digging of your nails into the broadness of his shoulders urges him to heave you upward again until finally you are perched atop his hips against the wall, stable and safe, welcoming his warm embrace. 

The improved angle allows for him to reach his hand around your thigh to move your lingerie to the side, sliding his length along your folds, the glide coursing waves of bliss through both of you. The head of his cock repeatedly presses into your clit at an even, steady pace that has you floating and whining. "Hyuck, please, more." He removes himself from the crook of your neck to look you straight in the eyes, sincerity and devotion adorning his features as another car passes, shrouding his glistening features and patchy stage makeup in dim dancing shadows. The intent of his gaze is an inquiry, verifying that you are truly his and that the sight before his eyes of your flushed cheeks, cascading hair, and begging mouth is truly real. 

"Hyuck," at the needy tone of your voice, his cock grinds against your folds again, "Hyuck, I want you," and again, "Please, I've been waiting so long," and again, "Hyu-" and your plea turns into a choked whimper as he pushes his head into your heat, agonizingly slowly. His breathing is labored, his arms flexed, his eyes fierce with determination. Your warmth and wetness surrounding him has him tense and quivering before he relinquishes his own self-control and begins to pump into you with strong, sure strokes. For every movement, he shoves you up and down the wall, your hair mussing and clumping against the surface.

Only he can fuck you this way, the ability of a dancer to hold you steady and upright with his broad shoulders, but also snap his hips into you with isolated precision, his fluid torso flexing rhythmically with unmatched stamina. For every thrust, every slight movement, the silky fabric of his shirt slides down his shoulders in languid fragments, slowly revealing his lean back muscles into which you dig your fingertips. The silky fabric collects at his elbows and around your feet hooked behind his back, swaying through the air with the rhythm he sets. 

Tossing his head back, he lets out a high-pitched whine, his hair bouncing with movement, and you're inspired to grasp the strands of his bangs and pull them back. With furrowed eyebrows and spit-stained lips, he soundlessly mouths out, "Feels so good," and opens his eyes enough to take in your appearance before him, the visual of you open and desperate for him sending him higher. "I- I need you to look all f-fucked-out and pretty for me," He stumbles over his words as he tries to maintain control of the situation, but he's slowly coming undone and his nerves start to sing. "Can you do that for me?" With each motive thrust, your grip in his hair clenches and he releases short open-mouthed gasps. 

Your hand sifts through his locks until you have a firm purchase on the meat of his jaw, turning his head to the side to murmur in his ear, "You already had me wet two hours ago at the venue." Eyes opening in surprise, he attempts to turn back with an inquisitive look, hips stuttering, but you continue to hold his jaw in place. "You looked so fucking good up there." His vulnerable eyes glimmer as he soaks in every word. "So confident, so handsome. God, you're so perfect." You continue to whisper loving encouragement and praise in his ear until he's weak at the knees. The sinful noises he releases are in reaction to your words more than the feel of you surrounding him, the warm moist air between you cut by his high whimpers and whines. Every syllable you speak lifts his ego higher. 

His adrenaline spikes with the motivation of your breathless praise and encouragements, decorated with satisfied moans. If only you knew, he thought, exactly how much you drive him crazy. The lustful, aggressive body language of the motion of his hips is a stark contrast to his heartfelt eyes and adoration; his hips release pent-up kinetic energy while his eyes search for greater relief in your blissful expressions. So very eager for your affection, he is astonished and elated by your desire for him. An oncoming surge of overwhelming emotion overtakes him, plummeting him into a realm of mindlessly seeking his own high, getting off at the sheer thought of being loved. 

Testosterone courses through his system, dissolving him into a grunting and groaning feisty mess. Sweat beads at his hairline as his fingertips grasp at your thighs, but in all of his damp fervor, your legs begin to slide down his skin and give out from their grasp around him. He swiftly clutches the underside of your thigh in order to open you wider against the wall, sourcing unknown strength for a dancer used and spent by the stage. Your shirt snags behind you, revealing a breast into the darkness of the open air, and Hyuck wastes no time in attaching his plump lips to the soft flesh, sucking a trail through the valley of your chest up to your neck. He nips and sucks at your skin with unbridled fervor, and you can't find it within you to hold back your cracked moans. The new angle of your leg pinned up by his strong hands has you climbing toward your peak, but the final blow comes in the form of his gaze meeting yours, his eyes searing with unmatched confidence and power to behold. You come in a flurry of lust, releasing around him as he continues to drive into you with steady strength. 

He's so attractive like this, aggressively desperate, eagerly seeking his peak, instinctively grasping at your skin anywhere and everywhere he can. Your fucked-out expression and gasps for air have him craving release, inspired by the notion of being your pride. As he approaches his climax, his whines and cries become sharper, hoarser, louder. The bridge of his nose crinkles as he breathes through bared teeth, eyebrows furrowing in concentration and eyes shut tight. His body snaps as he drives out the ride of his orgasm, arms shaking with exertion and nose pressing into your cheek. As his cock throbs with each shot of his cum, his whimpers and gasps are muffled into your temple, lips sliding along your ear. 

Taking a moment to float back down to reality, he slowly pulls out and lowers you down one leg at a time. Regarding your disheveled appearance and trembling hands, he holds you as you adjust your wobbly balance. He finds you endearing like this, he thinks, as he watches you study the placement of your feet alongside his boots, your fingers twisting into the moist silk covering his arms in an attempt to gain stability. Returning to your temple, he sinks his nose into your hair and breathes in with deep shaking breaths, running his fingers through the messy locks and holding you closely. Your sweet scent calms him into a state of serenity and his breathing evens. Lifting your eyes, you study his expression in the dark: messy hair, smeared makeup, and bitten red lips. Despite it, he is pure gentility, vulnerable tenderness, and as another car shines their passing lights across your apartment, his expression softens into warm adoration, a smile forming on his lips. 

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Benjamin #5 (smut list)

5. restraining the other

In my Twilight days, I came across a thread that talked about how Meyer originally wanted her story to be a human/faerie romance. Her publisher said, NAY, beetch! Vampires sell! and as it turned out, Meyer didn’t know much about vampire lore and violated many of the core concepts that make vampires interesting. Sparkling, vegetarian vamps without fangs, with venom in their saliva, that are seemingly indestructible aren’t nearly as fun, in my opinion.

What I love about the True Blood vamps is that Charlaine Harris honors much of the canonical lore. My biggest complaint with Meyers is that I just can’t fuck with a vampire that doesn’t have fangs that go … *snick*

So, the version of Benjamin in this fic will be more in canon with vampire lore. 

Warnings: Blood sucking, wrist restraints, jealousy, and copious smut

“Benjamin! You’re not playing fair,” you pouted as you struggled against your restraints.

“You wish to talk to me about fair? Let’s start from the beginning.”

You narrowed your eyes and waited, knowing it was useless to interrupt.

“First, you come into our home smelling like … like him.”

“Second, you spend all day with … him … and then lie about it to me.”

“Third—”

“How many points do you need to make? I am human and will eventually need to use the bathroom.”

Benjamin appeared beside you, moving too quickly for your eyes. You turned your head from where he had been standing and looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes weren’t wholly black. Little starbursts of crimson remained around his pupils to indicate that while he may not yet be starving, he was definitely hungry.  

Waving his hands, the wooden slats on the headboard tightened around your wrists. You were sure that if he could breathe, he’d be taking short, shallow breaths as he wrestled with his jealousy. Instead, you concentrated on his eyes, watching the way they narrowed as he manipulated the earthen molecules that moved through the wood.

“Too tight?” he asked with a casual raise of his eyebrow.

“Nope,” you lied.

“You’re lying.”

Benjamin flexed his fingers and the slats loosened their hold, not enough for you to escape, but enough for you to wiggle your wrists if they grew uncomfortable.

As soon as night fell, Benjamin had been on you, running his hands over your body, inhaling along your pulse points, and with a growl, he had stripped you down to your bra and panties then restrained you in the bed.

He could sense your emotions, but watching your body gave him an even keener insight into what you were feeling. He could smell your arousal, then watch as your panties darkened at the juncture of your thighs; he could observe the blush that crept across your chest when he began to shed layers of his own clothing; and he could uninhibitedly listen as your pulse quickened or steadied.

With a frustrated sigh, your eyes ran over his torso. The lithe muscles covered by his olive skin, his dark nipples hard as he continued to look at you, clearly torn between wanting to ravish and wanting to punish.

Belonging to the undead had its perks, and its detriments. Benjamin loved you, needed you to sustain his own existence and you let him take that from you, delighting in the power you felt when his teeth slipped into your neck, or better yet, into the femoral artery of your thigh. He wanted to make you his, sire you so you would be bonded for eternity, but you weren’t ready yet.

The daytime still offered so many things, namely, the sun. Your current predicament began two weeks ago when you went to the beach with a few friends. As it turned out, your best friend wanted to set you up with one of her brother’s friends: a sweet, good-looking, pre-med student. Because Benjamin was a secret, you couldn’t say no without hurting a slew of feelings, so you figured you could go out on a couple of dates, then discreetly break it off with the whole “it’s not you, it’s me” thing.

None of this you felt was pertinent information for Benjamin to know—that is until he saw you with him.  

“Third,” sounded Benjamin’s voice from a shadowy part of the room. You blinked and looked for the movement of his form. “He can give you everything I can’t.”

Your heart ached at the sadness in his voice.

“Benjamin—no. I don’t want anything you can’t give.”

“Children. Safety. A life in the sun and not in the shadows.” His accent was thicker, his tone less controlled, as he shared his deepest fear.

“But you can give me forever.”

Benjamin slowly stepped back into the light, his muscles flexing beneath his torso as he walked. His face was a mask, a perfectly carved Adonis that conveyed nothing its owner didn’t wish to share.

“So, you will not see him any longer?”

“I’ll break it off tomorrow morning.”

“And you will never do this again?” Benjamin asked, but underneath the question was a warning.

“Never again.”

“Then I’ll release you.”

Before he could loosen the slats, you cleared your throat and shifted on the bed. “Or . . . you could fuck me like this? Restrained and at your mercy.”

Benjamin shivered, like the visual equivalent of a cat’s purr as he circled the bed, waiting for any sign you weren’t being honest.

“Please,” you begged, flexing against the wood. “Teach me a lesson.”

Benjamin’s mouth popped open as his fangs snicked out, his tongue poking between them to wet his lower lip. A quick glance at his trouser fronts told you he was very excited to have you at his mercy—not that you weren’t naturally a creature of lesser power, but this game . . . this was new.

“You,” he began, his accent once again thick, sultry, “belong to me.”

He removed the rest of his clothes, once again too quick for your mortal eye. Your breathing quickened with excitement as your eyes roved over his body, travelling from his face, down his chest to the dark patch of hair at the base of his fantastically hard cock.

You watched the muscles of his thighs flex as he stepped toward the bed, and in another blur of movement, you were naked, too, another set of underwear torn to shreds.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Exposed. Vulnerable. Your body begging for my touch.”

He ran his tongue along the front of his teeth, and you watched, wanting to do the same, to curl your tongue around those deadly points.

“Please, Benjamin,” you whined as your wrists twisted in your restraints, your fingers flexing.

“Tell me,” he said, crawling onto the bed and straddling your thigh. “Did you kiss him?”

“Of course not!”

“Why?” Benjamin’s hands ran up your body, feather light and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Because I’m yours.”

Benjamin grasped your breasts, gently squeezing before he took your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, rubbing and pulling lightly.

You gasped, your hips bucking up, but restrained by the weight of his body on your thigh. Your wrists were caught in the slats as you unconsciously moved your arms, wanting to touch him.

Benjamin’s eyes flickered to this movement and his face broke into a smirk.

“Did you want him to kiss you? To press his lips to yours as his tongue slid along them, seeking permission to claim you?

“No,” you shook your head, your eyes locked on his. “No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m yours.”

Benjamin’s fangs retracted with a hollow snick and he descended on your mouth, claiming you with a bruising kiss. He sucked and nipped at your lips, his cock grinding into your abdomen while his tongue explored every inch of your mouth until you were struggling to breathe. He pushed, kissing you to your limit, and when he pulled back, your chest was heaving, your body tight with an ache that only he could soothe.

He looked down at you, his eyes predatory, and he opened his mouth, his fangs popping out.

“You are mine,” Benjamin stated with finality and when his fangs slid into your neck your body arched, rolling against his as your eyes rolled back from the sting of pain that was quickly followed by a surge of pleasure as he sucked, drawing your blood into his mouth and swallowing before he licked at the wound. He pierced the tip of his tongue with his fang and used his blood to heal the puncture marks, leaving nothing but your smooth skin looking as if it had never been touched.

“Please, Benjamin. I need you. Please,” you begged, tugging again at the headboard, your fingers tapping into the wood, pressing with the desire to angle yourself so he could slide into your soaking pussy.

Benjamin ignored your plea in favor of kissing down your body at an agonizingly slow pace. There wasn’t a patch of skin left on your torso that he didn’t press his lips against, that he didn’t taste. Tears stood in your eyes as you wriggled under his weight, your clit swollen with need.

You’d given up begging, and instead were reduced to whimpers as he teased you, and when he finally moved his weight to spread your thighs open two fat tears leaked from your eyes. Benjamin chuckled and caught them on his tongue, licking along your jaw and up your cheeks before he returned to his spot between your legs.

His mouth was sinful considering his tongue could flick across your clit at a rate no human man could match, but your pleasure wasn’t a part of this game, not yet.

Benjamin asked you to watch him, drawing your eyes open so you could look down your body at him, his curly head moving across your abdomen, drifting over your upper thighs, and when he kissed your mound, he looked up at you, his eyes more red than black now.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You—I be-be-belong to you,” you stuttered as his tongue touched your clit.

He smirked and licked you again, unbearably slow.

You groaned, desperation making the muscles in your abdomen and your thighs tremor.

He flicked his tongue across your clit in earnest, building you up to a climax, but before you could tumble over the edge, he stopped and moved up your body so quickly that he seemed to just disappear and reappear. He clutched your jaw and your eyes opened wide as he spoke, his lips just close enough to yours to touch, for you to feel as he said, “You. Are. Mine.”

And in another blink, he was back between your thighs, sucking on your clit and sending you over the edge, and just when you thought your orgasm was ebbing, Benjamin’s fingers slid inside of your pussy and stroked your g-spot as his fangs slid into your thigh. The pinprick of pain was mixed with the pleasure of another orgasm, this one full-bodied and so intense that it coated Benjamin’s fingers and hand in spurts of your arousal.

Noises of pleasure thrummed from your throat and your body chased after his fingers, needing more.

With a groan as he licked off his fingers, he released you from your restraints. You shook your wrists, but in a flash your legs were hooked under his arms and pushed nearly up to your chest as he thrust inside of you, and for the first time, he moaned, a low, deep rumble.

“Mine,” he growled against your lips before he kissed you, the taste of yourself, your blood and your arousal, mixed bittersweet on his tongue.

“Yours,” you panted. “Yours. Yours. Yours.”

Benjamin fucked you, alternating between deep and hard and shallow and sweet until you were on the brink again, wanting nothing more than to come with him, another advantage of the control Benjamin possessed over his body and yours.

He had you on your hands and knees now, his cock pistoning into you at a fast pace, your breath coming in pants, and this time it was Benjamin who begged in a display of humbling reciprocity.

“Can I come inside of you now, my love? Please—can I come?”

“Oh, fuck, Benjamin! Yes, yes!”

You tumbled over the edge together, Benjamin’s hips never faltering as the cool sensation of his cum filling you up made you shiver, then shiver again as he pulled out and pumped himself dry, more ropes of cool cum splashing onto the cheeks of your ass.

You collapsed, out of breath and strength. Benjamin was gone and back in a flash, a warm washcloth rubbing between your legs and over your backside to clean you up.

You felt Benjamin’s body hover over yours as he pressed soft kisses up your spine.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked with genuine concern.

“God no,” you mumbled into the mattress, your breathing still erratic.

He continued to pepper you with sweet kisses until you rolled over, pushing your tangled hair out of your eyes.

His eyes had become that beautiful, deep red and his features seemed softer, even younger than they had an hour or so ago. Reaching up to trace his cheekbones and his nose, you watched him as he watched you, love radiating from his gaze.  

“I want it to be like this, always.”

Benjamin smiled, a full grin of joy, as he answered, “My love. When you are ready, it will be better than this. For always.”

“Why? Because you’ll have no one to be jealous over again?” you teased.

He narrowed his eyes and his grin faltered to a thin-lipped smile. “I will make sure to remind you, often, who you belong to.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

Benjamin laughed, the carelessness returning to his features that made him so boyishly handsome.

“Haven’t you yet learned that I will give you anything you want?”

“Anything?” you asked, reaching between his legs and pumping his cock, once, twice, before he grew hard in your hand.

“Anything,” he growled, his fangs flashing.

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg sorry this took a while

Heads Up- Part 18 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

Joseph rushed into the gallery first thing in the morning as soon as the doors were opened.

He went straight over to the hall of sculptures as quickly as he could, and to his relief, he saw Caesar on his pedestal, looking fierce and elegant as he did the day before.

"Hey there, Caesarino, hope you're fine," he said.

Caesar darted his eyes over to Joseph but otherwise didn't move.

"It's okay, there's nobody around yet." Joseph reassured him.

At once Caesar dropped all pretense and slumped down. Joseph quickly caught him before he fell over.

"You would not believe the night I had," Caesar groaned, softly.

"Did you get off your pedestal again, Cae?" Joseph scolded. "I'm impressed you even got down from there..." He inspected Caesar all over, checking for any damage, and was relieved to see none. "Still, you could have been caught!"

"I know to freeze when I have to!" Caesar shot back. "You try sitting in one place the whole night!"

"I'm sorry, Caesar, just one more day, please?" Joseph pleaded. "Then you can come home with me after the event is done."

"Alright. Alright." Caesar calmly huffed. "I'll do this for you." He looked up at Joseph with his bright green eyes and gave a shy smile.

Joseph gently stroked his warm, painted cheek. "I promise I'll take you home," he said.

The two suddenly heard footsteps and Caesar immediately froze.

It was Mark, the maintenance man of the gallery. "Who...who are you talking to?" he asked, confused.

"Er, no one," Joseph quickly replied with an awkward grin.

Mark scratched his head. "Say, Mr. Joestar...there's something mighty odd about that sculpture of yours," he said. "It disappeared from its place last night and showed up near the display cabinet of the dead Zeppeli guy's art."

"That's strange..." Joseph pretended to wonder, faking not knowing what happened.

"Maybe my mind is just messing with me," Mark sighed. "I'm probably just tired."

"Yeah, I mean sculptures don't just walk away, do they?" Joseph laughed sheepishly. "I mean, he --it-- doesn't even have any legs to walk away with!"

Caesar frowned at the joke.

"THERE!" Mark exclaimed, stumbling back. "I swear I saw it move!"

"What?" Joseph turned around in mock surprise. There, on the pedestal, Caesar stood, motionless and unmoving as ever.

"Mark, I think you really need to take a day off," Joseph said, giving the maintenance man a pat on the back. "You've probably just been working too hard."

Mark sighed. "I suppose you're right," he said.

As soon as he departed, Joseph turned back toward Caesar.

"Alright, Cae, this is important," he said sternly. "The judging and grading of the sculptures is today, ok? Please, I'm begging you...don't freak the judges out."

"I'll try my hardest not to," Caesar grumbled.

----------

It wasn't long before the time of reckoning was at hand.

"Attention, all participants!" blared a voice from the loudspeaker. "All artists for the judging of the final project of undergrad year-- please proceed to the front gallery when your name is called, and bring your project with you."

"You ready?" Joseph said, breathing heavily.

Caesar didn't reply, fixed in his guise of a lifeless object.

"I know you are," Joseph laughed, resting his hand on his head, feeling the delicate texture of the clay spikes of hair.

"Joestar! Mr. Joestar, please proceed to the front gallery with your project." blared the voice on the speaker.

"Dammit, we're up first," Joseph groaned nervously.

He picked up Caesar, embracing him lightly around his torso stub, and began to carry him to the front gallery, where the judges awaited.

Joseph's eyes widened when he saw the panel that was going to grade his masterpiece.

One was Mr. Zeppeli himself, his face warm and kind. He smiled when he saw Joseph carrying Caesar, the likeness of his late grandson, whose secret he had discovered-- but promised to never tell.

The second was a middle-aged, black haired man, with long, dark hair that fell ominously around his head. His eyes were piercing sharp, his face cold and calculating, and Joseph couldn't help but feel a hint of intimidation at the oddly-disconcerting stranger.

And it was the third judge that struck Joseph the most.

It was Professor Lisa. His own mother.

She eyed him from her seat, pulling down her sunglasses to take a better look. Joseph felt nervous. She may had been a distant figure in his life, but he couldn't help but feel like he had some large shoes to fill, and her stern upringing of him made him all the more anxious of slipping up.

Especially now his art piece had a very deep secret.

Joseph wiped the sweat from his brow as he laid Caesar down onto the desk, where the judges could see him more closely.

"Greetings, Mr. Joestar," the black-haired judge said, to start off the grading. "I see you've made...this to be your entry," he said.

"Yes, it is indeed, mister..." Joseph nervously said.

"That's Professor Straizo to you, young man," snapped the judge.

The judges began to take turns inspecting the motionless Caesar, observing his details, and asking Joseph questions: his inspirations, his methods, his symbolism and intent and metaphorical representation of the figure. All the while, a cascade of emotions rushed through Joseph's heart as he felt a mild hint of disbelief that the moment he'd been working for all these years was finally happening.

He felt simultaneously excited, afraid, anxious, proud... so many feelings flooded him at once. Yet he tried to maintain his composure: to display and exude confidence, regardless of how he felt.

Destiny was upon him, and he refused to let it slip from his grasp.

"Say, Joseph, I'm very impressed," Professor Lisa said, as she inspected each carved line on Caesar's hair, etched into the clay in a convincing imitation of real hair formed of strands. "I'd supposed you wouldn't have the discipline and motivation to make such hard work," she added, with that same strict, scolding tone Joseph knew so well, "but for once I'm glad to be proven wrong. Your effort in creating this figure to such realism as to closely resemble a living person is admirable...and while I promised to grade your art without bias, I must say that this figure is easily the greatest one I have yet to see."

"Even from the eyes merely of a professional artist, and not just that of a mother."

A warm smile crept across Joseph's face.

It felt vindicating to hear that from her.

Professor Straizo was next to evaluate.

"Your taste in art is rather...concerning," he said, in his same cold and intimidating voice. "This figure is so much in a person's likeness that it appears borderline unsettling, like a real-life person save for its lack of body...and a look that seems vaguely living. This thing disturbs me, Mr. Joestar..."

"...and yet somehow I cannot help but admire at how well you create...this to such uncanny precision. What in the world is this meant to be?" he asked Joseph, as if demanding an explanation for the figure he found both repelling and yet alluring.

"Well, Mr. Straizo..." Joseph replied, trying to keep a facade of confidence despite his nervousness, "this figure represents...uh, the power of the human spirit. It represents...courage and passion, and a symbol of how a person's true strength...lies within."

Straizo raised an eyebrow. "Very well, then."

And of course, last to evaluate was none other than Mr. Zeppeli, who gave a knowing wink to Joseph.

"Mr. Joestar, you are very commendable in your passion, your dedication, and your talent in creating this beautiful piece. This piece that you make to give life to a legacy that came before you. A piece that, as Mr. Straizo said, is a bit odd and unconventional, and as Mrs. Lisa said, a labor of love and determination, but one that I say is a testament to your will and your gift. And I say this, Joseph, of your piece-- that it represents you as a person more than anything else.

Joseph felt an odd warmth in his heart as he heard this.

He and Caesar were a perfect match, it seemed.

For the next ten minutes the judges observed Caesar and photographed him from different angles, and discussed among themselves while Joseph looked on, confident at their words of admiration and yet concerned about Caesar breaking character and exposing his secret to the rest of the world.

But thankfully Caesar, trying his best, was able to keep his composure.

And soon the judges had made a decision.

Professor Lisa was the one to speak up. "Joseph Joestar, after much deliberation, we have decided that your piece..."

Joseph tensed up in anticipation.

"...will be this year's first placer in our art gallery. You get an A for creativity, an A for effort, an A for skill and last but nor least, an A+ for your talent in utilizing this medium."

A smile emerged on her face, as she tacked a gold ribbon onto Caesar's base.

A smile of approval that Joseph had yearned for for so long.

"Congratulations, Joseph," she said, with an uncharacteristic warmth to her normally stoic demeanor. "You are now officially a graduate of this university's degree on visual arts!"

"YES!" Joseph exclaimed, pumping his fists eagerly as tears of joy welled up in his eyes. He'd done it, at long last.

His dream was fulfilled at long last.

And he couldn't have done it without Caesar's help.

His joy was tainted with a hint of sadness, however, when he saw the judges and other attendees making a fuss over Caesar, frozen in place while being photographed, touched and admired. He'd promised Caesar he wouldn't let such a fate become his final destiny.

Caesar had helped him succeed. And now he had to do his part.

"Excuse me...Mom?" He asked Professor Lisa, who turned to look at her, with a proud smile at being addressed as such by her normally distant son.

"Could I make a little request? I wish to...get to take my project home with me."

"Why?" she asked, surprised. "Wouldn't you want to put it up on display here at the gallery, for the world to admire?"

"It's...it's that this figure...means a lot to me. I know it may sound weird, but he --it-- is something whose presence comforts me. I put a lot of work in this project...that it doesn't feel like just a project to me. More like a sort of angel of inspiration watching over and guiding me, as silly as that may sound."

"That's a peculiar attachment to that figure of yours, I'd say," she answered with a mildly perplexed look, "but I don't see why not. After all, I can understand why you'd be reluctant to part with it."

Joseph hugged her out of gratitude. "Thanks...Mom. You don't know how much this means to me."

Professor Lisa smiled back as she returned the gesture. He may have grown a lot without her, but he was, and always be, her little boy deep down.

Even if she didn't get to show it.

--------

"Congratulations, Jojo!" Suzi squealed at the gallery, as soon as Joseph walked out of the judges room, Caesar in hand.

"Aww, Suzi," he laughed with a blush. "It's not just me you should congratulate!"

"Oh, right, Caesar too," she giggled sheepishly. "How are you doing there, Cae?"

Caesar glanced around to make sure he wasn't being watched, before replying.

"Suzi... that was the worst moment of my entire life." he complained. "And I've been alive for like, a couple of months."

Joseph and Suzi shared a giggle.

"Don't be like that, Cae. That was your big day too, you know?"

"I know, I know," Caesar answered. "It's just that...it felt so wrong being treated like that, you know?" He sighed.

"Jojo...Suzi...I've always been grateful that you two treated me as a person, even with me being...what I am. And I can't help but feel more grateful for that, than after the judges saw me but as an object," he said sadly. "The world can never know I am alive, and they will never see me as any other way."

Joseph hugged the bust tightly. "You're not an object to me, Caesarino. You're everything to me. And I'm so proud at how brave you were."

He set Caesar back down onto his pedestal, at the gallery.

"We'll just wait for this exhibition to close, alright? Just a few hours more."

"And then you'll finally be going home."

---------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 57

Jae’s voice was an indistinct murmur in the back of her skull as all she could see was the gory mess of the young guard’s remains. Blood oozed from the stump of the giant’s neck, dripping over the stone and down to the ground far below them. Heat from the body sent faint plumes of mist into the air as though his very soul was departing.

Nenani’s mind was fogged over with a wall of numbness that buffered the reality of what she had done. He was dead and she had killed him. The phrase was a gnat buzzing around her head, one she barely noticed at all, though she was dimly aware that she should be feeling more than what she was. There was far less ceremony to the moment than seemed proper. And yet, she did not have it in her to try and care.

Someone grabbed her wrist and began to pull at her. Jae, her mind supplied mechanically.

He was trying to tell her something, but all she heard was the wind in her ears. Everything else was muffled as though being spoken through water. After what seemed like hours, something within her mind clicked into place and all sound came rushing back with a fearsome fury.

“Nenani!” Jae said. His voice warbled strangely as though fighting back his emotions. “We have to climb!”

“Farris...and...” she muttered in a witless delirium, looking around as she tried to remember where she was. “We have to...”

Jae’s face looked strange to her. Not like himself at all.

“No! We aren’t going to be able to help them right now!” He spun her around bodily to face him and shook her hard. The action bent her neck back, and her head and shoulders throbbed in protest. “Those other guards will swarm us and we’ll just end up making it worse.”

The fog of her mind was at last beginning to lift, and all that had been held back then began to trickle in. Her stomach became a churning knot. Looking at Jae, she finally saw him properly and without the fog of numbness to obstruct him. He was crying and looked terrified. Because of her. Because of what she had done.

She did this...

A renewed commotion from within the room derailed her mental downward spiral.

“SEVEN FUCKIN’ HELLS!” came a booming voice. “Fitz is dead!”

The phrase felt like a lead weight dropping onto her head. Her heart was pounding. But even as the true horror of what she had done began to seep into her, another emotion began to overtake it. To challenge it.

She had killed that guard. Just as he would have killed them. Her friend. Her dearest friend. Farris and Keral. Her found family. Would he have any second thoughts or regrets of taking their lives?

There was so much blood.

She saw red. And then the red became white. Anger. White and hot and all encompassing. It was familiar to her, having felt the same once before. Back when Aidus’s serpents had attacked them. It was a primal indignation that demanded retribution. Pain. Blood. They were trying to hurt her friends. Her family. Her people.

She had lost so much to the flames. To Aidus. To those murderous giants still willing to consume human flesh. But now she had befriended giants. She was a keeper of the flames. And she was no longer afraid of Aidus as he lurked and schemed in the shadows.

She was Princess Nenani, Duchess of Ravenwood, daughter of Oira and Hayron Daelg. Her grandfather was a king. Her mother was a queen. She was descended from warriors. She would not let them take anything else from her.

“What?” asked another guard. He grunted in sudden pain as though he had been struck. “Get the fuck back down or I’ll slice ye open!”

“What the fucking hell –!” came the cry of another startled guard. The corpse slid back into the room, and Nenani heard it drop to the floor. The cries of alarm and anguish inside the room intensified.

“Gods above...”

“His head...where’s his fucking head?”

“Go on and get those damn little fuckers!”

“Don’t ye fuckin’ touch ‘em!” Farris’s voice felt like an arrow, and it cut through all the bindings that had been keeping her grounded. She shoved Jae’s hands away from her and ran to the open window. The blood splashed under her bare feet.

Both Farris and Keral were on the ground, and several of the guards were having to hold them down while others tied their hands behind their backs. Farris’s eyes met hers and she could see real fear there. As her fury pulsed, so did her fire, and she held her hands out. The blue flamed vines spilled into the room, hissing viciously, and the wooden floor planks below began to smoke and smolder. Every guard held their position still as they took her in, not seeming to entirely know what to do.

Her eyes glowed a hot white and the air around her shivered with waves of heat.

“Seven bloody hells,” one cursed as he gaped at her slack jawed. “Is that…?”

“A fire mage?”

“There ain’t no fire mages left!”

“What the fuck do you call that then, Wendal?!”

“Release them!” Nenani demanded, her voice filling the room. “Or I will turn your bones to ash.”

The guard who was still in the process of tying up Keral’s hands was frozen in horrified awe. Keral sensed his hesitation and yanked his hands free of the loose bindings, bucking up with all his strength and flinging off the two men pinning him to the floor. He grabbed the sword from the belt of one stunned guard and drove it onto the meat of another man’s thigh. As the wounded guard rolled away with a howl of agony, Keral retrieved his sword from a few feet away and swung it in a wide arc, catching another guard’s shoulder as he scrambled out of the way.

The guards did not have the wherewithal or desire to stand and fight. There was chaos as the attacking giants turned and ran for the door, tripping over themselves as they pushed and shoved. The wounded guard limped pathetically after them, clutching his bleeding thigh.

Keral ran over to Farris, cut the rope binding his hands, and yanked him to his feet.

“Help me move the beds,” Keral said, and they each grabbed one end and pulled it to the door. They pushed it up onto its shorter end as a makeshift barricade and then repeated the maneuver with one other bed. They stood panting and breathless for a few seconds before turning their gazes back to the corpse and then to Nenani.

Nenani let the fire flicker away, expecting a wave of exhaustion to overcome her. But she only felt winded despite having expelled an exorbitant amount of magic. The fire opal set within her belt still buzzed with magic, but as she stood there, catching her breath, it slowly faded away. The power stone and Maevis’s training had served her well it seemed. Looking down at herself, though, she did not believe the kind magician would have a very high opinion of her actions. The headless guard’s body was still slumped down below the window, and the pool of blood she stood in was growing colder and congealing, except for a few places where the heat of her flames had cooked it into hard black slabs.

“Come on off there, my girl.” Nenani started, looking up to see Farris holding his hands out to her. She had not seen or ever heard him move. There was a bruise forming along his jaw, and his nose was bleeding.

“They hurt you,” she said as though trying to justify herself. “They were going to kill you.”

“Come to me,” he said in a gentle voice, cupping her into his hands and drawing her away from the window. If he minded the blood on her feet, he said nothing. He pressed her to his chest and murmured to her. He turned his eyes to the window. “Jae, are you alright, lad?”

“M’fine,” came the unsteady reply. “I just...I just need a minute.”

“Can’t afford to give ye one. Come on, son.”

“I can’t...the...the blood.”

“I know,” Farris said. “Just don’t look and you’ll be fine. Careful though. Some spots are mighty warm.”

“Uh...yeah. Alright.”

With slow and painful steps, Jae carefully made his way to the window. He stepped daintily through the blood, trying to keep his eyes focused on anything and everything else but the red gore. He lifted a foot with a hiss of pain when he accidentally stepped onto one of the still-hot blackened spots. When he reached the window at last, he caught sight of the dead guard’s leg poking out just far enough from the flood for him to see. With abrupt swiftness, he lifted his head up, eyes bulging, and sucked in a breath through gritted teeth.

“Fucking hell,” he hissed, clenching his hands as he tried to meet Farris’s eyes without seeing the corpse. “I hate this. I hate this so fucking much.”

“Yer fine,” Farris told him, tucking Nenani into one arm and reaching out with the other. Farris wrapped his hand around one side of Jae’s torso and allowed the young man to cling to his wrist and arm as he pulled him away. He moved to the last remaining bed and sat them down. Green eyes scanned them as he made visual inventory of their conditions. He lingered on Nenani a bit longer that Jae. When at last he seemed satisfied that they were not hurt, he brushed a finger gently against Nenani’s cheek, with a more earnest expression that she was used to seeing.

“We need to get out of here,” Keral said, assessing their makeshift barricade as he wiped a line of blood from his bottom lip where it had split. “The sooner the better.”

Farris looked as though he wished to protest, but then all hesitation in his expression dried up and he nodded. “I agree. But it’ll be a job.”

“I don’t think it will,” Keral replied, turning to pin Nenani with a meaningful look. “Ye spooked those fuckers real good just now, lass. And me. If I’m honest. Been quite some time since I last saw a real fire mage throw sparks. We can use that.”

With a snarl, Farris rounded on his brother. “Ye better not be thinkin’ what I think ye are, Keral.”

Keral’s gaze was steady and firm.

“She’s our best chance to clear the way,” Keral replied. “Throw out some sparks to clear ‘em off until we have a clear shot through and out.”

“Forgetting the actual details of how we keep those guys off our arses,” Jae interjected. “Don’t forget: the walk up the drive was long. All they’d need was a few arrows and a clear shot.”

“One problem at a time, lad,” Keral replied. “We just need to make it till Colemn’s men come. If we can get out into the open, we might be able to get over the fence or hide in the thickets. Given how fast those fuckers left, they may just leave us the fuck alone.”

“We’re not that lucky,” Jae quipped.

“And what of she uses all her magic like the time before and drops dead?” Farris demanded. “We have none of Maevis’s potion. She will die, Keral.”

Keral glanced at Nenani, the harsh lines of his face softening. Looking back to Farris, he placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“If we don’t find a way out,” Keral said grimly. “We will all die here.”

…………………………….

Despite Farris’s heavy misgivings, it was their best chance. And so the plan was implemented.

Nenani only felt a little tired, as though she had been merely running for a few minutes. But even her quiet assurances did nothing to sway his mood. He despised Keral’s plan and made no show of trying to disguise the fact. As they readied themselves for the first step, they all kept an ear trained on their makeshift barricade for any sound that signaled a second assault attempt from the guards.

Keral strung his arms through his pack, wearing  the bag on his front. Nenani was placed inside but stood on wads of strategically placed items so she was able to see clearly from the open top while also having free range of motion. Farris had Jae secured within his pack, strung on normally across his back. They wore twin expressions of unease and displeasure. Both brothers had their swords in hand, and once they deemed themselves ready, the two beds were pushed over to clear the doorway.

The corridor was clear.

Nenani felt the weight of the incredible amount of trust and faith Keral was placing on her small shoulders. But strangely enough she did not feel fear as she had always known it. Her mind was a narrow view, the world simplified, and the thing she understood above all else was she was going to do whatever it took to get her friends out of there. The heat that circulated through her body gave her a sense of control that she so rarely felt during her magic lessons. It dimmed her self doubt. She did not feel helpless.

She felt...powerful.

The short corridor leading to the stairwell was clear, and with Keral in the lead, they moved out. Nenani kept her hands at the ready, her palms and forearms glowing with stored magic. It would take her mere seconds to increase the flames should the need arise. But even as they made their way carefully down the stairs, ears straining hard for any sign of the guards, the estate was deathly quiet.

Without the windows to let in what little light remained from the fading day, the stairwell was dark and gloomy, with their only source of light being Nenani. Keral held his sword at the ready, the long metal blade angling across Nenani’s vision. On the metal surface, she could see herself, and it gave her pause. She didn’t recognize the face that stared back at her. Her eyes were wide, and dark circles colored the undersides. Her skin was pale and her hair was a mess of tangles and loose strands. Her mouth was twisted into a concentrating frown.

She saw more of her mother in her reflection than herself.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, everything was cast in deep shadow. No candles had been lit or lanterns brought out. No one seemed to be around at all. Far off in the distance, there was a sound that tickled Nenani’s ears, but she could not quite give it a name. It was an indistinct hum that rose and fell without sense or pattern.

Keral seemed to have heard it as well, and he tilted his head to and fro as though trying to better catch the sound.

“I think I hear – ”

“Augh!” A shadowed figure leaped from the dark corner, a short sword swinging wilding as the young footman from before descended upon the group. Keral took a single step back, bringing the hilt of his sword up to angle his blade down. The footman’s wild swing at the ranger’s legs bounced off the longer and stronger sword. Clearly inexperienced with anything other than a serving tray, the young giant’s hold on his short sword failed, and he floundered as he tried to regain his grip.

Nenani, having been startled by the sudden attack, increased her flames, and pale yellow light flooded the space. The footman stood several paces from them, holding his weapon more in the manner of a baton than a sword. It was an old blade, mistreated and rusting near the hilt. The footman was young and clearly terrified. His cheeks glistened with tears under red rimmed eyes.

“Put it down, boy,” Keral growled, holding his sword out. “Is it worth dyin’ for?”

“I’m already dead,” the footman sobbed. “If you leave here and the king finds out, he’ll have us all hanged.”

“That is the general punishment for treason,” Keral replied.

“I just needed a job!”

Farris snarled in disgust, unmoved by the younger giant’s pathetic weeping. “So ye turned a blind eye to kidnappin’ and murder fer a few fuckin’ coins?”

“It’s so easy for you to condemn me,” the boy said. “I have a family to feed. Fuck! I just needed a damn job! I didn’t sign up for any of this you know! I don’t hate humans, I swear. But once I knew all that was really...going on...I couldn’t just leave. They wouldn’t just let me go. They’d have killed me. I had no choice!”

“We all have a choice,” Farris replied.

The footman’s self pitying anguish turned onto the kitchen master, his sorrow turning to hate and disdain. “I know who you are. And it’s a damn fine thing for you of all people to look down on me. How many humans died under your hands and stewed in your pots?”

“Careful,” Keral snarled, swinging his blade to slap the footman’s sword and nearly knocking it from his hands. “Yer steppin’ mightly close to things ye don’t understand.”

The footman fumbled with the sword again but recovered quickly. He turned his gaze to Keral, his brown eyes staring hard. He started to openly weep.

“I understand perfectly well. I understand that you try and justify it all while it happens. That each and every time you weigh their lives with what you’ll lose if you don’t go along with it all.” He took a long, ragged breath. “And that you make your choice, but it’s no choice at all. It’s a noose that you wear. All the time. And bit by bit it slowly tightens and then one day you realize your standing on the edge and all that’s needed is that final push and all your sins will come to collect.”

He wiped miserably at his face while the sword fell lax in his grip.

“And that maybe you’re a little glad of it,” he told them. “Maybe you just want it all to stop. To just...finally be done with it all. One way or another.”

Movement to her left drew Nenani’s eye, and she watched with confusion as Farris walked towards the footman. Jae had hunkered down into the pack with only the top of his head peeking out.

“One way or another,” Farris echoed as he approached. The footman nodded and his hand let go of the sword, allowing it to clatter noisily onto the flagstone.

“I just want it to end.”

“It does have an end,” Farris said and not unkindly. “One way or another.”

The kitchen master thrust his fist into the footman’s abdomen, just below the ribs, and the only sound was the gasping breath from his startled lungs. Farris caught the falling body as it went limp with the force of the strike. The footman coughed and groaned.

“Not my place to place judgment,” Farris told him. “Yer sins are yer own to carry and whatever is made of ‘em...well, that’d be it. But if ye happen to not be around when we finally manage to get this fuckin’ mess sorted...well, I ain’t never heard of ye. Never saw ye.”

And without any ceremony, Farris rose to his feet and began to walk away. Keral followed a step or two behind but paused to regard the footman as he stared up with bleary eyed confusion.

“Since I have your attention, where is everyone?”

“Out...they went...outside,” he said.

Keral smirked in self satisfaction. “The lil’ lass give ‘em a good fright, eh?”

“No...not...well...not only her...there’s...there is a…” the footman continued to gasp and struggle to form words. “There is a…”

“Come on now, boy,” Keral said. “Use your words now.”

“There are...men...marching...towards the estate,” he managed at last. “The reserve militia...is being called...to help... fight back…”

“How many are marching?”

“I heard...eight hundred. Maybe a thousand.”

“How many are in the reserve militia?”

“Five hundred in the reserve guard,” the young man said. “But...in the standing...guard...there are closer to nine hundred.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[graham-cheshire]

Studies & Theories of the Tricar

Hello once again dear readers. For those among you who haven’t heard of @starr-fall-knight-rise I suggest giving them a visit and reading their stories, as they're some of my favorite sci-fi stories, they provide entertaining perspectives on humanity from the viewpoint of aliens, form the basis of this post, and have evolved into an engaging series.

I'm happy to once again be writing another addition to this little series, the reveal of the Tricar was the perfect opportunity as the other species written of by starr-fall had been described with great detail & left little reason to cover them with a Studies & Theories.

As usual I shall start by providing confirmed facts and information about the physical appearance of the Tricar from their debut story 'Humans are Space Orcs, "From the Stars." ‘ by starr-fall, then I shall list what information we can infer from other provided details, and wrap up with my own theories regarding what I think is most plausible for their appearance.

Regarding the Tricar, the most notable fact about them is that their homeworld has an average temperature in the subzero range, and the story is told from their point-of-view, with several descriptions about humans from their perspective.

Before starting here are the usual disclaimers= First: I want to thank starr-fall-knight-rise for allowing me to do this & for receiving my previous speculations positively, I in no way own the Tricar or make any claim to such & I want to say that I'm doing this simply because I love starr-fall’s stories & wish to contribute in some way to the fandom. Secondly: I'm by no means a biologist & most of my research comes from the internet, if I am wrong in my information please don't bash me and simply provide clarification in the comments. Thirdly: I'll use reference images to help describe my thinking and theories and I in no way own or take credit for these images

The Confirmed Appearance Details

"gloved fingers"

"slamming the flat of her palm against the side"

"bright blue eyes"

"placed a hand on his arm"

"she kicked at it with her back feet"

"front of her jacket, splitting it open, so that thick clumps of her white/grey fur poked through."

"watching the yellow orange of her blood spill into the tube"

"tail tucked nervously up against one of her legs"

"brows knitted together over his snout"

The Inferred Appearance Details

"stepped up to the interior door & shouldered it open", "landed hard on her back", "rolling onto her stomach" = From here I believe we can safely assume the Tricar possess a human-like torso with shoulders, back, & front.

"its legs impossibly long, its arms the same, & a small head perched atop it all." = This bit is referring to a human viewed from the view of a Tricar. From this we can infer that their legs and arms are much shorter than a human's, and while we could also assume they have smaller heads it should be noted that they have snouts as mentioned earlier so that should factor into size.

"they weren't her footprints, far too large" = In proportion to the shorter legs it follows that they'd have smaller feet, though this will also be touched on later.

"her ears twitched", "ears leaning back against her head" = With these we can infer that they don’t have ears like a human & I think it would be safe to infer that they have ears similar to an animal's, which I will touch on later in the Theories section.

"dropping down to crouch on with her hands" = This one is a little more of a wild shot, but we could infer that they may have a body structure that could allow for "knuckle-walking" the form of quadrupedal walking used by gorillas, chimpanzees, anteaters, and platypuses.

"placing its long thin fingers on her friend's neck" = This is another bit referring to a human, with it we can infer that a Tricar’s fingers are both shorter and thicker in proportion to a humans, stubby in another word or possibility.

"she could hear the movement of its joints" = Here we could infer with the information about ears from earlier that the Tricar have better hearing than humans, however it can’t be ignored that they character referenced is a human known to occasionally wear an exoskeleton with joints that could also be responsible for the noise.

"she went to her knees" = This bit can be used to infer that the Tricar are bipedal in some sense, with a leg structure that uses knees.

"its fleshy hairless face" = Another bit referring to a human, we can use this to infer that the Tricar, in addition to the fur mentioned earlier on their bodies that their faces are also covered.

"its lips were thick" = The final bit we’ll use that references humans, we can infer at least that their lips are thin, possibly even non-expressive in combination with the snout mentioned from earlier.

"live on an icy planet prone to blizzards & storms" = Using this bit of info we can infer that the Tricar will need some physical traits that will make living on such a planet plausible, their fur and potential enhanced hearing would fall into this area but I’ll cover more in the next section.

"live in elaborate ice caves & surface buildings made of insulated metal" = This bit we could use to infer that the species possible inhabited caves before developing the technology for building, with the necessary traits for living in such conditions, to be touched on it the Theories section.

"average temperature on their planet is around -20 Fahrenheit to -28 Celsius" = This is a major bit of info we’ll need to use, as it infers that the Tricar need the physical capability to survive in subzero temperatures, even if their dwellings would protect them from such conditions.

The Theorized Appearance Details

Starting off this section lets confirm that the presence of fur on the Tricar means that they are almost certainly mammals, and because of that I shall draw most of my theories regarding their appearance from mammals on Earth that can survive in subzero conditions, a big trait of the Tricar.

Let’s start with their fur, which we know that is thick, which makes absolute sense but it’s likely it covers the entirety of their body in order to minimize heat loss and provide insulation to trap a layer of air and preserve body heat, a trait used by snow leopards, arctic hares, & arctic foxes.

Next let’s cover their appendages, meaning hands, feet, and tail. 

As earlier stated we can confirm that they have the basic human-like hand structure with a palm and fingers, but the fingers are shorter and thicker than a humans but also are shown dexterous enough to use doors and microscopes. I’ll theorize here from the bit stated earlier that the Tricar have traits evolved from living in caves that they might have long strong claws like an arctic hare’s for digging and expanding such ice caves or carving them out for themselves, as well as aiding in traversal over ice and snow.

For feet let’s remember that they are smaller than a human’s, but as for their shape and appearance I’d theorize they’re like the hind feet of the snowshoe hare, which can spread their toes to act like snowshoes & help them walk on the surface of deep snow without falling through. The furry soles would also help with walking easily on ice and snow.

Now so far it’d be fair to assume that the Tricar could look like bipedal arctic hares, however their tails do provide a large difference. Stated earlier where a Tricar’s tail tucked against their leg due to nerves we can assume that they have some amount of length as well as at least having some instinctual movements. Now we could simply theorize that they have a tail like an arctic fox.

However I think an other interesting theory we could use is that they have tails like a snow leopard. These tails are long and flexible, which would help a bipedal species with keeping balance, but they are also thick and contain a large amount of fat that would be perfect to keep the tail warm. 

Also as another note snow leopards use these tails similarly to a blanket to protect their faces while sleeping, something also done by squirrels who’ll wrap their tails around their bodies during snow storms, a useful trait the Tricar might have used before the evolved to be bipedal, or might even still use.

Moving on to the rest of the body we know that the Tricar have shorter arms and legs than human’s, the legs likely being strong for moving on the snow and  digitigrade to support the foot structure from earlier. Their bodies are also likely stocky to reduce body surface area & minimize heat loss. For visualization I’d theorize the shape might be similar to an otter’s but with slightly longer arms and legs.

As stated before the Tricar have snouts that likely don’t expressive lips, so their head shape I’d theorize is less like the arctic hare and more like the snow leopard or arctic fox, both of which have short snouts that reduce body surface area and consequently exposure to extreme cold. Also note that we know the Tricar have expressive brows.

Next let’s discuss the ears, which we know the Tricar have ears that twitch and can fold back against their heads. We can’t simply theorize they have long &/or big ears as their environment means that large ears would suffer from the extreme cold, this can be seen on Earth where the arctic hare has small ears compared to the black-tailed jackrabbit who uses it’s ears to cool down. 

However since it’s likely the Tricar have good hearing I would theorize the shape and appearance of their ears would be similar to the arctic hare over the snow leopard and arctic fox.

Regarding the hearing I’m inclined to theorize that the Tricar do have better hearing than humans as this would be advantageous for their environment. The blizzards & storms mentioned as being common on their homeworld means high winds and low visibility, so the Tricar would need good hearing, especially as snowy places tend to receive less sunlight & thus mean things are likely dark, even with artificial lighting in both their caves and surface buildings. 

Expanding on this I’d theorize that the Tricar’s homeworld does not get much sunlight, if rarely, due to the bright blue eyes mentioned earlier. While it’s entirely possible that the Tricar could have as wide a variety of eye color as humans, blue eyes contain less melanin than green, hazel or brown eyes. Melanin in the iris of the eye appears to help protect the back of the eye from damage caused by UV radiation and high-energy visible “blue” light from sunlight and artificial sources of these rays, so melanin would be very useful in an snowy environment were sunlight would reflect directly off the snow and has been known to cause blindness after prolonged exposure (for more information look up Photokeratitis).

Further theories could be made if we knew more about the Tricar regarding their culture and diet but I will make one final theory regarding their blood, which is mentioned as being yellow orange in color. It is known that some fish blood contains special proteins in their blood that act like antifreeze, binding to ice crystals & keeping them small to prevent widespread crystallization, so this is something that could be present in Tricar blood to keep them from freezing. As for the color, it’s possible that their blood cells could contain Coboglobin instead of Hemoglobin. Hemoglobin is the protein molecule in human red blood cells that carries oxygen from the lungs to the body's tissues and returns carbon dioxide from the tissues back to the lungs. Hemoglobin contains iron which is responsible for the red color of human blood. Coboglobin however is currently a synthetic protein developed on Earth that functions like hemoglobin but uses cobalt in place of iron, and would cause the blood to be amber yellow.

With that I believe we’re finished with the theories regarding the Tricar. I hope that these theories hit close to the appearance starr-fall visualized when creating the Tricar but regardless it was fun to once again do another post like this. If you enjoyed this post you can find my previous ones in this series down below. If any readers have tips on where I can improve my writing please comment below and I hope I can do another one of these posts in the future. 

Studies and Theories for the Gnar’lak

Studies and Theories for the Finnari

Studies and Theories for the Gromm

[leviathanlazarus]

Cuffed

Pairing: Joe Elliott x Rick Savage

Word Count: ~1900

Warnings: smut alert! [light bondage; handjob; oral sex] 18+ only.

You all knew it was only a matter of time before I wrote a Def Leppard fic and this fantasy has been brewing in my mind for far too long. Obviously instigated by the “Foolin’” music video, and obviously I wish I had a GIF to represent that better, but this Pryomania-era pic of Joe and Sav will have to do. I hope you enjoy ~

---

It had been too good of an opportunity to pass up--Joe, nearly entirely spread-eagle on the beams, exposing a smooth, taut midriff, his ribs protruding beneath the tight white tank, nipples already hyper-sensitive peaks even just as he managed to dart his eyes over to Sav between takes. Sav was oggling him more obviously and teasing too, biting his lip every now and again as cool eyes raked over the vulnerable, bondaged body. That had made Joe sweat even more underneath the lights and eventually he had to talk himself out of getting hard as the camera was angled between his legs.

They hadn’t even discussed it, really. They just went back, after-hours, having managed to get themselves into the studio unnoticed. After dark, it was just them and the set was still mostly up, including the beams Joe had been tethered to, and he’d even put on the same outfit to complete the experience after Sav heavily hinting that he wanted that, too.

He shoved Joe back, wasting no time in grabbing one wrist, then the other, and locked him in the cuffs. Joe was halfway to hard already with that touch alone, the softness of Sav’s hands wrapped around his wrists and the careful workings of his fingers to cuff him. 

Sav glanced down and revealed the hint of a smirk, then traced one fingertip along the waistband of Joe’s white pants. “Sexy,” was all he said and the cool blue eyes flicked upward.

“You think so?” Joe replied. He knew so. He still wanted to hear Sav tell him. 

Sav snorted and the smirk grew. “Yeah. Seeing you shackled and helpless--that’s a first.”

“And you like it?”

Sav leaned in and kissed him; Joe sighed, relaxed within his holds, wishing he could reach out and pull him in closer but was still invested in the idea of him giving up control and Sav taking the lead. His heart was racing, sweat had already broken out over his hairline, and he was already arching his back to press his crotch against Sav’s hips. 

“It was difficult,” he said as Sav pulled back before their tongues could even meet. “With you giving me those eyes the whole time.”

“I can’t say that I’m sorry.” Sav traced another line across his abdomen, sending goosebumps over Joe’s skin. “It was fun to see you getting riled up. And having to pretend that you weren’t.” 

“What, with you batting your eyelashes and all that,” Joe reminded him, straining against the bondage already. “C'mere.” 

Sav obliged, pressing himself against Joe and bringing their mouths together. He parted his lips and Joe was able to slip his tongue between them--two warm, wet muscles meeting finally, Sav’s lips so soft and inviting that Joe strained even more to keep him tethered. He wanted to beg, to plead for Sav to touch him but he didn’t want to break the kiss--thankfully, Sav took that silent plea and ran his hands down his torso, first gripping Joe’s chest through the thin tank and then sliding them down to his bare midriff, then back up again.

Joe’s breath hitched with Sav’s hands feeling him up like that--sure, it had happened before, now more than enough times for him to feel completely comfortable under those hands, more than enough for him to crave it even when Sav wasn’t around, but when the bassist’s fingertips brushed over his nipples as the other hand caressed his side, Joe felt like he was going to burst right though his pants. The soft lips broke away from his own and he almost protested until Sav ventured down his jaw, then to his neck; Joe strained himself to arch up again, starting to grind as best he could against Sav’s front. His lips were gently moving down Joe’s throat, pausing to suck on his Adam’s apple, and Joe held back a whine--no, he couldn’t let Sav have it all yet, couldn’t let him think he’d gotten so deep into him just from that that his heart was beating furiously and he was completely erect, his hard-on pressing against Sav’s thigh.

Sav knew it, of course. He could feel Joe’s frantic pulse in his neck and he kissed and licked his way over to it, sucking right above the fluttering beat, only stopping to bring his face level with Joe’s so he could ask, “Ready to give in?”

Joe stopped himself from nodding. “You have to do more than that, Sav.”

Sav smiled and hummed, then returned to tormenting his neck. Lips suctioned and the tips of teeth sank in just enough, and Joe was writhing and moaning as a bright, hot hickey was sucked into his skin. Suddenly and quickly, Sav ducked down and latched onto his nipple, sucking through the shirt, nipping it with his teeth, toying with the other with his fingers. 

Joe still wanted to touch Sav--badly--but the ministrations of his hands and mouth were working him over so good that he felt himself giving in little by little, falling slack against the beams even as he continued to writhe against him. He was doing a good job of that, too--grinding his dick against Sav’s thigh, getting enough friction for more precum to swell through his underwear, swollen balls tender and eager to rupture. He was feeling more and more like he could let himself be held up there all night, just let Sav do whatever he wanted, and it seemed like Sav wasn’t in any hurry, either.

One patient hand traveled down and popped the button on Joe’s pants, inciting a sharp inhale from the frontman as the same hand shoved its way down further, making the zipper undo itself little by little. When Joe’s breath grew so heavy in his chest he was a second away from barking at Sav to just do it, just take him in hand, Sav unzipped his pants the rest of the way and slid his hand over hot, bare skin. 

“Fuck,” Joe breathed out, chest heaving, bucking his hips only once before Sav put his free hand on his side to still him. “Come on.”

“What do you want me to do?” Sav asked, a cheeky smile painted across his lips, his hand already starting to do the work--he was petting Joe, running his fingertips through his pubic hair and then down, lightly stroking his cock, bringing the tip of his forefinger forward to tease the weeping slit. 

“You know.” Joe let his head fall back, swallowing hard before adding, “Touch me.”

Sav took the fully exposed, vulnerable throat with his mouth, latching onto Joe’s neck with swollen lips and biting teeth, pressing himself flush against him. He wrapped his entire hand around Joe’s cock, finally giving him some relief, and started to stroke as he ground against his hip and thigh. Joe winced and hissed at another hickey--this one with more teeth than suction--being scorched into his neck; he was riled up, so riled up that if he weren’t in the cuffs, he’d shove Sav back, pounce, and they’d be on the floor tearing each other’s clothes off. Instead, he let himself give in further, let himself be stroked and worked over by Sav’s hands and his tender skin be further bruised and bitten, that pretty mouth of his always eager to make some sort of mark on Joe. 

But he wanted that mouth on his own again. Joe lifted his head, dropped his chin against the mess of curls, and waited for Sav to look up and meet his eye. He did, and that silent, visual exchange was so quick yet so deep that it spurred Joe on to unravel more, hump against Sav’s hand and moan even before they were kissing again. Sav grabbed the back of his head and slid his tongue into Joe’s mouth swiftly--Joe kissed back with all the strength he had, his own need to dominate still present even if it was just in his kiss, as his body grew hotter and hotter and his cock leaked more and more, dribbling over Sav’s fingers. 

He was thrusting as much as Sav would allow, rocking the beams, the cuffs jangling at his wrists; Sav bit down on his bottom lip, combating the scrape of teeth Joe had given against his tongue, and released his hold on Joe’s hair to go down and cup his balls. Sav nearly pulled back to look down at the premature mess on his fingers and the increasingly warm and swollen balls in his palm, but Joe’s teeth dragging across his bottom lip and his mouth parting, tongue drenched in both their saliva, kept him there. 

Joe was shaking. He tore himself away, panting, face shiny with sweat: “Sav--please--”

For a moment, Sav wanted to put the whole thing on pause--still his hands and press himself right up against the incapacitated Joe and kiss him deeply, sweetly, and pet back his damp hair. But Joe needed to come, so Sav kept stroking as he dropped to his knees and went front and center with Joe’s groin--he ducked his head down and lapped at his balls first, then took one in his mouth, then the other, until Joe’s whines morphed into low growls and he thrust his hips forward, nearly knocking Sav backwards. 

Joe pleaded his name again--Sav switched from mouth to hand, cradling Joe’s balls once more, and took him in his mouth, the mixture of their saliva wetting the shaft enough for him to almost gracefully slide down, lips suctioned and tongue flat beneath the swollen flesh. Joe managed to keep his hips mostly still, only twitching and shimmying them a bit, helpless and aching and so ready to release himself down Sav’s throat.

He could feel it, feel the surge of intense heat that ran from Joe’s balls through his shaft--Sav let his tongue glide up and off, wrapping his hand around Joe’s cock and stroking him slowly, and sucked on the head, the salty-sweet taste of the last of precum glossing over his taste buds. Joe cursed and groaned and moaned Sav’s name again as he came, hips jolting forward and then back just as fast, his ass grinding back into air as he shuddered and heaved; Sav kept stroking slow and deliberate and made gentle the sucking of his head, a minute later freeing his lip of it to lap and tease Joe’s slit with the tip of his tongue, finally draining him.

Sav gripped Joe’s thighs to steady himself as he got up--and to feel the last tremors pass through him--before moving in close, doing what he’d wanted to do just a few minutes prior. He gently raked his fingers through Joe’s hair above his nape and kissed him sweetly, close-lipped until Joe parted his own and the tips of their tongues met again, reaching over to undo one cuff, then the other, grabbing Joe’s hands to help him off. 

“Your turn,” Joe said, cheeks flushed and hot as they brushed Sav’s, him leaning in for another kiss. Sav wrapped his arms around Joe’s neck, tilting his chin up to meet him, and Joe’s hands first smoothed over his waist, then his lower back. Joe pulled back and sea-green eyes flashed, playfully taunting: “But if you get up there, I can’t promise we won’t be here all night.” 

---

Only tagging @mountainofthesunn​ because she said to ;) I don’t know if the rest of y’all want DL fics ~~

[birdlord]

Everything I Watched in 2020

We’ll start with movies. The number in parentheses is the year of release, asterisks denote a re-watch, and titles in bold are my favourite watches of the year. Here’s 2019’s list. 

01 Little Women (19)

02 The Post (17) 

03 Molly’s Game (17)

04 * Doctor No (62)

05 Groundhog Day (93)

06 *Star Trek IV - The Voyage Home (86)

07 Knives Out (19) My last theatre experience (sob)

08 Professor Marston and his Wonder Women (17)

09 Les Miserables (98)

10 Midsommar (19) I’m not sure how *good* it is, but it does stick in the ol’ brain

11 *Manhattan Murder Mystery (93)

12 Marriage Story (19)

13 Kramer vs Kramer (79)

14 Jojo Rabbit (19)

15 J’ai perdu mon corps (19) a cute animated film about a hand detached from its body!

16 1917 (19)

17 Married to the Mob (88)

18 Klaus (19)

19 Portrait of a Lady on Fire (19) If Little Women made me want to wear a scarf criss-crossed around my torso, this one made me want to wear a cloak

20 The Last Black Man in San Francisco (19)

21 *Lawrence of Arabia (62)

22 Gone With the Wind (39)

23 Kiss Me Deadly (55)

24 Dredd (12)

25 Heartburn (86) heard a bunch about this one in the Blank Check series on Nora Ephron, sadly after I’d watched it

26 The Long Shot (19)

27 Out of Africa (85)

28 King Kong (46)

29 *Johnny Mnemonic (95)

30 Knocked Up (07)

31 Collateral (04)

32 Bird on a Wire (90)

33 The Black Dahlia (05)

34 Long Time Running (17)

35 *Magic Mike (12)

36 Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (07)

37 Cold War (18)

38 *Kramer Vs Kramer (79) yes I watched this a few months before! This was a pandemic friend group co-watch.

39 *Burn After Reading (08)

40 Last Holiday (50)

41 Fly Away Home (96)

42 *Moneyball (11) I’m sure I watch this every two years, at most??

43 Last Holiday (06) the Queen Latifah version of the 1950 movie above, lacking, of course, the brutal “poor people don’t deserve anything good” ending

44 *Safe (95)

45 Gimme Shelter (70)

46 The Daytrippers (96)

47 Experiment in Terror (62)

48 Tucker: The Man and His Dream (88)

49 My Brilliant Career (79) one of the salvations of 2020 was watching movies “with” friends. Our usual method was to video chat before the movie, sync our streaming services, and text-chat while the movie was on. 

50 Divorce Italian Style (61)

51 *Gosford Park (01) another classic comfort watch, fuck I love a G. Park

52 Hopscotch (80)

53 Brief Encounter (45)

54 Hud (63)

55 Ocean’s 8 (18)

56 *Beverly Hills Cop (84)

57 Blow the Man Down (19)

58 Constantine (05)

59 The Report (19) maddening!! How are people so consistently terrible to one another!

60 Everyday People (04)

61 Anatomy of a Murder (58)

62 Spiderman: Homecoming (17)

63 *To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (95) Of the 90s drag road movies, Priscilla is more visually striking, but this has its moments.

64 Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (92)

65 *The Truman Show (98)

66 Mona Lisa (86)

67 The Blob (58)

68 The Guard (11)

69 *Waiting for Guffman (96) RIP Fred Willard

70 Rocketman (19)

71 Outside In (18)

72 The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (08) how strange to see a movie that you have known the premise for, but no details of, for over a decade

73 *Star Trek: The Undiscovered Country (91)

74 The Reader (08)

75 Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (19) This was fine until it VERY MUCH WAS NOT FINE

76 The End of the Affair (99) you try to watch a fun little romp about infidelity during the Blitz, and Graham Greene can’t help but shoehorn in a friggin crisis of religious faith

77 Must Love Dogs (05) barely any dog content, where are the dogs at

78 The Rainmaker (97)

79 *Batman & Robin (97)

80 National Lampoon’s Vacation (83) Never seen any of the non-xmas Vacations, didn’t realize the children are totally different, not just actors but ages! Also, this one is blatantly racist!

81 *Mystic Pizza (88)

82 Funny Girl (68)

83 The Sons of Katie Elder (65)

84 *Knives Out (19) another re-watch within the same year!! How does this keep happening??

85 *Scott Pilgrim Vs The World (10) a real I-just-moved-away-from-Toronto nostalgia watch

86 Canadian Bacon (92) vividly recall this VHS at the video store, but I never saw it til 2020

87 *Blood Simple (85)

88 Brittany Runs a Marathon (19)

89 The Accidental Tourist (88)

90 August Osage County (13) MELO-DRAMA!!

91 Appaloosa (08)

92 The Firm (93) Feeling good about how many iconic 80s/90s video store stalwarts I watched in 2020

93 *Almost Famous (00)

94 Whisper of the Heart (95)

95 Da 5 Bloods (20)

96 Rain Man (88)

97 True Stories (86)

98 *Risky Business (83) It’s not about what you think it’s about! It never was!

99 *The Big Chill (83)

100 The Way We Were (73)

101 Safety Last (23) It’s getting so that I might have to add the first two digits to my dates...not that I watch THAT many movies from the 1920s...

102 Phantasm (79)

103 The Burrowers (08)

104 New Jack City (91)

105 The Vanishing (88)

106 Sisters (72)

107 Puberty Blues (81) Little Aussie cinema theme, here

108 Elevator to the Gallows (58)

109 Les Diaboliques (55)

110 House (77) haha WHAT no really W H A T

111 Death Line (72)

112 Cranes are Flying (57)

113 Holes (03)

114 *Lady Vengeance (05)

115 Long Weekend (78)

116 Body Double (84)

117 The Crazies (73) I love that Romero shows the utter confusion that would no doubt reign in the case of any kind of disaster. Things fall apart.

118 Waterlilies (07)

119 *You’re Next (11)

120 Event Horizon (97)

121 Venom (18) I liked it, guys, way more than most superhero fare. Has a real sense of place and the place ISN’T New York!

122 Under the Silver Lake (18) RIP Night Call

123 *Blade Runner (82)

124 *The Birds (62) interesting to see now that I’ve read the story it came from

125 *28 Days Later (02) hits REAL FUCKIN’ DIFFERENT in a pandemic

126 Life is Sweet (90)

127 *So I Married an Axe Murderer (93) find me a more 90s movie, I dare you (it’s not possible)

128 Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (67)

129 The Pelican Brief (93) 90s thrillers continue!

130 Dick Johnston is Dead (20)

131 The Bridges of Madison County (95)

132 Earth Girls are Easy (88) Geena Davis and Jeff Goldblum are so hot in this movie, no wonder they got married 

133 Better Watch Out (16)

134 Drowning Mona (00) trying for something like the Coen bros and not getting there

135 Au Revoir Les Enfants (87)

136 *Chasing Amy (97) Affleck is the least alluring movie lead...ever? I also think I gave Joey Lauren Adams’ character short shrift in my memory of the movie. It’s not good, but she’s more complicated than I recalled. 

137 Blackkklansman (18)

138 Being Frank (19)

139 Kiki’s Delivery Service (89)

140 Uncle Frank (20) why so many FRANKS

141 *National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (89) watching with pals (virtually) made it so much more fun than the usual yearly watch!

142 Half Baked (98) another, more secret Toronto nostalgia pic - RC Harris water filtration plant as a prison!

143 We’re the Millers (13)

144 All is Bright (13)

145 Defending Your Life (91)

146 Christmas Chronicles (18) I maintain that most new xmas movies are terrible, particularly now that Netflix churns them out like eggnog every year. 

147 Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse (18)

148 Reindeer Games (00) what did I say about Affleck??!? WHAT DID I SAY

149 Palm Springs (20)

150 Happiest Season (20)

151 *Metropolitan (90) it’s definitely a Christmas movie

152 Black Christmas (74)

THEATRE:HOME - 2:150 (thanks pandemic)

I usually separate out docs and fiction, but I watched almost no documentaries this year (with the exception of Dick Johnston). Reality is real enough. 

TV Series

01 - BoJack Horseman (final season) - Pretty damned poignant finish to the show, replete with actual consequences for our reformed bad boy protagonist (which is more than you can say for most antiheroes of Peak TV).

02 - *Hello Ladies - I enjoy the pure awkwardness of seeing Stephen Merchant try to perform being a Regular Person, but ultimately this show tips him too far towards a nasty, Ricky Gervais-lite sort of persona. Perhaps he was always best as a cameo appearance, or lip synching with wild eyes while Chrissy Teigen giggles?

03 - Olive Kittredge - a rough watch by times. I read the book as well, later in the year. Frances Mcdormand was the best, possibly the only, casting option for the flinty lead. One episode tips into thriller territory, which is a shock. 

04 - *The Wire S3, S4, S5 - lockdown culture! It was interesting to rewatch this, then a few months later go through an enormous, culture-level reappraisal of cop-centred narratives. 

05 - Forever - a Maya Rudolph/Fred Armisen joint that coasts on the charm of its leads. The premise is OK, but I wasn’t left wanting any more at the end. 

06 - *Catastrophe - a rewatch when my partner decided he wanted to see it, too!

07 - Red Oak - resolutely “OK” steaming dramedy, relied heavily on some pretty obvious cues to get across its 1980s setting. 

08 - Little Fires Everywhere - gulped this one down while in 14-day isolation, delicious! Every 90s suburban mom had that SUV, but not all of them had the requisite **secrets**

09 - The Great - fun historical comedy/drama! Costumes: lush. Actors: amusing. Race-blind casting: refreshing!

10 - The Crown S4 - this is the season everyone lost their everloving shit for, since it’s finally recent enough history that a fair chunk of the viewing audience is liable to recall it happening. 

11 - Ted Lasso - we resisted this one for a while (thought I did enjoy the ad campaign for NBC sports (!!) that it was based on). My view is that its best point was the comfort that the men on the show have (or develop, throughout the season) with the acknowledgement and sharing of their own feelings. Masculinity redux. 

12 - Moonbase 8 - Goodnatured in a way that makes you certain they will be crushed. 

13 - The Good Lord Bird - Ethan Hawke is really aging into the character actor we always hoped he would be! 

14 - Hollywood - frothy wish-fulfillment alternate history. I think the show would have been improved immeasurably by skipping the final episode.

[sepublic]

Gushing about the Overlord Dragon

           I’m really enjoying the Overlord Dragon set we’ve gotten from Lego; We’ve waited eight years for this (and still have yet to get a Mega Weapon, we almost got that in the Legacy Destiny’s Bounty before it was inexplicably and disappointingly removed!), but I think the wait has honestly been worth it!

           It just… captures the original look of the show’s depiction of the Overlord, while still translating it into a feasible Lego set; A very well-done reverse-engineering, where instead of translating a Lego creature into a CGI, organically-shaped model into the show, it was done the other way around… And yet, I could also believe it as having happened the usual way, with the set coming first, THEN the show’s depiction!

           If there was an issue I had with the original Overlord from the show, it’s that his design felt a little too organic, not greebled and detailed enough to indicate his adapted origins as a Lego set; But the set manages to perfectly capture his likeness while keeping the unique molded pieces to a minimum! The Overlord Dragon’s head design is particularly brilliant; I love its snaggle-toothed, almost crocodilian snout, faithfully retained from the Season 2 finale. I can imagine that iconic shot of the Overlord’s maw brimming with violet flames before he engulfs Lloyd with them, but with the Lego depiction instead. Similarly, the parts usage is clever; Instead of designing two new separate molds, for the upper and lower head respectively…

           The designers only designed one jaw piece; But the teeth placement are asymmetrical, so that when you put them together, they interlock perfectly! It’s like a bear trap- Or to use a more Lego comparison, how the Shadow Trap in Bionicle consists of two identical pieces that when placed opposite one another, clamp into place. Still, the mold used for the Overlord manages to convey the illusion that the upper and lower head are different, and indeed I didn’t realize this until I had the actual pieces in my hand building the set; Adding the eyes on just the upper jaw, while additional barbs on the lower jaw, helps to pull off the look. And of course, the Overlord’s relatively simplistic design from the show –compared to other dragons- means the designers can get away with having the upper and lower jaws molded identically. The dual-molding for the teeth and head is also superb.

           But one of my favorite parts is the color scheme; It’s the gorgeous black, gold, and violet of the Overlord’s Golden Master form from Season 3, with an additional dark-blue layered over that I think goes along very nicely! Of course, this does make me wonder what an Overlord Dragon would look like without the blue, and instead just the traditional colors… But regardless. I love how the Overlord Dragon takes obvious designs cues from the Golden Master, which seems to be Legacy’s go-to, evergreen depiction for the Overlord across media now. You can tell with how the purple orb and golden armor on his chest reflect the actual Golden Armor from Season 3, forged from the smelted Golden Weapons of Spinjitzu. The magenta lightning bolt is reminiscent of the Overlord’s torso and its wispy appearance as well, enshrined within a rib-cage.

           I love this kind of retroactive, retcon of continuity; It creates more visual cohesion across the Overlord’s designs now that Legacy is arguably providing more modern, definitive takes on old sets, possibly to reflect the changes to the timeline done by the Iron Doom at the end of Season 7. From a meta perspective, the Overlord Dragon is designed after the Golden Master; But from an in-universe, retconned look, it seems the Golden Master was derived from Overlord’s original, natural draconic form! It gives the impression that when he rebuilds and clumps together his essence in Rebooted so he can wear the Golden Armor, the Overlord has essentially downsized and compressed himself into a smaller, humanoid knock-off look of his former self. It’s wonderful, and just like the sets themselves, looks much more color and visually appealing than the in-show dragons (in my opinion).

           The usage of purple is great, the golden teeth are a wonderful accent to the Overlord’s face and maw- Having an Overlord minifigure included with the dragon helps to compare and sell the visual similarities and cohesion, how this dragon in the revised canon has been translated into a smaller, vaguely humanoid being. It really does feel like you’re looking at Maleficent, next to her dragon form; And the set is itself is decently sturdy and posable, with the tail swinging back and forth smoothly! I do wish that the arms were revamped to have more posability, as well as the Overlord’s head tendrils and whiskers. I imagine it’d be a pretty simple mod, but still. Overall, the Overlord Dragon set is a wonderfully gnarly, yet at the same time majestic and regal, adaptation of the show design, eight years in hiatus! It’s genuinely gorgeous and enjoyable to both look at and play with, and the building technique for his heels was incredibly clever and fun once my mind put it together both in realization of what was to come, and literally as well.

           The set really does feel like something that would’ve been released back in 2013, albeit with a few more modern pieces of course. Right down to some major color and detailing discrepancies, it fits just well with the classic, if somewhat minimal, 2013 “The Final Battle” line… And of course, the inclusion of an entirely new set in the Legacy line, adapting what was never built before, gives hope to old-time fans as well; Perhaps sets will be made of vehicles, structures, and/or beings, that have never received classic Lego depictions themselves! In particular, I’m hoping for the Preeminent having a proper set after all these years; That’s another similarity her and the Overlord had, before the latter got his set… And seeing the Preeminent briefly return in Season 11, even if for a single episode with little bearing on the overall plot, gives me hope! 

          I’d love to see the Preeminent redone but with 2015’s gorgeous colors and ghostly aesthetic, with the lime-green, dark-blue, gnarly black, and purple highlights! And if the Overlord Dragon set looks better than the actual show depiction, then here’s hoping we get a gorgeous Lego reimagining for the Preeminent- The Ghost Warriors are among my favorite villains in Ninjago, for their beautiful aesthetic, design, and concepts; With the Preeminent being particularly unique as a living dimension who never speaks but clearly thinks, akin to the Mind Flayer from Stranger Things (Or the other way around, as the Preeminent came first).

[sombreboy]

Love Maze »9

Previous  » Next Series Masterlist ▎ 18+ ▎ pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ▎ genre: School AU, crack humor, smut, angst, ETL, slow burn, fluff. ▎ word count: 4.9k ▎ ch.warnings: cursing, use of homophobic slurs (censored), fingering/handjob/masturbation in the shower, dom!kth, sub!jjk, Tae is a dumb in this series but what’s new I love him anyway

Co-writer: @velvetwicebang ♡♡♡

When the next morning rolled in, the elder wanted to chuck the alarm clock across the room.

He squinted his tired eyes, wiping off his drool with the back of his hand,

“It’s too early..” The boy groaned, falling back down to the bed, face puffy from sleep.

Not a single day has passed where Taehyung didn’t ask himself why practice had to start so goddamn early in the morning.

“Kook, a few more minutes..” Taehyung closed his eyes, strands of black hair standing up in every direction.

Jungkook was used to the early mornings, eyes fluttering open to the familiar sound. With a groan, he stretched his body, the sound of his joints popping satisfying to his ears.

"You weren't kidding about that snoring," he chuckled, reaching over the elder to silence the alarm before laying back down, wrapping his arm over the elder, "We do have to get up though..."

Jungkook took a few more minutes, contradicting his own words before deciding to withdraw himself to get out of the bed, "I'm gonna shower before we go-- then we can grab some breakfast after practice?" He groaned once more as he stretched his back, muscles flexing underneath his skin, "Wanna join?"

Taehyung’s lips parted in a loud yawn, body searching for Jungkook’s warmth so he could be given an excuse to stay in bed a little longer.

“Did my snoring wake you up?” The elder mumbled, face practically buried in the crown of Kook’s head, inhaling the sweet scent.

He wished there was no school today; Taehyung would love to be a lazy bum with Jungkook. After all, they needed to finish the anime. 

Tae was engrossed in the plot and beautiful animation, but.. something else had come up, and he was glad that it did. 

As it turns out, Kook and him shared a lot of commonalities. They weren’t necessarily good things, but it was because of that reason that Taehyung felt even closer to the boy.

“Kook.. why are you taking a shower if you’re just gonna get sweaty anyways?”

He sat himself up on the bed, rubbing at his eyes, “But.. yeah. I’ll join you.”

With that being said, Taehyung pushed the blanket to the side and forced himself up, meeting Jungkook by the doorway.

Maybe he’ll feel less like a zombie after a nice shower..

''Because it wakes me up,'' Jungkook beams, already way too cheerful and energetic compared to the elder. He really was the epitome of an annoying morning person.

Kook turned the shower on, steam slowly arising in the bathroom. He loved to shower in water that is so hot it could basically melt your skin off.... In theory.

With his back turned to the elder as he faces the shower, he strips out of his boxers before stepping inside, letting the hot water stream down his body, dark locks flattening against his skin.

Taehyung didn’t know how Jungkook did it… How in the hell can someone be so chirpy in the morning? Tae can only wish he was half as jolly, hence why he was standing under the hot shower looking like he was in the middle of re-evaluating all of his life choices.

The elder yawned once more, grabbing some soap and lathering it up all over his body until he was covered in foam, doing the same to Jungkook.

This felt so.. Domestic.

Tae’s hands smoothed down the younger’s chest and torso, stopping at his lower abdomen.

“You can wash up down there, hm?” He teased, patting Jungkook’s chest before allowing the stream of water to wash off the soap, watching it go down the drain.

Jungkook quirked an eyebrow, the heat of the water hiding the fact that he was indeed blushing from the close proximity of the elders' hands. 

They've done so much together, physically, and even were together-- But they've never ..really, slowly, softly explored each other's bodies in that manner.

Kook nodded, his hand gently washing himself clean, the slow movements around his shaft almost sensual. He pressed his lips together, embarrassed to the point where he turned his back towards Taehyung to finish cleaning up. It almost felt like he was touching himself in front of the elder, and the thought was both arousing and extremely flustering.

It was obvious that Taehyung’s comment made Jungkook embarrassingly shy, and that only served as fuel for the elder.

He’d already teased him, why not finish the job?

With a smirk on his lips and wet fringe falling down to his dark eyes, Taehyung closed the distance between their bodies. His broad chest was pressed up against Kook’s back, one of his veiny hands resting on the boy’s hip whilst the other was wrapped around his own cock.

Taehyung peeked over Jungkook’s shoulder, his smirk widening at the lustful sight.

“Are you shy, baby?”

Tae began to pump himself, breathing onto Kook’s nape, feeling the hot water stream down his body.

He purposely slapped his throbbing shaft on Jungkook’s ass a few times, only to jerk himself off more vigorously, brows knitted together as he grunted, “Fuck..” His hold on the younger’s hips tightened, moaning into the boy’s nape.

Jungkook exhaled a quiet moan, the steam radiating off his body from the hot shower being the perfect visual of how he's feeling at this moment. Cheeks still flushed, the heat flowed throughout his entire body when Taehyung grasped his hip. He put his one palm flat against the tile wall to serve as leverage, the other remained on his own cock. But instead of cleaning himself, he also indulged in the pleasures of stroking himself-- tortuously slow in contrast to the way his boyfriend was jerking himself off behind him. The aching in his length was an entire feeling of bliss in it's own, ''Ah....god...''

A series of grunts and groans slipped past Taehyung’s lips, “My hand’s getting tired, think you could finish it for me?” He soulfully whispered into the boy’s ear, kissing along his shoulders before turning him around, pressing Jungkook against the tile wall, “Come on, Kook. Don’t be shy..” Taehyung smiled, leaning in to kiss the younger on the lips, keeping it short ‘n sweet,“Be a good boy.”

Now this was sure to wake Tae up.

The younger's eyes were piercing as he gazed down at Taehyung's throbbing length, his mouth salivating at the sight. He really wondered what it tasted like...

However, he'd rather do that when there was less of a time strain, and less of a hot-shower session. He'd definitely want to take his time while indulging in that scenario.

Jungkook pressed his back against the tile wall, tilting his head slightly down to the side to get a good view of how his slender fingers wrap around the elders length, giving it a firm squeeze just to feel it properly in his grasp, making him almost moan himself at the mere feeling of it.

''I'll be good...'' Kook murmured, pumping Taehyung's girthy cock, the muscles in his arms flexing, veins prominent on his lower arm, as the other hand settled on Taehyung's hip, blunt nails carefully digging into his caramel skin.

“Ah.. yeah.” Taehyung threw his head back, bottom lip clasped in between his teeth as he gave himself up to the satisfaction, hips bucking up into Jungkook’s hand “Just like that, baby.”

The elder praised, watching himself twitch in Kook’s secure hold, his pretty mushroom tip adorned with pre-cum, “I wanna fuck your tight little ass so fucking bad.” Taehyung growled, knowing it was an impossible dream of his.

Time was precious, and practice was only a few minutes away.

Wanting to feel Jungkook as quick as possible, Tae grabbed the latter’s cock, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the head. The other hand snuck its way down the line of the younger’s back, traveling downwards until it stopped at his plump ass. He gave it a couple squeezes before slipping his middle finger into Jungkook’s hole, wiggling it around,

“We better make it quick, huh?”

The elder smirked, pumping Kook’s shaft in his hand, while the other was busy fingering him from behind. Taehyung wasn’t going to leave the restroom until he made Jungkook cum, that was a promise.

Jungkook's eyes fluttered at the sensation Taehyung was putting him through, his lips shamelessly parted to allow gasps and moans escape his throat, ''Fuck, yes...'' His breathy voice was shaky, pulling the elder closer to his body until their wet chests were tightly pressing together, leaving little space in between them, just enough to be able to keep jerking the other off properly.

''Harder, harder...'' Jungkook's eyes were tightly screwed shut, his breathing increasing as he put an effort into stroking Taehyung's cock with his strong hand, the muscles dancing underneath his forearm. Supposedly all the hours spent working out were proven useful in various ways. Kook's hips jolted every single time he felt his boyfriend's finger push inside of him, a gasp following.

Taehyung obeyed to the boy’s pleads, increasing the speed in which he jerked Jungkook off, hand gliding from the base to the tip, “Shit..!” He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, weakening from Kook’s rapid strokes on his needy cock.

His middle finger was covered in Jungkook’s juices, helping it slide in and out without much trouble, pushing it in knuckles deep,

“So good,” Taehyung moaned, basically fucking into the younger’s hand. 

He was feeling himself getting closer to the edge..

Tae pumped the other’s wet cock until his hand cramped, losing the rhythm it once had.

His long finger slammed in and out of Jungkook, reaching for the latter’s deepest places whilst he massaged his prostate, almost all of his knuckle stuffed in.

“A-ah, I’m gonna cum— fuck!”

Jungkook nodded rapidly, moaning out without shame at how fuckin good it felt,

“Me too, I’m gonna cum too—“ his voice broke into a whine, vigorously jerking Taehyung off as he throws his head forward, burying his face in Tae’s shoulder,

“Shit shit shit—!” He hissed through his teeth, a pathetic cry pushing through his lips as his body tensed up, clenching down on the elders finger as he came, hard in Taehyung's hand.

A series of curses broken into whines kept rolling off his lips, his hips stuttering as he slowly rutted into the elders grasp to milk himself completely dry off his cum, his own hand working his boyfriends cock to cum with him, giving it a firm squeeze as he does so.

Soon after, a fountain of cum shot out from Taehyung’s opening, splashing Jungkook’s lower abdomen with the thick substance.

So much for washing them off with soap..

“Fuck..” Tae panted, parting his sticky hand from Jungkook’s cock, allowing the hot water to clean it off. Afterwards, that’s when the elder unplugged his finger, studying the way it was covered with a thin layer of Kook’s juices.

Holding firm eye contact with the latter, Taehyung brought it up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the single digit. 

He sucked it clean, savoring how Jungkook tasted.

Once he was done, Tae got back under the shower, cleaning off his own shaft free of the cum.

“I’m awake now, thanks.” Taehyung smirked, looking up at Jungkook through his eyelashes.

Jungkook's eyes fluttered, in awe at the sight of Taehyung making a show out of sucking his finger clean. Fuck, that was hot.

Letting the elder wash off first, he steps into the hot water when the spot is free, cleaning himself up as well, eyes glancing over at Tae. While the elder might have woken up, kook felt drained. But only momentarily.

He said nothing, just let his eyes linger on his boyfriend, wet and with a shit eating grin on his face. He was absolutely gorgeous.

They really had to get going.

Sooner than Taehyung would’ve liked, they rushed out of Jungkook’s apartment, hair damped and skin not completely dry.

They got so caught up in the whole shower scene, that they failed to realize practice had already begun.

Tae could just hear Namjoon’s scolding.

“You’re late.” There stood the Captain, arms crossed over his chest as he stared both boys down, eyes suspiciously switching between each one of them.

Jungkook was never late, so this was a new occurrence. 

Something told Joon that it was all Taehyung’s doing, but he let it go.

“Look, I don’t know what you guys were doing, but don’t let it happen again. Alright?”

Namjoon tried to sound stern— serious, even. But Taehyung knew that didn’t come naturally.

Jungkook exchanged a quick look with Taehyung, both knowing it would probably, definitely happen again. And even if it didn't, the mischief in the younger's eyes was glowing.

''Sorry.'' Kook shrugged, straightening the collar of his jersey shirt before jogging towards the rest of the team, that luckily still were just doing the warm up laps around the practice hall.

He felt the eyes of his hyungs following his stature, and for sure he knew he was about to be asked questions when Jimin caught up to jog next to the younger,

''Hey Jungkook-ah,'' Jimin smiled, pushing away his fringe from his eyes, ''The two of you arriving late, at the same time? Hmmm?'' His curiosity was shamelessly out there, wiggling his eyebrows.

And he knew the curiosity wasn't only Jimin's, when even Yoongi attempted to catch up, 

''Did they fuck again?''

Jimin chopped his hand into Yoongi's neck, causing the latter to fall behind in the line, ''Hey, you need to think before you ask things so bluntly.... But, he's right though, did you???''

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows at the question, whipping his neck to look away, his jog turning into a run instead. He didn't want to discuss his sex life with his hyungs this often!

After muttering a rather unapologetic apology, Taehyung sheepishly followed after Jungkook, about to start jogging next to him when Haechan pulled him over to their group of ‘friends’.

“Dude, Tae. Where have you been?” The other male playfully interrogated, having one arm wrapped around Taehyung’s shoulders, preventing him from fleeing from his grasp.

“Yeah, why did you and that Jungkook guy get here together?”

Last Taehyung knew, it wasn’t any of their goddamn business.

But, he had to keep his cool.

“Uh, I just had to give him a ride. That’s all.”

Tae shrugged away from Haechan’s hold, crossing his arms over his shoulders,

“He takes fuckin’ forever to get ready. But, it’s charity work, so whatever.” Taehyung spared a glance over at Jungkook, putting the blame on his boyfriend so the rest of the guys would have an easier time believing him.

A pang of guilt slowly accumulated in his chest, but Taehyung brushed it away.

“Okay, don’t care.” Haechan blew the previous conversation off, now looking at Tae once again.

“You know that chick from the party?”

He cocked a brow, there were a lot of chicks from the party. 

“Think about it. Blue eyes, fat ass, foreign..”

And so Taehyung thought about it, but he didn’t need to think hard.

“Mila?” He voiced out, tone laced with uncertainty. Tae hoped he was wrong, his last interaction with the woman was enough of a headache.

“Yeah! Ah, that’s her name?” Haechan snorted, looking over his shoulder to his group of friends so they could share his amusement.

“Never knew that. Anyways, she’s here. We saw her this morning, apparently she’s a new student or some shit.”

Fuck.

“Oh, cool.”

No, it definitely wasn’t cool. In fact, it was the opposite of cool.

“Just cool?” His friend scoffed, shocked by Taehyung’s lack of interest. 

“You guys were basically eye fucking each other at the party.”

The longer this conversation went on, the more bored Taehyung became.

“Yeah, I mean.. she’s cute.” He shrugged, running a hand through his damp hair.

Kai, one of Haechan’s friends, had to chuckle.

“What? You hang out with the school’s f*ggot and you suddenly become one? Taehyung, did you catch the f*ggot disease?”

Taehyung’s eyes turned darker in color, jaw clenching down.

He swiftly spun around on his feet, coming face to face with Kai, veins popping from his neck.

“What the fuck did you just say?!” Taehyung’s deep voice rang throughout the gym. 

“Call Jungkook a f*ggot again and I’ll beat the shit out of you!”

Tae breathed out heavily through his nose, chest heaving with every sharp inhale of breath he took.

Then, like he was in some sort of trance, Taehyung slowly broke out of it.

He blinked one, twice— four times before he took a couple of steps back, feeling Namjoon’s protective hold on his wrist.

“Dude, what the hell’s your problem..?”

Taehyung didn’t answer, harshly pulling away from Joon’s hold before fixing his collar, hands still balled up into fists.

Shit.. what did he do?

Jungkook's head turned towards the group when he heard the familiar deep voice echo in the large practice room, eyes landing on the group of guys gathered together, Taehyung standing tall and looking very tensed up, with the captain closeby.

What was going on? The elder sounded upset, but he couldn't quite hear what was said.

Kook finished his warm up, heading towards the benches to grab his water bottle and take a short break, running a hand through his sweaty locks. His gaze searched for his boyfriend automatically, trying to meet his eyes. He wanted him to come over, hoping that Tae would take his constant glances as a hint.

As per usual, the rest of his hyungs plop down on the bench around him, not thinking much of it as they chatter about everything and nothing, their voices turning into a blur in Jungkook's ears. All he wanted was for Tae to join them.

Namjoon sighed softly, his heartbeat higher as he could tell that Taehyung was riled up about something, ''Whatever the problem is, this isn't the place. Come on, we gotta wrap this up.'' As in this, he meant the practice-- there wasn't much time left, and with the little time left, he wanted to actually get something done. Why did he always end up like some kind of constant peacemaker between Taehyung and others.

Taehyung should’ve kept his stupid mouth shut, but he understood his intentions well enough to know that just wasn’t going to happen.

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t stand up for Jungkook?

Yeah, a very shitty one. Taehyung might not be the best boyfriend in the world, but he was trying to be a damn good one.

However, no one else knew that they were together..

His sudden outburst was out of the blue. Tae just prayed that they didn’t think any further into it.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of being with Kook, it was just.. he wasn’t ready for people. He didn’t want to deal with their take on it, positive or negative.

It was already nerve wracking enough that their close friends knew. Or, well, at least suspected something was going on.

If it was up to Taehyung, he would only break the news to them, no one else. But that wouldn’t be fair to Jungkook..

When the clock finally signaled that practice was over, Tae was one of the first ones to get out of there. He was still angry, that hateful word didn’t sit right with him, especially if it was associated with Jungkook.

“Jungkookie, what’s wrong with Tae?” Hoseok asked, not failing to notice the boy’s sudden shift in mood. He figured that Jungkook would know better than anyone.

Meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Maybe some breakfast with Kook would help ease his nerves. 

He was starving.

Jungkook followed Taehyung's frame with his eyes until he was out of sight, brows drawn together in confusion, “I don’t know.” He shrugged, grabbing his bottle with him as he headed towards the locker room, following the elder like a puppy.

Hoseok purses his lips, watching both men disappear before mimicking kooks shrug. Weird.

Jungkook headed down, walking up to Taehyung as soon as he saw him. Luckily, they were the only ones there so far— however it wouldn’t be for long.

“Hey,” kook reached out to place his palm on his boyfriend's shoulder, craning his neck to get a proper look at his face, “You okay? You seemed tense today.”

He hoped it wasn’t him. Did he do something?

The elder’s head whipped around at the sudden touch on his shoulder, harsh eyes immediately softening upon realizing that it was only Jungkook.

Taehyung really needed to calm the fuck down, even he was aware of that.

“What? Oh, no. I’m fine.” He lied, forcing on a tight lipped smile to hopefully sell the part, turning his back to Jungkook to change out of his sweaty clothes.

“Wanna eat breakfast with me after this? I’m really hungry.”

Tae knew that if you showed up early enough, breakfast was served in the lunchroom.

He’d never gotten breakfast, until now.

Why not take advantage of this and spend some time with his boyfriend? Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to fulfill his stomach’s needs.

The elder was keeping a close eye on Haechan and the rest of the guys after the locker room began to fill up, subconsciously glaring straight at Kai while distancing himself from Kook at the same time.

Jungkook didn't get to answer, interrupted by the loud men filling up the room, chattering about things the younger started to subconsciously block out-- all he could think of was how he noticed that Taehyung extended the space between the two of them as soon as the others arrived.

He would lie if he said it didn't feel a little weird…

But then again, a part of him justified the elders actions. Nobody really knew they were together, except, well-- the closer hyungs. And even that was a lot.

However he hoped that like any other, he'd proudly answer honestly if the question was even laid on the table. 

Kook changed, this time keeping his ears slightly more alert as he listened to the boys rambling.

As soon as Taehyung stepped out of that musty, unventilated locker room, it did wonders for his mind. It was almost as if it had unclogged his ears, no longer hearing that word.

Tae wasn’t caught up in what Haechan or the others had to say, or so he thought.

Without the presence of those guys, he was able to relax next to Jungkook and eat his breakfast in peace.

Taehyung munched on his toast, listening to his hyungs gossip about the latest drama as he dumped the marshmallows from his Lucky Charms onto his boyfriend’s tray.

He didn’t like them; he found them to be too sweet.

“So.. Taehyung, Jungkook.”

Tae’s chewing came to a halt, knowing where exactly the conversation was heading.

“Why were you guys late this morning?”

Yoongi chuckled, “Why else, Joon? They were having some adult fun.”

Then it was Jin’s turn to butt in, “I just hope you guys are being safe.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, proceeding to pick out the small marshmallows from his cereal.

“We’re not kids, hyung. We know.”

He really didn’t feel like talking about their sex life in front of them, but that’s what he gets for befriending some of these people..

Jungkook's lips pulled up in a small, subtle smile at the gesture, he loved sweet things. He easily shoved a mouthful of the marshmallows into his mouth, cheeks puffy as he chewed the sticky chunk of pure sugar, eyes flickering between his hyungs at the blunt comments. He almost choked on his sweets, swallowing them quickly as a heat of embarrassment reached his cheeks. He could really never get used to talking about this topic with his teammates.

Luckily, Taehyung was pretty good at speaking for them. He nodded in agreement, humming as he occupied his mouth with the small milk carton to wash down his breakfast.

''Curious, though...'' Jimin chimed in, always ready to dig for more information as he pointed his spoon between the two boys, ''Are you two... dating?''

Jungkook's eyes widened a bit, quickly glancing over at Taehyung, not sure what to say. He wanted to be honest with them, but the consideration of what the elder wanted to share was also a big factor. Would Taehyung openly share this with their hyungs?

Like a domino effect, Tae’s eyes widened as well.

Shit.. breakfast wasn’t over until another ten minutes. There was no way he could stall them for that long. For one, Taehyung couldn’t lie. They were dating, what would Jungkook think if he denied it?

Secondly, if he were to admit it, he’d be afraid that the questions would evolve from the straightforward, annoying sex questions to the annoying cooing, lovey dovey comments.

Honestly, Tae didn’t know which was worse.

“Uhm..” 

Hoseok raised a brow, already grinning from one ear to the other. “Well?”

Taehyung inhaled a deep breath, “Look, we—“

“Taehyung?”

Ah fuck. He’d much rather answer the question than have to meet Mila’s blue eyes.

“Oh, uh, hey..” Taehyung weakly greeted back, partly thankful and partly horrified.

“I’ve missed you. I didn’t know you went to the same school!”

The woman sat down next to Taehyung, welcoming herself into their conversation without a second thought. Tae and her were about to have sex, surely he had to like her.

Meanwhile, Taehyung was looking over at Jungkook with a stare that was the epitome of ‘S.O.S.’

“What class is next? In your schedule, I mean.”

Mila scooted closer to the boy, placing one hand on his thigh.

At this point, everyone in the table was tense. Who was this foreign woman and what was up with her infatuation for Taehyung? 

“Literacy.” Tae squeaked out, shifting his legs.

Please don’t let them have the same— “Me too!”

He was fucked.

Jungkook froze in place when he heard, and then saw, the familiar female slumping down on the other side of his boyfriend. Sitting way too close for his own liking.

The quick glance from Taehyung was a pleading one, giving Kook at least the reassurance of 'I did not expect nor do I want this.'

But, that doesn't mean Kook could control his jealousy, he was way too sensitive not to. And worst of all, he didn't know /what/ to do about this. Lunch was still for another ten minutes.

And now she has the same classes too?

Jungkook's eyes were subtly glued to the way Mila's hand settled on Taehyung's tense thigh, his tongue angrily prodding at the inside of his cheek. He needed to get them out of there, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get out of this without being obvious.

Why couldn't Tae just.... disregard of her? He's surely done it with countless women before. 

Wherever Mila went, so did an army of horny teenage boys.

Of course Haechan and Kai were the ones up front, flashing Taehyung a knowing smirk when they saw how obviously smitten she was for him.

Tae was living the life a lot of guys wished they had, and he didn’t even seem to know it.

He was uninterested, but.. after what happened during practice, Taehyung felt the unclear need to redeem himself— his ego.

“Tae, watch it man. You’re gettin’ a boner over here!” One of the guys jokes, making the boy’s patience all the more frail.

He wanted to get the hell out of there.

“Ignore them, Tae.” Mila sighed, shamelessly snaking her hand closer to Taehyung’s crotch.

“Want to walk me to class?”

The elder didn’t push her hand away, too frozen in place to do anything about it.

“Ooh, Tae. Come on, walk the poor girl to class.”

What the fuck were those guys doing here? They were like the devil on one of his shoulders, urging him to commit things he would later on regret.

Taehyung’s tongue swiped over his lips, “Fine.”

Fuck, he felt guilty. He felt angry with himself. But even so, Tae was too much of a coward to actually do something about it.

The elder didn’t want anyone to think he’s gay.

Walking Mila over to their class was harmful, he just hoped Jungkook would understand.

With one last apologetic glance at his boyfriend, Taehyung picked up his tray and followed behind a giggly Mila, shame eating up at him.

“What the hell just happened..” Yoongi mumbled, mouth agape.

Jungkook dead eye stared holes into Taehyung's back as he watched him leave with Mila, his appetite no longer existent.

Indeed, what the hell did just happen?

''Hey, Kook, it's okay--'' Namjoon tried, sitting down next to the younger, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, that was quickly shrugged off when the younger squirmed away from the touch. 

''I'm fine!'' He shrugged, but the way his words hissed through his teeth proved otherwise, ''I'm gonna go.''

He didn't want to talk about it, he didn't even want to think about it

Well, if he did, it had to be with the very Kim Taehyung himself.

First, he had to endure another fucking class.

The elder boys watched Jungkook throw his tray down the trash as he headed out of the dining hall, backpack tightly strapped against his shoulder. His jaw was clenched, eyes sharpened-- but his chest was tight. 

He took a moment to breathe, slowly making his way to class, whispering to himself, 

''It's fine. It's okay...He wouldn't.''

He wouldn't do anything wrong. He chose to trust Taehyung.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.