#in a way that makes them.........crisper

[franeridan]

just reached punk hazard which for one means I'm about to proceed to not be normal again ever but for two it means I just finished rereading fishmen island and you know what. I don't know why my brain had completely erased this arc from start to end, it's a wonderful arc

[thegnomelord]

If Makarov managed to capture Hound again, how do you think he'd punish Hound for letting himself be taken away?

OOOOH anon you're gonna give me more ideas for the angst lol

The punishment wouldn't be as much for getting captured as it would be that Hound let someone else touch what belongs to Makarov — Hound. And what a bad dog you've been, evidently he's been too lax with the leash if his hound got this spoiled and disobedient.

Here's 2 scenes that just came to mind that may or may not become cannon idk yet:

CW: NSFW, blood and gore, torture, angst, toxic relationship, cock-warming, dub-con at best non-con at worst

1: Blood. There's so much blood. You feel it creep from the wounds on your head down to the space between your eyes and the blindfold, your carved open back throbbing like one giant wound, shallow cuts weeping blood down your skin. Every harsh breath forces the scent of death and blood deeper into your nose, copper and iron staining your tastebuds. Scraps of flesh dig into your gums between your teeth — the throat of whichever man had stabbed you last.

Adrenaline keeps you standing, muscles trembling in preparation of another stab of pain, gums itching to bite and kill. "Good," You just barely hear before a sharp yank of the leash pulls you down. Light floods in as the blindfold is suddenly ripped off, your eyes stinging from the bright light but you force yourself to look.

Makarov smirks as he watches your eyes fly to look around, wild and feral only to focus on him. There's his hound, blood dying your world red, violence blurring the edges of your vision until the only clear thing you see is him — the one who owns you. Keeping the leash tight so you nearly choke he reaches out to grip your jaw, shoving his thumb into your mouth. There's a second of resistance he'll need to beat out later, but you open your mouth wide, blood glinting on your metal capped canines. "That's better." He presses his thumb on your tongue to keep you silent when he senses you about to try and speak, forcing your mouth to open even wider until a low whine escapes you.

A big mistake; you were ordered to stay quiet. Your muscles tense, but you don't dare anger him further and keep your eyes on him. "A disobedient dog, but at least you're smart." He tuts. You don't know why your eyes want to close when he spits into your mouth, something acrid burning beneath your skin as you feel his saliva rapidly cool on your tongue. (dumb dog, be grateful he's giving you this much)

"Good." Makarov sounds pleased, letting go of your jaw and pushing the blindfold back over your eyes. "Next." His voice rings, and you feel your stupid heart ache as violence rushes through your system as another man approaches you, ready to make you bleed even more until you can get your teeth around his throat.

Or

2: You've experienced it all: cuts, bruises, internal bleeding, broken bones, starvation and so much more — a thousand little deaths. But the sting of tattoo needles hurts more than all of that, like they're piercing deep through your flesh to ink Makarov's initials on your heart. Your head is tilted back so far your skin stretches taught across your Adam's apple, the buzz of the machine rattling your ears.

The tattooing stops long enough for you to hear Makarov scoff before a harsh slap nearly knocks your head off your neck. You realize only then that you'd closed your eyes, quickly snapping them open to look at Makarov as he looms over you. "That's better." Makarov hums, pulling on your throat skin to make it even tighter. "Evidently I spoiled you too much."

You feel Makarov shift, his gummy hot walls clenching around your hard cock as the needles return to your throat. The pain and pleasure blur in your skull, but something about the way his cologne — much harsher and crisper than the scent's of the 141 you'd grown used to — curls in your nose that makes you feel weird. You don't know what it is, but it feels like your heart wants to vomit, the sweet sensation of Makarov taking pleasure from your body buzzing on your tongue like battery acid.

A low sound escapes your chest as he finishes, a pleased look in his eyes as he traces the black lines across your throat. Just from how your skin throbs you know they're big and bold, his claim on you clear. (as it should/n't be -- dumb brute, what is wrong with you?)

"There, now you're a proper hound." Makarov hums, tracing the crisp lines — he's a good owner, he wouldn't make a sloppy job of ensuring everyone knows who his hound belongs to. "That feels better, yes?"

"Yes sir." You say.

You don't know why those words sound like a lie to your ears.

[a-queer-seminarian]

I made these charts to provide an easy reference guide for comparing the four Gospels! Feel free to share around wherever.

I think tumblr's crunching up these images so visit here for crisper versions (plus they're table format instead of png format).

Alt text version is under the readmore, necessarily formatted slightly differently but with all the same info.

TEXT ONLY / NON CHART VERSION:

Images show two charts, each credited to Avery Arden with a note that the material largely derives from the abridged version of Raymond E. Brown's An Introduction to the New Testament.

Chart 1: Comparing the Gospels, Part 1 – historical context

Mark

When: 

Late 60s/early 70s

Who:

Jewish

Multi-lingual — peppers Aramaic into the Greek

Where:

Rome or Syria (clearly unfamiliar with Palestinian geography)

To whom:

Mainly to Gentiles new to Christianity who were experiencing persecution

Priorities:

Encourage audience and show them how their suffering fit into Jesus’ vision of the Kingdom of God

Matthew:

When: 

Late 70s/80s

Who: 

Jewish 

Also multi-lingual, with Aramaic phrases;

Greek more polished than Mark’s

Where:

Probably in or near Antioch (in Syria); possibly Galilee

To Whom: 

Mainly to well-educated Jews who were debating internally about how Jewish tradition fit into following Jesus

Priorities: 

Promote Messiah Jesus who fulfills audience’s Jewish scriptures

inform church life and structure

Luke

When:

mid-to-late-80s

Who:

Gentile (possibly Jewish convert)

Educated Greek “historian” familiar with Septuagint; no use of Aramaic; expert use of Greek

Where:

Probably Greece; possibly Syria; also unfamiliar with Palestine

To whom:

Mainly to wealthy Gentiles influenced by Paul’s mission; living in an urban setting

Priorities:

Promote Isaiah-like Jesus; challenge audience to live out faith more actively (e.g., by redistributing wealth)

John

When: 

90s / as late as 110

Who:

Jewish 

Student(s) of “the Beloved Disciple” (the “Johannine school”)

Where:

Traditionally Ephesus; possibly Syria

To whom:

To a mixed crowd of Jews & Gentiles, at a time when tensions between Jews who did & didn’t follow Jesus had reached an all-time high

Priorities:

Promote Jesus’s divinity; strengthen unity in a group increasingly defining itself as separate from Jewish ones

Chart 2: Comparing the Gospels, Part 2 — Thematic Content

Mark

Emphasizes Jesus as:

Jesus as miracle-worker / healer; human being 

Unafraid to depict human limitations & emotions in Jesus

Other defining attributes / content:

Focuses on Jesus’s actions, e.g., his miracles; as well as on his suffering and death

Originally ended with the empty tomb & fear; no resurrection relief

The disciples often fail to understand Jesus; Jesus is frequently secretive about his identity

Matthew

Emphasizes Jesus as:

A Moses figure, Messiah, Son of God; teacher

Removes descriptions that make Jesus seem limited, naïve

Other defining attributes / content:

Beatitudes (ch. 5); judgment of the “sheep and goats” (ch. 25); 

Instructions for intracommunal relationships; forgiveness; “Great Commission” (ch. 28)

Polishes Mark’s depiction of the disciples to present them more favorably (esp. Peter as the “rock” of the church)

Luke

Emphasizes Jesus as:

Self-aware Son of God; prophet of the poor

Removes descriptions that make Jesus seem emotional, harsh, or weak

Other defining attributes / content:

Beatitudes (ch. 6) — with added “woes”; frequent warnings about risks of wealth

Also depicts disciples more favorably

Favorable depictions of tax collectors as sinners on the way to redemption; 

negative views of Pharisees as rejectors of Jesus, juxtaposed with stories of Gentiles who express faith

John

Emphasizes Jesus as:

Divine, the Word / “I Am” made flesh; lamb of God

Often misunderstood by disciples & crowds due to his use of figurative language

Other defining attributes / content:

Poetic format, full of symbolism; similarities to Gnostic texts that arose in the same era

Lots of “testimony” and “signs”

Despite Jesus & his disciples being Jewish, John depicts “the Jews” as being against Jesus; his Jesus says things like “It is written in your law…”

[zooone]

" CAN YOU HEAR ME ?! "

in which ?! - choso, being 150 years old and clueless, doesn't know how to work a phone.

words ?! - 1.2k

warnings and content ?! - no warnings, malewife choso i fear, silly ending, pls pretend its winter slash fall...

an ?! - choso my baby i luv him

masterlist ?!

the crisper air in the afternoon was enough to chill her, fingertips going pink as she typed down at her screen. her legs shook a little with the wind passing through the buzzling street.

she tapped the contact "choso <3" with the numb padding of her thumb, putting the cold phone to her ears as the little rings cut through the commotion.

one ring, then another, and another.

she frowned, as the automated message instructing her how to leave a voicemail played. maybe he was just busy. his phone was new, after all, and maybe he wasn't used to checking it.

"hi choso!" her voice softly cut through the commotion. maybe he would be able to check his voicemail later. "hope you're okay! i'm on my way home now. i love you."

and a click, and she hung up and looked up. so much life was in the city. so many couples out holding cold hands and giggling together like usual. she didn't feel lonely by any means, of course she had choso at home, but she had a little suspicion that he was almost embarrassed to be with her in public. just a suspicion.

"choso? i'm home-" she said, putting her thick jacket away, her cheeks still having hints of red. "where are you?"

"kitchen!" his voice rang out, a panic laced into it. "don't come over here!"

"are you okay?" she responded, of course going by the kitchen to see.

"i said don't come over here!" he yelled, trying to sound intimidating but his voice cracked. his figure blocked her vision of the kitchen, and she smelled the scent of food on his "kiss the cook" apron.

"what are you doing, honey?"

"i was.. trying to surprise you." his large figure shrunk a little as he sighed, his shoulders dropping. "i would've finished before you got here but - i got distracted."

"oh honey," she frowned, kissing the tip of his nose. "you're so sweet. what happened?"

"the phone that you gave me ... its evil." he spoke with such ominous intensity in his voice, his eyebrows scrunched firmly. "i do not trust it."

"evil?" she giggled a little.

"it started making an extremely loud noise and your name appeared on the screen. how did it know your name. how did it know who you are." he was so genuinely confused, and she couldn't help but laugh. "its so small and it knows so much! i do not trust it!"

"thats because i put my contact in your phone, honey. and i called you earlier." she put her hands on his tense shoulders, feeling as the intensity dissolved from his muscles. "you're so funny."

"its not funny at all!" he frowned. "i think its evil and we have to get rid of them."

"here, let me show you how to use it." she got his phone from the counter, sitting down on the couch as he followed suit. "what's your password?"

he grumbled softly, grabbing the phone to type in the digits of his password. only for him to type the letters of her name.

"thats a pretty weak password. you might get hacked." she teased, and he gasped.

"is that how it knows your name?! because of my password?!" his grip on the phone got tighter, as did the space between his eyebrows. "is it my fault?"

"its not your fault, calm down." she grabbed the phone back, her other hand holding his. "i told you, i put my contact in your phone so you know its me when i called. i left you a voicemail too."

he grumbled, a soft pout on his face as he sat back.

"okay, this is where you can call me, see if i've called, or look at your voicemail." she pressed play on the voicemail she left, flinching as the loud sounds of the city pierced their eardrums.

"i love you too," he frowned, not looking at the screen but at her. "i'm sorry i couldn't .. pick you up onto your call to say i love you."

"the phrase is 'pick up your call,'" she corrected, "and i love you too. this is where you can text me. here, give it a try."

"what... do i put?" he held the phone far from his face, squinting like an old man as he eyed the keyboard.

"just put something random. its just so we can test it out."

"okay..." his pointer finger tapped the letters harshly, leaving an extremely loud tapping noise.

/ Hellllo.

"i accidentally put four L's. how do i fix it."

"the backspace button next to the M, baby."

he pressed the backspace button with his pointer finger, his bottom lip sticking out as he spent extra focus.

"oh. i deleted it all. i'm sorry." he looked at her with panic, but she had a huge smile on her face. it made him calmer.

"its okay. you're still learning." she kissed his cheek with a giggle, caressing his hair. he wore his black hair down, and some stray bits of hair covered his worried expression. but she smoothened out the tension in his eyebrows. "do you wanna try calling now?"

"yes, please."

"i'll have to be in the other room or else there'll be feedback," she spoke, leaving the spot next to him empty. "just tap my contact and press call, okay?"

and he nodded, looking back at his phone skeptically. his pointer finger was straight as he heavily tapped the screen, movements adjacent to that of a bird picking out a worm from the soil. he pressed on her name, pressed call, and held the speaker up to his ear.

not even one ring, and she picked up.

"hello?" he could hear the smile in her voice.

"hi, can you hear me?" he nervously spoke, knee bouncing with unnecessary anxiety that ran through his body.

"hi choso!"

"hi, sweetheart," his voice was relieved. "i did it."

"you did it!" she exclaimed, though her cadence was more joyful than relieved. "you did it, choso!"

he frowned when the call hung up, but it quickly went away once he saw her she practically bounce back into the living room, a large smile on her face. without another word she jumped into his lap, legs straddling his as she rested her arms on his broad shoulders. her touch was warm, and he still had the smell of food lingering on his clothes. a large hand of his snaked around her as he hugged her back.

"now you can call me without worrying," her smiley voice was muffled into his shoulder, but her body shook softly as she giggled. he sighed, leaning into her touch as they gradually melted into the couch.

"i'm going to call you everyday," he groaned, his voice right in her ear. she shivered a little at the heat of his mouth. "and text you."

"i can't wait, choso," she pressed a small kiss to where his shoulders met his neck. her lips gradually grazed his collarbone, and another groan slipped his mouth.

they stayed in silence as she pressed small kisses up the side of his neck lazily, her fluttering eyelashes tickling his pale skin. the arm he had around her torso tightened softly, nails biting at her hips.

"choso, baby?" she spoke after a beat, her tone skeptical as her eyebrows scrunched softly.

"yes? what is it?" his eyes were still peacefully closed, head leaning back on the cushion of the couch.

"do you... smell that? it smells like smoke."

"THE FOOD-"

at least if the house burned down, he could use his phone to call 911.

8.24.24 - hooray!

[izvmimi]

cw: crack but also cute, i think. reader has a specified magic, and she and mash are friends (for now). reader's a bit preoccupied with his diet. a bit of medical talk.

Mash is three bites into a cream puff when you put away the last of your pantry essentials, and turn to look at him, a slight frown on your face.

He’s done the legwork of your grocery shopping run, bringing everything into your apartment in one trip, and now, baked good in hand, he’s looking idly in your direction. You can tell you’ve exhausted him all morning with your chatter, but he’d deny it if you asked him, claiming he’s content to hear whatever you have to say.

You are now tasked with the job of convincing yourself that that’s true, but Mash doesn’t lie, and it is particularly hard to lie to you anyway. You lean over your counter as you watch him sit atop your barstool, kicking his feet practically, and when he catches you watching him finally, his eyes soften as he inquires what you have to say. 

“Mm?”

You almost feel bad for spoiling his happiness when you say, “Mash, I think we should talk about your diet.”

He blinks, and takes four more bites, rapidly in succession. He knows exactly what you mean. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my diet.”

He’s eating faster now, and before you can open your mouth the cream puff is gone. There are at least three more stowed away from the supermarket bakery this morning, sitting in your fridge, that he absolutely plans to leave with. Not that you can stop him, or would.

But it’s your duty to say something. 

Moving in closer to talk to him, you pull up the other barstool and rest your elbow on the counter to prop up your chin. Now you’re eye to golden eye, and his expression is unchanged, neutral as always but he’s focused on you.

“I know you like them, but you can’t live off of flour and sugar, Mash.”

He blinks again. “Why not?”

You scrunch your nose. “Diabetes? Which leads to heart disease, stroke, poor arterial circulation, retinopathy, renal failure…” your fingers tap the desk with every disease, but your voice trails off as you can see his eyes glaze over and you let yourself sigh internally before stopping. “I’m wasting my time with this, aren’t I?” you say, not annoyed but somewhat defeated. You’ve looked away for a moment, but when you look back, you’re not sure when he moved, but there’s another cream puff in hand.

“Mash!”

“Mm?”

You grit your teeth. “At least consider what I have to say for a second.”

Through bites, he insists, “No, you totally have a point but my nutrition is fine.” He swallows, then pats his left chest. “Mike and Kevin have not brought anything to my attention.”

It’s your turn to give him a blank look, but Mash never ceases to surprise you, and if you don’t say something fast, he’ll tell you about the rest of his muscles’ thoughts and feelings. 

“Right but long term, Mash.”

“Mm.” He smiles, accepting your concern for him. “Show me where I’m unhealthy then.”

Mash stands and raises his arms in a T-pose, and unable to help it, you burst out laughing. Of course, you can’t find any flaw - every extent of his body remains as chiseled and developed as the day you first met him, and the fact that he even looks so seriously willing to participate is so laughable. 

“I-” you’ve run out of ways to defend your stance, but then you shake your head.

“You know that’s not what I mean-”

Somehow in the time that you closed your eyes and shook your head to recollect yourself, he’s started doing push-ups. You give him an appraising look, then go to the fridge and pull out a cabbage from the crisper.

Without bothering to ask, you settle down on his back once he’s slowed for a moment, and he continues, this time slow enough that you won't topple off of him. 

“Okay, how about if I turn this choux into choux cream?” 

He pauses in the up position, and cranes his neck up in your direction.

“I’m listening.”

“Good.” He descends again, and you make yourself more comfortable on his back, tucking your legs in. 

“I use my magic to make you feel like you’re eating a cream puff, but it’s actually a nutritious vegetable.”

“Mm.”

He stops, and you jump off of him, and then he takes the cabbage from you in his right hand as you stand before him. Looking from the cabbage to you, he asks:

“So you’ll replicate the entire experience of a cream puff in this cabbage?”

You nod. “Like this.”

You touch his hand gently, whisper your incantation, and in Mash’s eyes, the cabbage now has the appearance of a perfectly appetizing cream puff in his hand, far better appearing than the one he just had, and far too eager, he brings it to his mouth, spitting out immediately when it’s a raw cabbage and not his favorite food in his mouth. 

“Unpleasant.”

You grimace.

“Shit, I think I need stronger magic,” you murmur to yourself. Scratching your chin, you realize that taste might require a bit closer contact.

“Mash.”

Mash has set the half-bitten cabbage back down and is now in your fridge to cleanse his palate with another cream puff.

“Wait!”

He turns to the sound of your voice, mouth full, and you sigh. Walking towards him, you take the cream puff out of his mouth and set that on a plate too, right next to the cabbage. 

Moving to the sink to wash your hands, you ask, “Can you let me try again? I just need permission to touch your cheek or tongue in order to make sure your taste buds get involved in the illusion.”

You turn and look at him, once your hands are dry, and you shake them out, and he looks at you contemplatively. 

You raise an eyebrow.

“Can I or-”

Suddenly he steps forward, and gently takes your face in his hands, and before you know it, he’s kissed you. Tongue in your mouth, sweet and swirling quickly; it’s over almost as quickly as it began.

You hold your breath, but he’s reached for the cabbage now, and bites into it.

“It worked.”

The look on his face is pleasant and unfazed, unlike you. Your heart races for a moment, but soon you remember to breathe and air fills your lungs again.

All that’s left to say, your cheeks warmed, is, “I’m glad.”

[lizzy019]

𝐻𝑒𝓁𝓅 𝑀𝑒!

Dallas Winston x Girly/Emotional!Reader

cw -> mentions of attempted kidnapping and rape⚠️, bondage not during sex, cowgirl, some dacryphilia, lazy ending :\

Word Count -> 2.7K

I’m sorry if this is bad, I had no motivation lmaoo

The roads of Tulsa at night were always relatively pleasant.

The moonlit skies illuminated with stars, the chill of the breeze hitting your exposed skin as you watched little rodents run and scurry off at the sound of your footsteps. It was enchanting in a way, the serenity under the darkened skies.

You were walking averagely paced, just trying to make your way home in peace like you always did. That was, until, someone’s unfamiliar voice had startled you from your gleeful travel.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ on the streets so late, hm?” It had you swivel on the heels of your shoes, skirt swirling around as your eyes landed on whoever spoke to you.

It looked like someone who usually hung out at Buck’s.

“I-I’m headed home.” You managed to spew out the words, hands trembling in fear as the cool night’s breeze suddenly became even colder.

Your answer had elicited a gruff chuckle from whoever had first asked you, and the sound practically rattled your spine.

With nervous hands fiddling with your purse’s string, you found yourself briefly lamenting the peace you’d lost while walking home. At least it was silent and serene, but now with these random men staring at you like you were a piece of meat? You felt jitters in your fingers.

“Home? Aw, little girl, why go home when there’s so much fun to be had with us?” One of the boys who spoke was barely recognizable from the shadow of the night casting a dark colour to mask his face. “We’re much more entertainin’ than you think, sweetheart.”

The pure condescension in his voice had the rest making sounds of mirth and mockery towards you. You wished you could curl up and run away, to hide and be in the safety of your home. But not with these men trying to take you with them, no. Going home now would be bad for you and your family.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know any of you.. I can’t go with you even if I wanted to.” You tried to sound disappointed, to sound like you really couldn’t and that you had to go.

Much to your misfortune, that only earned you a few more snarlish laughs.

“Aww, but we don’t want you to go, sweetie. A precious little girl like you has no reason to be walkin’ the streets alone, especially at night. Why don’t you let us help you and we can walk you home, yeah?” The way he said it left no room for argument, no room to try and push him back and further try and pry him off of you.

He was dead set on you, and you would be theirs to malnourish how they see fit.

So with a fear that made his inner loins tighten, he followed close behind you, as did his other little gang member. One hand was tight on your waist, trailing up your shirt to reach your soft skin as the other one tried to talk to you so you didn’t lose track of what you were doing.

Your skin, so porcelain and smooth, was being degraded by this lowlife’s touch, and it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. It was uncomfortable, you felt every nerve in your body trying to reject it as all the hairs on your body stood upright.

“So, sweetheart, you got plans this evenin’? Maybe we could redirect this and take you to our place instead, yeah?” Again, there was no room for choice as the two had almost manhandled you to walk in the other direction.

You were scared, your vision being blurred when tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. The walk was almost agonizingly long, and you felt the cold air become crisper.

They walked you to Buck’s place, smirking as they had tugged you in. Buck didn’t seem to care anyway.

So with eyes that showed nothing but fear, you looked around in hopes you’d spot Dally. Left and right, there was no sign of him. You had to do a double take too, but once you were all out of hope, the tears finally started rolling down your cheeks.

It was hopeless to fight.

The two random men had started pulling you to the apartment rooms upstairs, and this had your eyes widening more in sheer panic. You thrashed and wiggled, trying to at least get some sort of outage, but your strength was overtaken by the two as they had finally pushed you into their room.

Panic had now overridden your senses, and you began to flail, kick, hit and scream. It was worrisome and rushed, but it got you some leverage to move. Your yell was loud, puncturing the steady sound of the music and arguing downstairs.

With quick moves, the two men had you being tied up, further enhancing your panic as you began to scream muffledly. They had tied your mouth.

The ruckus had alerted someone and the door was being banged from the other side. It caused the men to stop, and one of them moved to go and check who it was. The door was flung open, and much to your surprise, Dallas was standing tired eyed.

“Hey man, can you do this later-” He snapped out of his previous thought when he saw you being tied up and forced around. “What the fuck are you doin’, man? Get offa her!”

Everything moved too fast, and you had closed your eyes out of desperation. It was loud, too loud. The sound of Dallas hitting the other men to at least get to you rang loudly within your ear canals, and you found yourself getting a bit overstimulated by your emotions and senses being so overloaded.

You were practically sobbing, the once straight and frilly dress you wore was creased from all the moving around you had done. With blurred vision, you found yourself standing up haphazardly to waddle over and stay within Dally’s protection. It was pathetic, sure, but you were so scared and tired.

“Dal-.. Dally, th-they wanted to rape me.” You heaved while trying to contain your incredulous sobbing, your hands desperately wiggling to try and free yourself. No avail.

Dallas paid no mind to the two men hollering out threats, simply taking you away from the malicious situation and making sure you were alright. Once you had found yourself in his apartment nearby, you practically scrambled in and tried to curl yourself as small as you could.

He couldn’t blame you for being scared. As sensitive as you were, your emotions typically protected you from situations such as these. Your flight or fight reflexes were always there to aid you, more than his own anyway.

You had sat on his mattress, the dulcet yet painful sounds of your sniffles and pained whimpers were all making his heart soften. Just a bit though.

“What the hell were you doin’? Are you tryin’ to get yourself into the mud? You fuckin’ dumbass.” He chided cruelfully, sitting beside you with an irritated expression while he tried to undo the ties that bound your wrists.

His harsh words made a few more tears dribble their way down your cheeks, the only bonus was that your hands were free. Dally found himself growing more concerned than anything. Sure, he’s seen you emotionally unstable before, but nothing like this. You were trembling, closed off and trying to stop crying like you were embarrassed. In truth, you were.

“I didn’t mean to, Dal. They just followed me n’ started tryna take me with them..” You murmured out in a shaky, worrisome tone. Poor Dally was used to your overly bubbly personality.

With rough but cautious hands, Dally began to take some of your layered clothes from you. Your little cardigan was ripped from being tugged around so much, and you found yourself lamenting its tortured state. As silly as it was, it was a fabric you had come to genuinely appreciate.

“Sweetheart.. Just take some deep breaths, yeah? Ya want a cig?” He hummed, trying to accommodate to your needs so you’d finally relax.

You shook your head at his offer, simply letting him take off the fabrics covering your body so he could check for any bruising or damage to your porcelain skin.

His rough hands were gentle when they scanned around your body. Dally was known for being a bit of a perv, but he knew better when you were in such an exposed, mentally challenging state. His hands never came near your chest or your bra, nor your panties that kept you covered. Dally simply needed to confirm that you were alright physically. He had to warm himself up before dealing with you in a more emotional sense.

Once he had confirmed that you were okay asides the digging in your wrists from the previous ties, he leaned you back onto his mattress and tried his best to give you a cuddle. It wasn’t something within his forte, but he tried his hardest for you. Dally was willing to try anything for you.

You didn’t complain one bit, simply relishing in his body heat while you had finally managed to calm your sniffles. Dallas was being kind? You couldn’t find a single thing to complain about.

“Dal- What if you didn’t come in time?” You asked quietly, the nervous tone of yours unable to be shaken.

Dally could only sigh softly and press a soft kiss to your temple in an attempt to calm you.

“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. You’re okay, are you not?” He huffed it out gruffly, simply letting his hand rub your waist.

“But it’s hard to.. not worry, Dal. If you didn’t come in time, you know what they were gonna do to me! I jus’..” You found your eyes dribbling warm tears again, and you stopped talking as to not embarrass yourself.

Dallas frowned a little, lowering his head to peep at your expression. His hand moved from your waist to your neck, and he offered what little of a smile he could to you. His efforts weren’t unnoticed. Clearly Dally did something right, because he had you beaming back at him in no time.

You found yourself looking at him so affectionately, admiring all his precious features with rapt intent. From those pretty, blue eyes of his to his soft but high cheekbones. The way his lips curled so perfectly into a hand carved smile made in the heavens, or even just how pretty his blonde hair was despite being all messed up.

“You’re real pretty, Dal. No wonder all these girls wan’ you to notice them.” You hummed, smiling.

Poor Dallas found his eyes going wide out of shock from your unexpected compliment, but soon it turned into a dry laugh.

“Sweetheart, I only got my eyes on you right now, don’t I? You’re better than they are anyway.” Dally grumbled tiredly, his lips pressing onto yours so you’d be quiet.

It worked.

You simply sighed out of contentment when the kiss was engendered. No controversy, no disagreement or dislike. You both were just surrendering into the kiss with full enjoyment, albeit lazily doing so.

Immersed in the way his lips moved on yours, you found yourself desperately trying to get on top of him, to have that sort of dominance in the situation. He didn’t deny you of it, after what you had endured earlier. The last thing you needed was to feel trapped and stuck.

Once you were successfully pressing your already mostly nude body against him and your lips were still molding together, you were mindlessly grasping at the muscle on his arms, squishing them for leverage before pulling away. A small string of saliva had connected your lips before breaking when you pulled away altogether.

You had finally sat up straight, your arms trailing down his body to find his jeans’ zipper and button. Once you secured the fabric under your fingers, you scrambled to unbutton and unzip them so you could find what you were looking for. His cock was now just hiding in his boxers, and you helped him take the jeans off of his legs.

Dally’s hands were quick to unclip your bra and throw it off somewhere on the floor. He didn’t care where, he just wanted to see your pretty breasts all exposed for him. You smiled shyly when he just continued to stare at them, but you tried to pay his staring no mind.

Your hand bumped his semi-erect cock a few times for good measure before you had to adjust to wriggle your panties off. With the amount of slick you had just accumulated without even noticing, you found yourself becoming a bit shy, but you proceeded anyway.

“Ooh, sweetheart, you wanna be on top? That’s new. You sure you got this?” His voice simply oozed a playful condescending undertone, but you weren’t even quite focused on it. Your body was adjusted to a cowgirl position in no time.

Dally was waiting impatiently, but regardless he tried to keep himself from forcing you. This was all about your comfort level now.

So with shaky hands and wobbly legs, your hand dipped down and moved his cock to your entrance before you could finally let your legs give out. Doing so, his cock was plunged deep into your core, soaking in the heat and throbbing about in genuine pleasure.

Both you and Dally had moaned in harmony, his hands squeezing your thighs as he tried to catch his breath just a bit too fast. You were also huffing a bit, hands on his abdomen as you adjusted to his girth and length before bouncing. You knew he probably appreciated what you were doing, even if it wasn’t coherent in his head.

With you bouncing mercilessly on his cock, Dally had to fight himself to not let out any moans or whimpers. That wouldn’t be very masculine of him, he thought. But once you had found a rhythm and consistency that really got the poor guy overwhelmed, he was almost TOO loud.

“Ohh sweetheart! Oh fuckin’ shit, yeah, thas’ it! Get that dick sweetie- fuckin’ hell!” He would writhe, squeezing your legs and hips mindlessly to try and ground himself, only to fail and make himself into a mess.

It wasn’t like you were any better, jaw all slack and tears rolling freely down your cheeks from the way his girth was stretching you just a bit too much. Sure, you weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t fucking every man under the sun either, your pretty, precious cunt was barely used for these situations, it hurt a little.

“Dally! Dally, fuck me! Oh God, yeah!” Every word that tumbled from your mouth was almost incoherent, just pure nonsense as you fought to keep moving.

Dallas was getting an eyeful of your tears, your body and how you moved. Every sweet reaction his dick brought out from you. While it was a bit worrying, it was just too erotic seeing your fat tears roll down and drop onto his abdomen while you fucked yourself stupid on his cock.

He felt his orgasm bubbling in the base of his dick, but he couldn’t tell you! Not when you were simply too perfect to stop looking at while moving on him. Little did Dally know how close you were, just teetering on the edge with how dazed you were getting.

You were moaning and shivering, tears finally slowing down when you had hit a climax so hard that it pulled the air from your lungs. You clenched on his cock like a vice, which had Dally’s orgasm heightening shortly after until everything had stilled.

You both were huffing and heaving for air, and your poor, tired body flopped down over top of his where you shortly after had fallen asleep. Poor Dallas didn’t have the courage to wake you up, simply pulling the blanket over your bodies and kissing your head softly.

He was glad you were finally comfortable after everything.

Shoutouts to:

@raycravens116 @trial-dogs @goingdelux18

[cuculine-nelipot]

One way in which OFMD exceeded expectations this season is the emphasis they placed on the need for personal growth, especially in the pursuit of relationships - all relationships, not just romantic . Buttons laid it all out for Ed, and then turned into a bird just to prove that it is possible if you believe enough. They repeatedly drew attention to Ed's and Stede's flaws, and why they need to work on them in order to become better people not only for each other, but for everyone around them

Lucius told Stede that he was selfish and self-centred, that despite his self-proclaimed love, respect, and kindness, his actions made him anything but. He and the other crew members told him that he was wilfully ignoring reality so that he could believe in the fantasy of Ed/Blackbeard that he had constructed for himself. These are all things that prevent him from being both the captain and the romantic partner he wants to be. The main thing he needs to do to change is listen actively. This has been true since season 1, when we saw him refusing to engage in an honest dialogue with Mary, and several times when he ignored his crew. However, throughout season 2 he is given ample opportunities to listen, to grow as a person, to become a better leader and partner, but he doesn't. At all. He tells Lucius that he can talk to him about his bad experiences, only to quickly tell him that it's too much, talk to Pete instead. He lets the crew vote as to whether Ed should be allowed to stay, only to invite him back shortly after they decide against. After much arguing, he begrudgingly accepts that the crew believes his red suit is cursed, but he does not get rid of the shirt. He agrees when Ed tells him that he needs their relationship to progress slowly, only to initiate sex with him soon after. When Ed expresses his anger about that, he does not understand, and he does not take responsibility. He murders Ned Low even though he knows how desperate Ed is to leave violence behind. In the final episode when everyone tells him that his plan is terrible, he does not listen and insists that they do it anyway, and Izzy dies because of it. He does not take responsibility for that either. In fact, throughout the season he happily comments on the fact that despite his staggering incompetence, things always seem to work out for him specifically, not acknowledging that the same is not true for anyone else. He has remained just as self-centred and self-serving as he was in the very beginning.

Ed too experiences a similar state of arrested development. His core motivation is still to be a different person, and like in the first season he swings from one persona to the next, never reconciling the disparate parts of himself. The closet he gets to reckoning with himself is when he admits that he does not think he is worthy or capable of being loved, but that he wishes he was. However after being "reborn" every attempt he makes to that end is at best superficial and half-hearted. When he addresses the crew he does not say he's sorry, and the only thing he does that could be framed as an attempt at reparations is when he gives them money to throw themselves a party. At that same party he (at Stede's encouragement) congratulates himself for dispelling the poison, disregarding the fact that it was the crew's idea, and the crew who put all the effort into it.

Like in season 1, each of his personas comes with a costume change. There's the kohl smeared face of the Kraken, the cleaner crisper Blackbeard, and the neutrals of Ed - a blank canvas. He does not know who Ed is yet, and he is prevented from finding out by his unwillingness to accept that he is the Kraken and Blackbeard, to sit alone with himself. Fang points this out to him, but instead of anything meaningful coming from it, we get two separate scenes of Ed thinking about being quiet, about being present. Just for a laugh. Because, like with Stede, it's funnier (apparently) for him to stay exactly the way he is.

So he does not grow, because despite the writers putting him in positions to do so, their idea of comedy is for him not to. His brief stint as a fisherman is shockingly reminiscent of the end of season 1, where he's so focused on being zen and chill and being a totally new person that he neglects the basic functions of his job. Unlike then, he does not have the excuse of being burnt out. There is no commentary on toxic masculinity here. It was just 'funnier' to show him being incompetent, and apparently the only way the writers could think to get him back to the main narrative. By which, of course, I mean Stede. Because despite it's ensemble cast and the seamlessly integrated character-driven storylines on season 1, this is the Stede Bonnet show, right?

In spite of his very real, and understandable frustration with Stede a) initiating sex despite his explicitly saying he wasn't ready and b) killing Ned Low right when he was trying to leave violence behind, he makes a beeline for him. He rows back to the Republic of Pirates, sees it on fire, and immediately thinks of Stede. Not the crew (because despite Izzy's quite frankly insane last words he has not done anything to build a relationship with them) and not either of the two men he's sailed with for years. Only Stede. For Stede all of his development (as little as it was) is undone. He kills some naval officers despite his previously established desire to avoid violence. he dives to retrieve his Blackbeard outfit, simultaneously completely undermining the significance of him tossing them in the first place, and of his swimming upward towards a new life.

In season 1 he left Blackbeard for Stede and in season 2 he reclaims him for the same reason. But that's not growth. That's not character development. In both instances he is simply being reinvented in the context someone else. He pursues Stede simply because Stede enables him to imagine that he is a different person, he becomes the version of himself that exists in Stede's mind. If this were real life, it would be an extremely unhealthy way to live. In terms of fictional media, it's just lazy writing. Putting him next to Stede is the easiest, least meaningful way for Ed to change. Despite insights into his interiority, he is not being written as a character with agency.

This becomes especially obvious when we look at Izzy's dying words, and at David Jenkins own thoughts about their relationship. Jenkins says that Izzy fed Edward poison and ended up eating it too. Izzy says that he fed Edward darkness because he needed Blackbeard. There is exactly one instance where this is true. That one instance does not in anyway serve as evidence that Izzy was responsible for every violent thing Ed had ever done. Izzy was not responsible for Ed killing his dad, Izzy was not responsible for the joy Ed admitted he took in maiming people, and it certainly does not in anyway justify the violence Ed enacted on him. That one instance also does not change the fact that Ed very clearly had all the power in his and Izzy's relationship. He ignores Izzy continuously. His reaction to Izzy's anger is violence - he chokes him, he maims him. Izzy has no power. Ed chose violence - for a myriad of complex reasons, yes, but it was his choice. But the writers are framing it so that Ed is simply a puppet - he can either be filled with "Izzy's" poison, or Stede's "goodness." He has no agency, because it's too hard. It's too complicated. It would be too much for Ed to be a complex, morally flawed character who grows and changes for the better, and it would be so hard to write him having his happy rom-com story. So it's better to just simplify all that complexity, right? Forget the trauma Ed endured, forget the trauma he inflicted, forget his depression and his mania. Izzy fed him poison. Izzy made him Blackbeard. Let's just leave it at that. Except that's not the story they wrote, is it. If Izzy made him Blackbeard, fed Blackbeard, wanted Blackbeard, needed Blackbeard, then why does he almost never call him Blackbeard? Consistently, since episode 2, it's a constant stream of "Edward", "Ed" and "Eddie" and we're supposed to believe it was Blackbeard he was after? Speaking of Izzy, his arc is the cruelest of all. And no, I'm not salty that he died. I am beyond disappointed that he died in the arms of his abuser, that his last act was to not only absolve his abuser of all responsibility, but to take it on as his own, and that David Jenkins seems to think that this is a good end to his story.

At this juncture it's important to say that Izzy Hands is very clearly a victim of abuse - physical and emotional. It has however become abundantly clear David Jenkins and many fans of the show do not see it that way. Why? Is it because he's a man? Because he does not act like some preconceived notion of an abuse victim acts? Because it's possible that he "brought him on himself"? Is it really possible for anyone to bring that level of violence on themselves? He experiences the most growth of this season, yes, but as we've established the bar is very low, and he was not given the chance to flourish like it first seems. He does not remove himself from the abusive situation. He is confronted about it, he lashes out in panic, and he is consoled, but he still cannot admit to it. That one moment of care allows him to distance himself from Edward - just a little bit. It allows him to stop enabling Ed, and to stand up for the crew. Not himself, the crew. He is just as selfless and as blind to his own needs as ever.

When Edward shoots him in the leg he screams for death. When Edward confronts him again, he surrenders to the fact that he is not loved, or wanted, and he tries to kill himself. He does not survive for himself, or of his own volition. He survives because the crew makes him survive - they try to hide him, they cut off his festering leg, they make him a wooden one, they allow him to lean on them (physically and implicitly emotionally) for support. He begins to heal, but he does not fully get there. He still loves Edward. We see it in his desperation to know what Ed told Stede about him. We see it in the way he approaches Ed, hoping for a moment of his time. He never reckons with the fact of his own abuse. He tells himself a shark took his leg. His dying act is to apologise to his abuser, to blame himself. He lets Edward go not for his own sake, but Edwards'. He lets go of Edward, and he says he wants to die, just like he did when Edward shot him, just like he did when Edward talked to him after that. He hasn't healed. While Ed's and Stede's fatal flaw is their selfishness, Izzy's has always been his selflessness, and that is still true. He still loves the man who hurt him beyond comprehension, he still gives his life - takes away his guilt and gives him the family he earned for himself - so that man can be happy without him. He literally dies for Edward's sins. He is denied the opportunity to ever live for himself. He was given the beginnings of healing, a home and, a family; one party and a swan song.

[gimmethatagustd]

venor (13) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Word Count: 7,347

○ Warnings: Chasing, what the gworlies call self-lubrication aka slick, Taehyung’s got a big dick (in every universe imo), size difference, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, anal fingering, unprotected anal sex, scenting, marking, jealousy, pet names, more weird dick jokes

○ Notes: Another cliche, smutty, fluffy chapter, pls don't @ me. I also didn't proofread this so I'm sorry 😩

○ Post Date: April 7, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

Only one thing comes between Jungkook and Taehyung's relationship: winter break.

The end of the semester sneaks up on them quicker than Jungkook expects, despite Professor Jung's weekly warning that their Art History final project deadline is looming over their heads. School and work are conveniently forgotten when one is in love. The sun shines brighter, the air feels crisper, and more often than not, Jungkook wakes up with Taehyung's face snuggled in his neck and Taehyung's limbs flung over his body. He's such a big, bad tiger, yet he loves cuddles; it makes Jungkook's heart swell every time. 

Knowing that this domestic bliss will be severed by two months of Jungkook stuck in his parents' house, forced to give up his autonomy in exchange for suffering through their old-fashioned ways, creates a creeping sense of anxiety in his chest. He loves his parents, but life in Seoul has opened his eyes to a more adventurous, accepting, and worthwhile world than the rigid, closed-minded way his parents choose to live. Two months stuck in the house with them and away from Taehyung sounds like a nightmare.

"What're you thinking about?" Taehyung's morning voice rumbles in his chest and vibrates against Jungkook's. He speaks with his face still pressed to Jungkook's neck, so his question is muffled.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, bun," Taehyung says, running his nose up and down Jungkook's neck, triggering a smattering of goosebumps in his wake. "You smell distressed."

Lately, Taehyung has started letting Jungkook in on his little secrets, like the fact that his predator hybrid senses allow him to more accurately sense changes in other hybrids' moods by their scent. Looking back, Jungkook can pinpoint moments when Taehyung seemed to know exactly how he felt, even when Jungkook thought he was being subtle. Then again, Jungkook has never been very subtle around Taehyung. He's not sure his crush on the boy would let him.

Jungkook's feelings are more than a crush now. Sometimes, he wonders if Taehyung can tell that he's in love with him. Suyun and Yoongi say it's obvious, but Jungkook still has trouble reading Taehyung's steady nature.

"I'm nervous about the end of the semester," Jungkook admits.

"Because of finals and stuff?"

"A little bit…"

Absent-mindedly, Jungkook massages Taehyung's head, sifting his fingers through the soft curls until he finds the fur of his striped ears to gently scratch them. In return, a soft purr hums from Taehyung's throat. Something about the sound and vibrations feels calming, maybe even healing.

They stay like this for a while, curled up against each other. Jungkook's eyes are closed, and his breathing is shallow as Taehyung thoroughly scents him. A kiss near his temple, one just below the corner of his jaw, another more of a suck of his skin than a kiss at the center of his throat. It's hard to focus on anything when Taehyung shifts, half his body lying on top of Jungkook, giving him access to the other side of Jungkook's neck. His breath blankets Jungkook's sensitive skin as he huffs a low, quiet laugh when his thigh brushes against Jungkook's hard cock.

They haven't had sex since the first time, not because of a lack of interest but because Jungkook wants to take things slow. This sudden interest in sex has left Jungkook shaken up a bit. It's so unlike anything he has experienced before that he's suddenly afraid of his own sexual desires. Taehyung made one joke about fucking like rabbits, and Jungkook has been self-conscious about his sex drive ever since.

"After we pick up our flower pots, we can go over the presentation?" Taehyung offers once he seems satisfied with his job of scenting Jungkook.

"I'll reserve a study room in the library."

While Jungkook gets his phone to make the online reservation through the university's library, Taehyung rolls off the bed. He lands on his feet, and Jungkook wonders if he's like a cat and always does. The thought makes him giggle, and he shrugs when Taehyung's head tilts and his ears swivel in confusion.

Snow blankets the ground in a dusty sheet. It may not be much now, but weather forecasts predict heavier snow in the coming weeks. Jungkook can't believe the year has gone by so quickly and figures it must be Taehyung's fault.

Unbothered by the cold weather, Taehyung pulls a thin white hoodie with the university's basketball team's logo over his t-shirt. His black tapered joggers are just as thin and poorly insulated, and Jungkook is sure that the matching basketball shoes Taehyung will probably wear when they leave won't be much warmer. Predators and their body heat. It makes Jungkook roll his eyes, even as his heart flutters when Taehyung opens the second drawer in his dresser where some of Jungkook's clothes permanently live now.

"Are you in a comfy mood or a cute mood?" Taehyung looks over his shoulder to see Jungkook still sprawled on the bed. His gaze runs along Jungkook's body, probably admiring his exposed legs and how soft he looks in one of Taehyung's baggy t-shirts that he often wears to bed.

"My comfy clothes are cute clothes," Jungkook pouts.

"Right, of course."

"You can pick out whatever you want me to wear."

Taehyung has great fashion on most days, but it's different from Jungkook's. Still, he does well choosing an outfit: light blue straight-leg jeans with pink hearts printed on them and a fuzzy white sweater that falls just enough to expose part of Jungkook's shoulder. How coy.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Jungkook gives Taehyung his starry doe eyes, the most innocent look he can muster—not that it's particularly difficult. Jungkook is an angel.

"What?" Taehyung smiles, genuinely confused.

Jungkook could tell him now. Those three words are ready to burst out of him, a broken dam, a busted floodgate. Taehyung picked out pink hearts! Jungkook could tell him.

"Nothing." Jungkook stands on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Taehyung's shoulders and nuzzle his neck. "You're just cute."

Jungkook will tell him later.

In the kitchen, Hoseok is reheating fried rice. He looks very domestic yet highly fashionable in his lavender matching silk pajama set. When Jungkook sits at the kitchen table, Hoseok’s face lights up. 

“Jungkook-ah! I didn’t realize you were here. Good thing I have a lot of leftovers.” 

Hoseok motions for Jungkook to grab one of the three bowls while he prepares a fourth one. Before Jungkook can ask him why he has made so much food, Jimin slinks into the room, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“Good morning, Jungkook,” Jimin mumbles as he flops into one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Good morning, hyung.” 

Jimin is disheveled, his hair sticking up so high that it nearly hides his ears, and his t-shirt wrinkled. Jungkook can’t tell if he’s wearing shorts under his shirt, so he avoids looking, just in case. The shirt is definitely one of Hoseok’s; it has the university’s basketball team’s logo. All the players got one. Jungkook has worn Taehyung’s before.

Hoseok brings Jimin a bowl of rice, pausing to kiss the top of his head before placing it on the table. It’s cute how Jimin purrs, even if it’s brief because he seems to remember that Jungkook is there and abruptly stops, cheeks aflame. 

Making it clear that he’s minding his own business, Jungkook eats while scrolling through his phone and wonders if everyone else knows that Jimin and Hoseok are together, and perhaps Jungkook has been oblivious this whole time. Another part of him wonders if his poor Yoongi hyung knows, too. It's obvious that Yoongi has a crush on both of them, even if he yells at Jungkook to shut up whenever he tries to talk about it. Honestly, the yelling is what makes it so obvious. 

“How long have you been up, hyung?” Jungkook asks Hoseok, who seems chipper and wide awake compared to Jimin’s zombie stare as he eats. 

“For a few hours, but not too long. Yoongi hyung’s work alarm woke me up at the ass crack of dawn–” 

“Hyung!” Jimin snaps, suddenly very alert. He gives Hoseok a pointed look, but Jungkook’s head is already reeling. 

“Yoongi was here?” Taehyung asks, causing the other three men to jump in their seats.

“Shit, Taehyung, you can’t do that to me,” Hoseok whines with his hand pressed over his heart. “I’m too fragile.” 

With a snort, Taehyung grabs some rice and a carton of strawberry milk. Jimin curls his upper lip at the food combination when Taehyung sits beside him. 

“Why was Yoongi here?” Taehyung talks through a mouthful of rice and Jungkook knows he’s down bad because Taehyung is so cute. 

When neither Hoseok nor Jimin answers his question, Taehyung arches an eyebrow at Jungkook. Hoseok is pink in the face and stares at his rice. Jimin glares at Hoseok, mid-chew. 

“Are the three of you fucking?”

“Taehyung!” Jimin snaps, redirecting his glare. 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on Hoseok, the one who is the worst at telling lies. That’s probably why he hasn’t said or done anything. 

With a grin, Taehyung shoves more rice into his mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Jungkook immediately opens his text messages with Yoongi and demands to know what’s going on, just as Hoseok tries to grab his phone. 

“Jungkook-ah, you shouldn’t bother him while he’s at work!” Hoseok insists, but Jungkook scoots away from the table before Hoseok can reach him. 

“Call him, bun,” Taehyung instigates things and gets a kick to the shin from Jimin.

There is no way Yoongi could possibly hide something like this from Jungkook! It’s hurtful! After everything he confided in Yoongi regarding Taehyung, Jungkook gets this in return? Unbelievable. 

“I’m leaving.” Jimin grabs his bowl and stomps out of the kitchen, slamming Hoseok’s bedroom door behind him. 

Satisfied by the mess he’s created, Taehyung leans back in his chair and sips his strawberry milk. 

“This makes a lot of sense, actually, since male snake hybrids have two dicks…” Taehyung grins when Hoseok slaps him on the arm. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Taehyung.”

Jungkook looks up from the long text message he’s crafting to Yoongi and stares hard at Hoseok. 

“Hyung…”

“A boy for each dick.”

“Taehyung, I swear to god.”

“What?” Taehyung props his elbows on the table and leans forward with a dark look. “You told Jungkook that I have a cheese grater dick. I’m just returning the favor by explaining your anatomy. So how do you do it, hyung? Do they both just climb on top–” 

“Alright, that’s enough!” Hoseok pushes himself away from the table and nearly flips his chair backward. Like Jimin, Hoseok grabs his bowl and leaves the kitchen, giving Taehyung his middle finger on the way out. 

Once Hoseok’s bedroom door is slammed shut again, Jungkook turns to Taehyung. 

“Does Hobi hyung really…” 

Taehyung’s devilish grin makes Jungkook’s stomach flip. 

“Nah, he doesn’t. That’s a myth, too. I just wanted revenge.” 

“I really hate you for putting that image in my head…” Jungkook grumbles as he finishes his 5 paragraph essay to Yoongi. It’s impossible to genuinely be mad at Taehyung, though, especially when his laugh brings so much warmth to Jungkook’s chest. 

Considering their eventful morning, Jungkook thinks he worked up enough courage between eating breakfast and their short walk to the Art academic building to confess to Taehyung. It’s the third time they’ve visited the studio together, the second being when Taehyung taught Jungkook how to glaze his flower pot, Jungkook choosing a shiny mix of pink and beige to paint the entire thing. Unsurprisingly, Taehyung went with darker colors, swirls of navy blue and forest green. Since glazes are tricky in the kiln, it may be surprising what their flower pots look like now that they’ve been re-fired.

Everyone says the third time’s a charm, but this third time in the studio is a nightmare when another person falls in line with Jungkook and Taehyung as they walk down the hall toward the studio doors. For once, Jungkook thinks he’d like to catch a break. First, it was Byungchul attempting to ruin his relationship with Taehyung; now, it’s Ten’s annoying habit of showing up at the most inconvenient times.

“Hey, Taehyungie hyung,” Ten sneaks up beside Taehyung and squeezes his bicep, the one Jungkook isn’t clinging to. He leans forward to give Jungkook a toothy smile. “And hello, Jungkook-ah. What are you guys up to? Going to the studio?”

Obviously, they’re going to the studio, Jungkook thinks as they reach the only door at this end of the hall. Where else would they be going? He wants to sass Ten, but his parents raised him to be polite, so he can’t find it in him to answer Ten’s question.

“Mhm,” Taehyung hums as he holds the studio’s door open for Jungkook and Ten. “Jungkookie and I are just here to pick up some projects we worked on a few weeks ago.”

For a moment, Jungkook’s heart plummets when Taehyung pulls his arm out of his grasp, but he smiles once Taehyung holds his hand instead. Leaving Ten to put on an apron and prep for whatever he’s working on, Taehyung leads Jungkook to a little side room where the kiln is. Their projects are in the bottom of the machine to rest and cool for a few days. About a dozen other projects are resting with their flower pots.

Jungkook lets Taehyung take theirs out, too worried about knocking things over to try getting on his tiptoes to reach inside the kiln himself.

“Yours came out so pretty, bun,” Taehyung observes, gently passing the flower pot into Jungkook’s hands. “You did fucking great for your first time sculpting.”

The flower pot is pretty, just as shiny and easy on the eyes as Jungkook wanted it to be. The pink and beige hues will nicely complement whatever green plant he chooses to put in it. Taehyung’s end product is equally as pretty. The colors remind Jungkook of the sea on a stormy day, and he thinks they fit Taehyung well.

Taehyung carries his flower pot in the crook of his arm and fumbles to pull his phone out of his pocket, smiling through his struggle as Jungkook giggles at him. 

“Let me take a picture.”

Jungkook holds his flower pot next to his face and side-eyes it, raising his eyebrows and pouting with goofy, puckered lips.

“Why are you so cute?” Taehyung asks, but Jungkook knows the picture is likely terrible quality. The kiln room is tiny, leaving little space for Taehyung to take a proper picture that isn’t too close-up, and the lighting is dim. Still, Taehyung looks at his phone like he’s just photographed something award-worthy.

“Bunnies are naturally cute,” Jungkook bites his lip in a hesitant smile when Taehyung leans into him.

“You’re the cutest bunny I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

Taehyung tilts his head slightly to the side and bumps his sharp nose against Jungkook’s button nose. His breath is hot against Jungkook’s face, and it comes out in little puffs as he laughs at Jungkook’s squirming.

“What’re you doing?” Taehyung bumps their noses again and tries to press his lips against Jungkook’s, but Jungkook wiggles away.

“You’re making me nervous!”

“How?”

Their teeth click against each other, Taehyung laughing and Jungkook giving a scrunched bunny smile. Jungkook doesn’t know why he’s so giggly and nervous, but it might be because he’s in a tight spot with the boy he loves and can’t hold still with so much affection swelling inside him. Taehyung is suffocating him in the best way.

Rising up on his toes, Jungkook kisses Taehyung, something soft and sweet. Jungkook rarely initiates kisses, but ever since he and Taehyung became official, he’s felt more confident in seeking the affection he craves. It pleases Taehyung, too. When Jungkook pulls away, he leaves a boxy grin on Taehyung’s face.

“Baby,” Taehyung whispers with his fingers hooking in Jungkook’s belt loops to pull him closer. 

“Yeah?” 

The term of endearment makes Jungkook’s soul light up. His soul may even fly away, lift off, and soar to heaven when Taehyung’s cheeks turn pink, and he nibbles on his bottom lip with rare nervousness. They need to be more careful about being touchy, giggly messes while holding their precious ceramic creations.

“I know I don’t always say the right things, but I wanted you to know—”

“What are you guys doing in here?” Ten flings the door to the kiln room open, momentarily blinding Jungkook from how brightly the studio’s lights shine compared to the dim lighting in the kiln room. “Professor Choi won’t like students hooking up next to expensive equipment.”

“Oh, like you haven’t,” Taehyung teases Ten, and a strange part of Jungkook gets annoyed that it doesn’t make Ten blush or appear flustered. Instead, Taehyung’s teasing seems to encourage Ten’s obnoxious behavior.

Shrugging, Ten gives Taehyung a coy look and says simply, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Jungkook wants to wipe that smug look off Ten’s face! How, he doesn’t know, but he certainly wants to. Resisting the instinctual urge to stamp his feet, Jungkook spins around to look Ten in his piercing eyes.

“Don’t worry, last time Taehyung bent me over and fucked me on that table,” Jungkook points to the table Ten is using to work on his latest project, “So no broken expensive equipment.”

Twisting to the side, Taehyung violently coughs into his elbow. Cocky satisfaction buzzes through Jungkook, pleased that he elicited not only a strong reaction from Ten, whose face turns bright red, but from Taehyung as well.

“Well,” Taehyung exhales loudly once he can speak again, “We’ll see you around…”

Ten nods and avoids either of their gazes, quickly turning around to stare at his work table. Jungkook sincerely hopes he can’t get the image of Taehyung fucking Jungkook out of his head and that he has to move his project because of it after they’ve left.

“Bun, what the hell was that!” Taehyung exclaims once he has pulled Jungkook into the hallway.

Batting his eyes, Jungkook smiles sweetly at Taehyung and cradles his flower pot to his chest.

“A little lie never hurt anyone.”

“I…” Taehyung lets out a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that before.”

He hasn’t. Jungkook smirks and shrugs; there’s nothing more to say.

Shaking his head, Taehyung squeezes Jungkook’s hand in his and leads him out of the building. He mutters about how Jungkook has turned into some kind of menace since he met him and wonders if this is somehow his fault. All Jungkook can do is laugh because Ten got what he deserved. It’s rare now that Jungkook can fluster Taehyung, so he celebrates the small victories whenever possible.

Never mind that the fake scenario Jungkook cooked up for Ten is kind of hot…

Jungkook keeps that thought buried in the back of his mind as he and Taehyung drop off their flower pots at Taehyung’s dorm in exchange for their backpacks. The library study room Jungkook reserved is next on their agenda for the day. Much of Jungkook’s time with Taehyung is spent not doing their school assignments, so he’s determined to keep them on track. They only have a handful of standard classes before final exams begin and final projects are due. If there ever was a time to get their shit together, it would be now.

Luckily, Jungkook and Taehyung are strong students when they aren’t together. Despite his cool guy persona, Taehyung takes school very seriously. Like Jungkook, Taehyung is motivated by the desire to perform well for his parents, which is a sign of respect for the sacrifices they made to get him a good education. Jungkook’s motivation comes with a twinge of fear that he will disappoint his parents if he doesn't perform well. Unfortunately, that comes with the reality of having strict parents.

The thing is, their parents aren’t here to encourage or scold them. Jungkook finds it easy to become distracted by Taehyung’s presence, even when all they’re doing is sitting across from each other while they work on assignments, Jungkook working on some code on his laptop and Taehyung sketching a design for his final sculpture project. Taehyung’s fingers are pretty curved around his pencil. When Taehyung looks up at him through his curly bangs, Jungkook feels his stomach dip with a sensation that flirts with the line between anxiety and arousal.

After a while, hunger replaces the strange sensations in Jungkook’s stomach, gnawing and gurgling at him. Since they started their day late, it's well past lunchtime, but Jungkook is determined to run through their Art History presentation before they leave the library.

“Can you stop looking at me like that?”

Taehyung squints at Jungkook from behind a podium in the front of the room. Their presentation is projected on the whiteboard behind him, skipped ahead to his part. Rigid, his face scrunched into a frown, he looks more awkward than Jungkook has ever witnessed him.

“Looking at you like what?” Jungkook asks with a smile. He sits on the table and swings his legs because they don’t touch the floor.

Irritated, Taehyung’s tail swishes back and forth, curling around the outside of his ankles with each whipping motion.

“I don’t know, just don’t look at me.”

Biting his bottom lip, Jungkook muffles a giggle as Taehyung reviews his project notes scrawled on a wrinkled piece of paper lying on the podium. Never would he have guessed that extroverted, charismatic Taehyung is afraid of public speaking.

“Taehyung…”

“What?” Taehyung frowns. “Jungkook, I’m serious, it’s not funny.”

Jungkook isn’t bothering Taehyung on purpose. He just can’t get over how precious he looks, stiff-limbed and pouty, with a light pink hue blooming across the honey-gold skin of his cheeks.

There’s a lot that they don’t know about each other. Rather than being discouraged by that, Jungkook finds each new bit of information learned a blessing. How wonderful is it to learn new things about someone you love? He gets to continuously discover Taehyung, just as Taehyung gets to learn more “Jungkook lore,” as he calls it. They’re young; they have so much time to evolve and discover new things about themselves, together.

Maybe Jungkook is naive. Maybe he’s falling deep because Taehyung is his first boyfriend, and no one finds true love in their first relationship. As he hops off the table to stand on his tiptoes in front of Taehyung with his arms around his neck, Jungkook decides that he doesn’t care about any of that. He doesn’t care that he’s young, naive, and inexperienced. He doesn’t care that he and Taehyung aren’t supposed to be together.

Jungkook will tell him what he’s been wanting to tell him for quite some time, and he will do it now.

“You’re going to do an amazing job,” Jungkook insists, pulling Taehyung into a tight hug.

“I’m gonna get up there and forget everything.”

“If you freeze, I’ll do the talking. You know I’m good at that!”

Jungkook hums when Taehyung’s hands wrap around his waist to tug him flush to his body. They fit together so well, with Taehyung strong enough to support Jungkook when he feels like he’ll turn to mush from how gently Taehyung holds him. The feeling only grows stronger when Taehyung bows his head to tuck his face against Jungkook’s neck and tickles his skin when he inhales deeply.

“Baby,” Taehyung whispers, his lips tracing down Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook’s body grows hot from the smooth and deep sound of Taehyung’s voice.

“Yes?”

Taehyung’s next inhale trembles. He tightens his hold on Jungkook’s waist and presses a kiss to the corner of Jungkook’s jaw before pulling back far enough to look Jungkook in the eyes.

“I love you,” Taehyung says with a timid smile.

He watches Jungkook’s expression with attentive eyes that glow a warm amber far more comforting than the fluorescent lighting in the study room. They shift between focusing on Jungkook’s eyes and his parted lips. Leaving Taehyung waiting must be torture. Jungkook doesn’t mean to prolong the suspense or make Taehyung reconsider admitting his feelings, but he can’t formulate words. Blood rushes to Jungkook’s head, forcing his heartbeat into his eardrums as it pounds so frantically that Jungkook feels lightheaded.

“I wanted to say it first,” Jungkook blurts out, his tone breathy. He's clearly overwhelmed by the slew of emotions flooding him.

“What?” Taehyung laughs, “You wanted to say you love me before I said it to you?”

Jungkook nods, still feeling out of breath.

Taehyung loves him. Taehyung loves him, and he said it first. Jungkook wasn’t even sure if Taehyung would say it back, but he said it first.

“So, you love me?” Jungkook nods, but Taehyung clicks his tongue. “I wanna hear you say it, bun.”

Taehyung’s timid smile grows into a confident and boxy one. It makes butterflies emerge in Jungkook’s stomach because that look is for him.

“I love you, Tae,” Jungkook whispers against Taehyung’s mouth before he leans in to nibble on Jungkook’s bottom lip.

“I love you so much, baby.”

Taehyung speaks in between kisses that feel like they’ll bruise. Jungkook can hardly keep up as Taehyung leans in further, nearly bending Jungkook backward as he bites and sucks his lips, occasionally shoving his tongue in Jungkook’s mouth and coaxing Jungkook to share his passion. It feels rushed initially, Taehyung’s hands slipping beneath Jungkook’s sweater to squeeze his waist and force him to grind against his body. But Taehyung’s mouth is slow as it leaves Jungkook’s to trail kisses along his jaw instead and eventually drops to suck on the skin where his scent gland is.

“Tae,” Jungkook moans and digs his fingers in Taehyung’s curls to hold him in place as Taehyung laps at the invisible spot where his scent gland is, licking and swirling the smooth skin until all that surrounds them is the sweet, floral smell of Jungkook’s arousal.

The burning desire pulsing through Jungkook’s body deepens when Taehyung scrapes his teeth against his skin. They could mate right now. Taehyung could bite him, permanently marking him with the scarred puncture of his teeth in his neck so everyone would know that Jungkook belonged to him. It would hurt terribly, but Jungkook wants it. They’re in love; why should they deny what their instincts tell them to do, even if tiger hybrids aren’t supposed to mate with bunny hybrids?

The desire to submit to Taehyung is so strong that it scares Jungkook, so he quickly tugs on Taehyung’s hair to pull him away from his neck.

When Jungkook meets Taehyung’s gaze, he understands why he’s so overcome with desire and heat, why his mind is telling him to do things he usually doesn’t. One look at Taehyung’s dark eyes with dilated pupils, and Jungkook knows.

“Bun,” Taehyung’s call is rough, nearly a growl.

Jungkook doesn’t listen to him. He twists from Taehyung’s grasp and nearly knocks over a chair to reach his backpack. Shoving his laptop and planner inside, Jungkook doesn’t bother checking what Taehyung is doing. He throws the study room’s door open and rushes down the hall. Conveniently, they’re on the ground level, making it easy for Jungkook to slip out of the front doors. The cold afternoon air paralyzes Jungkook’s lungs and cools his blood. He’s breathing so hard that he’s nearly hyperventilating. Each inhale hurts, but the situation thrills him. All he can think about is running. He has to find somewhere to hide. Instincts tell him to go home, but his heart urges him toward Taehyung’s apartment.

Campus clears out on snowy days. Very few people go outside on the weekends, so Jungkook has little trouble weaving through people, taking the sidewalks between the predators’ side of campus and the coed middle grounds. Despite Jungkook’s hurried pace, nearly a light jog, he doesn’t draw much attention to himself with the hood of his coat pulled over his head to hide his ears. The hood prevents him from seeing if Taehyung is catching up to him, but he’s too focused on getting away to check.

Something about the prickling of the hairs on his forearms and the back of his neck, despite being protected from the cold, makes Jungkook think that Taehyung is near. He feels like he’s being watched, crept upon. Reaching the dorm, his heart falls into his stomach when he belatedly remembers that he can’t get inside. His keycard only gives him entrance to prey hybrid dorms.

He could wait for someone to exit the building and quickly slip inside after them, but he can't get into Taehyung’s apartment unit unless Hoseok is home! But Jungkook really hopes Hoseok isn’t home.

Before Jungkook can panic about what to do, firm hands spin him around and shove him against the side of the building. His backpack protects him from hitting the wall, but he still gets the air knocked out of him.

“Think you can run away from me, bun?” Taehyung’s hands slide from Jungkook’s waist to palm his ass, squeezing it when Jungkook gasps.

“N-No,” Jungkook stutters when one of Taehyung’s hands slides underneath his coat to play with his fluffy tail.

“You like riling me up.”

Jungkook does. He likes it when Taehyung towers over him, his amber eyes turn dark, and his smooth voice turns gravelly. He likes the prickle of fear that heightens his senses when Taehyung gets like this and how it triggers something inside Jungkook that he’s never felt before — even if it’s unknown and scary.

“I told you I love you, and you ran away from me,” Taehyung growls against Jungkook’s throat, and Jungkook realizes how bad that looks.

Taehyung has gotten like this a handful of times before. Each time, his affection for Jungkook or his desire to protect him triggered the almost feral switch in his personality. Jungkook shouldn’t have left Taehyung alone after he’d been so brave by confessing his love.

“I’m sorry, Tae. I didn’t mean to.”

“Why did you do it?” Taehyung sounds genuinely hurt, and Jungkook’s heart breaks.

“I got scared.”

Taehyung whines and shoves his face into Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Not of you!” Jungkook quickly reaches for Taehyung’s ears, scratching them and playing with the curls surrounding them. “Not you, Tae. I was scared of… myself and how I reacted.”

“Don’t understand,” Taehyung murmurs. The hand that had been playing with Jungkook’s tail is now gripping his throat so Taehyung can tilt his neck to scent him.

They’re doing this in public. Few people have ventured outside, but they’re in the open, easily seen even by the predator hybrids in their dormitories. Jungkook’s mind is so foggy with the comforting pleasure of Taehyung’s scent mixing with his and the lust that shoots through him every time Taehyung squeezes his ass to coax his hips to grind against his.

“I want things,” Jungkook says with a shudder rippling through his body when Taehyung gently bites his neck.

Taehyung groans impatiently, “What?”

“To, um,” Jungkook feels his face heat up when Taehyung steps back to look at him. He’s never felt more embarrassed in his life. “Submit… to you…” he whispers the rest and is unable to look Taehyung in the eyes. As a predator hybrid, Taehyung will know what Jungkook means, likely even more than Jungkook understands himself.

“Fuck.”

Jungkook’s legs feel like jelly when Taehyung tugs him through the dormitory’s front doors. He trips up the stairs, relying on Taehyung to keep him from falling as they make their way to his apartment. With a face hardened by determination, Taehyung doesn’t even let Jungkook take off his shoes once they stumble into the entryway of his apartment. He kneels to pull Jungkook’s boots off while Jungkook unzips his coat. They must be loud, stomping, breathing heavily, and Taehyung throwing shoes into the corner, because Hoseok peeks around the corner from the living room.

“Hey guys! What’s—”

“Hyung, I’m gonna fuck Jungkook right now,” Taehyung interrupts and both Hoseok and Jungkook’s eyes widen at how explicit and blunt he is. “So if you don’t wanna hear it, you should leave.”

“Oh.” Hoseok watches as Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s wrist and leads him down the hallway.

Sorry, Jungkook mouths, afraid to hurt Taehyung’s feelings if he says it out loud. Despite being bossed around by a very demanding Taehyung, Hoseok simply grins.

“Taehyung, I can’t believe you kicked Hobi hyung out,” Jungkook playfully scolds Taehyung once his bedroom door is closed. His giggles die when Taehyung grabs him by the front of his sweater and pulls him toward the bed.

“No offense, but I don’t care about hyung right now.”

A bit of clarity has returned to Taehyung’s features. His pupils aren’t as dilated, and his voice is still deep but no longer distorted. The tingle of power radiating from him still exists, though, keeping Jungkook’s skin hot and fear in his chest.

“Okay,” Jungkook nods and lets Taehyung pull his sweater over his head.

Taehyung quickly removes the rest of Jungkook’s clothes, replacing them with kisses covering each strip of exposed skin as he tugs off his jeans. All the attention makes Jungkook shy. This being only the second time he’s been intimate with Taehyung, Jungkook feels like he still doesn’t know what to do as Taehyung kisses him and guides his hands to the waistband of his joggers, encouraging Jungkook to pull them down. Jungkook is timid with each brush of his fingers against Taehyung’s skin. He admires how toned his body is, naturally lean as a predator hybrid, with muscles that Jungkook has to work to get.

“Bun,” Taehyung murmurs against Jungkook’s lips as he slips his fingers through his silky, dark hair and lightly tugs. “Are you gonna submit to me?”

The gentle yet dirty question makes Jungkook whimper despite his embarrassment at being reminded of his confession. He opens his eyes when Taehyung encourages him to tilt his head back by lightly pulling his hair. Even though Taehyung is speaking and behaving more like himself, there’s still a wild look in his eyes.

“Y-Yes,” Jungkook nods, and Taehyung slowly lets go of his hair.

“Good bun. Let me see.”

Kneeling on Taehyung’s bed, Jungkook slowly eases himself down onto his forearms, keeping his upper body low to the bed and his ass up. He’s been in this position before with Taehyung, but something feels different about it now. Perhaps it’s because this isn’t just a quick fuck. Love is involved this time. Maybe that’s naive and cliche, but Jungkook feels it when Taehyung runs his hands along his back. 

“Relax, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” 

Taehyung presses his thumbs into the muscles of Jungkook’s back, where he must feel knots and points of tension, massaging Jungkook until he’s a puddle on the bed. Taehyung is always taking care of Jungkook. Part of Jungkook feels bad; all he’s done is give Taehyung a handjob. He’s still shy and unsure about what to do, but it doesn’t seem like Taehyung cares. 

To adjust Jungkook’s position, Taehyung grabs his hips and pulls him back until he’s kneeling at the edge of the bed, allowing Taehyung to stand behind him. Jungkook falls forward even more when Taehyung stands between his legs so he can spread Jungkook’s knees as wide as he wants.

“Do you always get this wet, or is it just me?” Taehyung asks as he rubs his fingers around Jungkook’s rim. Jungkook doesn’t turn around to look at him, but he can hear the cocky attitude in his tone, and it makes him even wetter.

“Just you,” Jungkook moans when Taehyung squeezes his hip and presses two fingers inside him. 

His response isn’t a lie to stroke Taehyung’s ego; Jungkook has never even cum more than once on his own. Something about Taehyung brings out this needy, desperate, depraved version of Jungkook. Taehyung is slow as he fucks Jungkook with his fingers, twisting and crooking them so they hit his prostate with each thrust. He massages it, pressing hard enough to make Jungkook’s legs shake, before pulling back again.

“You’re even wetter than last time.”

Jungkook hopes Hoseok really did leave because his moans grow louder as Taehyung uses his free hand to reach around Jungkook and squeeze his cock.

“Is it because I love you?” Taehyung asks softly against the nape of Jungkook’s neck when he leans over him and rolls his palm over the head of Jungkook’s cock. “Is that why you’re so wet, baby?”

Jungkook lets out a breathy whine and tries to push back against Taehyung’s fingers when he stops moving them. 

“Oh, it is,” Taehyung grins against Jungkook's shoulder, his teeth pressed into his skin.

“Taehyung, please.”

It’s not fair that Taehyung can read Jungkook like this. It makes Jungkook’s face heat up, especially when it’s obvious how his body reacts to Taehyung’s teasing. 

Kissing Jungkook’s nape, Taehyung’s lips follow his spine until he reaches his tail, skipping over that and leaving a kiss on each cheek. His hot breath and soft lips tickle, and Jungkook almost giggles until he feels Taehyung slip his cock between his cheeks. Taehyung grinds against him, slicking up his cock and making Jungkook moan every time the head of his cock catches against Jungkook’s rim. 

“You sound so pretty, bun,” Taehyung praises as Jungkook chants his name between breathy ah, ah, ah’s. “You look pretty, too, like this. I love seeing your gorgeous face, but…” 

Jungkook jolts forward with a moan when Taehyung slaps his ass, making the muscle jiggle. The sting shocks Jungkook, and the pleasure that comes from it. His weak whimpers must encourage Taehyung to do it again because he slaps Jungkook twice more in the same spot, each hit slightly harder than the previous. 

“Taehyung, please, please, just f-fuck me.” Jungkook might be an independent, confident person outside of the bedroom, but he isn’t above begging when Taehyung’s teasing him and torturing him. 

“Alright, baby, I’ll give you what you want,” Taehyung chuckles, and Jungkook’s face feels like a wildfire. 

A hiccuped sob tumbles from Jungkook’s chest when Taehyung slowly sinks his cock inside him. The position lets Taehyung reach deeper than he had before. It feels strange, and Jungkook panics for a moment when Taehyung squeezes his hips with both hands. 

“Tae,” Jungkook leans on his forearms and twists his head to look back at Taehyung. 

“Hmm?” 

Taehyung looks gorgeous, with a healthy glow and bright eyes, even while wild. The veins in his arms are raised, and his biceps flex when he squeezes Jungkook’s hips to guide him back onto his cock. 

“It’s a lot,” Jungkook moans at Taehyung’s first real thrust. 

“I’ll be careful, baby,” Taehyung runs his palm up Jungkook’s back, soothing him with his gentle touch. “If it hurts, tell me, okay?”

Nodding, Jungkook lets his head hang as Taehyung thrusts into him again. The thrusts start slow, Taehyung building them up until he’s properly fucking into Jungkook with more power. He digs his fingers into Jungkook’s hips and pulls him down on his cock to meet each thrust.

They’re messy and loud, the wet slap of Jungkook’s ass against Taehyung’s body a steady beat to Jungkook’s loud moans. He can’t keep quiet, can barely keep himself grounded. Every drag of Taehyung’s thick cock against his walls makes Jungkook’s head spin. 

“You good, bun?” Taehyung grunts, adjusting his angle to make sure he hits Jungkook’s prostate each time he fucks into him. 

Unable to speak, Jungkook hums, sounding more like a needy whimper than anything else. Jungkook can tell that Taehyung is holding back so he doesn’t hurt him. He fists the bed sheets to give himself something to hold onto and tries not to let his knees give out or his face smash into the mattress when Taehyung reaches around his waist to pump his cock. 

The angle is awkward, and it’s hard for Taehyung to fuck Jungkook deeply if he’s leaning forward to reach his cock. After a few tugs, Taehyung wraps his hand around Jungkook’s wrist to pull his arm out from underneath him. 

“Touch yourself for me,” Taehyung commands, his voice too soft and smooth for what they’re doing. Hearing it makes Jungkook’s body quivers. 

“Feels so good,” Jungkook sighs as he begins fisting his cock, doing his best to keep up with Taehyung’s thrusts. 

“Yeah?”

Jungkook is a screamer. It’s embarrassing, but he can’t stop himself from wailing when he cums into his hand. His body spasms, making his other arm slip from underneath him. His body slumps forward onto the mattress, but Taehyung’s grip on his hips keeps him on his knees. 

“Keep going, come on.” 

Taehyung threads his fingers through Jungkook’s hair and holds him, doesn’t press down or tug, just keeps his hand there in an intimate touch gentler than how roughly he fucks him. It doesn’t take much more to have Jungkook coming again, his second orgasm apparently following his first fairly quickly – another new thing for him to learn about himself. 

“That’s it, bun, fuck,” Taehyung helps Jungkook finish himself off, lacing their fingers together so they can both fist his cock. 

Taehyung pushes Jungkook forward so he can kneel on the bed and drape his body over Jungkook’s, caging him in as he reaches his climax. When he cums, he bites Jungkook’s neck hard enough to bruise the skin but not break it. The throbbing pain makes Jungkook cum again, this time ending in a weak whimper that Taehyung captures in a kiss as he hovers over Jungkook’s body. 

“Fuck, I love you so much, Jungkook,” Taehyung whispers, and Jungkook can’t stop his tail from wiggling despite the embarrassment it brings him. 

“Oh my god,” Jungkook squirms, trying to escape from being underneath Taehyung, who smothers his laughter against Jungkook’s neck. “Taehyung, get away from me.” 

“Are you that happy? Getting all wiggly over here,” Taehyung coos. “Trembly and wiggly baby.” 

So much for being sexy. 

Later, after they shower, Jungkook has to sweep away the disappointment he feels when he looks in the mirror and notices there aren’t any puncture wounds or drops of blood on his neck. It’s not time, but maybe one day it will be. Clearly, Taehyung wants it too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have risked a bruising bite that could have turned into a mating bite. Maybe Jungkook is getting ahead of himself. Maybe Taehyung is the one he’s meant to be with. 

“It looks good on you.” Taehyung’s whisper turns into a kiss on Jungkook’s temple when he squeezes past him in the small bathroom. 

“What?” 

Their eyes meet in the mirror; Taehyung’s a calm amber again. He touches the edge of Jungkook’s jaw, running one long finger along the edge and down his neck until he reaches the bite mark around his scent gland. When he presses on it, Jungkook whimpers. 

“This…” 

Holding Jungkook’s neck, Taehyung guides him to turn and raise his chin so he can kiss him from where Taehyung stands behind Jungkook. 

“You think so?” Jungkook doesn’t open his eyes, just basks in the smell of Taehyung’s shampoo and the warmth of their naked bodies pressed together. 

“Of course, bun.” 

Jungkook finally opens his eyes when Taehyung pulls away. 

“I have something for you,” Taehyung says quietly, focused on wrapping his towel around his waist. Hoseok was nowhere to be found when they emerged from Taehyung’s bedroom, but there’s no knowing if he has returned since their shower. 

The prospect of receiving a gift makes Jungkook giddy, not because he cares about material things, but because he likes the idea of Taehyung seeing something and thinking of him. 

“What is it?” he asks excitedly, a little annoyed when Taehyung won’t look him in the eyes. That is until he sees the pink blooming across the apples of Taehyung's cheeks. 

“I have to take you home to give it to you,” Taehyung says quietly, finally giving Jungkook a small smile when he looks up. “Home, home.” 

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

[deepdisireslonging]

No Cum November Part 7: Double Possession

The team found the last details needed to defeat the ghost. It requires another ritual with the reader in the middle, and their ability to keep their mind when the Winchesters lose theirs to possession.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Warnings/Promises: ritualistic SMUT

Word Count: 1100

Note: For those of you participating in the challenge, how are you holding up? This was a fun one to write, and the inspiration for the series. Let me know how you guys are enjoying it in the comments and reblogs. Happy reading!

Part 6: Dripping

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Dean held back from finishing a knot. “We can switch places, easy. The ghost doesn’t care who’s the receiver.”

Turns out for the campus ghost, there was a grave. A special one, reserved for the professors descended from the first dean of the college. It had taken three more study sessions to puzzle out the location. It was hidden behind the Classic’s library, the old school’s original library before the larger, modern one was built. Where, fifty years ago, the Greek rituals professor worked. The texts for the summoning the fertility god, Priapus, had been in the older library. And it was close to the student’s first orgy. Having found it, you were all going to try the ritual again. One of the first victims had been a student of the professor Dean talked to earlier. Apparently, the grad student was fishing for a PHD concept, summoning Priapus through the ghost of the long-retired professor, and they had taken down two other students with them. You all had disturbed the grave again, opening it fully for this ritual. This time with you tied to the deceased’s tombstone.

“I can do it.” You arched into Sam’s hand as he copped a feel. “I can do it. Start reading.”

This time, they both took position. Dean in front, with Sam behind you. The cold headstone bit into your stomach. The ropes, a soft cording that was helpfully slippery, crisscrossed over your joints, knotting at sensitive zones. Sam knelt, pushing your panties out of the way. Due to the semi-public nature of the location, the boys had opted for you to keep your bra and panties on. But as Sam dove into your sex, you wondered if your underclothes would survive the ritual.

Dean palmed himself as he began reading the text. His voice strained as his cock swelled in his jeans. It wasn’t long before he brought it into the open, tapping the head at your lips. You took him into your mouth. Sucking and hollowing your cheeks made his chanting falter. Behind you, Sam stood, satisfied with how much your sex was dripping. He joined Dean in the chanting, filling you an inch at a time between verses. You heard the flick of the lighter, soon followed by the dripping of hot wax onto your back. He let them fall methodically into the symbols. Dean kept your hair out of the way, careful not to disturb the circle as he had in the first attempt.

Something was different.

When you all had done this in the school, all you could feel were the boys. But now, the air was crisper. More frosty than autumnal. If Dean’s cock hadn’t been in your mouth, you’re sure your breath would have fogged.

The air shifted.

That was your cue.

You easily slipped out of the ropes, prepared to take it upon yourself to keep the professor’s ghost occupied while the guys salted and burned the grave. What you hadn’t taken into account was that while you’d be able to get easily out of the ropes, you wouldn’t necessarily be able to get out of the boy’s grip. They continued to fill you, tease you, take what they needed. Only then did you notice that their chanting was unnaturally even and in synch.

You managed to look up at Dean. His eyes were closed. You gently scraped your teeth along his underside to make his gaze flutter. Under his eyelids, a silver film had taken over. You were sure Sam’s eye looked the same.

A fifth hand ran along your spine. It drifted a finger around the wax circle, tracing the runes. Sam’s candle drips never stopped, and they fell through the hand as if it wasn’t there.

This was it. You would have to move quickly and delicately. Somehow the grave had to be destroyed. But the Winchesters couldn’t leave your holes, or the ghost would take their place and you’d cum yourself to death. Not the worst way to go, but you’d rather it be because of one or both of your lovers, not due to the ghost of some horny professor’s poltergeist.

Dean groaned as you reached up and tightened your hand around the base of his cock. It held him in place, but knocked him off balance. His foot fell back, keeping him aloft. But it knocked the bucket of salt over. Giving his a twist sent his steadying foot into the can of gasoline. You gave it a few moments to leak over the remains before turning your attention onto Sam.

It was hard to focus with how hard he was pounding into you. And the wax kept coming. What had started as a manageable circle had grown to an outward spiral of wax. Each drop made you shudder. Sam wasn’t going to last much longer either. He leaned forward, reaching around with his free hand to flick at your clit. It spotted your vision with stars. You clenched your walls frantically, flexing around Sam’s cock suddenly enough to loosen his grip on the candle. The drips drifted over your back until the candle fell into the grave.

The pit ignited. Beside you, the professor’s ghost went up in flames. The slightly sweet smell told the back of your brain that the Greek god had been dismissed as well.

Still, Dean and Sam continued to fill you. You managed to give Dean’s waist a hard shove, sending him flailing into the grass. Kicking Sam’s ankles and shins also sent him flying. You rolled onto the ground behind the tombstone, shuddering with another stolen release. As you panted, you watched them continue to hump the air as they returned to consciousness.

“Y/N?”

“Heya, Dean. You alright?”

He ran a hand over his eyes. “Yeah.” With a growl, he tucked himself away so he could roll onto his stomach. The ground muffled his complaints.

“Sam?” you called back.

“I’m good. You?”

“Alive.”

“That’s good.”

They crawled over to you. Whispering apologies into your skin, they joined you in a heap on the ground. Dean recovered first. He managed to wrap you in the robe they’d brought. Sam helped you to your feet after he managed to get to his.

“You know,” you cupped the side of Dean’s face, “that Priapus guy isn’t very good. I’d rather have you two any day.”

Sam chuckled. “We appreciate that. Ready to go home?”

“One more thing.” The books sparked when they landed in the grave, going up in smoke in minutes. You watched them reduce to ashes before following the boys to the Impala.

***

Part 8: Exorcism Play (with Demon!Dean)

Series Masterlist

[corruptedcaps]

Anticipation

Amelia had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of Halloween for the entire year. Her anticipation was palpable, a simmering excitement that seemed to intensify with each passing day. Her only friend on campus, Lily, was puzzled as to why she seemed so focused on the holiday. Her memory of Halloween last year had been the two of them in their pyjamas watching scary movies, but there was something Lily didn’t know…

As the leaves began to change, and the air turned crisper, Amelia’s anticipation reached its zenith. Her excitement for Halloween was driven by a dark secret she'd been keeping for a year. It all started the previous Halloween when, in a last-minute costume crisis, she reluctantly bought a 'sexy school uniform' outfit. She had hesitated initially, but the need for a costume pushed her into the purchase. Little did she know, that seemingly innocuous decision would forever change her life.

As she slipped into the costume, something strange happened. Not only did she physically transform into a bratty, mean girl with blonde hair, big tits, a tan complexion, and perfect poise, but her personality underwent a radical shift as well. She became "Emily," a persona so different from her true self that it felt like an alter ego. As Emily, Amelia reveled in a world of confidence, entitlement, and a self-assured attitude that was the complete opposite of her usual demeanor.

She strode around her college campus with all eyes on her. Girls who in any other situation wouldn’t give her the time of day were now flocking to her, showering her with compliments and praise. The universe itself had seemed to warp and create a reality where she was the most popular and feared girl in college. Head of the most sought after sorority, she took great pleasure in being the campus bitch.

However, the transformation was fleeting. By the morning after Halloween, she was back to being herself, Amelia, and reality had changed back to accommodate. The previous night had been as temporary as a dream. Feeling bewildered and somewhat disgusted by the person she'd become as Emily she swore to destroy the costume. Yet, in the weeks and months that followed, a strange longing began to take hold of her. The memory of being Emily, despite its brattiness and contradictions to her real character, left her feeling strangely alive and powerful.

As the months passed she only fantasized more and more about being Emily, but despite her numerous attempts of wearing the costume in her dorm privately, the changes wouldn’t happen again. However this didn’t stop her from putting it on almost nightly and pleasuring herself to the memories of being the bratty bitch.

Lily had walked in on her once as she was wearing the costume and had gently teased her friend, telling her that neither one of them were cheerleader material. Amelia angrily told her to get out, and cryptically said that she would show her soon enough.

Amelia surmised that the costume would only work on Halloween night itself and after further research online it revealed this not only to be true but there was a way to permanently remain as Emily. All she had to do was getting fucked while wearing it and Amelia almost snorted at how easy a task that would be. As Emily she had had many advances from men of all kinds but she believed her change to be permanent at the time and so only teased them.

Now, as the next Halloween approached, Amelia couldn't contain her excitement. She yearned to become Emily once again, she could cast aside her inhibitions and embrace the persona that had captivated her so deeply, even if it was evil, vain and cruel. She had ignored the numerous calls and texts from her Lily as the day approached, swearing to herself madly that she’d make Lily her victim.

Halloween had arrived at last, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, Amelia's excitement reached a fever pitch. She dashed home, eager to put on the outfit that had changed her life the year before. However, when she flung open her bedroom door, her heart sank. Standing their in front of her mirror was a blonde of immense beauty smirking, clad in the very outfit Amelia had been desperate to wear. Despite her transformation there was no doubt as to who it was.

Amelia stared at her friend in disbelief. "Lily, what are you doing here, why are you wearing my Halloween costume?”

Lily's new persona seemed to match the costume perfectly. Her voice dripped with a self-assured arrogance that had never been there before. "I came to see you because you had been ignoring my texts for weeks, but then I found this magnificent costume, my costume. It called out to me to wear it and I’m glad it did because it’s made me feel so bratty and bitchy, I can see why you were ignoring me."

"Lily, you can't do this! You don't understand what it's like to be Emily."

Lily merely chuckled, twirling a strand of her newly blonde hair. "Emily? Who the fuck is Emily? I’m Eliza now, or at least that’s what Chad was calling me, and I can do whatever the fuck I want!”

Amelia’s blood ran cold at the mention of Chad’s name. Chad was the most handsome, richest and meanest guy on campus, but more than that Amelia had decided he was going to be the one that would permanently make her into Emily. If Eliza knew who Chad was then she only hoped it meant she hadn’t…

“Hey babe, ready to go? Who’s your friend?” Said Chad as he came into the room. He wrapped his hands around Eliza’s waist and nuzzled his head into her neck kissing her. Eliza moaned softly at this and playfully pushed him away.

“Three times not enough for you baby?”. She said grabbing the front of his crotch and Amelia’s heart sank as she knew it was too late. She could already feel reality shifting around her. Eliza was the alpha bitch on campus, she was known for her cruel comments as much as she was known for her flawless beauty.

Amelia tried to fight the reality that was closing in around her but she couldn’t, she had sudden flashes of memories of being on the receiving end of Eliza’s barbed comments more than once. The bitch would take special joy in crafting just the right put downs for her. Eliza was the hottest, meanest bitch on campus and she made sure everyone knew.

“Oh and her? She’s not a friend, she’s a nobody. I was just making sure this nerd was working on my bio assignment. Now let’s get back to your car, maybe we can squeeze in number 4 before the party.” Eliza said with a smirk to her man and a sneer to Amelia.

Once they left, Amelia sat down sadly in front of her computer and pulled up the bio paper she had been in the middle of. All memories of the costume and of Lily her friend had disappeared and she resigned herself to spending another Halloween alone. As she pulled up a webpage for reference a pop up ad for last minute Halloween costumes appeared. Her mouse hovered over the image of a sexy witch…

The End

[raindropsyndrome]

I gotta ask (of you're okay with answering of course!!) How do you get your traditional sketches- that are on paper- I'm assuming, so clean?

I'm totally envious of how pretty it is and how vibrant and clear it turns out in pictures!

I was wondering maybe what your process is or simply how you edit your art to look so pretty! 💜💜

Ahhh thank you!! I’m happy to help!

I’ll use Mikey for this demonstration :>

When traditionally sketching, I first start out with really light lines, then after getting a rough sketch down, I come in with darker lines, then I erase the lighter ones

The darker lines may also get partially erased, but because they’re darker and pressed into the paper more, they remain and I can still see them, so I can just go over them again without keeping my rougher light lines I’d done before

I rinse and repeat until I feel satisfied with my drawing!

Now for the editing, I just use my phone’s camera app editing settings

If this went by a bit too fast, (I’m so used to doing this at this point lol)

In short, what I did was turn the contrast up 100%, then brilliance up to 80% (this varies, it depends on the lighting I took the photo in,) and then I adjust the rest from there. With “highlights” being turned up pretty high, and “shadows” turned pretty low.

Then for the coloring I turned the saturation down to 0%, (for a crisper black and white look, I don’t do this all the way if I used color,) and then I put the “dramatic” filter on it, I like how the filter makes darker hues sharper and how it evens out lighter ones.

Also!! The “sharpness” setting is really nice for making your lines less blurry!! I turn that up to around 15-25%

The cropping is just a matter of framing the main subject well, then taking out unwanted space. I usually adjust angles before cropping, otherwise I might crop out something I wanted in

Here’s the before + after

I hope this wasn’t too confusing, lmk if you want any clarification!

[izpira-se-zlato]

GIG PSA: Get Earplugs

With the start of the Spring Tour officially two weeks out, here's your reminder to please, please get earplugs!

I'm not a spoilsport or a nagging busybody, but your hearing is important and tinnitus and hearing loss can seriously impact your life down the road -- and once it's gone, you can't get it back.

If you're worried about the experience at the gigs: I am a very big fan of the Loop Experience Earplugs (no, this is not sponsored). I started out with my sleep earplugs (custom fit, fully silicone), and those do muffle the sound. The Loops? They make the sound crisper, to me, actually improving the concert experience. And they're cheaper than most JO tickets, this tour!

But even cheap dollar store earplugs will go a long way to protect your hearing, so remember to pack them for the gigs and pop them in before we're all screaming as loud as we can 🫶

[molagboop]

Metroid Dread Model Deep Dive: Raven Beak, Part 1

You know him, you've (probably) fought him, he's a staple of this blog...

It's Raven Beak! We're finally doing this.

Today, I'm providing a comprehensive look into Raven Beak's model. I probably won't have enough space to cover the entire thing, as the image limit for Tumblr posts is capped at 30, but we're starting with the head and working our way down.

The rest of this post is under the cut for your convenience.

Navigation:

Fullbody turnaround and helmet meshes

Helmet details

Shoulders, arms, and hands

Arm cannon

Wings and torso

Legs and feet

BONUS: Naked head

Raven Beak is referred to as chozocommander in the files: his textures are abbreviated to "commander[whatever]" in the files, with the name of a mesh or general purpose specified in the square brackets (commanderbody, etc). Raven Beak appears in three maps: Hanubia, Artaria, and Itorash. As Metroid Dread's cutscenes are executed in-engine, his model can be extracted from the map packages for the aforementioned regions.

There are several models linked to him during cutscenes that aren't part of his base model: chozocommander_arm, chozocommander_face (appears in Hanubia and after the mask breaks in Itorash), chozocommander_wing_r (which he rips off during the cutscene preceding phase 3 of his fight). chozocommander_arm is a more detailed version of his left arm that exists in the actor files for both Artaria and Itorash, the two zones where a cutscene involves the camera getting close to his arm while he chokes Samus out.

With that out of the way, our first order of business is his helmet, and there's a lot to look at.

Here's a list of all his meshes. We'll go over each part as they become relevant. Relevant to our current objective is helmethead, helmethead_clean, helmethead_cinematic, and brokenmask.

You'll notice that each of these have two meshes to their name. The names that are lower on the hierarchy are the actual helmets, and those higher on the hierarchy are overlays for the eyes to make them glow.

Here's what that looks like without scene lighting:

With the overlay...

... and without the overlay.

helmethead_clean features Raven Beak's helmet without the crack from the Super Missile: this is what we see during the opening cutscene in Artaria.

helmethead bestows the crack over the right eye.

Of all the helmet meshes, the cinematic version is the cleanest and most detailed: this one is used during parts of cutscenes where the camera zooms in on Raven Beak's face.

I'll be using this model to explore the smaller details.

All helmet meshes except the broken mask have their own textures: the broken mask uses the basic helmethead's textures.

brokenmask (left) and brokenmask01 (right). These are used to animate the sequence where the helmet breaks in the post-boss fight cutscene.

Earlier, I mentioned that the cinematic mesh is cleaner than the others. The textures and geometry on the cinematic mesh are crisper and more defined because it's used when we want to get a good look at his face: you don't need to see every plane of his beak in high definition during combat.

Here's a closeup of each primary model for the helmet to demonstrate. From left to right, we have helmethead_clean, helmethead, and helmethead_cinematic. helmethead_clean appears to have the lowest clarity in its textures. helmethead is passable, but the planes on helmethead_cinematic are leagues cleaner: there's very little artifacting (the janky crunch affiliated with lower quality jpgs), the colors appear richer, and effort was made to define the negative space.

Look at the owl-shaped crest in the center of the headdress (helmethead left, helmethead_cinematic right): there are darker lines between the arch behind the head, and care was put into darkening the spaces between the eyebrows, around the eyes, etc.

I've already hit the image limit, so we're going to examine the details on his face even further in another post: I've waited so long to share all the little differences between these helmet meshes in excruciating detail, so I suppose it's only fitting that our first entry is more about that than it is showing off the finer details of the headdress and mask themselves.

I would not have been able to dive this deep a year ago when the image limit was capped at 10. I hope they increase it further so I can inflict you with more model facts.

I am working on the second post. The navigation section at the top of the post will be updated as things go live.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic Preview

Chapter 35 of Come Away, O Human Child be cookin', yo.

“It’s just bullsh—uh, crap!” Buck says, catching himself at the last moment and flashing a guilty look at the kitchen table, where Chris is doing his homework. Fortunately, he seems too caught up in his science vocabulary sheet to have noticed Buck’s slip. He turns back to the chopping board, attacking the green onions with a little more force than necessary.

Eddie—relegated to handing Buck each vegetable as he requests them for the stir-fry Christopher wanted for dinner, and seemingly perfectly happy with his level of involvement in the prep—sighs and shakes his head. He pulls a pepper out of the crisper drawer when Buck finishes with the onions. “It is, but there’s not much we can do about it. It’s—I’m not happy about it, but that’s a pretty major thing to just…not disclose,” he says, frowning to himself.

Buck takes the pepper and slices it with more speed than skill, his movements quick and angry. “It’s not fair!” he insists. “Bobby’s…Bobby’s a great captain! His—” He sucks in a breath and lowers his voice with another glance at Chris. “His whole family died,” he hisses. “He doesn’t deserve to be punished for not wanting to talk about it!”

“Buck,” Eddie says. “You know it’s not just that he didn’t tell the brass about his family.”

Buck tenses, his magic sparking inside him like a livewire. Outside the window over the sink, some of the neighborhood wisps zip through the air, those in close enough proximity to him seeming to respond to his agitation. “It’s not fair,” he repeats mulishly.

“It’s not,” Eddie agrees. “But the brass is in a tough spot, too. Bobby…” he sighs again. “Bobby lied. Maybe it was a lie of omission, but it was still a lie.”

“He was cleared! I know you looked up the report the same way I did. The fire suppression wards in that building were a joke! The Lesser Fae and Small Creatures union sued the company that built it into the ground! I mean—I mean, that place was a timebomb waiting to go off.”

“And Bobby lit the fuse,” Eddie says quietly, reluctantly. “Look…I trust Bobby with my life. I’d trust him with Chris’s life. Even—even at his worst, I know he’d never have deliberately hurt anyone. But there’s no way the chief can just ignore this, Buck.” He pulls out a couple of carrots from the fridge and holds them out like a peace offering.

Buck clenches his teeth as he chops them, breathing through his nose as his magic continues to roil like storm-tossed ocean waves inside him. He clamps down on it tightly, staring out the window at the cloud of wisps darting through the night air. He glances over at Eddie’s reflection in the glass to find his partner staring at him with narrowed eyes.

“Hey mijo, why don’t you finish that up after dinner?” Eddie says suddenly. Chris looks up from his homework, confused. “You can go watch TV until it’s time to set the table, okay?”

Chris narrows his eyes in a suspicious expression that looks startlingly like Eddie’s, but the lure of extra cartoons is too much to resist. He snaps his workbook closed and scurries out of his seat, his crutches helpfully hopping over from where they’re leaning against the wall when he snaps his fingers with a burst of spring-green light. Buck makes a mental note to redo the charms on them before he leaves tonight. The enchantments don’t really need reinforcement, yet, but it’ll help him burn off some of the twisting, coiling energy snapping through his body like lightning.

As soon as Christopher is out of earshot, Eddie turns to face him fully, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s going on with you?” he says simply.

You want that alphabetically, or by order of importance? he thinks bitterly, biting back the laugh that wants to bubble out of him, certain that it would come out more than a little hysterical. Instead, he shakes his head, finally dumping all the chopped vegetables into a bowl together and moving on to the package of thawed chicken breasts sitting in the sink. “Nothing,” he says, wincing when it comes out sharper than he intended it to. Eddie raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Look, I get that this is stressful, but you can’t let it get to you like this.”

“It’s not getting to me,” he insists.

“Dad, come look at all the wisps outside!” Chris cries an instant later. “They’re right up against the windows!”

Eddie tilts his head and levels another look at Buck. “You smell like a lightning storm rolling in, man.”

Buck swallows hard, making a greater effort to calm the magic that wants to leap to his fingertips, fly out of him in all directions. He’s not in danger of losing control—he never is, no matter how much emotional turmoil he experiences—but he’s throwing out more ambient magic than usual. Hence the light show apparently going on outside the living room windows. He takes a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, then started slicing the chicken into strips, trying to calm himself with the familiar rhythm of cooking. Eddie leans against the counter next to him, not saying anything.

[jccatstudios]

Hey! Hope you don"t mind me asking so many questions about your process, I promise my style is entirely different, the general theme of your art though is what ive been striving for! Please dont hesitate to share any limits to it!

Anyway, how do you clean up your drawings:0? I believe you said you start out on paper, so how do you get it on digital without it looking messy? Thanks!

No problem! Asking questions is the best way to learn anything, and I don't mind answering them.

I do start off on paper and transfer it to digital. Below is a comparison of chapter 3, page 17's scan file (all traditional, no edits done yet) versus its digitally cleaned-up version (left to right).

The edits on this page are heavier in comparison to some of the other pages, especially since I made a mistake that would affect the narrative (see bottom right panel).

To scan, I usually use the large flatbed Epson scanners provided by my school. When I'm away or on vacation, I resort to using a copier machine (not always great results, but it works out in the end. The first six pages of chapter 3 were copier machine scans). There's a setting called "Gamma" that I like to set to around 1.2. I don't know what it does, but it makes the pages look crisper overall.

After I import my scan file to Clip Studio, I create two correction layers to put on top of the page. One is a tone curve layer and the other is a posterization layer. For the former, I try to make an "S" curve to push the contrast. For the latter, I set it to around 6. These correction layers help the black-and-white contrast shine and define the edges better.

The last step before toning and lettering is the edit layer. I create a new raster layer to make corrections to the page. Sometimes, I have to go in and redraw a large section (like in the last panel), but most of the time, I'm going in and cleaning up areas. My white ink isn't always opaque, so it'll create a gray tone that I have to add digital white over. Other edits include adding in smaller things I forgot to draw or stuff that just would be easier to draw digitally.

[acetechne]

Classicstober: 12. Theseus & 3. Asterion

I'm already way behind so forgive me for combining them :' ) obviously i wanted to pick one where the minotaur lives up to his "starry" name.

It was intimidating to try to do a study of black figure; I whipped out my trusty pentel pocket brush pen for the purpose. The copics on the edging were actually worse for bleed than the rest of the ink! I'd like to aim for crisper lines in the future but I'm trying to use this project to relax and study rather than get something clean, if that makes sense.