#if you have noticed a pattern no you didn’t

[agent-tangerine]

Noticed a trend (which I went through myself) where after being raised in a high control church, being taught basic Christian apologetics… we leave the faith and deconstruct the faith but it takes time to deconstruct the patterns of how we were taught to argue. We apply the same pattern and style of argument and processing to a different dogma. Many of my friends have left the church to say the same shit that the church said to us, just different dogma. We need to deconstruct how we still apply apologetic style arguments and approaches. I feel like the angry Reddit atheist feels like an outdated thing in my head, but the anger after you leave is very real.

The Audre Lorde essay and wuote “the masters tools will never dismantle the master’s house” idk I do see a pattern yhat won’t be broken until we face the human susceptibility to religious or non religious apologetics and fallacies. And to ignore our vulnerability, and the o not challenge it and change keeps us trapped.

This is to say it’s not universal, but it is an observation I’ve had with myself since leaving what my therapist calls “a cult” 18 years ago. And I’ve observed it in my friends and family who have left (usually it’s a phase, but many linger there for a while)

Some people left really atrocious religions/churches, some have had no exposure to religious dogma like that. Even if you didn’t grow up in it, everyone should be examining these styles of arguments in themselves, what conclusions we each come to idk. Religous or not, these are impacting all of us. But it is something we should examine in our own reactions.

I feel bad because even writing this I feel as though I should shut up. I. The end this is just a guess. A passing observation I’ve tried to share but have been shut down for sharing before.

So, you know how certain Christian missionaries are trained to act in a very obnoxious way, so that most people they preach to will reject them outright, so they feel like the world hates them for being Christian and they can only be friends with fellow Christians? You know that thing?

I think as activists, we sometimes need to stop and ask ourselves whether we're acting like those missionaries. I think this type of behavior is a little more ingrained into our society than some of us realize, and some of us have internalized it without realizing what it's actually meant to do.

[benispunk]

Ticklish

logan howlett x reader

Maybe you discovered Logan was ticklish. Maybe you used it to your advantage.

TW: it's pure fluff, it's a little bit funny and the end is a tiny bit suggestive. let's just say Christmas came early this year...this was written this morning when I woke up and it's fully inspired by my own post

Masterlist

Every morning before getting out of bed, you and Logan had a quiet ritual. These stolen moments of peace were rare in the chaos of the mansion, where every day brought new missions, training, or too many kids running around. It was the one time you could just be. No responsibilities, no noise— just the two of you.

This morning was no different. Your head rested on Logan's chest, his fingers combing gently through your hair, while your hand traced slow, lazy patterns on his chest. It was a small act of intimacy, but one you both cherished.

Lost in the rhythm, your hand absently wandered lower, brushing against his side. Suddenly, Logan jerked like he'd been electrocuted. His entire body tensed, and he shifted away so abruptly that you sat up, startled.

“Logan, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laced your voice as you reached for him.

He cleared his throat, his usual gruff tone tinged with embarrassment. “Nah, you didn’t hurt me. Just… don’t do that.”

You blinked, confusion evident on your face. “Don’t touch your sides?” You tilted your head, studying him as if trying to solve a puzzle. He refused to meet your gaze, instead settling back into bed and opening his arms to you, clearly ready to move on.

“Come here. We don’t have much time left before breakfast,” he said, his voice low and coaxing.

But you didn’t move. The way he avoided eye contact and the faint flush on his cheeks told you there was more to this. You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Logan…”

“Don’t,” he warned, catching the glint of mischief sparking in your eyes.

You smirked. “Are you… ticklish?”

The look of horror that crossed his face confirmed everything. He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, but the threatening tone only made you laugh.

“Oh my god, you are!” you exclaimed, grinning like a kid who just uncovered a juicy secret.

“I mean it, sweetheart. You’ll regret it.” His expression was deadly serious, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Still laughing, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Logan. I’m not going to tickle you. It was an accident— I didn’t know!”

He gave you a skeptical glance, clearly trying to decide whether you were trustworthy. After a tense moment, he let out a heavy sigh and opened his arms again. You nestled back against his chest, your fingers returning to their absent-minded pattern-drawing. His hand resumed its place in your hair, but his body remained slightly tense, like a predator waiting for an ambush.

The silence stretched comfortably for a few minutes before your curiosity got the better of you. “How did I never realize you were ticklish?”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Because it’s a secret, and I’m careful. You’re lucky you caught me off guard.”

You laughed softly, your breath warm against his chest. “You know, I can keep a secret… but I can also use it against you if I want.”

His hand froze in your hair, and you felt his heartbeat quicken just slightly beneath your ear. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” You tilted your head up, giving him your best innocent smile.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but when your hand wandered dangerously close to his side again, he didn’t notice until it was too late. Your fingers pinched his ribs lightly, and the sound that escaped his mouth—a startled yelp—was priceless.

“Y/N!” he growled, but he was already moving. In the blink of an eye, you were flat on your back, your wrists pinned above your head as he loomed over you.

“What was that little scream you just did?” you teased, bursting into laughter as he glared down at you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he rumbled, his tone low and menacing, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips told you he was more amused than angry.

“Well, in that case…” You grinned up at him, eyes gleaming with defiance. “Maybe I should do that more often.”

Logan shook his head, clearly trying to hold onto his serious facade, but it crumbled under the weight of your laughter. The corners of his mouth twitched before he finally broke, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss that left you breathless.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered over yours, his voice gravelly and teasing. “You sure you want to keep playing? Because I’ve got other ways to make you behave.”

You arched a brow, your smirk never wavering. “Oh? Like what?”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and before you could blink, he nipped at your bottom lip, making you gasp. His hands trailed down your sides, slow and deliberate, his touch feather-light but enough to send a shiver through you.

“Keep testing me, darlin’,” he murmured, his tone dripping with suggestion. “You might not make it to breakfast at all.”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back a grin. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

His smirk widened as he leaned closer, his voice a whisper against your ear. “Good. Because breakfast can wait.”

XXX

[look-at-the-soul]

Hi, Mar!! Following your idea, I'm sending you a question too, to celebrate this anniversary! 🔟❤️

You have the chance to give Tommy one (1) gift. But this gift is from this century, something that not existed back in 1900. What would you like to give him? 🤔

Flor I’ve to start this apologizing for taking forever to reply I’m so sorry!

At first you caught me off guard and I didn’t know what to give him because he already has it all, or he has an easy access to everything (almost) and then time flew but suddenly I had an ide of something that would touch his heart ♥️ Thank you a million times for sending in this ask!

I finally found the perfect gift for Tommy and I turned it into a little story 🎄I got the inspiration from a one shot I did back in the day so this would be like “their present day” “The Photoshoot”

****

It’s not about the gifts under the tree

Y/N stood in a corner next to the fireplace whilst everyone focused on their Christmas presents. They had full house, Ada had her Spotify playlist on, the kids enjoying the moment thrilled about the last adventure of the elf on the shelf and Santa’s presents.

And of course there was the empty chairs, the people who had passed away. And Y/N noticed that ever since Polly wasn’t around anymore it was taking a toll on Tommy, they were one, their bond was so profound, at another level… they understood each other completely.

“I think there was a present missing under the tree.” Y/N whispered presenting her boyfriend a box.

That caught Tommy’s attention, he hadn’t seen that box before, it was wrapped in a delicate deep red fancy paper with reindeers silhouettes as pattern.

“Love you didn’t have to give me anything.” It was strange for him the feeling of getting presents, when he was just a boy his parents didn’t have a lot of money to spend on gifts so he grew up with that feeling that it wasn’t necessary spend money on him, all the contrary because he went above and beyond for everyone.

“I know, but I wanted you to have this, so why don’t you hurry up and open it?” She encouraged softly, eager to see his reaction.

It was a big box with several boxes inside, there was a frown in Tommy’s forehead. Y/N bit her lower lip in an attempt to conceal her excitement.

As he ripped the white and gold paper, Tommy found a portrait that when he turned it around, he found a photograph in color of his beloved mother.

Time froze and his heart returned to normal as his fingers touched his mother’s features.

“How…” a million questions crossed his mind just as tears blurred his vision.

Y/N came around to circle him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Months before passing away, Polly gave me a few boxes of photographs, she thought I’d know what to do with it.

“I remember this photo, but it was damaged and it was in black and white.” Tommy choked, taking a deep breath to try to keep his emotions at bay.

“I edited it love, deleted the stains and colored the photo.” Y/N explained.

“Thank you.” He was fighting hard the lump installed in his throat.

Because as he took another box, he found a small album filled with Polaroids of pictures he had never seen before. His mother appeared in a couple dressed in a light blue dress in what seemed like her birthday celebration.

And before he could even ask Y/N how or when she got those, she whispered with a smile. “Found them in one of the boxes, then I learned how to convert film negatives into digital photos.”

Tommy couldn’t find the words to thank her for her thoughtful gift. Those photographs held memories of his loved ones, the only link he had to his keen and his past, and somehow she brought it back to life.

One by one, he revisited his past, his background through each Polaroid. And that was priceless.”There’s something else at the bottom.” Y/N pointed out when she noticed Tommy’s eyes were fixed on his mother portrait.

He blinked and looked at her in confusion. More? As if this wasn’t enough?

To his surprise, there was something else, a frame.

But it wasn’t any frame, Y/N plugged it and it came to life, showing Tommy a digital image of him and his mother.

“I might have used Photoshop a bit.” She explained nervously because of his silence.

The edited image showed him next to his mother and a blurred background, and making it look as if they got their picture taken together. His heart skipped a beat and suddenly another image appeared. It was Polly this time, a fabulous photo of her on her wedding day.

And so on many more images he had never seen filled the screen. He was mesmerized and shocked at the same time.

“This is the best present you could ever get me.” His words were full of gratitude. How could he ever top this?”How did you do that?”

Tommy asked so emotional when he saw an animated version of his mother, she was smiling at the camera, then looked away and finally she looked up in the sky laughing.

“I put together the series of photos I found, turned it into a video and looks like she’s moving.”

“Come here.” He pleaded, not finding the right words to thank her.

This wasn’t their first Christmas together, but it was definitely different. After been living together for almost a year, Y/N deserved the world, she had been so supportive after the sudden passing of his beloved aunt, she had been a wonderful step mother to Charlie, she practically took charge of everything to make this gathering for his family for Christmas to try to make it smoother for everyone specially the children.

Taking her hand, he placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles, his eyes saying more than his lips could.

Over the course of their relationship, she had been in charge of immortalizing several family portraits and important events like birthdays, holidays, school milestones… she loved it and to have a piece from his past as well captured in digital photographs was so important to her.

“Rose sent the Christmas card earlier.” Y/N added in an attempt to lighten the emotions he was going through.

“How could I miss it if you left it on my desk?” It was a family photograph Y/N took of her best friend Rose, her fiancé Alfie and their dog Cyril.

A soft giggle escaped her lips, their teasing would never end.

“I also happen to have another present for you.” Tommy added after a minute.

“Dad, Y/N look here.” Charlie interrupted their conversation, he was waving the instant camera she gave him and the kid had been snapping Polaroids of everyone.

“Charlie bring me my phone please.” Tommy asked pointing at the other side of the room. While his son skipped happily moving up and down the photo he took, he returned with a smile and handed the phone. “Show Y/N the wallet app.”

“What’s this?” Y/N was trying to process what she found on the screen.

“We’re going to Scotland tomorrow love, to spend New Year with your grandmother.” Tommy explained running his hand up and down Y/N’s back.

Now it was her turn to feel emotional over the gift she just got. Her grandma couldn’t travel anymore and she wasn’t in position to host a big party, but Tommy organized everything to spend a few days with her.

Leaning on his shoulder, she wrapped an arm around his neck, her free hand inviting Charlie as well. To them it wasn’t about the presents under the Christmas tree, but the people around it.

Thank you again so much for reading! Remember your feedback is the best gift you could give 🎄♥️✨🥰

Blurbs

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney

@gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan

@stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts

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@everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee

@mythicalcowboyatheart @jbrownta @outlanderuniverse

[kumabeom]

mistletoe - beomgyu

summary : beomgyu spends the entirety of yeonjun’s christmas party trying to get you under the mistletoe with him.

warnings : 1.2k words, AGAIN NOT PROOFREAD, beomgyu gets annoyed at yeonjun who is plotting a revenge plan

it was rare for beomgyu to have some sort of annoyance targeted towards yeonjun. typically, it was the other way around, usually, beomgyu was the one who attempted to make yeonjun get riled up. it was never the other way around. in fact, beomgyu woke up feeling rather happy today. he woke up, spent a bit of time to himself, then got ready to attend yeonjun’s christmas party. once he was ready, he went to go pick you up.

when he picked you up, god, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. in fact, he was so ready to drop the whole party thing just to stay in with you. unfortunately it just wasn’t a party that he could sit out. especially if it was his bestfriend’s party, not to mention how you helped pick a gift out for him and now you were so excited to see and hear yeonjuns reaction.

so when the two of you arrived at yeonjun’s house, seeing all the mistletoes placed in doorways, beomgyu had one goal. he needed to get you underneath one of those mistletoes and kiss you. it wasn’t a want, it was a need.

the first time that beomgyu sent a death stare right into yeonjun’s back was the second that he saw you right within the doorframe, beomgyu started to make his way over to you, noticing the way that you seemed to be looking around for him. eyes glistening even brighter than ever when you caught sight of him, excitedly calling him over. but beomgyu took one look above you and watched as yeonjun removed the mistletoe from behind, sticking his tongue out at beomgyu. your excitement still on full display as you missed yeonjun’s devious act. although you noticed beomgyu’s gradual decline in attitude, looking up and noticing that the mistletoe was completely gone. walking over to beomgyu and still placing a kiss on his lip.. the issue lied in the fact that beomgyu wanted to kiss you under the mistletoe.. not just anywhere else, he always had time to kiss you, but a kiss under the mistletoe was special.

the second time that beomgyu got annoyed was when the two of you were finally underneath the mistletoe at the same time, lips about to meet, when yeonjun happened to bump into beomgyu, moving him completely to the side and leaving yeonjun under the mistletoe with you. of course, yeonjun wasn’t that messed up to actually mess around with your relationship. so he just patted your shoulder and kept moving, attending to other guests that he had over. beomgyu felt furious, and to make matters worse, yeonjun removed the mistletoe. again.

the third time was beomgyu’s last and final straw, deciding to grab a mistletoe that yeonjun had hung up, stuffing it into his pocket. and when he felt the time was right, he pulled it out right above the two of you. although, you made a bit of a mistake and you hadn’t realized what he was doing until yeonjun already had a hold of the stolen mistletoe.

this all caused beomgyu to get rather upset, and at this point something in his gut was telling him that you were in on it too! how could it have taken you so long to realize there was a literal mistletoe hanging above the two of you! and when he got pushed out of the way by yeonjun, why didn’t you cling onto his arm so that yeonjun’s small shove wouldn’t have impacted him in the way it did! oh he was just so furious, you noticed his change in demeanor throughout the night. he easily recovered from the first accident, hoping that it was going to be the last one of the night. but as he noticed the reoccurring pattern, he only got more upset.

the two of you were standing there, together, arm in arm as you watched yeonjun and a few of his friends take shots, giving cheers to a merry and jolly christmas. although at this point, beomgyu couldn’t even handle to look at yeonjun in the eyes. he couldn’t even look at you in the eyes and he wasn’t even sure why! maybe he was still conspiring this theory against you, but he just felt so annoyed, it started to blind his rational thinking.

you watched as he suddenly barged out, leaving you stranded by yourself. you truly did feel guilty, especially for the way that you could’ve prevented some of these from happening. you took a look at yeonjun and he nodded as he passed you a mistletoe, one that used to be hanging but he took down due to beomgyu’s attempt to kiss you. you thanked him for it, exiting the loud crowd and finally basking in silence, you found beomgyu sitting on yeonjun’s porch. taking a seat next to him as he let out a sigh.

“all done with your boyfriend.” he commented, you knew he didn’t mean it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. you truly hadn’t known that beomgyu was going to end up so upset at what yeonjun told you was his plan of revenge for all the annoyance that beomgyu had given him.

“are you gonna dump me..?” you innocently asked, knowing how you were going to approach his previous comment.

“no..” he muttered, picking at the stupid flowers yeonjun had outside of his home. beomgyu wasn’t even sure how he found a random flower when it was the middle of winter.

“then of course i’m not.. i love my boyfriend even when he gets a little mad.. but he makes me the happiest in the world.” you couldn’t help but giggle, a smile finally breaking on beomgyu’s face as he turned over to look at you, only barely realizing that you had no sweater on, the cold hitting you all at once.

“are you insane ! why’d you come out here with no jacket on ! you’re going to get sick !” he quickly removed his own puffer jacket, enveloping you in his warmth. you smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek, as you innocently pointed to your own puffer jacket that was sitting on yeonjun’s lawn chair. you put it there hoping that it would encourage beomgyu to walk over to you, which it did. what he also didn’t notice was the mistletoe hanging over his head. one that you had placed above him right before he had turned to look at you. he watched as you moved the direction of your finger from your jacket to the plant hanging right above the two of you.

placing your hands carefully on his cheeks and pulling him gently into a kiss. which he gladly returned, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, while the other was holding a spot on your waist. he loved this, he loved you.

all he ever wanted was to make a memorable christmas special for you and he really needed to make it happen. it was needless to say that beomgyu was always a romantic person, so obviously he just needed to complete his goal.

“-wanna go inside..?” you asked, removing beomgyu’s jackets and placing it back around his shoulders, grabbing yours off of yeonjun’s chair and placing it around you. you turned to look at beomgyu but he was waving you over, innocent smile on his face. you walked over, knowing exactly what it was that he wanted, pressing one more kiss on his lips as you walked underneath the mistletoe

“i wanna go home and watch a movie with you..”

©️kumabeom

permanent taglist : @run2seob @soobadooba @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz @tinyelfperson @strwbrrykthv @bloomngspring

[vampyastro]

𝕬𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖔 𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖕𝖙 𝟛

✐ ✧Common birth chart placements of famous writers✧ ✐

Hey everyone! I am someone who loves reading and writing so I decided to look into some of my favorite authors birth charts and find common placements amongst them that could indicate being a good writer. Of course there are other placements in a birth chart that can indicate this (I researched a lot of writers charts and of course not all of them have these placements), I just thought it was interesting to see these the common placements amongst prominent writers. If there are any writers you know of that have these placements feel free to let me know!

✐ I’ve noticed a lot of famous male writers have Gemini moons, meanwhile famous female writers have Libra moons.

✐ Gemini Moons: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Franz Kafka, Charles Baudelaire, J.D. Salinger, T.S Eliot

✐ Libra Moons: Sylvia Plath, Maya Angelou, Jane Austen, Emily Dickinson, Agatha Christie, Louise Gluck

✐ Mercury is also another indicator of whether someone is a good writer. Mercury is the planet of communication, thinking patterns, mentality, reasoning/rational, etc. The authors Mercury sign can sometimes reflect the topics they write about. For instance, Oscar Wilde is a Scorpio Mercury and he wrote a lot about death, transformation, mystery and the fall from grace.

✐ Scorpio Mercury: Oscar Wilde, Sylvia Plath, Arthur Miller, Mark Twain

✐ Sagittarius Mercury: Albert Camus, Louisa May Alcott, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Charles Baudelaire, Christina Rossetti, Jane Austen, Emily Dickinson, Louise Gluck

✐ Writers usually tend to have prominent 10th house placements. Many planets in the 10th house can represent authority, being career oriented and success. Most often I’ve seen Saturn be in many of these writers houses, which makes sense because many of these individuals had tough lives and preserved through many challenges in order to gain the success they had. Some died without even knowing how successful they were or the legacy they left on the world. Specifically Franz Kafka, he had Mars, Saturn, Neptune and Chiron in the 10th house. Kafka died thinking he was a failure, his writings didn’t reach their peak popularity until many years after his death.

✐ Other writers with prominent 10th house placements include:

Christina Rossetti (Moon, Saturn), Emily Dickinson (Saturn, North Node), Agatha Christie (Venus), Arthur Miller (Mars, Saturn, Neptune), Mary Shelley (Pluto), Oscar Wilde (Saturn), Ernest Hemingway (Neptune, Pluto), Shakespeare (Mercury, Pluto)

✐ Overall in my findings, I noticed that many writers I researched have multiple Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Gemini and Sagittarius placements in their charts.

-Side note, he’s not necessarily a writer, although he did write books; Sigmund Freud is a Gemini moon and Scorpio rising. I think that is very interesting lol.

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰! *:･ﾟ✧

𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓮! ♡

P.s Let me know if you’re interested in more posts like this. I can do famous musicians, artists, psychologists, etc :) Also, thank you for all the support on my last two posts! 🫶🏻

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Just Call My Name

Part 2 to Kiss- Don't Tell

Cassian/Azriel

Word Count - 4.7k

Summary - After an unsuccesful night out at Rita's, a tipsy Azriel can't stop thinking about his previous shared night with Cassian

Warnings - intoxication and talk of alcohol, friends don't let friends fly druink, smutty M/M goodness, graphic descriptions of sex, biting and scratching, Az has a secret praise kink

Author's Notes - this part 2 was requested by a wonderful anon (sorry it took me so long). So anon - I hope you enjoy. Consider this my Solstice present just for you. As usual thanks to @tsunami-of-tears for the dividers, my lovely divider queen.

Azriel pressed his back harder into the wall behind him, slinking even further into the shadows that were clinging to this corner of the bar. His sharp hazel eyes wandered over the crowd, ever the Spymaster, always scanning his surroundings.

Rita’s wasn’t as lively as it would have been on a weekend. The weeknight crowd was still raucous but more sparse than the usual bunch. Cloaking himself further into the darkness, Az obscured himself from view. No one seemed to notice though. He caught sight of his friends having fun among the crowd, neither one of them bothering to worry about Azriel and his moodiness. 

Rhysand was in the center of the dance floor, a gorgeous blonde attached to his front, her slender hands skimming over his chest as they swayed to the heavy beat of the music. Leaning closer, Rhys smoothly tucked her hair behind her ear before lowering his mouth and whispering something. Whatever it was must have been delightfully funny as the blonde threw her head back in laughter, exposing her neck to the High Lord. Az watched his friend’s eyes darken with a predatory gleam, like an animal stalking his prey. 

Across the long bar, Azriel’s eyes tracked down his other companion. Cassian was perched atop one of the barstools, muscled arms on full display in his sleeveless tunic. A lithe and lovely brunette was leaning flirtatiously close to him, just close enough to assume they were together but not touching. Just like the blonde, she too found something hilarious about whatever he said, tossing her long hair over her shoulder as she giggled. 

The pattern of behavior from both women intrigued Az. The laughter, the subtle shows of flirting, Cassian’s tight smile in response, his laughter that sounded forced instead of its usual freely released sound. Surely Cas had spotted better prospects among the crowd if he was holding back on this beauty. Interesting, but not enough to stick around and dissect. 

He supposed now was as good a time as any considering both his friends had found someone else to occupy their time. With a flick of his hand, the shadows dispersed and revealed himself to the room once more, just long enough to flag down the bartender so he could pay his tab. The thought of falling into the quiet solace of his own bed blessedly alone didn’t give Azriel the satisfaction he was hoping for. Instead it sent a strangely uncomfortable ripple through his gut.

Tossing the feeling aside, he attributed it to his rather hefty consumption of alcohol before promptly cloaking himself once more in shadow and slipping through the crowd into the cold night.

The rather stunning brunette leaned into Cassian once more as she laughed merrily at his latest quip. He hardly noticed the long line of her neck as she tossed her hair more obviously this time, instead finding himself staring into his drink trying to remember what she had said her name was. 

Was it Phaedre? Or maybe Dierdre?

He couldn’t recall. Her shoulder casually brushing against his shook him from his thoughts but it was the slender hand that landed perfectly on his large thigh under the bar that had him shifting uncomfortably. 

He had kept his body centered toward the bar during the entirety of their conversation hoping that maybe his refusal to face her would be hint enough without being outright rude. It seemed however that she wasn’t picking up on his signals.

“Your drink is looking awfully empty there,” she commented smoothly as she flagged down the bartender from the other end of the bar. 

“Ah, well, it’s for the best,” Cas remarked as he drained the last swig of his drink. “I really should be cutting myself off.”

“Oh c’mon!” she wailed pitifully with an exaggerated pout. “It’s still early. Live a little!”

The playful nudge of her body against his did little to sway his decision. As the bartender approached, he ordered another of her fruity drinks but slid his own empty glass across the bar and signaled for the tab.

“Early to bed, early to rise as they say. Can’t keep looking this good being hungover all the time.” A subtle flex of his bicep had her giggling all over again, her hands roaming over the exposed muscles. “Besides, I should really be getting my friends home. One of them didn’t seem to be having a great time before I lost sight of him in the crowd.”

“Suit yourself,” she said icily with another flick of her long hair. Grabbing her free drink from the bar top, she popped the cherry into her mouth and sauntered off. Cassian almost felt bad that she had wasted all her time vying for his attention all night when it was obvious she could have landed any other male she pleased. 

Rolling his shoulders and releasing the guilt, he tipped the bartender handsomely and made his way through the crowd towards the door. 

Reaching the sidewalk just outside the door to Rita’s, Cas quickly noted his lack of sleeves or a coat. He almost chuckled aloud at the irony of wanting to show off his chiseled arms earlier in the night and now leaving very much alone. 

Stuffing his hands deeper into his leather’s pockets, he scanned ahead on the sidewalk and caught sight of Az further down the block. He hadn’t expected to actually be able to catch up to Azriel but judging by the way he was weaving over the cobblestones, Cassian couldn't say he was surprised. 

“Hey,” Cas hollered as he jogged to catch up. “Sneaking off so soon?”

The sudden voice behind Az in the nearly still Velaris night startled him out of whatever reverie he had been in. Just as his head swiveled to find the source, his foot slipped off the edge of the curb, rolling his ankle and sending him sideways. Azriel’s wings flared in an attempt to steady himself but it was the two calloused hands gripping around his upper arm that saved him from his descent. 

“Whoa there,” Cas laughed. “Allow me to escort you home, Spymaster.” With a firm tug, Az was yanked back up onto the walkway and set straight again.

Even in his liquor-addled mind, Azriel still quickly noted how this sound was different than the one he witnessed earlier. Less restrained, more free. Az scoffed as he shoved his shoulder into Cas, more to dismiss the fixation over his laugh than anything else.

“Where’s your date?,” he mumbled.

“Oh, her?” A sly smile bloomed as Cassian cocked an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure she was just trying to make Rhys jealous for picking the blonde over her. I don’t think she was that into me.”

A short singular grunt was all that came from Az in response as they continued their way over the cobblestones. Just a few strides further in silence and another misstep left Az reeling for balance as he tripped over his own foot. Once again it was Cassian’s reflexes that saved him. Bare arms snapped out in a fraction of a second and gripped his shoulders like a vice. 

“Ok, I’ve seen enough,” Cas admonished with a lopsided smile. Moving himself around his friend, he planted himself directly in front of Azriel, all the while his hands remained firmly holding him upright. 

Once he was satisfied that Az wasn’t going to topple forward without a bracing hand, Cas held his arms out in front of him as if carrying an invisible load. “Jump up, pretty boy.”

No sly smile or ringing laugh followed the command. Cas waited expectantly for Az to follow through. 

“I’m fine,” Az grumbled. Since his friend was insisting on blocking the way forward, he attempted to dodge past him, swerving more aggressively than he intended. 

“You can’t even walk in a straight line,” Cas noted as one of his muscled arms braced itself across Azriel’s chest. “I’d hate to see you try to fly in one.”

The normally stoic face of the shadowsinger quickly showed the annoyance that was bubbling its way to the surface. “I’ll grab a room at the inn then,” he spat out as he swiveled around to walk in the opposite direction.

“Oh c’mon, Azzy,” Cas sing-songed from alongside him as he trailed Az in the same direction. “It’s not like I’ve never carried you princess style before.”

Az didn’t even need to glance over at the male’s face to know that the sly grin had made a reappearance but he did hear the barely swallowed chuckle that nearly escaped Cassian’s throat.

That noise, though halted, is what caused that annoyance from a bubble to a flare. “I was grievously injured,” he gritted through his teeth. 

“Injured. Drunk. What’s the difference?” Once again, Cas’s muscled arm braced over him, this time across his back. Az couldn’t say that he wasn’t grateful for the steadying presence this time as he felt the ground beneath him begin to tilt once more. 

“Besides,” Cas continued. “Do you really want to toss and turn in a bed not even meant for wings when you can have your own luxurious one in just a matter of minutes?” A smooth spread of his own webbed wings punctuated his point.

Azriel halted midstep and considered his options. It was true that the beds at the inn weren’t built for the hulking frames of Illyrians, much less the wings. The desire from earlier in the night to find solace in his own bed pulsed back to life, this time without the same uncomfortable rolling sensation in his gut. 

I’m not going home alone after all. I’m going home with Cassian. That thought however produced a wildly different sensation. One that was quickly shaken from Azriel’s head.

“Fine,” he growled. “But not a word about it afterwards.”

Cas didn’t even wait for Az to finish his statement before scooping him up into the cradle of his arms and settling his heavy frame against the hard muscle of his body. 

“And watch the wings,” Azriel grumbled as he shifted the appendages into a tight tuck against his back. 

“Certainly, darling,” Cas teased lightly. “Just hold any hurling until we land, alright?”

The jarring force of the kickoff rattled through Azriel’s head. The alcohol of the evening seemed to be catching up to him quicker especially now that he was in the air and gaining altitude. Screwing his eyes shut, Az quelled that noxious feeling that the world would just start spinning rapidly beneath them. The cold wind whipping against his face rallied his senses into something resembling normalcy, as long as he didn’t peer over the arms that carried him to the ground far far below. 

Choosing not to focus on the movement of their bodies through the sky, Azriel instead honed in on the chill seeping into his body on one side and the warmth permeating from Cassian on the other. Eyes closed and the silence of the sky surrounding them, Az couldn’t help but allow his head to settle peacefully into the nook of Cassian’s shoulder.

The lull was broken by a sudden short dip in flight. Azriel’s hand moved instinctually to grip at the front of Cassian’s shirt.

“Sorry,” Cas grunted apologetically with a chuckle. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had a passenger of your stature.”

Azriel didn’t respond, his face still hovering so closely to Cassian’s neck that he could see his throat bob as he swallowed. His hand remained where it landed, still grasping the fabric against Cassian’s hard chest. Az’s gaze traveled up from the hard planes of muscle beneath fabric to the side of his neck once more, landing on the peek of collarbone that was revealed. The sudden urge to drag the tip of his nose along that slender protrusion was nearly overwhelming. He leaned in without thinking, holding back at the last second and inhaling Cas’s scent deeply instead. 

Another dip, this time a slow controlled descent followed by the reverberations of feet meeting stone. Cassian stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, unmoving. His arms still bearing the weight of the warrior within them and he made no effort to rid himself of his cargo. For a moment he considered continuing into the confines of the house and carrying his presumably sleeping friend to bed, until he felt the subtle shift of Azriel’s hand.

Releasing his hold along Cas’s shirt, Az slowly dragged his hand over the swell of muscle beneath. Ridged fingers glided smoothly over cloth to the exposed skin of his neck. The heat no longer held back by a shirt, Azriel felt it flood through his palm at just the same time that he noticed the pulse beneath picking up speed.

Feeling Az’s head lifting from his shoulder, Cassian swiveled his glance to meet his gaze. The motion pressed his thrumming pulse harder into the palm still settled there and his breath hitched in his chest. 

Slowly peeling his eyes open and meeting the glittered ones above him, Azriel paused for a fraction of a moment. “Cas?” He intoned softly.

Without a response and with a gentle bend of the knee, Cassian lowered his frame and righted Azriel to his feet, hands hovering a moment in case he swayed. 

The hand along his neck slipped but not before a testing swipe of scarred thumb along his stubbled jawline. So subtle in fact that Cassian questioned internally whether it was intentional or not. He didn’t leave himself time to decide, his hand moved of its own accord to catch the one dropping back down to Az’s side, slowing its fall and allowing his fingers to intertwine briefly before they returned to their respective owners. 

Azriel didn’t drop his eyes or turn to move toward the house. Cas remained steadfast, rooted on the spot, staring back into those eyes hazy with inebriation. Or was it something else?

“You should get some sleep, Az.” He said roughly, like gravel in his throat.

Neither Illyrian made the first move, the suggestion hanging in the air between them as Cassian watched that haze drift through Azriel’s eyes before realizing it wasn’t inebriation. 

Just as Az opened his mouth to speak, whether in protest or plea, Cassian didn’t let him finish. 

“It’s – “ he swallowed thickly. “It’s not a good idea. Not right now.”

Clearing his throat abruptly, Az jerked his shoulder sharply toward the direction of the house as he turned to head inside. “Yeah. Sleep. Of course, you’re right.”

The shadows along his shoulders began to gather thickly as Azriel walked off into the entrance hall. 

Again, Cassian’s hand moved of its own volition without thought and caught his wrist. “You’ve been drinking.” Not a statement but an apology. 

His movement halted by the digits encircling his arm, Az said nothing. One half hearted pull against the restraint and he was released before immediately allowing the shadows to engulf him and disappearing.

In the confines of his own room the air felt colder, despite the roaring fire already lit by the house, presumably ever since their presence had been detected on the balcony. Azriel stood there watching the flames mulling over the thoughts that barraged his mind. 

You’ve been drinking. 

Now in the quiet of his room, Azriel was no longer sure whether it had been an apology or an excuse to let him down gently. 

Maybe the last time was just that. The last time. 

Az felt his skin flush hot at the memories that invaded. Cassian’s hands on his skin. Their mouths drinking each other in deeply. The feel of their hands meeting over their most sensitive areas. 

He shook the whirring thoughts from his mind as he kicked off his remaining clothes, briefly considering a bath to relax his mind before ultimately deciding that sleep was the better choice. Hopeful that the oblivion of slumber would claim him quickly in his altered state, Azriel flopped into bed. 

He didn’t even bother with pulling back the covers and tucking himself into the sheets. With the roaring fire and the alcohol still working its magic in his bloodstream, he was more than warm enough. Stretched out on his stomach, he punched his pillow into a more comfortable place and spread his wings in relaxation spanning the entirety of the bed. 

Maybe it was disgust. The thought prodded at him as he attempted to fall asleep, pulling the memory of Cassian’s face to the front of his mind in order to dissect it. He couldn’t help the maelstrom that was stirring, the thoughts swirling faster and faster beyond his control.

Closing his eyes, rolling onto his side, staring at the ceiling - nothing helped. Azriel tossed and turned until finally he pulled himself from bed and into the bathroom. After drinking an impressive amount of water he splashed his face straight from the tap. As he returned to bed, he left the faelight burning over the sink and the bathroom door open, allowing the soft warm light to spread into the room. Hoping maybe it would work to chase away the thoughts and invite sleep much like it did as a child when he believed there were monsters under his bed. 

He fell into bed once more, this time staring at the patterns of light streaming across the ceiling. The warmth that the light brought to the room wasn’t the warmth he was wanting.

Several hours later, Az padded his way into the bathroom once more. His shadows had given up on soothing him long ago and had found their place scattered over the expanse of the bottom of the bed, weary and still in their own form of slumber. 

Sleep had evaded Azriel however, and as he stood before the mirror and scrubbed his hands over his face once more in exasperation, he saw the evidence clearly on his face. Tossing and turning all night had left him with heavy lids and bloodshot eyes staring back at himself - tired but sober. 

Sober.

Before another creeping bloom of a thought could reach its tendrils into his mind, he turned and stormed from the room. The shift in his energy and flurry of movement bolted his shadows into wakefulness as they zoomed out the door after him.

Reaching the door down the hall, his hand reached out and turned the handle before he could even consider pausing and rethinking. 

The shadows slipped through the door before it was fully opened and now they hovered, swirling silently over the form upon the bed before him, a sleeping hulk of Illyrian warrior. Cassian didn’t stir from the gentle caress of those dark tendrils over exposed skin. 

“Cas?” Az queried into the dark, barely above a whisper.

Even in its hushed tone the sound of his name crashed through the haze of sleep and jolted him awake.

“Az?” Cassian answered, worry bleeding into his voice as he shoved himself up to sit. 

The only answer in the darkness of his room was the shuffling of wings and feet. Cassian felt the nervous energy that permeated the air carried in the shadows that still corralled around him. Before he could voice concern, that whispery voice sounded again.

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

The words hung in the silence between them. Cassian sat stock still, now perched on the side of his bed, heart racing.

“I –,” he swallowed the knot forming in his throat. “I need you to know that I turned her down.”

In the span of a breath, Cassian felt the energy before him, Azriel’s presence as he winnowed the short distance to the bed. Just as before on the balcony, his hand moved without thought to reach into the darkness for the scarred hand hanging at Az’s side. 

A testing swipe of his thumb across ridged palm and he felt Az closing his fingers around his own. That was all the signal Cas needed. One insistent tug and he pulled Azriel closer, bringing his face closer to his own and sliding his free hand to cup Azriel’s jaw.

“Well, come on then,” Cassian whispered over the surface of his lips. “Let’s wear you out.”

Their lips met, Cassian tender and teasing as he pried open the seam of Azriel’s mouth with his tongue. Azriel responded hungry and wild. 

Nipping gently at his bottom lip, Cassian tugged as he leaned back on the mattress, inviting Az to follow. Nestled among the pillows, his hands were free to explore and his calloused fingers roamed over smooth muscle tense with desire.

Azriel followed suit, scarred hands brushing over skin. One placed along the side of Cassian’s neck, pressing against his erratic pulse. The other slid down over his hip and along his taut thigh. Cassian had always preferred to sleep in the nude and right then Azriel had never been more grateful.

Following the unspoken thought, Cassian’s fingers caught in the waistband of the briefs Az had tossed on in his hurry. In a rush of tangled limbs, Azriel briefly broke the frenzied kiss and reached down to rid himself of his scant clothing.

As Azriel’s hardened length was freed between them, it landed beside Cassian’s own against his belly. Cas stretched briefly to the side reaching for the side table drawer. Blindly grabbing, he knew what he was after and turned back to press the bottle of oil to Az’s chest in command.

Pulling away from Cas’s mouth and kneeling upright, Az popped the lid open and drizzled oil into his palm before grasping his cock in hand and tossing the bottle aside. Fingers still slick, he reached down and coated the tight ring of Cassian’s backside before pressing the tips of two fingers inside. 

Cassian accepted the intrusion with a bend of his knees as his legs fell open wider and a shudder ran through his body, wings spread over the bed. The tremble permeated his voice as he let out a deep moan.

Settling deeper into the male beneath him, Az draped his body over Cassian. Tucking his wings in tight to his frame, he leaned in to nuzzle at his collarbone. The purely male scent invaded his senses and he didn’t even attempt to curb the urge to bite. Teeth scraping over skin against bone, Cas released another sinful sound. Whether from the biting or the intoxicating curl of his fingers buried inside him, Az wasn’t sure, so he repeated both actions with intensity.

Azriel could feel the straining hardness of himself, jumping in time to the noises that escaped Cassian writhing beneath him. With a testing thrust, he ground against him, cock slipping into the crease of where Cassian’s thigh met groin. 

The friction sent a heady thrill through him like a shockwave and yet still left him wanting. His roving mouth continued to nip and bite his way over the taut planes of Cas’s body. Every bruising pinch of skin was met with the scraping of nails along the back of Azriel’s arms. 

Sitting upright into a kneel once more, Az removed his fingers from Cassian and grabbed his hips roughly, firm ass planted squarely onto Azriel’s thighs.Textured thumbs swept over the graceful hip bones before his hand circled the base of his own cock and lined up at the other male’s entrance. 

Cassian shifted slightly in Az’s lap readying himself. “Don’t rush,” he heaved out breathlessly.

The command felt electric across Azriel’s skin, zinging outward to the tips of his wings. Knowing that Cas wanted more than a hurried coupling in the night made the sensation of pressing the tip of his cock inward that much sweeter. 

Pressure gave way to incredible warmth, tight and throbbing as Azriel gasped out a moan. The flutter of intrusion began to calm around Az’s aching cock and he started to rock in small even strokes. Each slight push further inside he could feel the flex of Cas’s thigh muscles rippling under his hand.

“Yes,” Cas cried hoarsely. “Perfect.” The word came out almost choked as Cassian threw his head back further into the pillows in pleasure.

Fully seated Azriel paused, leaning forward over Cas once more. The raging urge to withdraw and thrust forward harshly felt like a burning pain along the base of his spine. Pressing his lips once again to Cas’s neck, he tasted the fine layer of salty sweat as he licked at damp skin.

Bringing his hands up, Cas caressed Az's ribcage in encouragement and nuzzled his lips against his ear.

“Say it.” Az whispered, much the same way he had when he had entered this room earlier. Quiet and meek.

The tongue dancing along Az’s lobe paused in confusion, unsure of what exactly he was asking him to say. Az rocked gently into him, sending a jolt of pleasure rolling through Cas once more. 

Answering the question unasked, he repeated. “Say it.” Azriel sagged slightly against the body below him as if resigned. “Call me pretty.”

Cassian could almost feel the pained embarrassment spreading over him for asking for what he wanted. His tongue darted out once more to pull his lobe between his teeth before rolling his hips against Az and feeling his cock twitch inside him. Azriel responded with a harder roll of his hips.

“That’s it,” Cas moaned. “That’s my pretty boy.”

Relief flooded into Az at the words he so desperately wanted to hear. Snapping his head to the side he latched his mouth once more to the side of Cassian’s neck, feeling his racing pulse against his tongue and briefly wondering whether it would feel the same as his cock pressed there. Drawing back, he thrusted hard. 

He set a rhythmic pace, panting against Cassian’s mouth and catching his moans between his teeth. Savoring each sound against his taste buds. With each punishing plunge he could feel Cas’s nails digging into whatever body part they were grappling for. Shoulders, arms, hips, back. The burn of barely broken skin spurred him on, adding to the pleasure coursing through him.

The picture in his mind of seeing that evidence in the mirror come daybreak, bright red lines marking his skin, a claim of who he shared a bed with, sent Azriel into a stuttering rhythm. He could feel his impending release building, cresting ever closer.

Az continued to thrust as he kneeled upright again. With one hand he pressed Cassian’s swollen and leaking cock firmly against himself, feeling the velvety skin glide across his lower belly. 

“Cassian,” Azriel whimpered as he gripped harder along his cock just as Cassian swung his legs around his hips. Az glanced down to see the tendons of the male’s hands straining as he clawed at the bed sheets beneath him, his pleasure just as merciless as his own. 

“Give it to me,” Cas cried with a roll of his hips. “Please, pretty boy.” He could hardly catch his breath enough to utter the plea.

The plea hitting Azriel’s ear sent a tidal wave through his body and his cock responded with release. Pulsing wave after wave filled Cas’s insides and as the throbbing slowed, Az fell forward. Barely catching himself on his forearms, still rocking into Cassian’s body. Moments later, Cassian’s warm release was forced out between their sweat slick bodies as he bit down along Azriel’s shoulder. 

Az laid there, spent and satiated. The thoughts that had plagued him earlier in the night,quiet and still much like the shadows that had abandoned them both. Heavy with exhaustion, he relaxed fully on top of Cas. 

Cassian did not rush him. He only trailed rough soothing fingertips over the broken skin he had caused along an expansive back. 

“Tired yet?” Cas whispered against his hair, lips brushing gently before being followed with a tender kiss. 

Azriel just pulled out and rolled onto the mattress with a grunted sigh, wings flaring on top of the night cooled sheets they hadn’t occupied yet. 

Rolling over on his side, Cas was mindful of not tangling their wings together as he reached over and slid his hand onto Az’s chest. It was quickly met with Az’s scarred hand squeezing on top of it and twining their fingers together as he listened to his heartbeat slow. 

Pulling himself further up on the pillows, Cassian shifted his arm beneath him free and brought his other large hand to Azriel’s forehead. Thick fingers combed through dark curls, pushing them back from falling into his face and scrubbing gently along Az’s scalp.

“Close your pretty eyes,” Cas whispered as Az listened diligently and his eyelids fluttered shut. “Get some sleep, Az.”

General Taglist -

@mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos @pit-and-the-pen

@prythianpages @c-starstuff-man0 @lady-of-tearshed @nocasdatsgay

[dreamdragonkadia]

Helllooo me again 😉

another idea i had was maybe comfort for percy after tartarus nightmares. Again mortal reader and her not really understanding but still supports him unconditionally.

Or her writing a love letter for him in full greek since she knows it's easier for him for his birthday and him just loving her for it. And maybe a sally cameo and just her seeing her boy being in love and being loved inreturn

Or annabeth meeting mortal reader and her just being a protective best friend and seeing mortal reader carrying ambrosia for percy and how loving their relationship is and annabeth giving her approval

Again no pressure !!

If you need any ideas I'm definitely your girl

Have a lovely day/night

That first idea is just so cute, so don’t mind if I do!! 💕 If you ever have more ideas or little prompts, don’t hesitate to send them my way—I live for this kind of stuff! My inbox is always open for suggestions, thoughts, or just a chat. Hehe, thank you for reading! p,jackson x mortal!reader

It was strange, something you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. What could press so heavily on Percy’s mind that it haunted his sleep? The way he would jolt awake from a nightmare, his chest heaving like he’d been running for miles. Or how his body twisted and turned in bed, as though he was trying to escape something terrible in his dreams. Then there were the times he cried. Silent, heart-wrenching tears that you’d catch only because you stayed awake longer than you should, reading by the dim light of a bedside lamp.

Those nights, you were always there for him. You didn’t understand what plagued him, not fully, but you didn’t need to. The scars of his past, invisible though they were, weren’t something you needed him to justify. You never pushed him to talk about it if he wasn’t ready.

There were moments you’d try, cautiously, to ask. “Do you want to tell me about it?” you’d murmur, your voice as soft as the moonlight filtering through the curtains. And when he withdrew, retreating into himself like a tide pulling away from shore, you let it go. You held no grudges for his silence. Instead, you’d gather him in your arms, his head tucked beneath your chin, and press kiss after kiss to his hair, each one a quiet assurance that you were there. Your fingers would trace slow circles on his back, a rhythm that said everything you didn’t have the words to express.

It didn’t happen every night, but it happened enough. Enough that you noticed the pattern. Enough that you knew something dark clung to him—a scar so deep it refused to heal. There was one night, though, when he muttered something in his sleep, his voice broken: Tartarus.

You didn’t ask him about it the next day. You wanted to. God, you wanted to. But the fear of prying too deeply, of pulling him into memories he wasn’t ready to face, held you back. Instead, you let it sit, another piece of the puzzle you didn’t need to complete to love him.

And then there were the good nights. Nights when his soft laughter filled the room as the two of you lay tangled on the couch, watching bad movies and eating burnt popcorn because he always left it in the microwave too long. Or when he’d ramble about the ocean, his eyes lighting up like the waves under the sun, and you’d find yourself smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

You knew the nightmares were part of him, but so were these moments. And maybe you couldn’t chase the monsters from his dreams, but you could be his anchor. You could remind him, in the quiet of the night and the brightness of the day, that he wasn’t alone. That whatever Tartarus was, or whatever battles raged in his mind, he didn’t have to face them by himself.

You’d remind him, with every whispered word, every gentle touch, every second spent by his side: he had you. Always.

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US #DRABBLE - JUNGKOOK AND YOU TALK ABOUT THE FUTURE

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 1K

MAIN STORY HERE.

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 19 years old.

Trailing your fingers along Jungkook’s arm, you roll to your side to face him. His eyes are closed, enjoying the warm breeze of the beach. You spend your afternoon in the water and now you’re both laying on the towel, still slightly wet and sticky from the salt. Propped up on your elbow, your eyes trace his features.

“Are you sleeping?” You ask softly, your thumb brushing his bottom lip before his tongue licks the dry skin of his mouth.

“Yes.” He mumbles, and you roll your eyes, leaning in to nuzzle your nose against his cheek.

“It’s our last week in Busan,” You whisper, and he opens an eye to look at you.

“Really? I wonder how I didn’t notice,” He says sarcastically, and you slap his chest playfully. Jungkook huffs dramatically, pretending to roll on his side.

“You’re not funny.” You groan, sitting up to stare at the shore. “It’s a big step. We’ll only see our families during the holidays.”

Jungkook sighs and sits up too, pressing a few kisses to your shoulder before resting his chin on it. You’ve spent your whole life in Busan, and now you’re leaving for Seoul to pursue your medical license and open your own tattoo shop. Jungkook, meanwhile, has applied to a few universities in Seoul, but since he’s on the waiting list, he decided to find a job so you two could live comfortably.

“Are you sad to leave your father?” He asks softly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to his chest.

“A little.” You admit, taking a deep breath. “But we’re building our future, right?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, tilting his head so you can meet his gaze. “Together. Think about it: you’re upset now, but imagine your father’s smile in a few years when we visit him – with a bunch of little monsters.”

A slight smile curves your lips, and you turn to face him, raising a brow.

“We’re about to move in together, and you’re already thinking about kids?”

“What? A man can dream.” He teases. You shake your head, and wrap your arms around his shoulders, nuzzling your nose to his.

“Yeah? How many?” You play along, earning a grin from him.

“Hm… I don’t know. As much as you want. You’re the one who’ll have to bear them, so it’s your choice.” He replies, making you fall in love with him all over again.

“Two,” You suggest, and he smiles, leaning close enough to brush his lips against yours without fully closing the distance. “A girl and a boy.”

“Like your brother and you?” He whispers, and you hum in agreement.

“But not with too much of an age gap. Maybe just one or two years apart.” You explain, as his fingers race gentle patterns down your spine.

“I hope our daughter won’t end up expelled for pulling a girl’s hair and breaking her nose.” Jungkook jokes, and you roll your eyes.

“She buried my face in my food.” You retort, making him chuckle. “I didn’t even know her or her boyfriend before that.”

“I know. And for what it’s worth, I think that guy had a crush on you and his girlfriend found out. I still can’t believe they bullied you until we graduated.” He says, you twirl a strand of his damp hair around your finger. His damp hair falling over his eyes is cute.

“They called me a whore for a whole year.” You remember, with a sigh. “I can’t believe he lied about something that never happened.”

“Right? You were closer to the Virgin Mary than to a cheap whore.” He jokes as you shake your head. “But honestly, I won’t have to worry for our daughter if she fights like you.”

Jungkook had to deal with them the moment they hurt you. He got expelled for that, but it was worth it.

“Oh god, hopefully she’ll be more like you.” You laugh, your fingers tracing shapes in the palm of his hand as he leans to kiss the corner of your lips.

“I still hope she’ll look just like you.” He replies softly, smiling and you roll your eyes. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Slow down. We’ve both got degrees to earn and life to build before even think about kids.”

“Of course. I’m not saying we’ll have them next year.” He chuckles, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “But maybe in like… ten years. When you’ll have your shop and I’ll earn enough money to buy us a nice house in a good neighborhood. We’ll be married, a cat or two or – three, and a baby on the way.”

“And a dog,” You add, looking at him affectionately. He’s always wanted a dog, he  already has picked the name out.

“And a dog,” He repeats, nodding as he kisses your nose. “And I’ll marry you.”

“Really?” You raise a brow, amused.

“Of course. I’ve known I wanted to marry you since we were sixteen.” He hums, tightening his arms around you. “I think about how beautiful you’ll look in your wedding dress sometimes.”

“Sappy.”

“Shut up. I’m a romantic guy at heart.” He rolls his eyes, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “I love you, Y/N. I want to spend my life with you.”

Your eyes soften at his words, and you cup his face, pressing your lips to his.

“And I want to spend my life with you, Kook.” You whisper before leaning in for another kiss. “I love you.”

You lean back against his chest, the two of you staring out at the ocean. You know you’ll miss having this view every day, or going to the beach every summer. But you’re excited to see what the future holds for you and Jungkook.

“You know,” Jungkook says, his nose brushing the crook of your neck, his fingers tracing patterns on your stomach. “If I’m being honest, getting you pregnant kinda turn me on. When I think about coming inside you and filling you with— ”

“Gosh, you always know how to ruin the cute moments.” You groan, rolling your eyes.

just a little something before christmas, i see you soon with chapter 05! (you can already read it on kofi!)

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

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[alia-alia12]

By Chance

Part 1: The Question

𖧹Gojo Satoru x Fem!reader

𖧹Fluff

𖧹1.2k

𖧹Masterlist

@ramonathinks 🫣🫣

The sharp hiss of the espresso machine and the murmur of quiet conversation filled the cozy café, creating a soothing background rhythm. Gojo Satoru stood at the counter, his bangs falling messily in front of his eyes as he waits for his usual drink—a black coffee with a splash of cream.

The day felt like any other—uneventful, calm, routine. He had slipped into the habit of coming here every afternoon, drawn by the atmosphere more than the caffeine. He enjoyed people-watching, observing life moving around him in effortless patterns.

But he didn’t expect her.

“Have you ever been in love, mister?”

The question came from a small voice by his side. He glanced down, finding a little girl with wide, curious eyes staring up at him. Her tiny hands clutched a stuffed rabbit, old and worn with love, as she waited for her mother to finish placing their order.

Her question hung In the air, innocent yet impossibly heavy.

Gojo blinked. He could’ve brushed it off with a laugh, teasing her for asking such a grown-up question—but something about the sincerity in her gaze made him pause.

Had he ever been in love?

The answer came easily, without hesitation.

“Yes,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Yes, I have.”

Before he could dwell on it further, the barista called his name. He gave the girl a small, genuine smile and nodded politely toward her mother before heading to the counter to get his order.

But as he stepped back outside, the wind tugging at his coat, the girl’s question echoed in the back of his mind.

Had he ever been in love?

He had—so much it still hurt.

His feet carried him back toward his apartment, though his thoughts stayed locked in the past. He thought about you—the one person who’d made him feel more than he thought he was capable of.

The one who held his heart so tightly… only to let it slip through her fingers.

Gojo didn’t know when he’d fallen for you, but there were certain memories that stood out more than most. Moments so vivid they felt like they had happened just yesterday.

Maybe it was the day you first met.

It was the first warm day after a long winter. He was six, dragged to the park by his grandfather, who insisted that he “get some fresh air.”

You were sitting on the edge of the playground, tying your shoelaces with a determined frown. He had noticed you right away—bright-eyed, serious, stubborn.

When your laces refused to cooperate, you huffed in frustration. Without thinking, he strolled over, hands in his pockets.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” he announced, his young voice full of certainty.

You glared up at him. “I know what I’m doing!”

He smirked but knelt down anyway, tying your laces with practiced ease. You stared in surprise, blinking as he finished.

“There,” he said smugly, standing up. “You’re welcome.”

You stared at him for a long moment before smiling—a small, genuine smile that stayed burned in his memory.

Or maybe it was the first time you held his hand.

You were both nine, walking home from school during a sudden rainstorm. His tiny, battered umbrella barely covered both of you.

“Stop hogging the umbrella,” you grumbled, bumping his shoulder.

“You’re the one walking too far away,” he shot back, holding the umbrella out farther.

The rain kept splashing around your feet until you finally huffed, grabbed his hand, and tugged him closer.

“There,” you said firmly. “Now we both fit.”

Your fingers were cold but soft, perfectly fitting in his.

He still remembered the warmth that bloomed in his chest that day, though he didn’t have the words for it back then.

It could’ve been the day he accidentally stole your first kiss.

You were thirteen, sitting on the swings at the park near your family’s bookstore. The sky was streaked with the pinks and oranges of sunset, a lazy breeze tugging at your hair.

He was teasing you about something—he could never seem to help himself—leaning in just a little too close to get under your skin.

You turned your head at the wrong moment, and suddenly—your lips brushed.

It lasted less than a second, soft and unintentional, but time seemed to freeze.

He was the first to pull away, wide-eyed and red-faced.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbled, cheeks burning hotter than the summer air.

But then—you laughed. Soft. Genuine. Beautiful.

“It’s okay,” you said, still smiling, “it was an accident.”

Satoru thought… maybe he wanted more 'accidents' like that to keep happening.

Was it the day he asked you to be his girlfriend?

It had been late summer, the air warm and still. You two of you, both 16 now, were laying on the old picnic blanket near the edge of the park, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky.

His heart pounded in his chest, his usual confidence replaced by something far more vulnerable.

"Look," you started, pulling his attention away from your face and to the sky where you were pointing towards a random cloud. "It looks like a cat"

He squints, eyes adjusting to the bright sun. "It looks like a meatball"

You snorted. "Your imagination is broken."

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Satoru forced himself to say the words that have been bouncing around his head for the past few weeks.

“Hey…” he’d said softly, fingers brushing against yours. “Be my girlfriend?”

You’d turned to him, startled at first—but then you smiled, so bright and real it made his chest ache.

“Okay,” you’d whispered. “I will.”

His eyes widened. "You will?"

"Yes."

Before he could overthink it, he leaned in, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips pressed softly against yours.

He’d kissed you then—his first real kiss, soft and sure, filled with quiet promises he couldn’t put into words.

Or maybe… it was the day you left.

The day you told him you were moving to another city.

You had tried to smile through your tears, promising you’d keep in touch, that distance wouldn’t change anything—but life had a way of proving otherwise.

Calls faded. Messages stopped. The distance became more than just miles.

Or maybe… it was all the little moments in between.

The way you always tugged on his sleeve when you were excited. The way you laughed at his terrible jokes. The way you saw past his bravado—saw him in a way no one else ever had.

No.

It wasn’t one moment—it was all of them.

Every shared glance, every small touch, every whispered conversation under the stars.

Every second spent with you made him fall even more in love than he already was.

The sound of a passing car snapped Gojo out of his thoughts as he reached his apartment building. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

It was silly—pointless, really—to get stuck in memories like this. Years had passed. You were probably living a new life, far from here.

But still…

He glanced back down the street toward the coffee shop, a faint, wistful smile tugging at his lips.

Maybe fate wasn’t done with him yet.

Part 2

[writerfae]

Christmas movie au Advent Calendar 🎄

Day Twenty-Three:🌠ChristmasCard🌠

Christmas special tag list: @bunnymermaidsblog @deadlycupid @dustylovelyrun @ladywithalamp @sleepy-night-child @theguywithnonickname

The rest of the day was nothing but a blur to him, like looking through a frozen window.

He remembered calling his father.

He remembered his father scolding him like he was a little child and demanding for him to come home immediately.

He said he would.

And he remembered Halea, calling him afterwards, worried because of the way his voice sounded when he had talked to his father.

“Oh Talon, I’m so sorry. What are you gonna do now?”

“Leave.”

He didn’t say come home, because it didn’t feel right.

“You heard father, he wants me to come back and will send someone else to do the deal.”

“And you want to just let that happen?”

“No. No, I don’t. But I have no idea how to get Mr. Ashwood to change his mind and build his project somewhere else.”

“And Aiden? You said you’re in love with him. You can’t just give up like that. It will only make you unhappy.”

“Aiden doesn’t want to see me anymore. I’m not gonna mess up his life even more by staying.”

Halea didn’t seem persuaded.

And if Talon was quite honest to himself, neither was he.

He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to fix this thing with Aiden.

If he didn’t want him back, if he couldn’t have him, Talon at least wanted to help him.

He would’ve bought the farm grounds himself if it wasn’t for Mr. Ashwood, if only it meant Aiden and his family could stay there.

It’s not like he couldn’t afford that, technically, he still had the money Kieran inherited him and that wasn’t a small amount.

But he knew how unrealistically high the guy’s offer was, more than the grounds were worth, if he was quite honest.

He’d have to get him out of the way to even have a chance.

But how?

Maybe he would find a way to do it when he was back home, his father wouldn’t send another one of his workers until at least January.

He at least had to try, that’s what he owed Aiden.

He missed him.

He missed him so much, even though it’s only been a day.

It was nice outside, fresh snow had fallen over night and the view from his window looked like the picture on a Christmas postcard.

But it all had lost its magic to Talon.

Seeing all that snow only suffocated him now and he turned away, facing the room instead.

It was a mess.

His coat still lay on the floor by the door, where Talon had left it. His bed was unmade, his open suitcase lay on top of it, his stuff strewn around the room.

He sighed, starting to collect the clothes that were lying around.

His car would be ready soon (he had to bring it to the mechanic because it stood around unmoved for so long it had not one but two flat tires. Talon found that quite symbolic and fitting to the overall situation of his life) and he had already told Greta that he’d leave earlier than planned, so once he had packed it was time to go.

He didn’t want to leave, really, he didn’t.

His heart was revolting against his mind, against the rational part of Talon, who said that staying had no use.

Whatever it was he had with Aiden was over now, Aiden didn’t want him in his life anymore.

And he didn’t manage to fulfill his initial goal in this town anyway (not that he’d ever wanted to do it ever since he got to know the people here).

So it was only logical to leave.

And Talon was nothing if not logical.

Even if it hurt.

His view fell on something inside of the suitcase.

The green sweater with the red and white nordic pattern was neatly folded and tucked away safely in a corner.

Talon couldn’t tell why he brought uncle Kieran’s sweater here with him in the first place.

He hadn’t worn it in years, had almost forgotten about it over the time.

When he had packed for his trip and noticed the sweater in the very corner of his wardrobe, he had put it in his suitcase without thinking about it much.

And now there it was. Reminding Talon of the comfort it always used to bring him, years ago.

After hesitating for only a moment, he grabbed the sweater and unwrapped the book he had wrapped inside of it, carefully placing it on the bed.

He pulled the shirt he currently wore over his head and put on his uncle’s sweater instead.

With a mixture of shock and awe did he notice that he had grown into it. It always used to be too big on him, the sleeves almost reaching his fingertips, but not anymore.

His mother used to say how similar Talon looked to his uncle. Looking in the mirror now, he could see it, too.

The book he had put to the side slipped from the bed, landing on the ground with a loud thud that made Talon wince.

He bend down to put it away, when he noticed that something had fallen out of it.

Talon picked it up, examining it. It was a postcard.

There was a Christmas motif on it of a Santa carrying a Christmas tree before the background of a snowy forest.

A little corny, but still pretty.

Talon stood abruptly.

Not just because the Santa in this postcard looked awfully familiar (he dismissed this one as imagination) but because he registered what he was holding there.

This was the Christmas postcard he got from his uncle, the one he gifted him on their very last Christmas together. The one he never had the heart to read.

He almost dropped the postcard, so fast did he turn it around.

On the back, written in his uncle's neat handwriting, stood his usual Christmas greeting and under it the message he had left Talon, his last words of advice for him.

Always follow your heart.

Tears gathered in his eyes again. Talon was surprised he still had any left.

He ran a hand over the words of his uncle. They sounded just like him. It made Talon smile.

His eyes locked on the red scarf that lay next to his suitcase, carefully folded together.

He hadn’t been sure if he should keep it or let Greta give it back to Aiden.

So it lay next to his suitcase all day, untouched.

Waiting.

On top of it rested the little reindeer figure Aiden had gifted him, gently bedded on the soft red fabric of the scarf.

Talon couldn’t help but stare at it, a thousand thoughts running through his heads.

Thoughts of Aiden, of their time together.

“You said you’re in love with him. You can’t just give up like that.”

“The frost can only make us shiver if we let it in.”

“Always follow your heart.”

Stay. His heart screamed. Fight.

Stay. Stay. Stay.

He carefully put the postcard down and reached for the reindeer figure instead, gently swiping a finger over the little piece of art.

If he’d leave now, he’d never be able to look at it again.

It reminded him of Aiden in so many ways.

Like that time when they saw an actual reindeer at the…

Talon’s thoughts came to a halt abruptly.

The reindeers. Of course. How didn’t he realize sooner?

“A wild reindeer,” Aiden had told him back then. “A bunch of them live here on our property.”

It may not have been birds, but still… this was worth a try.

Maybe, maybe it could work.

This way he could at least help Aiden’s family.

Clutching the reindeer figure in his one hand, he grabbed for his phone with the other, dialing the number of his best friend.

“Halea, I need you to help me…”

[simjaexy]

I liked alot the sub Sunoo one i would like something like that but Sunoo was the one who received the fingering and riding the thigh you can do something like that? if you don't like it, that's fine and ...sucking his nipples too, and hair pullin and caress and squeeze his thighs, and slap so sooo hard his ass... it's it to much? 🥺😶‍🌫️

Decided to make it a male ver. ;) (i don’t usually do male readers so lmk if this was good or not 😖)

Warning: MINORS DNI

“Agh! W-Wait!” Sunoo whined. Tears welled up in his eyes as you fingered him soft and slow. It was too much for him. Your long thick fingers practically filled him up so good. You hummed and caressed cheek. He sniffled and turned to look at you with his glossy eyes. You felt like cumming right then and there.

“Want me to go slower?” You teased. Sunoo whined again and arched his back, “N-No, faster- please.” He whispered. That was all you needed before fingering him faster causing him to cry out in pleasure. You felt your dick hardening at the sight of him at your mercy.

Sunoo felt his orgasm coming and wrapped his hand around your wrist tightly. You cooed and kissed his cheek. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his back, sending shivers down his spine as you pulled him closer, feeling the rhythm of your breaths sync. Sunoo came right then and there.

Sunoo let out quiet pants before letting out a gasp when you suddenly pulled him to your thigh. He let out a whimper feeling his dick rub against it, “H-Hyung?” Sunoo whined. You gave him a sweet smile and pecked his lips. Sunoo didn’t need to be told what he had to do and immediately started grinding softly against your muscular thigh. Moans of wanting and pleasure was heard.

As he was so lost in the moment, you tucked his shirt up revealing his perky nipples. You have one of them a flick making him scream in pleasure. The feeling of you sucking on his nipples and him grinding down harshly had his head spinning, God the things he did to you.

You noticed he was on the verge of his second orgasm with the way he held your shoulders tightly for leverage. You scoffed seeing that he was practically using you like a duck toy. No, that’s not how you want it. Sunoo let out a cry when he felt his hair being pulled back, “Is my baby using me to satisfy themselves?”

Sunoo tried shaking his head, “N-No! Never! Want Hyung to feel good too.” He whispered. You smiled and pecked his plumped lips, “Good boy.” You muttered. You let go of his hair making him jerk forward.You rubbed his thigh soothingly as he counted, but this time wrapping his arms around your shoulder and giving kisses on your neck.

You hummed and slapped his ass making him yelp. He started pacing faster indicating he was gonna cum again, “H-Hyung I’m gonna- Ah!” Sunoo couldn’t finish his sentence when you suddenly wrapped your strong arms around his waist and moved him to your liking.

He lolled his head back and came right in his short. You cursed and roughly kissed him and came seconds later. You stared at Sunoo in awe. Messy hair, dry tears on his cheek, his cheeks in a color crimson pink, saliva dripping off his lips, he was perfect. You still had your arms around his waist and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“Wanna go another round?”

The only thing you received was a slap on the chest.

[dissapointu]

Drabble: because for some reason I like characters with fck ass haircuts

The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of neon signs outside casting shifting patterns across the walls. Ran sat in their usual spot by the window, one leg propped up on the seat, the other stretched out lazily across the floor. Their sharp gaze flicked toward you as you entered, the corners of their lips quirking upward in the faintest hint of a smirk.

“You’re late,” they said, their tone dry but lacking any real bite.

You shrugged, brushing off the cold drizzle that clung to your jacket. “Got held up. Some enforcer thought I looked suspicious.”

Ran raised an eyebrow, their black hair falling into their eyes. “You? Suspicious? Never.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing the room to sit beside them. They shifted just enough to make room, the warmth of their shoulder brushing yours as you settled in. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The city hummed outside, the muffled sounds of Zaun’s chaos filling the quiet.

“You didn’t have to wait,” you said softly, glancing at them out of the corner of your eye.

Ran tilted their head, their sharp features softened by the faint neon glow. “I always wait,” they replied, their voice lower now, almost hesitant. “For you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “Guess I’ll have to stop making you wait then.”

Ran chuckled, a rare, quiet sound that you felt more than heard. “Don’t push your luck.” But their hand brushed against yours, lingering for just a moment before retreating, and the warmth it left behind said everything they didn’t.

The silence stretched between you again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It never was with Ran. They weren’t someone who needed to fill the air with words, and somehow, that made being around them feel more… real. Grounding. You leaned back against the seat, watching as their gaze shifted to the window, sharp eyes scanning the streets below like they always did, even when there wasn’t a threat in sight.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, tilting your head toward them.

Ran didn’t answer immediately. Their fingers drummed lightly against their knee, a habit they probably didn’t even realize they had. “Just… the usual. This city. People. You.”

That last word was said so casually you almost missed it. Almost.

“Me?” you echoed, your voice caught somewhere between teasing and curious.

Ran finally turned to face you, and for a moment, you were caught by the intensity of their gaze. It wasn’t intimidating, not exactly—but it was like they saw straight through you, past every mask and defense you might’ve tried to put up. “Yeah,” they said simply. “You’re always on my mind. Is that a problem?”

Your breath hitched, and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks. Of course, Ran noticed, because they always noticed.

“N-no,” you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady. “Not a problem.”

Their smirk returned, this time with a flicker of something softer in their expression. “Good.”

Before you could say anything else, they reached out, their fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The gesture was quick, almost hesitant, but the warmth of their touch lingered long after their hand had retreated.

“Stay for a while,” Ran said, leaning back in their seat again, their voice quieter now. “It’s better when you’re here.”

You smiled, settling into the space beside them, your heart racing even as their calm presence began to ease you. “I’ll stay.”

And for once, it felt like the chaotic city outside didn’t matter. Not when you were here, with them.

[littleacebee]

It’s first day of Podcast Girls Week!

DAY 1: Favourite scene or episode

I didn’t have any creative ideas for today so I decided to simply share some of my favourite moments of podcast girlies (spoilers ahead!):

• Amelia telling a guy who took her grandma’s necklace to jump off the bridge (The Amelia Project)

• Alvina keeping dead guy in his bed while running his company (The Amelia Project)

• Anita punching Nazi (The Amelia Project)

• literally every scene where Leona eats/shows her love for food (Starfall)

• Addison saving little girl from being run over by the car in split second (Unseen)

• Medea coming to save Atalanta and Medusa on chariot with dragon (Khora Podcast)

• Anh and Alestes’ homoerotic sword fighting (Trice Forgotten)

• Alestes loving her potatoes (Trice Forgotten)

• Gloria starting a war against Ted empire (Midnight Burger)

• Gertrude Robinson and her crimes (The Magnus Archives)

• Melanie trying to kill Elias (The Magnus Archives)

• Minkowski and her harpoon (Wolf 359)

• Athena outsmarting everyone (Mission: Rejected)

• McGrath prioritising food over mission stuff (Mission: Rejected)

• Madge getting invested in her fake backstory while getting undercover (Fawx & Stallion)

• Anne and Mary’s homoerotic sword sparring (The Ballad of Anne and Mary)

• Cleopatra and Fulvia sharing their schemes and murders with each other (Cry Havoc! Ask Questions Later)

[totally-not-an-awkward-okapi]

Trying to figure out how to digitize sketches ft. Doodles of Victor Freeze. I was thinking about how weird it is that “rule of cool” means he usually gets a much wider range of acceptable temperatures than an actual human. I don’t know, I find the idea of him having a human range but slightly lower is charming.

[loderlied]

posting on here is like my sisyphean boulder i'm constantly rolling tbh

[riftsmagic]

I want to enjoy this game so bad bc I paid money for it and I’ve invested 70 hours of my life into it already. but I’ve gotten to a point where it’s SO hard not to get critical every time anything happens. im losing it