#i'm sorry this is so long though 😭😭😭

[crowhyun]

gym rat taehyun who you end us seeing frequently at the gym whenever you’re around too and he starts helping you out on some of the stuff and sexual tension and then BAM, sex

a/n: I haven't written smut in so long so please bare with me 😭 I'm trying to get back into the groove of it but I've kinda lost confidence though I hope that doesn't show in my works lol. I hope you enjoy this, anon, and thank you for requesting!!

Warnings: smut, pnv, exhibitionism, unprotected sex but hyun's pull out game is top tier, I would know

WC: 1.8k

The gym a few blocks away from your apartment was always too crowded for your taste. Midday was the worst, with every piece of equipment occupied, and the ones that weren't were a sweaty mess due to peoples' lack of politeness.

Though, around 10PM was always the best time to go. It was much less crowded, and it was almost calming, in a way.

You, along with a few other late night gym rats, took this time to your advantage. The gym was nearly empty, and hip-hop music played quietly from the speakers. The sound of equipment moving and barbells clanking was miniscule compared to how it usually was.

Though, you'd be lying to yourself if you said that that was the only reason you came to the gym at that time.

Your other reason - your main reason - was currently at the pull-up bar, biceps bulging and sweat dripping down his clear skin as he effortlessly hoisted himself up on the bar. You were quite familiar with this man, or at least as familiar as you could get from afar. Without fail, he'd always be at the gym at this time, always alone, and ever so efficient in his workouts.

You tried not to stare as you leisurely stretched. You weren't in the mood for heavy lifting or cardio, yet you were fully intent on boy watching.

After what seemed like over a dozen pull-ups, the man hopped down from the bar, turning around with a hand on his hip to grab his towel, and you quickly looked away to not get caught ogling. To look busy, you continued with your stretching, doing basic stretches to pass the time. You were so distracted trying to look busy that you hadn't even noticed a certain someone approaching until you heard his voice.

"Your form isn't good." He said, causing you to flinch and sir upright, staring right at the man who was sipping from his water bottle.

Is he talking to me?, you thought. Though, he was obvious who he was talking to, due to his large brown eyes seemingly piercing into your soul. "...huh?" Was all that you could muster out.

"Sorry." He apologized, screwing his water bottle shut. "I don't mean to bother you, but I just thought that I should tell you that your form isn't very good. You might hurt yourself."

Your lips went into an O-shape as you realized what he was saying, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You fully expected him to just walk away after that, but he spoke once more.

"I can help with some stretches if you'd like." He said. "I'm no personal trainer, but I know a thing or two."

"Oh...you'd do that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you inwardly fangirled, knowing that this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to the man you've been crushing on.

"Yeah, of course." He nodded, placing his water bottle down and coming closer, your heart beating a mile a minute. He gave you a sweet smile before he bent down to your level, and you got a close up look at his sweaty skin and well built arms, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

"See, when you're doing lunge stretches, you have to make sure your back is flat and your core is engaged so that you can keep your balance." He said, his voice soft, though the near emptiness of the gym made it seem as if he were loud and clear. He got into position beside you, showing off the proper way to stretch, and you followed suit.

Throught the stretches, you had learned that his name was Taehyun, and he was pretty flexible himself. You may have even purposefully made yourself seem incompetent in your stretches so that he wouldn't leave anytime soon. It was getting later and later, but you didn't want to go home - not yet.

"Hamstring stretches are a bit harder, as most people don't stretch for long enough." He informed you, gently pushing you onto your back. "How flexible are you?" He asked, helping you to hike your leg up. You were hyper aware of the feeling of his strong hands on you, and the change of position nearly made you dizzy.

"Uh, maybe moderately?" You spoke, clearing your throat in an effort to sound like your panties weren't starting to get damp.

"Moderately?" He chuckled with a slight tilt to his head. "We'll see about that then, yeah? Just tell me when it's too much." He said, his hand circling around your calf as he started to slowly push your leg up...up...and up.

You winced a bit, the stretch starting to get painful, but you were too distracted by how he placed his other hand right on your thigh.

"There you go." He encouraged, your leg straight up and pushed against his shoulder as he kneeled down in front of you. "How're you feeling? Think you can go a bit more?"

"I can definitely feel the stretch." You chuckled, your heartrate beating a mile a minute. "I think I can go further, though."

With that, he started to slowly push your leg up once more, your thigh almost touching your chest. "Hmm, you're pretty flexible, aren't you?" He spoke, and you don't know if it's the rising desire within you or not, but his voice was starting to sound more...intimate.

"I didn't...I didn't realize before now." You said, finding it hard to breathe.

"Good thing you have me here then, huh?" He smirked, the sight making your walls clench around nothing. He then started to slowly lower your leg before doing the same to the other one. Your breath hitched at the stretch, and you winced.

"Fuck..." You whispered, unable to keep it in.

"Just a bit more, you got it." He said, his whisper matching yours as he stretched you further. His torso pressed against your leg, and you couldn't help yourself from taking a peek down between your legs. Truthfully, you just wanted to make sure you didn't completely soak through your leggings, but instead, you got a glimpse of what Taehyun was packing. The dim light of the gym reflected on the bulge in his gym shorts, and you literally felt your heart beat in your clit.

You quickly looked back up, eyes slightly widening, just to see that he was making eye contact with you. There was a certain gleam in his eyes that told you that he knew exactly what you were looking at.

If that didn't tell you enough, then his next actions did.

Stretching your leg so that your thigh met your chest, he positioned himself so that he was pressing up against you, and your breath hitched once you felt his bulge directly press against your clothed heat.

Shit...he's so close.

"There you go..." He said, his voice dangerously lustful. "Now you're all stretched out for me."

You weren't exactly sure when the switch flipped, and at this point, you didn't care if you were soaking through your leggings or not. You weren't crazy, his voice definitely held some underlying tension there, and neither of you could hide from it.

"Now that you're all stretched out, you can work out safely, no matter how hard."

Next thing you know, your leggings were hanging off of one leg, and your panties were pushed to the side to accommodate for how Taehyun's girth was stretching you out in a completely different way.

Sweat dripped down the strands of his wet hair, and your leg was hiked up on his shoulder, ensuring that you had no way to hide from just how deliciously he was rocking his hips into yours.

It was a caconaphy of hushed moans, grunts and whimpers, the sounds of your bodies colliding. You but your lip harshly to try and silence yourself even though you were pretty sure the gym was empty at this time. Taehyun's cock ruthlessly massaged your g-spot with each thrust, and he groaned in ecstacy as your nails dug into his arms in order to brace yourself.

"Ah- ah- ah-" Staccato moans left your lips as your body jerked each time his tip slammed against that spot within you, his pelvis hitting your clit over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned, his brows furrowed in concentration, solely focused on fucking you dumb on his cock.

A loud keen ripped from your throat as he slightly adjusted his positioning, his cock hitting so deep inside your fluttering walls. Your hips bucked up and your other leg lifted, the urge to close your legs and run away from the numbing pleasure growing greater.

"Nuh-uh." Taehyun tsked, shaking his head as he roughly spread your legs, his cock pushing deeper inside of you. "C'mon, you can take it. Take this cock." He grunted, gifting you with a particularly harsh thrust that had you reeling.

Your head fell back on the mat underneath you and your thighs shook. You could feel his cock throb inside of you, his low grunts only driving you closer to the edge. You then gasped loudly, your jaw dropping and your body tensing.

"C-cumming, I'm cum-" You stammered out, only to cut yourself off with a high pitched moan that would've been impossible for you to keep in. Your pussy walls clamped around Taehyun's thick shaft like a vice, and he felt like he was seconds away from absolutely losing it at the way your fucked out face contorted into barely concealed pleasure as you creamed all around his cock.

He wrapped his hands around your wrists, holding you down as he pumped faster, his balls tightening as he saw completion on the horizon. "Mmmh, that's it...cum on my cock just like- hah- that." He groaned, his jaw clenching as his blunt nails dug into your wrists, and before he knew it, he couldn't take anymore.

He was quick to pull out of your tight heat, which was almost painful, but that no longer mattered to him, because his hot, thick cum was spurting out of his glistening cock and onto your stomach. The hottest whine left his throat as he came down from his high, his chest heaving up and down, and his eyes darting down to your fucked out form.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed, the only sound being the low volume of the music playing through the gym speakers and the sound of the both of you catching your breaths.

"Well, uhm..." He suddenly spoke, clearing his throat. You noticed that he was avoiding eye contact, and the tips of his ears were tinted red.

Was he...embarrassed?

You fought the urge to laugh as he continued.

"If you just, uh...do those stretches before every workout, you should be good to go." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Thanks..." You spoke, your voice a bit hoarse. "For helping me stretch...and for the little present you gave me." You said, referring to his seed that was splattered across your stomach, seeping down to your belly button.

His eyes widened and he choked, almost as if he forgot that he had came on you.

"I'll...deal with that."

[thetepes]

Not to play devils advocate, but I feel like lilys opinion on the usage of the n word is valid. Regardless of someone’s race, I think it’s a little backwards to dictate what someone has to say about another races cultures just because they’re white (or not of that culture), differing opinions aren’t the end of the world and hers wasn’t inherently racist I fear the same goes for the anime thing too, I’m sorry but Japan DOES have of a loli problem, even if her wording was extreme

I’m not white myself (to be fair, not black/japanese either), not that I think it matters to what I can and can’t say about this but I don’t want you to assume I am white because I somewhat defended lily, which is someone I did NOT want to run defense to but maybe I’m too conservative for this space but I mean this in the most respectful way possible, it feels like some of you are reaching on some things just to paint her in a worse light, as if she wasn’t already famously bad 😭

(Feel free to correct me, I’m not trying to be intentionally ignorant for the sake of it I’m just tired of hearing of a lot of echo chambers about the issue without getting to WHY what she says is racist when I think like pretty reasonable??)

Anon, my friend, I do not know how to break this to you, but that is racist. I know you do not mean to be. I know you're trying your best to be as inoffensive as possible. I'm going to do my very best to answer you genuinely because you seem genuine.

Saying Japan has a Loli problem is like saying America has a child pageant problem. It's there. It's a problem, but it's not something floating on the surface everyone in Japan is aware of the magnitude of. It's a niche genre of ero fiction that comes up about as much to your every day Japanese person as child pageants in America.

In the 80's there was this loli boom that took place where it split off from your more typical bishōjo into lolicon. You would find stuff like Future Boy under that genre long before you'd find any ero.

It wasn't until an otaku named Tsutomu Miyazaki was arrested in the late 80s that the darker side of loli came to the awareness of your every day Japanese person. It was a popular genre so there was a LOT of hentai of it. He killed and murdered several little girls between the ages of I think 3 to 6 and it started a panic very similar to the Satanic Panic that happened in USAmerica. He had a massive collection of anime and hentai. I mean massive. From normal things you'd see in Walmart to stuff you could only buy from very specific websites online no normal person would even know about. It wasn't just Loli that was effected though it was all anime.

It's why Otaku culture was so repressed and shameful for a long time and it even killed the Loli boom because the style was associated with the killings. It wasn't until very recently that Otaku culture made a come back, but still Loli isn't making that come back because of the online opinion on Lolicon. It's gone from an art style to something a lot darker and I think that's where the communication sort of faulters? Because if you say to a Japanese person "you have a loli problem" they're going to think you're having a Satanic Panic moment at them.

At least that's been my experience.

This whole thing is why there was the Moe boom in the 2000's, it was an over correction on the part of artists. Trying desperately to get away from that label and people taking advantage of that as well to make slop.

The rise of the Lolita in Harajuku also muddied the water on this because there's an entire beautiful subculture there that branches into a thousand different expressions. "You have a loli problem!" What's the problem with girls in frilly dresses?

You as someone online, who is adept at being online, in critical spaces and animation/anime spaces have so much more exposure to this stuff than anyone on the daily in Japan.

The entire world has a porn problem. The entire world has a sexualizing little girls problem. To point at Japan and specifically repeatedly deem the entire country as having an issue with pedophilia is racist. To go out of your way to bring it up when you're not even discussing anime or Japan is racist. When your hate and ignorance for a place and it's people bleeds into everything you do

That is racism.

[saddled-on-stars]

Hey! So for some reason your ask was deleted somehow?? It disappeared from my drafts?! But anyways, here you go lovely <3 @habitabel asked: please write Keatlejuice gifting reader stuffed animals please 🙏 and then listening to reader ramble on about the names, backstories, and how they got the stuffed animals they already have ty 🫶 I’m sorry that this one took me so long!! I hope you enjoy it!!

Happy reading! - Star ★

-★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Trigger Warnings: Explicit Language, Suggestive Themes -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Key: ★ (Y/N) = Your Name ★ (L/N) = Last Name -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Requested by: @habitabel (THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME, I'm sorry that this took so long 😭🙏) -★-★-★-★-★-★-★-

- ★ - Stuffing Stories - ★ -

It’s 3AM, and the only sounds in the room are of your own groaning, and the pillows shuffling along your bed. You can’t sleep due to the constant negative thoughts running through your brain, at a million miles a minute.

The day was going great—work was it’s typical busy, but you don’t mind, and you even had a lighthearted chat with your coworker about your shared love for old sitcoms. But then came the side-eyed comment about your ‘Unwilling Service’ from someone who didn’t even know you, and how much it got into your head. You were just trying to answer their question, which was unbelievably bizarre. They asked something about how to get to the park that was thirty minutes away. Hell, you didn’t even know the place existed, and you didn’t work for a directory station.

You are already practically on edge as you walk through your apartment door. Dinner is an afterthought, the thought of eating even something small, sounding like too much of a task. And though you try distracting yourself with a movie, The Exorcist, obviously, the restless energy refuses to fade.

It isn't just today, though. Sleep had been a problem for weeks, a relentless cycle of tossing and turning that left you staring at the ceiling, wondering why you just couldn’t sleep. Tonight is no different. The clock ticked past midnight, then 1AM, now 2AM, each passing minute a reminder that tomorrow would be another day of exhaustion.

Your chest grows tight, your breathing shallower than you’ve experienced, in a LONG time for that matter. The usual distraction techniques aren’t working. Counting sheep, breathing exercises, even scrolling through your phone—all useless.

You pull the covers over your head, but the heaviness of the day’s events looms large. That offhand comment from earlier—’unwilling service…’ Did they mean lazy? Disinterested? Were they secretly annoyed with you? Did everyone at work feel that way? Was it the same with your friends?

The spiraling thoughts claw their way deeper. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms. You hadn’t meant to start tossing and turning, the pillows shuffling deeper.

"Fuck, what is wrong with me?" you mutter under your breath.

With a shaky breath, you sat up, rubbing your eyes. The weight in your chest hadn’t gone away, but you knew someone who’d make it bearable.

"Beetlejuice," you whispered, voice cracking. "Beetlejuice... Beetlejuice."

The flash of green and black in the corner of the room becomes bright with flair, causing his entrance to be as grand as ever. "It's showtime-”, he begins, but the second he takes one look at you, his demeanor shifts.

“Whoa, whoa. Babes? Fuckin’ hell, you okay?” he says, eyebrows furrowing as he notices your trembling hands and red-puffed eyes, shaking his head as he curses himself for not being there sooner. He’s by your side in an instant, sittiing on the bed with a mix of concern and determination.

“C’mere,” he mutters, pulling you close. His arms wrapped tightly around you, his striped blazer soft against your cheek. “Talk to me, Babes. What’s going on?”

You want to answer, but the lump in your throat won’t let you. Instead, you bury your face into his shoulder, your breaths uneven.

Beej doesn’t press. He doesn’t ask questions. He just shifts back against the headboard, tucking you against his chest, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it by yourself, okay? I’m here.”

The familiar rasp in his voice, usually cocky and teasing, was softer now, filled with a warmth you didn’t know you needed.

As you start to calm down, the sound of his voice keeps you grounded. “You know what you need, Babes?” he said, pulling back slightly to look at you with a small grin. “Some quality cuddle therapy... and maybe a new friend. One sec.”

Before you could protest, he vanishes with a poof, leaving you in a sense of longing, wondering where he’s gone. Only for him to reappear quickly, holding something behind his back.

“Ta-da!” He reveals a small stuffed bat with button eyes and a goofy grin. It’s actually quite cute, and it’s got a lot of character, it seems. He chuckles, and holds up the little creature, “Meet, uh... Flappy. Thought you might like him.”

The absurdity, yet adoration, of the name makes you laugh, a weak but genuine sound that seems to lift the tension in the room.

“Flappy, huh?” you say, gently taking the plushie in your hands. “What’s he doing here?”

“Oh, you know. He’s a night owl. Bit of a chatterbox. Thinks you’re the coolest guy around.”, Beej says with a large grin.

You smile, turning the toy over in your hands. “Guess he can join the others.”

Beej’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wait, you’ve got others? Babes, you’ve been holding out on me.”

And just like that, the weight in your chest eases, feeling the utter excitement of getting to share your wholesome obsessions over your stuffed animals, each one having a characterized personality of its own. You find yourself rambling about your collection—each stuffed animal, its backstory, how you’d gotten it.

Beej listens intently, actually seeming interested in what you have to say, throwing in the occasional quip, but mostly just letting you talk.

“And this one’s name is Gemini! My friend named her, since it’s her zodiac sign, but she’s a little fruit bat, who was an orphan from the time she was a baby! She got adopted by a bunch of normal bats, who accepted her into her family, and when she grew up, she went to explore the world!”, you exclaim happily to Beej.

Beej nods with excitement, “Woah, Babes! I had no idea how much you knew about these little guys.”, he says with a joking tone and a wink.

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, as you blush. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bore you with these little guy-”, but you’re quickly cut off.

Beej’s lips are softly pressed against yours, his eyes closed, as your eyes flutter to do the same. You wonder what made him want to do this, but you’re too shocked to care.

He pulls back slightly to look in your eyes, chuckling softly. “Do not EVER apologize for that, Babes. I think hearing about them is very sweet to hear from you. And besides, what kind of demon would love you if they didn’t hear about your little stories?”, he asks with a smile.

Your face is surely entirely red now. What did he say?

“W-What did you just say?”, you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

His black-circled eyes soften as he gazes at yours, “I love you.”, he says in a whispered tone, his gaze flickering to your lips.

Your gaze follows to his own lips, as you softly whisper back, “I love you too.”. You lean closer slowly, closing the space once again.

Out of all the backstories that you’ve shared tonight, this one will always be your favorite.

- ★ - Written By Saddled_On_Stars - ★ -

[kisskissbanggang]

Trick or Treat! Going to a party on Halloween with Hyunjin, maybe a little smutty, semi public? An idea ya know :) 🧡

(a super duper overdue)

TRICK OR TREAT

((OH MY GOD I'm so so late posting this but I loved this prompt so much that I couldn't not 😭🧡 sorry it's a little long but I adore it so much omg, he's so much fun to write for 🥰 I hope you enjoy!!))

[Hyunjin x F!Reader - NSFW/Smut - Public, Semi-Public, Teasing, FWB, Inappropriate Touching, Dry Sex, Ill-Advised Lap Sitting, Stuck Sex, First Kisses, Idiots in Love, Catching Feelings, House Parties, Mistaken Identities, Masks]

This was your date, right? It'd be really awkward to be sitting on someone's lap and have it not be your date. You scanned the party, hoping to catch sight of Hyunjin, because if anyone could subtly help you out in this awkward situation, it'd be him. Hyunjin was one of your closest friends... Even if things were a little weird between you lately.

It wasn't even like you'd fooled around. Not really. The first time you'd ever done anything together, it had been a total accident, you swear. You were on a double date with Hyunjin and running late to a movie. In the darkness, it was hard to tell exactly how everyone had stumbled into their seats. It was reckless, yeah, and maybe a bit inappropriate, but you loved how your date held your hand so forwardly. Poor excuse for your next move, but you had decided to be bold yourself and trace your fingers along the inner seam of his jeans, teasing him throughout the entire movie. It wasn't until afterwards when your date asked if you were upset with him that you realized anything was wrong. When you asked him why he wanted to know, you were mortified when he told you that you hadn't held his hand during the movie at all. Unsurprisingly, neither of you had a second date after that.

Somehow, the next time you did anything with Hyunjin was worse. Like, much worse. You and Hyunjin already weren't talking about the double date fiasco, and this was only going to make that fact funnier. On a late summer night, you got a text from Hyunjin, pleading you to come over and help him. You had dropped what you were doing and rushed over to his place.

"What's wrong?" you'd worriedly asked once you arrived.

"It's my ex! I told her she can't come over because I have a girl over."

"... And that won't stop her?"

Hyunjin had sighed into his hands. "I never changed my keypad combo. I need you to answer the door when she comes."

"Hyunjin... she's met me."

Your friend had kicked his couch in exasperation, the piece of furniture squeaking in protest, and understandably stubbed his toe in the process. However, Hyunjin stopped cursing over his toe and looked at the couch, processing an idea.

"Get in the bedroom," he'd ushered you.

"What?!"

"You don't have to actually do anything! Just, if she lets herself in and hears us pretending to hook up, she'll have to leave."

There was no excuse for this, but at the time it had sounded stupid enough to work. You and Hyunjin sat on his bed with the door to his room closed.

"You're not allowed to kiss me," you'd mandated.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose at you. "I didn't realize that'd be a concern of yours."

You both waited awkwardly until there was a soft knock at the front door, at which time you and Hyunjin immediately set about your ridiculous plan. On his knees so he could make the bed squeak as loudly as possible, Hyunjin admittedly looked a little hot while he rocked into the bed and pretended to moan. You must've looked equally hilarious, though, sitting cross-legged on the bed and boredly moaning as well. This was even sort of fun, until the front door opened. Even though this was precisely why Hyunjin took the plan this far, it still terrified you that his possessive ex could be this forthright. You and Hyunjin had exchanged horrified glances and pretended to moan even louder, rocking his bed into the wall.

And then it got worse. Hyunjin's ex had cursed, whining that he was only pretending to have a girl over. Even though he was, neither of you wanted to know what the consequences of her finding that out would be. Thinking fast, you'd lifted your dress around your hips and pulled Hyunjin between your legs, now plainly simulating dry sex in Hyunjin's bed. You'd buried your face in his neck, trying to hide your identity, when Hyunjin's ex swung open the door. She'd shrieked and shielded her eyes before cursing at Hyunjin and promptly running out the door. When Hyunjin finally stopped pretending to thrust against you, you'd woefully taken clear notice of the bulge in his jeans. Sitting up revealed, to your mortification, that you were soaked. Hyunjin's face had been flushed, on the verge of breaking a sweat when he quickly adjusted his jeans and briskly thanked you. Now this was another thing both of you refused to talk about.

Which led to tonight. Only a couple months after the ex-girlfriend plot and almost half a year after the movie theater debacle, you and Hyunjin were still great friends who never, ever discussed what was going on between you two, because there was actually nothing going on to discuss. Which was good because you were supposed to meet up with his friend Changbin for a casual date at Halloween party they were invited to.

The thing you weren't expecting, however, was not seeing Hyunjin downstairs at the lobby like you'd planned. Hyunjin's friend, Felix, was friendly as always when he let you into his apartment, but he did tell you that he wasn't sure where Hyunjin was as well. This was odd, given that Felix didn't exactly have a big apartment and you didn't exactly show up when everyone else did. There was only a handful of people in the modest apartment. The small kitchen and tiny balcony didn't reveal Hyunjin, nor did the living room when you checked again before sitting on Felix's small couch next to a grim reaper mannequin. You tried shouldering the mannequin aside, attempting to get some personal space, but found the decoration surprisingly heavy. When you tried again, the mannequin grabbed your hand, making you shriek. The decorative grim reaper laughed brightly, its shoulders shaking before slipping off its mask, revealing Changbin's fluffy curls that he shook out of his eyes. He pulled his fogged-up glasses off of his nose so he could wipe them off with his cloak.

This was a relief, if anything. Meeting up with Changbin was the whole point of the night to begin with. You chatted and flirted on the couch as more guests filtered into the party, but still no sign of Hyunjin. Concern began to seep into the corners of your mind, a nagging thought persisting that maybe something had happened to him. You excused yourself, grabbing a drink from the impressive spread laid out in the crowded apartment. Barring the whole Hyunjin-being-missing thing, this was an incredible time. Changbin was so hot and nice, and you were easily winding each other up. The first time Changbin worked up the nerve to put his hand on your knee, you almost burst. There was already discussion of whose place you were heading after the party, yours or his. This meant that Hyunjin had to hurry his ass up and show his face at this party, or you were going to be distracted worrying about him all night.

Your nerves calmed down a little when you walked back to the couch. Changbin had his mask back on and was scrolling through his phone, and you decided to be bold and sit down on his lap. The couch was crowded, after all. You serenely cuddled like this, people-watching at the party, and even getting a little excited when you noticed Changbin was getting a bit hard where you were seated on his lap.

Except that was when Changbin emerged from the kitchen, cocktail in one hand and mask in another. Frankly, you could've pissed yourself, your guts clenched so hard. Who the hell were you sitting on?!

Your answer came when the grim reaper you were sitting on pulled his mask off, revealing Hyunjin brushing his fingers back through his shaggy hair. That gut-clenching feeling grew worse. You stared, gobsmacked, as Hyunjin laughed, oblivious to your distress and Changbin's confusion.

"Hey!" Hyunjin giggled, "you got the same mask!"

Changbin attempted to diplomatically chuckle. "Uh, heh, yeah. You texted me that pic of it!"

"I meant it as inspo!" howled Hyunjin, his shoulders shaking. His hips shifting under you reminded you of how hard he had been getting. You whipped your head in his direction.

"Can I talk to you?" you half-asked, half-demanded.

Hyunjin looked confused when you grabbed his sleeve and dragged him out to the tiny balcony, where poor Felix had apparently stored all his extra crap for the duration of the party. You were shoved in between a stack of plastic storage totes and a small washer/dryer, chest to chest with Hyunjin. Good thing for the proximity, too, because it reminded you not to yell at him and draw more attention to yourselves.

"I was going to ask you," Hyunjin nonchalantly began, "where were you?"

"Where was I?!" you whisper-shrieked at him. "I've been waiting for you for the past thirty minutes! Thank god Changbin was here already or--"

"Yeah! I saw that," your friend noted brightly, almost making you go ballistic in the process. "How was that going?"

"It was going great until, you know, until I was sitting on your lap instead of his!"

"That was crazy," Hyunjin agreed. "I can't believe you didn't even check to see if it was me."

"I wasn't trying to sit on your lap! I was--ugh, just forget it!"

Hyunjin gazed at you curiously as you tried to shove yourself away from him and leave the balcony... until you realized you couldn't. The two of you were wedged. Now Hyunjin got a bit more distressed with you.

"Was this on purpose?" you badgered him. "Things have been weird between us and now that I'm getting with one of your friends, you want me all to yourself?"

"Weird? What's weird?" Hyunjin argued, trying to push you out and away from him. "Things are weird because you keep on throwing yourself at me! Do you want Changbin or not?"

"Throwing myself at you?!" you blustered. "Who was the one who invited me over and dry-fucked me to scare off their ex?!"

"Who was the one who felt me up during a whole movie and pretended like nothing happened after?!" Hyunjin argued back.

You grabbed the hem of your dress and yanked it up when you found that it was restricting the use of your legs. This didn't remotely work, instead only pressing you hip to hip with Hyunjin, separated now by only your panties and his jeans. He blushed hard when he realized the same thing you did. You rolled your eyes. "Look, you're even hard for me again. All I did was sit on your lap."

Hyunjin looked anywhere but at you, an easy task given the darkness of the balcony. In fact, someone had pulled the curtain in front of the screen door closed in the apartment, making it impossible for any of the partygoers to see what was going on outside and cutting out most of the auxiliary light.

"Fine," Hyunjin grumbled, "you're right. I'm sorry. You just... look really good tonight."

Begrudgingly, you looked up at your friend. "... Yeah?"

"... Yeah," he curtly nodded.

The ensuing kiss felt like it lacked impetus but also like it'd been there all along. Both of you had been hurtling towards this kiss for months now, maybe even going back to when you first met. And, now that you finally crossed first base (after skipping it and going to second), it felt like you were making up for lost time. There'd never been an opportunity to really notice how big Hyunjin's hands were, and now they were all over you, everywhere he could reach where you were wedged up against each other. You were nearly light-headed when you noticed his long fingers expertly navigating the close quarters to pull your panties aside, and you suddenly came back to your senses.

"Right here?" you wheezed, half-heartedly putting your hand on his arm.

"Can we?" Hyunjin pleaded, equally needy and hoarse. "We already halfway did it a couple months ago."

You thought about this, only as critically as Hyunjin's lips on your neck could allow, and you quickly nodded your agreement. Swiftly, you could feel the warmth of Hyunjin's hardness between your legs, contrasting amazingly with the cool night air. This was just like back on Hyunjin's bed, only a million times better now that everything seemed to be clearly laid out between you. You were embarrassed to think you'd refused to let yourself acknowledge how long you'd wanted Hyunjin, and you suspected he felt the same. He was indecipherable in the moment. His thrusts were haphazard and rough, but he kissed you tenderly whenever his lips caught yours. Stunningly, he'd even begun to work up a sweat, which you found confoundingly hot. Hyunjin was in a rush to take his time with you. Whether you did it for 5 minutes or 30, you had no idea, but your climax almost snuck up on you, it came so easily.

"Hyunjin," you whimpered, "I'm gonna--"

"Shh, not so loud," he warned, even through his tensed jaw, his scrunched eyes betraying how close he also was. "Hold onto me, okay?"

You and Hyunjin clutched onto each other, your nails digging into his biceps and his hands grabbing onto your hips in a vice as you collectively gasped and sighed and cursed through your combined peaks.

Spots and stars clouded your vision for a minute while you and Hyunjin caught your breath. Things threatened to turn awkward, but you refused to let it. You and Hyunjin were still close. Now you were even closer. You just had to know where you were headed next.

"So..." Hyunjin panted. "Do we sneak out or do I talk to Changbin?"

You grinned up at Hyunjin, brushing your fingers through his hair. "I think we find a way to get off this balcony first."

[buckysgrace]

Hi lovely, maybe Billy gets a little drunk and confesses his feelings to a girl he’s on again/off again with. The only reason he’s been on again/ off again with her is because he was developing feelings for her and it scared him so now that he’s drunk it all comes spilling out 😭

Only when you have time love x

Thank you for requesting (and being patient with me lmao) <3

It had been a week since you had last seen Billy. A full week of not hearing his voice, feeling his touch. You missed him, but you weren't going to let yourself be so available this time.

You were just friends. That was it. Maybe a little bit more here and there, but he had proven that he didn't really care about you. Not in the same way you cared about him.

And it was miserable. Even if it was the right thing to do. It felt like your heart had been crushed, split into tiny little pieces. Just another girl on Billy's notch. And it seemed like he had already moved on, forgotten about you.

The sound of the window rattling drew your attention, snapping you away from your gaze on the ceiling as you pulled your headphones off of your ears. You watched, heart stalling in fear for a moment as someone pulled themselves inside. You faltered when you realized who it was.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, gaping in disbelief at the hard way Billy hit the floor. You rushed over, listening to the way he groaned as he rolled onto his side, rubbing his palms over his knees.

"Wanted to see you." His words were slurred, blue eyes hazy as a lazy smile formed on his lips. He was drunk. Definitely. You could smell the alcohol clinging to his skin.

"You couldn't call like a normal person?" You asked him seriously, shaking your head as you moved your arms around his torso.

"Didn't feel right." He mumbled tiredly, going dead weight in your arms as you tried to lift him. You grunted, stumbling before you set him back onto the ground.

"Are you alright in there?" Your mom’s voice rang from outside the door, making your veins freeze over as you quickly clamped a palm over Billy’s mouth before he could reply.

"I'm fine, mom!" You yelled back, whining at the frantic tone in your voice, "I just tripped is all. I'm okay though. Sorry for waking you up!"

"Do you need anything?" She asked, "It sounded like it hurt." She added as you cringed at the way Billy began to lick your skin. He chuckled, looking up at you in amusement as you wiped your hand dry on your pajama shorts.

"Uh," You paused, trying to keep Billy's hands to himself, "No. I'm okay, really. Have a good night!" You yelled at her, wincing as you listened to the sound of her footsteps retreating.

Billy rested his head against your hip, sighing deeply as his eyes fluttered shut. You shook your head, not wanting him to pass out on your floor.

"You scared the shit out of me." You told him seriously, positioning his feet onto the floor better before you forced him to stand this time.

"I knocked on your window," He groaned, "It's a long ways up." He gestured quickly towards the window before you shifted his arm over your shoulders, trying to keep him supported.

"You could've killed yourself." You told him seriously, feeling warm and out of breath by the time you got him to your bed. He collapsed, arms and legs outstretched as you tugged his boots off of his feet. You didn’t want your bed to get too dirty.

"But I didn't," He replied with a smirk, looking all cool and collected again, "Pretty damn cool if you ask me." He grinned as he rested his hands behind his head, his shirt lifting over his toned stomach in the process. You turned away, doing your best not to stare.

"Not cool at all," You argued back, "What are you doing here?" You asked him curiously, raising your eyebrows as he slowly inspected your room. Then turned back to you.

"I needed to see you." He mumbled softly, eyes softening as he continued to stare at you. You breathed in deeply, not daring to look away.

"Why?" You asked him softly, trying not to get defensive. Or angry. You didn't want to snap at him but you were still bitter. You didn't like feeling like you were able to be tossed away so easily.

“I missed you,” He slurred out finally, “Like a lot.” He added as he moved his palms to his sides slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. Your heart hammered roughly inside of your chest from his words, despite his previous actions.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” You stated slowly, watching the way he traveled his eyes back towards the floor. You breathed in deeply, wondering if he would even answer you. Or if he would think you could go back to how things were. But you couldn't, not again. You didn't want to be ignored by him. It was killing you.

“I like you,” He mumbled as he brought his eyes back towards you, “A lot. You’re really pretty. And funny. And I hate when you’re around other guys.” He continued to speak underneath his breath, almost whispering it to you. Like it was some big secret.

“Oh.” You spoke in surprise, eyes widening as you tried to gain sense of what he had said. You hadn't expected that. Not at all.

“Yeah.” He pushed his fingers through his hair, his lips forming into a thin frown as he watched you for the longest time. You felt nervous suddenly.

“I like you a lot too,” You replied as you pressed your lips together, “And you’re also really pretty. But your humor is kinda dry.” You told him seriously, gaining a little grin from him.

"I'm sorry I ignored you." He said, his words still slurring as he fell back against your mattress. You scooted forward, leaning over to get a better look at him.

"I'll forgive you," You started, watching the way the blue in his eyes twinkled, "On one condition." You added, holding a single finger up. He cocked his eyebrows.

"And what is that?" He hummed softly, leaning forward high enough to kiss your fingertip before he fell back down onto your pillows. You grinned.

"You take me out to dinner and I pick the place," You told him, admiring how sparkly his teeth looked as he smiled at you, "And you pay. Then all is forgiven." You added with a little laugh, earning a nudge from him. Something in his eyes let you know that this would be a new page for both of you.

[lotusarchon]

Hi Lotus! If it's possible may I request an x reader scenario with Erlang Shen reacting to a reader who is studying western magic? (harry potter-way) and they come from house Hufflepuff? The differences in how magic is handled by eastern and western countries would be a fun dynamic I think. Also, I wish you a lovely day!

ermine (erlang shen x reader)

content warnings: gender neutral reader, second pov (you/your), fluff, drabble

author's notes: sorry lucky, but i don't like harry potter despite reading the books it was just...eugh for me lmfao 😭 so i'm sorry this isn't too good

“What's the purpose of even using a wand?”

Erlang hadn't meant for the question to come off as rude. He was only mildly curious, and by extension, rather intrigued, observing you walk off ahead with a small frown.

He'd by lying if he said he was only interested in your magic tricks though. Coming across you after fighting that little monkey, walking around with the world's most befuddled expression. From what he could get from you on that first meeting, you were a mortal, with some interesting talents to keep yourself from dying.

And well. Given that you could survive a yaoguai despite having a weird old stick in your hand, you were worthy enough for Erlang to fully acknowledge you.

“It kinda. Like….helps focus the spells, or something?” You replied in response to his question, but judging by your own tone, you didn't quite know why either. It seemed that wherever you came from (which was far from here), using these little pathetic sticks to cast spells was a norm, and a contrast to how Erlang had grown up learning them.

He hummed to acknowledge your answer, quickening his steps to meet yours. “And I presume you know of transformation spells?”

You made a face. “Transformation spells? You mean like disguises?”

When he shook his head, you sighed. “Naw, we don't have that kind of stuff. Least, I don't think so. I mean…” You tapped your wand against your hand. “We can do transformation stuff? But like, I'm not advanced enough for that, plus I'm sure you gotta do like potions…this that…yadda yadda.”

You waved your hand, causing Erlang to chuckle. You glanced at him in turn; “Can you do transformation spells?”

“I have 72 of them.” As if to prove his point, his figure disappeared into a puff of golden smoke. Where he once stood, there was a fluffy white ermine, sitting on its hind feet and beady black eyes gazing up at you. You couldn't help but coo, squatting to rub his head affectionately.

“Your magic is certainly something,” you commented, scratching ermite Erlang’s head. “You didn't even need to cast a spell! Just, poof! So cool!”

And maybe he didn't mind. Just as long as no one knew the cute ermine getting belly rubs in your hands wasn't the great Erlang Shen.

You continued to gush, this time, picking up ermine Erlang in your hands. Though surprised, he remained compliant, allowing you to scratch his head and rub his belly while you continued to walk to whichever destination you wanted. He'd learnt that questioning your logic would only give him a headache in response.

@lotusarchon , 28.11.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[ghost-proofbaby]

just rewatched the first episode/the scene where eddie tries to wake up chrissy! couldn’t help but imagine eddie trying to wake willow up in ‘so mordor it is’… have you thought about that scene yet?? love it and can’t wait for an update!

oh nonnie. are we sure we want the answer to that? because yes, yes i have.

her favorite song is the chain by fleetwood mac, and that was never a throwaway detail or just a cute little bit to help better expand her character/their relationship. 😌😌😌 nor was eddie purchasing a cassette of fleetwood mac

but something i don't think i've ever pointed out is how they have several songs attached to several good memories between them, and for good reason. imagine a panicked eddie, on the verge of losing the person he cares about the most. to find out music is the key. to remember all their fragile beginnings, all of the music that was always laced throughout their moments. to have to debate what song he needs to play.

is it africa by toto, the soundtrack to their ridiculous dance in the rain and the first time he'd ever seen her smile so widely at the sight of a storm?

is it you send me by sam cooke, a song that still sends eddie's heart racing when he remembers holding willow in the middle of her kitchen, the smell of cookies and her shampoo wrapping him up so tightly he suddenly can't breathe from all the love inside of him?

is it possibly a song by metallica? one of the ones he played during one of the hundreds of times she'd sat prettily in his passenger seat, looking at him with warmth he's never had the privilege to know before? could fade to black be enough, the memory of eddie swaying with her in the middle of a crowd where she should feel entirely out of place but she can only feel completely at home while in his arms? or for whom the bells toll, the song she mentioned liking in that hotel room during a night full of new experiences?

i'm just being a dumbass and rambling now, but my point is - yeah. yeah, i've thought about it a lot. even written an aftermath scene between the two of them for it. i like to break my own heart a lot, if we haven't already realized this. <3

[attleboy]

Who dya think Pomni would've bitten?

well when i was drawing it i wasn't thinking of anyone specific... so it can be whoever you want!

however... let's go through the suspects

jax would definitely bully someone into a violent rage... no need to explain that one i think

caine and kinger might unintentionally startle pomni into attacking, but i think they're a little too... uh. weird for it to be all that climactic? caine would just go "BAD!! BAD POMNI!!" and spritz her with a spray bottle until she let go, meanwhile kinger probably wouldn't even notice until pomni had already stopped...

gangle and zooble probably wouldn't be bitten just because they'd avoid a high-strung pomni. gangle out of fear, and zooble because they're not stupid enough to poke a ticking time bomb

and for ragatha... i'm just gonna leave this other anon's idea here because... yeah

definitely unintentional on both sides, but isn't that where the best tragedy lies?

[aimedis]

THE SIREN AND PROFESSOR - IMPERIUM LASKO/DEAR (+FREELANCER)

this was written from a prompt i got from @piffany666 so thank you and i hope you enjoy <3

cw - lasko being a creep towards freelancer as per usual, lasko being creepy in general, dear being condescending and mildly abusive ngl, lasko is toxic too, moderate hostility, couple's quarrels, not super aggressive though , mild innuendo at the end + lasko still being a creep

wc - 1.3k

Freelancer coughs and shifts uncomfortably in their seat right in front of President Moore's desk as he rambles on and on and on about some human-born superiority bullshit. Again.

They unfortunately found themselves here at least three times a week listening to the same rant. The nodding, the fake smiles and laughter, and enduring his not-at-all-subtle advances on them both verbally and physically.

The only reason they keep coming to these is the slight chance that maybe he'll let them see Vindemeator. But that only worked once in a while.

"...like us. Right, Freelancer?"

Freelancer blinks out of their zoned-out little daze to re-plaster the smile on their face, "Mhm. Of course, Mr. Moore. We human borns are special and I appreciate you telling me that.. again. Uhm, it's getting kind of late-"

Lasko's soft laugh rings unsettling in Freelancer's ears, cutting them off. They barely conceal a shiver.

"Oh please," He grins, "I've told you countless times to call me Lasko when it's just the two of us. We're too close to be on last name basis these days."

They nod slowly, the smile frozen on their face.

Lasko leans back in his desk with a satisfied smirk, "I like seeing you smile, Freelancer. You truly are beautiful."

And Freelancer tries so hard to not let their expression waver, trying not to show the disgust they felt deep in their gut.

"Thank you, Mr M- uhh Lasko.." They force a laugh, "But that's really not necessary."

Lasko scoffs playfully, "Oh, nonsense. I can acknowledge a pretty face when I see one. And you definitely fit that bill."

They stifle what feels like their hundredth sigh when the door to Lasko's office swings open unceremoniously.

Both Freelancer and Lasko look at the new person in the room with very different expressions. Freelancer with one of curiosity and Lasko with one of exasperation.

Dear walks into the room looking down at a bunch of papers they were going though.

"Koko, I need your signature for-" They look up for a moment and double back when they see Freelancer, "-something. Oh, Freelancer. Didn't expect to see you here at this hour."

Freelancer misses the death stare they give Lasko for a split second as he nervously readjusts his tie.

They wave hesitantly with a smile that's a little more genuine, "Hi Professor."

Dear sighs, waving them off, "Don't call me that, kid, it makes me feel old."

Lasko interrupts with a tight voice, "To what do I owe the pleasure, my dear? I was under the impression that you were busy today."

They huff an all too sweet laugh, "Yeah well, clearly I'm not anymore. I wouldn't be wasting my time in here if I had work to do."

Lasko pokes his tongue at his gum in irritation, "Right.."

They only raise an eyebrow at him before looking back at Freelancer.

"So, Freelancer, what are you doing here so late? Surely you would have better things to do than spend time in here with... him." They snort, "Finished all your studying for the week or has Mr. Moore been keeping you too long? How long have you two been chatting away, hm?"

Freelancer stutters at the amount of questions but they glance over at the clock in the corner of the room, "Uhm.. around three or four hours?"

Dear laughs out of surprise, "Four hours? Goodness, Lasko, do you have no sense of time?" They turn to glare "playfully" at Lasko, smile still stretched across their face.

He sits up a little straighter, "I.. didn't realize it was getting so late. I apologize, Freelancer. Dear, do you really have nothing better to do?"

They giggle, "Than be in here riling you up? Nothing brings me more amusement."

"Must be time to find a hobby then," He says quickly, crossing his arms.

Dear looks him up and down, their smile fading. Right then, Freelancer stands up from their seat.

They grab their bag and sling it over their shoulder, smiling at the two, "I- I think I'm gonna head out now. Thank you.., Lasko, for seeing me. See you in class next week, Professor. Have a good night, you two."

They both look away from each other quickly. Lasko coughs and gives Freelancer a look that they almost interpret as pleading.

But surely the Academy's president wouldn't be pleading with them. Right?

Freelancer shrugs it off and turns around.

Dear bids them goodbye and Lasko sighs almost inaudibly.

"I'll see you next time, Freelancer. Focus on your studies now!"

Dear looks back at Lasko to continue their conversation to see him still looking at Freelancer's turned back. They follow his gaze only to find that he's staring directly at Freelancer's ass.

They clench their jaw and drop their stack of papers on the desk so loudly, that Lasko flinches at the noise.

"Eyes up here, Moore," They roll their eyes as they sit on his desk

Lasko lets the faux kind act drop in front of them and leans back lazily in his chair, "Whatever. What're the papers for?"

"Don't worry about that. I remember distinctly telling you two days ago not to ever have them in here alone with you again, you creep."

Lasko rolls his eyes, "This shit again- Yeah, and I remember distinctly telling you then that I am the president of this academy and I'll do whatever I want. You can't boss me around."

"You can hardly call yourself a president when all you do with that title is use to get into innocent human borns' pants-"

"I do not-!"

"I see the way you look at them, Lasko." They deadpan, "You're not slick in the slightest."

"I look at them like one of my students!" Lasko laughs helplessly, "I would never do that to you or them. You're being paranoid."

"You think I don't hear all the comments you make about their pretty face? Their body? Lasko, I'm not stupid."

Lasko just scoffs, "And when you go around batting your eyes at random security to get stuff from them? Or touching the other teachers so they cover for you while you go get high off your ass?" Dear smirks at him, unfazed, "It's called efficiency. I'm just getting what I want around here. You should try it."

"No thanks, I'd rather not be a whore-"

Lasko hisses when his head is pulled upwards by his chin by none other than his dearest.

They look pissed. He loved it.

"Watch yourself, President. You know you don't actually hold any power over me." They squeeze his face a little.

He huffs, "Would you let go?"

"You're so cute when you're frustrated with me, Koko." They smile falsely.

"I must be pretty damn adorable then- let go-!" He struggles a little as he tries to think about literally anything other than their hand moving to yank at his hair, "Please?"

"Take this as a lesson, hm? Leave the Freelancer alone, Lasko. Or I'll really be upset. You don't want that, do you?" Dear hums.

Lasko looks away from them, blush high on his cheeks, "No, Dear. It won't happen again."

"Look at me when you speak."

He sighs and pouts up at them, "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you?"

Dear smiles, "Promise?"

"Always." Lasko gives a soft hum, eyeing the papers again, "And those?"

"Ah. Don't worry about what it is, just sign the last three pages and I'll be on my way."

He nods and grabs a pen from his pen holder and quickly signs off on all of them. He knows better than to question Dear when they want something from him. They'd still get it in the end so it's no use to fight in the place.

Lasko smiles when they kiss the section of hair they had pulled on before grabbing the papers.

"Thanks, Koko, I appreciate it. I'll come to yours later tonight." Dear waves, turning their back to him with a little wink.

Lasko waves back, an unsettling smirk on his lips, "Bye, see you."

He's practically drooling, looking down at their ass as they leave too.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

freak lasko vindemeator and freelancer mention old married couple's quarrel freak lasko whore duo chin grab slutty hair pull dear dear innuendo ass glance freak lasko and post

[muzzlemouths]

Were the DMD boys ever witnesses to a baby's firsts? Like first words or first steps?

Superstar Shopping Center, circa 1977

“Did you need help with that?”

Sun moseys up to a mother who looks like she’s got her hands full – literally. Four shopping bags balanced on one arm and a baby in the other. A second child — five or six, if he had to guess — clings to the tail of her mother’s jacket in lieu of a free hand, dressed in her Sunday Best. She ducks behind her mother’s arm as Sun nears and addresses him with a look tied between awe and apprehension.

Contrarily, her mother regards Sun with nothing but relief, handing over all but one of her bags the moment his hands extend to take them. “Well, thank you!” She reorients the remaining bag to sit at her elbow so the little girl at her side has a proper handhold and gently scolds her for continuing to hide.

“It’s quite alright,” Sun assures her with a kind smile. He crouches to be more at eye-level with the child and offers her a little wave, taking no offense to the way she peeks only slightly out from behind her mother. “That’s a very pretty dress,” he says. It’s a Carter's collared plaid, Christmas-time red, with a white dog-eared collar and rabbit embroidery. Perfectly suited for the season. “Are you headed somewhere special?”

“Just down to Shutterbug,” the mother laughs, answering Sun’s question when her daughter doesn’t budge. “I know it’s still early in the season, but I have an endless list of things to get around to before the month’s end, so we’re just going to get our photos done now, and the family will just receive their cards a little early, this year.”

“Oh, certainly,” he nods sagely, as if he’s even once sent a Christmas card himself, “better to get it over and done with before everyone and their mother realizes they’ve forgotten to sign and seal their envelopes!”

“Exactly!” She laughs again. “I figure, well, I might as well get some gift shopping done since I’m already here, but–”

Right on cue, the infant in her arms begins to wail his poor little head off, and she grimaces.

“Finding it hard to get anything done with your hands full?” Sun asks, waiting for her nod before continuing. “Well, that’s nothing I can’t fix! I could carry your other bags for you, or–”

“Could you babysit?”

He straightens with a jolt, nearly dropping the bags he already carried in the process. “Oh! Well, um, company policy doesn’t exactly allow me to–”

“It would just be for a few minutes. An hour, at most.” She gives him a pleading look. “You’re coded with childcare protocols, aren’t you?”

“I–” Sun scrambles for an answer. “My training extends to some childcare etiquette, but–”

“Perfect!” She lofts the infant into his arms like he is nothing more than a small sack of potatoes. “This is George. He’s nine months old as of last week, was just changed, and ate an hour ago, so he should be an angel for you.”

“W-What about his shoes?” He tucks the child against his shoulder and gestures worriedly towards his itty little toes, clothed in nothing but the navy blue footie he wears.

“Oh, don’t be silly, he’s still too young!” The woman insists, “George has only just learned how to crawl, I doubt he’ll be walking any time soon. You have nothing to worry about!”

“But–”

“I’ll come find you in an hour when I’m all finished up. Thank you again!”

The mother turns on her heel like she’s being chased out by fire, leaving Sun there in the center of the mall aisle, still as a statue and stunned into silence.

There was a kernel of truth to his words. Both he and Moon had been programmed with the know-how in terms of child rearing basics, and in fact it was the very first frame of coding that he recalls having. For what purpose, he isn’t sure. It has lied dormant beneath layers of more relevant protocols for years and only ever makes an appearance when he’s interacting with the few children the mall sees from time to time. Even still, it is nothing in the way of proper training for how to care for an infant so small, and for so long.

Needless to say, he was panicking.

The first thing he does after quieting the infant’s cries is find another employee and hand off the bags, instructing them to be brought to Shutterbug and kept behind the desk for the time being.

With his hands freed he can focus all of his attention on the child who, for what it’s worth, has been a perfect angel in the short time since he was haphazardly carted into Sun’s arms. Quiet as a church mouse after that first little outburst, and just as cute, too, the little bundle of joy looking up at him with big brown eyes full of wonder.

Sun returns his gaze with a long sigh. “Now then, what are we going to do with you?”

The protocols that once were dormant now rose to the surface and screamed at him to engage the child in “stimulating activities“, whatever that meant. Instructions for playtime involved everything from games like peekaboo and patty-cake to more developmental activities, such as playing music, coloring, or toying with building blocks. Sun doubted that Bee Gees’ hit single “Stayin’ Alive” was anything in the way of educational for the tiny tot as it played over the speakers, and — to the best of his knowledge — he can’t recall ever having access to building blocks or coloring books. That left nothing but the traditional baby games, tried and true, and easy enough!

He borrows a small blanket from a store nearby and finds a cozy spot on the floor, tucked safely between two plant boxes, to set him down. Sun finds that playing these games comes almost naturally to him — but that’s a given, isn’t it? He follows the instruction manual in his code to the letter, pride and joy overwhelming his stint of uncertainty each time he comes out from hiding behind his hands to the sound of shrill laughter, every “Peek-a-boo!” earning him a motley of giggles and a baby-toothed smile.

Distraction arrives in the form of an employee struggling to carry a stack of boxes into the store behind him. He’s on his feet and across the room in an instant as one protocol briefly overrides the other, and it’s only for a moment — just a moment — but when he turns around again it is to the sight of an empty blanket.

His charge has gone missing.

Panic overwhelms every one of his sensors, rushing along his circuits like adrenaline through veins gripping him with a fear so potent it threatens to shut down his system right then and there.

No, think! His mother said he had only just learned to crawl, which meant little George couldn’t have gone far. Unless the infant hadn’t gone anywhere by himself at all, and rather, someone had come along and–

Sun shut down that train of thought the moment it struck him. He would never forgive himself if something so terrible happened on his watch, saying nothing of what management would do to him if a child was abducted right from under his nose.

He decides the best course of action right now is to follow the same protocol he would use for any other “lost” child. Yes, lost, that’s all they were. It’s so easy to get lost in a mall as large as this one. Sun comforts himself with the knowledge that he has never let a lost child go unfound before. His success rate is a perfect 100%, and he intends to keep it that way.

First, he scans the security cameras for any sight of the child. He is sure to look in every nook and cranny, and he deflates with growing dread when that little navy footie doesn’t appear anywhere on the screens. His voice cuts through the employee radio a moment later and describes the child with every possible detail he can think of, asking that any sighting of the little straggler be reported to him immediately. He hopes against every star in the sky that the mother doesn’t happen to overhear from an employee nearby.

Lastly, he heads out in search of help.

Moon is meant to be working on the upper floor today, helping Sun handle the usual holiday rush, and his lack of response to the radio call is concerning. Not too concerning, though, given that Sun finds him right where he’d been expecting to.

That is, sprawled atop the lockers in the employee break room, one arm dangling over the side, the other resting casually over his waist, and a VOGUE magazine draped over his face.

‘Lazy’ doesn’t even scratch the surface of the words Sun wants to use. They’ve talked about this, the bad habit having put Moon in trouble a number of times already, but that’s an argument for another day.

There’s no time to mince words right now, and so he doesn’t. Instead, Sun stalks across the room and slams his fist against the lockers beneath his sleeping coworker, who sits upright with such force that his head makes contact with the ceiling and crashes through like a train into glass.

It might have been funny if Sun wasn’t as whipped up into a panic as he is, but as it stands he can hardly even keep from raising his voice when he addresses Moon with a scowl. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Sun hisses, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. “I take it you didn’t hear my radio call?”

Moon serves him with a glower of his own, snarling deep within his voicebox as he runs his hand over the glassy side of his faceplate to ensure that it’s still intact. He has the decency to look a little guilty, if only for a moment, cerulean blue eyes lowering to the radio attached at his hip that is visibly turned to OFF.

“Of course not,” Sun tuts.

Griping, Moon dusts the ceiling powder from his shoulders. “What could be so important that you had to–”

“I lost a baby.”

The words render him speechless, a long, uncomfortable silence taking up the space between them for all of a minute before Moon blurts out, “Sun, you don’t have a baby.”

“That’s because I lost him!” Sun shrills, beginning to pace. “I was helping a mother with her bags, and she asked me to babysit, a-and I know we aren’t technically allowed to, but– but it all just happened so fast!” His arms flailed for emphasis. “She said he wasn’t even walking yet, I thought it’d be easy! Everything was going so well, too, we were playing a game of peek-a-boo and then – then someone needed help. I only had my back turned for a minute, Moon. Maybe even less! But then I turned around, and…”

“You lost a baby,” he mutters to himself. Moon runs both hands over his face, sighing into his palms. “You lost a baby,” he repeats. “How do you lose an entire child?”

“I don’t know!” Sun answers, voice cracking with guilt. “Will you help me find them?”

“Obviously.” Moon hops down from the lockers (pointedly ignoring the massive hole in the ceiling – he’d come up with an excuse to tell management later) and is already crossing the room when he speaks again. “Management will take it out on both of us if they find out, so you need to get a grip. Your face looks like you just watched someone plummet to their death, for fucks’s sake.” He pauses at the door. “Did you get a scan of their face?”

“O-Of course!”

“Good. Transfer the image to me along with any other information that might be helpful. I’ll search the exits, you take the first story department stores.”

“What about the second floor?”

He fits him with a quizzical expression, going as far as to form an eyebrow with the stars on his faceplate screen and arch it pointedly. “You said this kid wasn’t walking yet,” Moon reminds him. “If someone ‘napped the little guy, they aren’t going to stick around, much less be caught shopping. They’ll head for the exits, first.”

“I guess that’s true…”

“And if you just coincidentally happened to have been babysitting the world’s fastest crawler, they would still be stuck on the first floor,” he continues, “which is why we’re checking there first.”

“Right. Right. You’re right.” Sun’s nod is shaky at best. His hands wring together with a tension that threatens to pop the joints out of place with each anxious tug.

Moon sighs and crosses the room again to place a hand on Sun’s shoulder. “We’ll find him,” he comforts, giving the shoulder a gentle squeeze, “but we need to go now. You won’t fix anything by standing here worrying.”

“Right,” he repeats, working to smother his nerves for the sake of focusing on the task at hand. “You check the exits, I’ll check the department stores. We’ll meet up at the fountain in thirty minutes if neither of us find anything?”

“Ten minutes,” Moon asserts. He wastes no further time, leaving Sun with only that and a firm nod before pacing out of the room.

Sun hopes they aren’t already too late.

-

Their search yields nothing but more disappointment. Ten painfully long minutes of searching that ends with them meeting at the fountain equally empty handed and with no further leads.

“We’re too late,” wails Sun, already catastrophizing. “How am I going to explain this to their mother? She’ll never forgive me, I’ll never forgive me–” His fingers hook around the rays beside his chin, the thin metal groaning beneath the force and threatening to snap right then and there, “–and management — stars, Moon, we’re going to be dismantled over this!”

“Lower your voice!” Moon snaps. He looks around, ensuring that that their crime — Sun’s crime — hasn’t been overheard. Luckily, it appears the fountain has drowned out their conversation sufficiently. “You need to calm down,” he continues. “I’m sure they’re somewhere around here.”

“We’ve checked everywhere!” His left ray bends under the pressure, molding to the shape of his fingers, slowly but surely. “I should have never let this happen. What was I thinking, turning my back on them? Now they’re all alone, o-or hurt, somewhere, or–”

“Hey, hey.” Moon takes him by the wrist, careful yet firm as he pries Sun’s fingers away from his mangled ray then holds his hand at a distance, so he can’t hurt himself further. “You made a mistake,” he agrees, “but it’s not fair to hold all of that blame yourself. You have no frame of reference for this sort of thing, we aren’t meant to be taking care of children in the first place.”

“I should have known better!” Sun insists. “How can I be expected to run a daycare if I can’t even look after one kid?”

Moon freezes, his optics flickering in a blink. “We–” slowly, he releases Sun’s wrist, “–we aren’t a daycare, Sun. We’re a mall. Are…are you feeling okay?”

“I…” Alarms and notices flood his screen, blocking Moon from view. Corroded files long since forgotten behind firewalls and newly instated protocols. He looks for answers in their overwhelming code and finds nothing but more questions; a lingering sense of awareness always just out of his reach. Then they’re gone, swept away all at once as his system tidies itself up, and he can think clearly again. “We’re in a mall,” he echoes, nodding to himself, “we run a mall. We’re mascots, not – not–” He faces Moon with a calmer disposition, forcing a smile, “I’m alright, now.”

“I always preferred the term Icon,” says Moon, “’mascot’ makes us sound like those people in animal suits waving around signs outside of businesses.” He laughs, and Sun laughs, too, but it’s strained. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He sighs with the last crumb of uncertainty. “I’m fine, just…confused, I guess. I think the anxiety is getting to me.” When he straightens again it’s with newfound gusto, a determination to make things right. “None of our employees have reported seeing anyone carting off with a baby that fits George’s description, so he must still be here. Do you want to try the second floor after all?”

“I guess it’s worth a shot,” says Moon. He takes another look around, eyes scanning the area for any possible lead, until his star-studded eyebrow arches downward. “You said he was wearing a blue footie?”

“Navy blue,” Sun nods his confirmation, “with a little white pocket on the front.”

“Like that?”

He follows Moon’s point all the way to the escalator, where good ol’ George is sat, halfway up to the second story, already, suckling at his thumb like this is any other Tuesday.

“That’s–” Sun feels like he’s going to scream, “that’s him!”

“Huh. Baby on an escalator,” he mutters inquisitively. “Never seen that before.”

“Moon!”

Not wanting to risk any more dillydallying, Sun rushes past him and beelines through the crowd, anxiety pulsing through him tenfold as he gets caught up in a group of customers gathered on the escalator themselves.

Moon takes an alternative route, opting to skip the escalator steps all together. Instead he leaps directly onto the handrail, steady and practiced, and carefully avoids his customer’s fingers as he races upward.

Sun meets him at the top an excruciating few seconds after and feels his composure slip further upon seeing him empty handed. “Where–?”

“I don’t know,” Moon interrupts, looking just as confused. “He was already gone when I got up here.”

“Seriously?” He braces both palms across his arms, hugging himself tightly so he doesn’t just rip out his rays all together. “He’s a baby, for Pete’s sake. How far could he have gone? How does this keep happening?”

“There!” Moon points a little ways off, where little George — somehow, someway — is spotted riding a runaway janitor’s cart, its wheels spiraling uncontrollably forward and headed straight for the wall.

“Stop that cart!” Shrieks Sun, already halfway across the room and hot on the cart’s tail.

The crowd is thick, clusters of customers all aiming to get their holiday shopping in before the real chaos begins, and it makes the already out of hand situation that much harder.

Sun hears the crash before he sees it, and feels his battery operated heart sink. The sight he’s met with upon finally reaching the end of the balcony is disastrous at best. The cart rests in a broken mess on the floor, having evidently bounced into a pair of trash cans rather than collide with the wall. One of said cans has toppled onto its side from the impact, and the trail of garbage leading out of it paints a perplexing picture.

Moon catches up with him a minute later, fans whirring like he’s out of breath. “Is he–”

“Gone,” Sun answers, aghast. He points to the breadcrumbs (literally) that trail out of the toppled can. “I think he fell into the garbage.”

“Well, that’s better than the wall,” hums Moon. “Maybe it cushioned his fall? And then the trashcan fell over…” he trails off.

“And he just…crawled out?” Sun finishes the thought, then raises his chin. The two share a dumbfounded expression.

“Sun, what kind of mutant child did you agree to babysit?”

“Don’t be rude!” He chastises. “George is just…special.”

“Yeah, specially designed to outwit us. They should have called him Curious George.” His eye follows the garbage trail until it peters out a few feet down. “Where do you suppose he went now?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sun groans. “Should we split up?”

“Good idea. You take the east wing, I’ll go west. Reconvene in thirty minutes?”

“Ten,”‌ corrects Sun, grimacing at the deja vu. “His mother promised an hour, and it’s already been over half of that. If we can’t find him in ten minutes, then we - we–”

“We are going to find him,” Moon assures, bolstering Sun’s confidence as best as he can. “We just need to focus, alright? No more running around like chickens with our heads cut off.”

Sun nods his agreement. “Right, okay. You’re right. I won’t let a baby run me in circles around my own mall.” His frazzled expressions calms, at that, and he smiles. “Just a nine-month infant who crawls a little faster than normal, that’s all he is. Easy peasy!”

-

What happens next is neither easy nor peasy. In fact, calling it ‘running circles’ is an understatement. In the next ten minutes alone, little George sends both of them out on nothing short of a wild goose chase, appearing in nigh impossible positions each and every time and always just out their grasp.

Sun is the first to find him. Tucked into the one corner of a store that the cameras don’t reach, donning a pair of sunglasses of all things (upside-down, mind you), and playing with a silicone whisk from the kitchenware section. Sun is only a short distance away when a customer taps him on the shoulder and asks where they can find the bathroom. Of course, the little tot is already gone when he turns back around.

A few meters down, Moon discovers some discarded sunglasses on the floor. He spots a familiar pair of white padded feet a moment later and finds George climbing the side of an information kiosk. The employee inside is busy with a customer and doesn’t even notice the little rascal scaling the grounded kiosk sign like he was born to climb Everest. They notice Moon, though, and are all too eager to introduce one of the mall’s very own mascots to the customer who is, apparently, visiting for the very first time. It’s all Moon can do just to act polite in front of the woman as his guest-orientation protocols take over, keeping him paralyzed there even as the infant merrily drops from the sign and disappears from his sight.

Five minutes later Sun hears a shrill of laughter and turns around a corner to see George playing in the plant trough like it’s a sandbox, his navy footie all but smothered in dirt. An internal scream rips silently through his system as he grapples with the knowledge that he’s now going to get an earful even if he does successfully get his hands on the kid.

True to character, George is nowhere to be found when Sun winds up in front of the planter. He calms his nerves and protocols alike by fixing the poor flowers back into their proper position from where they had been carelessly plucked out and thrown aside. He knows there’s no saving a few of them, and he’ll need to reorder more seeds to make up for it, but that’s a headache for another day.

The current source of his vexation appears to have shown some mercy, at least. Sun finds a trail of muddy footprints leading out of the trough and down the aisle. An employee glances up from their storefront desk upon seeing him and points to the right, towards the candy store, knowing exactly what he was looking for, already. For the life of him, Sun cannot understand why they — or anyone else for that matter — hasn’t thought to stop the runaway infant. Apparently, a nine month old crawling around without parental supervision is nothing to bat an eye at to anyone in the mall’s entire vicinity.

Moon is passing by Waning Lights theater when he hears a small commotion inside. On a hunch he peeks in, expecting nothing in particular, and instead sees two enormous baby hands covering the screen. That is, two very small baby hands waving in front of the projector.

He’s up the steps in a matter of seconds, mechanics racing with the adrenaline of having finally caught the little devil, only — of course — the little hands have already disappeared, and the seat is empty, leaving only a confused employee where he once was. “You’re joking…” Moon whispers, exhausted. An already irritated customer shushes him from somewhere downstage. Distantly, he hears the telltale sound of infant babbling and begrudgingly follows it out of the theater again.

He bursts through the door and right into Sun, colliding with a loud clatter of metal and recoiling, each holding their heads respectively and groaning in perfect unison.

“Did you find him?” Sun asks around a wince.

“Technically yes, but–”

“He got away from you too?”

Moon nods. “What is it with this kid?”

“I don’t know, but we need to figure out a different plan soon. We’re already over our ten minutes.” He looks around once more for good measure, knowing the child couldn’t have gone too far, already, if they had both just spotted him a moment ago.

That’s when he sees it. Little George, nine months old, walking down the balcony aisle. Rather, the little tike is running like he’s off to the races.

“Well, that explains why he’s been able to get everywhere so fast,” says Moon, following Sun’s gaze. “I thought you said he was only starting to crawl?”

“He’s, um, a fast learner?” Sun answers sheepishly. He watches George go for all of one long, lovestruck moment — feeling like a proud parent himself — before the swell of pride in his chest shatters to make way for circuit frying terror.

See, little George has shown himself to be quite the impressive little acrobat. He can walk, he can run, he can climb, and at that very moment he is making quick work of closing the distance between himself and a stack of boxes pressed up against the balcony railing.

The only thing awaiting him on the other side is a long, long fall.

Sun darts forward without a word, but Moon is faster, weaving through the crowd with a nimble speed that he cannot compete with. “We aren’t going to make it,” Sun gasps, announcing it to himself, mostly, as horror grips him throughout. Even if they reach the railing on time, George is already at the top of the stack, raising himself onto unsteady feet and peering out into the great beyond. He’ll be over the edge before they can stop him, and they won’t make it to the first floor on time to catch him there.

But then Sun hears it; the whir of a wire, quick and sturdy as it races through its ceiling track to Moon’s beck and call. He watches its metal hook begin to lower from a few paces away, just as the infant topples up and over, and his body seizes with fear as Moon leaps over the railing after him.

He hears a click, the wire latching out of sight, going taut. Sun holds his breath until the sound of giggling follows. Peering warily over the railing, hands shaking, he sees Moon dangling halfway to the floor. Little George bounces in his arms, clapping and cheering and laughing away like this is all just another game.

Moon lowers himself the remaining distance to the floor as Sun scrambles down the elevator to meet him. He looks rightfully shaken, his faceplate screen blank of even stars, but his grip remains persistent. He’s not going to risk putting the kid down for a moment, even if he feels like he’s going to bluescreen any second now. Their landing is celebrated with the undeniable sound of George taking the world’s largest shit, and though Moon wants to be angry, all he manages to come up with in response is “Me too, kid.”

A voice calls over their internal radios right as Sun’s feet hit the floor.

“Can someone ring the mascots?” Asks the employee, “I’m stationed at Shutterbug with a customer and she says they have her baby…?”

“I’m on my way!” Sun answers the radio aloud. He takes the baby from Moon, who extends George to him from a distance, grateful — now more than ever — for their ability to turn off their nose receptors.

“What about the footie?” Moon gestures to the dirt-soaked clothes once his hands are free. “I don’t think she’s going to be happy if he’s brought back all dirty – or naked. That might be worse.”

On a whim, Sun turns George over to check the footie’s tag. Relief floods his system when he reads the name. “We carry this brand – I’ll bet anything that we have this exact footie somewhere in the store. Can you go find it?” He makes a face and turns his own nose receptors off a moment after. “Maybe a pack of diapers, too,” he laughs. “Oh! Can you also pick up a rabbit from Fluff-&-Stuff?”

“What about you?”

“I’m headed to the bathrooms so I can clean the little guy up.” He holds George up, then, wielding him like a stinky little weapon. “Unless you want to try changing a diaper?”

“Navy blue footie with a white pocket, got it,” answers Moon, already turning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction.

-

Ten minutes later, Sun exits the bathroom feeling like a brand new person. A scarred, mortified person, but new all the same. Who knew baby poop could be so traumatizing?

Moon had returned a moment before, toting with him the items that Sun had requested, and together they figured out how to dress the freshly cleaned child in a new diaper. Whoever said it wasn’t rocket science was right. It was somehow worse. Still, they persevered, and at the end of it all they had a clean, happy, freshly diapered baby to show for their efforts. Now it was just a matter of delivering him back to his mother.

“Why did you want the rabbit?” Moon asks as he trades over the stuffed animal, happy to hold little George now that the little tike isn’t a stink grenade.

“You’ll see,” answers Sun, refusing to elaborate. He rounds the corner with Moon following at his heel and steps into Shutterbug, greeting the mother with his best customer-pleasing smile. “So sorry for the wait, ma’am. George here had a bit of an accident on our way back.”

The woman tuts guilty, but is happy to see them all the same. “Oh, goodness, how embarrassing. I can pay for the diapers you used.”

“Nonsense!” He tells her with a casual wave of his hand, “We’re happy to lend a hand, and it’s not like the little guy could help himself.”

“You’re a sweetheart,” she smiles. “And he behaved for you, otherwise?”

Sun glances over his shoulder at Moon, and the two share a look.

Nodding, Moon steps forward and hands the child over when his mother extends her arms for him. “He was an angel,” Moon tells her.

They had both already agreed to keep their mouths shut on the entire ordeal, including and up to George’s newfound capabilities. Aside from how much trouble they would both find themselves in if anyone ever found out about the chase this single child had put them through, it simply wasn’t their place to mention it. Sun, especially, didn’t want to take away that special moment when his mother rightfully deserved to have it to herself.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” she sighs with relief. “Thank you again for watching her. You two are a real blessing, you know that? I wouldn’t have been able to get all my ducks in a row without your help.”

“Anytime!” Sun answers. He spots a plaid dress hiding behind her, and lowers himself into a crouch. “Hello, again,” he calls to the little girl using his kindest voice, and extends the stuffed rabbit for her to take. “I noticed you had some bunnies on your dress, so I thought you might like this.”

Behind him, Moon relaxes into a fond smile.

“That’s very kind of you,” says her mother, who nudges her forward gently. “Go on, it’s okay,” she reassures her. “It’s a gift.”

The child hesitant, but eventually she peeks out from behind her mother just enough to take the offered rabbit, which she tucks against her chest in a great, big hug. “Th…Thank you,” she whispers. Then, feeling brave, she rewards him with a gap-toothed smile.

Moon clears his voice-box. “Well, we should let you get to it,” he says, full-well knowing that Sun would stay here cooing at the children all day if he let him.

And Sun, for what it’s worth, knows exactly what the vocal nudge means, and detaches himself from the family with a wave and some merry goodbyes before the two of them depart together.

“That was sweet of you,” Moon comments once they’re out of earshot. “You aren’t hoping for kids of our own, are you? I don’t think I’m ready for that level of commitment.” He elbows Sun with a smile, getting a hearty laugh out of him.

“Moon, I’ll be honest. I will be the happiest bot in the world if I never have to change another diaper again.” This time it’s Moon’s turn to laugh, and he laughs until his vocals strain with effort. “But, you know, it wasn’t too bad. Taking care of a baby, I mean. I think we make a pretty good team – and decent parents.”

“I’m the better parent,” Moon says around a wide grin. “You’re too much of a stick in the mud.”

“And you’re too spoiling!” Sun laughs, “Don’t think I haven’t seen you giving out candy to the kids that sneak off without their parents.”

“I’m teaching a valuable lesson,” Moon insists, hand flying over his heart like he’s offended by the notion. “If parents want to leave their children unattended, they have to face the consequences. It won’t be me dealing with the inevitable sugar rush.”

A gasp in the distance interrupts their playful bickering. They turn halfway, back towards Shutterbug. 

“Did you see that?” Chirps the mother, loud and clear. Her giddy voice followed immediately by the shutter of a camera. “Look – look! He’s walking!”

Again, the two share a look. Surprise becomes amusement becomes pride, then joy, and they laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

[stevens-pastrami-sandwich]

HAPPY 17TH ANNIVERSARY TO THE SHOW THAT CHANGED MY LIFE!! 🎉🥳🎂

So maybe I'm a bit late to the party.. but that's not important 🤫🫶

[udog]

I absolutely adore how you draw rito and especially Revali! I still can’t get enough of him no matter how much time has passed. I know it’s been a while since you last posted—be it because of life or art block, or both—but I still will offer you my sincerest gratification for the artwork you have deemed worthy enough for us to see! I hope the Rito in Tears of the Kingdom provide us with the same kind of “inspiration” (brain-rot) as in BotW. Even if Revali probably doesn’t make a big appearance; and possibly even Harth as well 😩

this was 😭 so nice to come back to HWUEUFHEJEEHEB THANK YOU 🥹 revali may not be in totk but hey at least harth is ‼️‼️ I have. bigger issues with another particular rito that isn't in totk though 😒

sorry all I could provide was a messy sketch ‼️ idk it probably has to do with reagan 🤥

[askthepaldeanpassenger]

(@askanotslownotking) Catherine: The Dragonite stands in a calm manner while holding her hands together. "W-Would you two like some help getting to your destination? I'm willing to help you deal with any aggressive Pokémon, if it ever comes to that."

"No, that will not be necessary. Maria certainly had the more difficult portion of the trip, and she made more progress than we would have expected. What remains will bring no issue to me."

"Nevertheless, your generosity will not be forgotten. Should you ever find yourself in trouble around these parts, invoke the name 'Cyranne Persa of the Matan Family'. That should, at the very least, earn you a chance to escape unscathed."

@askanotslownotking

[spinnysocks]

heyooo spinny :D which outlander and which outlander group do you think you’d get along with the most?

ooooh,, i think i'd get along great with jasiri's clan because they're so nice, especially the cubs! i'd love to babysit them!! i would babysit dogo and kijana too even though they'd probably be way more than i could handle XD

i'd love to say i'd get along with kiburi but that's being hopeful 😭 i could make friends with tamka, nduli and the rest of the idiots though! they'd be really fun to be around :p

and i come from the same lands the vultures do, one with a parliament and all, so maybe i could relate to them in that way :3

[souenkun]

Life update: my brain feels like scrambled eggs but I've also started going on short walks with my cat, and it turns out to be a nice routine. Apologies to messages and ao3 comments that I haven't been able to reply; I'll get to them soon! 🫂

[girlscience]

I hate getting into something that has a canon(ish) sapphic couple, but I only end up caring about one of the two women 😭😭😭