#like!! it’s a good idea for a drawing i think and it’s turning out the way i pictured it but!! i feel weird about it!! aarghhh!!

[y3sterdaysproblem]

the catalyst - c.s.

this takes place prior to the two final screenshots in part ten

cw: (almost) cheating, suggestive implications, chris being an asshole

wc: 4k

part of the fwb!chris series

no doubt about it, you had to be drunk if you were going to this party.

normally you would pull up to parties with chris, have him pick you up or at least meet you there and wait outside until you showed up so you could walk in together, but now with him talking to this new girl (lia, you found out), you had to show up by yourself. it wasn’t a problem, you were pretty independent in your every day life, but something about showing up to a party by yourself felt embarrassing when it’s been so long since you’ve had to. despite your feelings, you didn’t want to appear too affected by chris’s new situation he had going on, so you were still going to go, just after pregaming a little harder than usual.

on the ride over there, you almost found yourself wanting to ask the driver to turn around and go back home, not wanting to stumble into somebody’s house an hour after everyone had already shown up and draw attention to yourself and your obvious loneliness. you talked yourself out of it, though, continuing on the short drive until you had pulled up to the typical hang out spot, thanking your driver and getting out.

the door was unlocked as usual, and you pushed it open and went inside as quietly as you could, doing your best to walk past people you didn’t really know to make your way to the kitchen to grab another drink. you were barely two seconds into pouring a mixer into a plastic cup when you feel somebody step up next to you, and you don’t have to tear your gaze away from what you’re doing to know who it is.

“when did you get here?” he questions, standing so close to you your arms are brushing together. you don’t answer him until your drink is made, bringing it up to your lips to take a sip. once it’s swallowed, you turn your body to face him, eyes landing on his that are already watching you. “a few minutes ago,” you answer. “why, were you waiting for me?”

chris rolls his eyes and reaches forward to grab your cup from your hand, bringing it up to his own lips for a taste. he hands it back to you, grimacing at the sweet flavor. “god, you make the worst drinks,” he scoffs. “and no, I wasn’t waiting for you, was just surprised that you came so late, that’s all.” you take the cup back and let your fingers brush over his at the transfer, body already thrumming from how close you were, the feeling of pure want intensified by the alcohol already in your system.

your eyes hide nothing, giving away just how badly you wanted chris in the moment. you thought you’d be able to keep it under control, but with him standing so close and looking so good, the scent of his cologne wafting through your nostrils and infiltrating your senses. maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drink so much before coming. “chris,” you say in a soft tone, one that always makes him melt, but tonight he just shakes his head at you and reaches up to place both hands on either one of your shoulders. “not tonight. please behave yourself tonight. I have lia here and I really don’t want to mess this up. I promise i’ll make it up to you,” he begs, and he really sounds like he means it.

you always hated not getting what you wanted.

“but, chris,” you pout, dropping your head down a bit to give your eyes a wider appearance, bringing your hand up to rest on his chest. you’re about to speak again when he grabs your hand and pulls it away from him, pushing it back towards you. “i’m serious,” he says lowly. “not tonight.”

you groan and narrow your eyes at chris frustratedly, annoyed at his determination. “fine,” you agree. you take your hand that he pushed away from you and reach between your bodies, cupping chris’s dick through the black jeans he wore, keeping your eyes lock on his. “just know i’ll be thinking about you all night and wishing you would have your way with me.”

chris sucked in a sharp breath at your touch, knowing he should pull away but not having the willpower to. one of his hands leans against the counter for support, the other itching to grab you and pull you closer. you can feel him twitching under your hand, a hint of an erection forming as you groped him. he was about to give into your touch, about to pull you somewhere more private, but an unfamiliar voice pulled you both from the moment. your pulled your hand away from him and tucked it into the back pocket of your jeans that hugged your ass perfectly, other hand bringing your cup up to your lips.

“here you are!” a girl’s voice calls from the doorway of the kitchen, stepping up to chris’s side with a wide grin on her face, oblivious to the tension in the room. chris slings an arm around her waist loosely, now refusing to make eye contact with you, afraid this girl would see right through him if he looked at you. “here I am,” he says with a forced smile, turning his head to face her. she turns and looks up at him, naive adoration painted on her features. “is this the friend you were telling me about?”

he told her about me? you think to yourself, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “yeah,” chris says, clearing his throat as he turned back to look at you. “this is lia, the girl i’ve been seeing,” he introduces awkwardly and you tilt your head at her, smiling sweetly. “lia,” you hum, nodding your head. her hand comes out to greet you and all you can do is stare down at it, judging the way her acrylics were grown out and an ugly color. “i’m gonna go find your brother,” you tell chris, looking back up at him with a smirk, sending him a knowing wink before turning on your heel and heading towards the living room, hearing chris apologizing for your attitude quietly.

you did exactly as you promised, finding matt sitting on the floor with his back leaned up against the front of a couch and his legs crossed in front of him, laughing at something a friend had said. “hi, matt,” you greet sweetly, sitting directly next to him. his attention is grabbed by you immediately, lifting his arm to drape it around your shoulder as he smiled over at you. “hi, pretty girl,” he replied.

you made conversation with him for a few minutes before chris and lia came into the room, him looking uncomfortable and her looking happy as ever. she couldn’t even pick up on his emotions yet and he was so willing to drop everything for her. how could he be so infatuated with a girl that was so fucking dumb she couldn’t tell when she broke up a moment filled with sexual tension?

there isn’t much time to dwell on her lack of social awareness before somebody grabs your attention again, sitting across from you and matt. “okay, are we playing truth or dare or spin the bottle?” he asks drunkenly. chris audibly groans, lowering himself to the floor in a makeshift circle, lia sitting so close she should’ve just sat on top of him. “can we not do some childish shit, please?” he asks, tone laced with annoyance.

“what, scared you’re gonna have to kiss somebody, chris?” matt teases from next to you and you’re unable to contain the small giggle that leaves your lips. “or are you scared i’m gonna kiss your girl?”

matt’s arm squeezes around you when he says this and it takes you a moment to realize he’s not talking about the girl tucked into chris’s side, but rather about you. “i’m not scared of shit, asshole, I just don’t think we should be playing some fucking little kid games.” chris shoots back with a dramatic eye roll. “it’ll be fun!” lia says enthusiastically, wrapping both hands around chris’s bicep and shaking him lightly. he looks over at her and sends a tight lipped smile her way, his hand gently rubbing over her arm. “alright, whatever,” he concedes.

that’s how you all ended up playing truth or dare, spinning a bottle to decide who goes first. after a few rounds of stupid dares and pussy cop outs with people choosing truth, it’s matt’s turn to ask somebody a question. his attention turns to you, and a lazy smirk finds its way onto his lips. “truth or dare,” he asks you quietly and you can’t help but feel nervous at his tone. “dare,” you say instantly.

matt shifts a bit next to you before looking around the room, eyes landing on his brother for a moment before flitting back to you. “I dare you to make out with me for at least a minute,” he says after a few moments of thought. you’re a bit shocked at this, but quickly snap out of it and swing your leg over his lap, sitting atop his thighs happily. matt’s grinning up at you like a sick freak and you feel clued in on his intentions with the way he stares at you, so to bounce off of his energy, you turn your head to chris who’s staring at the two of you with dark, intense eyes, clearly not a fan of what was going on. “hey, chris?” you ask sweetly, tilting your head a bit. “can you start a timer, please?”

chris narrows his eyes at you, not liking the game you decided to play with him. he already wasn’t a big fan of your relationship with matt, but having to sit here and witness it himself was another level of fucked up. after he doesn’t answer, refusing to take his eyes off of you, the stupid, clueless girl next to him whips out her phone. “i’ll do it!” she says with a smile, holding up the timer. you roll your eyes and turn back to face matt, resting your forearms on his shoulders. “she’s so fucking stupid,” you whisper so only he can hear and he laughs at your comment before reaching up to rest his hand on the back of your head, pulling you down to meet his lips.

you’re instantly melting into the kiss, lips slotting together effortlessly, the taste of alcohol and juice on both of your tongues mingling. matt’s touch was so much gentler than chris’s, the way his hands slid up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and the way he took his time kissing you instead of rushing through it. between the way he felt holding you against him and the liquor running through your veins, you felt yourself getting carried away in the kiss, hips subtly grinding down on him as your hands found themselves in his hair, holding him close to you as you made out.

“minute’s up,” chris informs you both, but matt’s hands move down from your waist to your ass, fingers digging into the denim covering your skin, willing you even closer. “hello?” chris says again, louder this time, infuriated at the way you both seemed to get more into it. it’s not fully surprising when chris’s hand lands on your shoulder and roughly pulls you away from matt, almost ripping you off his lap. “enough,” he snaps, hand instinctively moving towards your jaw to turn your head to face him. your eyebrows immediately furrow together at his rough touch, hand pulling away from matt to shove into chris’s chest roughly. “back the fuck up, chris.”

he surprisingly listens, not wanting to cause an unnecessary scene in front of everybody, including lia, sitting back in his original position next to her. she seems slightly unnerved at his reaction, waiting a few moments before she places her hand back on his arm. “are you okay?” lia questions in her soft voice and chris doesn’t even glance her way, eyes locked on you as you climb off of matt’s lap and settle next to him again. “he’s fine, he’s just a little possessive,” matt snarks, his arm coming back around your shoulder. “a little?” you scoff, eyes trailing over chris’s tense frame. “hey, matt, when do you think we should tell chris that I lied about hooking up with you to make him jealous?”

you wish you had a camera to record the way chris’s expression dropped, the way his jaw visibly tensed from his teeth clenching together, the way his chest expanded from the breath he pulled in. “what does she mean?” lia questions from next to chris, turning her body towards him. “nothing,” he immediately answers. “it’s my turn!” you say enthusiastically, clapping your hands together and letting them fall in your lap. “lia, truth or dare?” you ask her, sending a smile her way. she’s shifting uncomfortably at your words, turning her attention to you apprehensively. “um…” her eyes flit to chris’s face for a moment, but they look back at you when she realizes he’s still staring at you. “dare,” she finally answers, sitting up straighter. you can tell that she only picks dare to impress chris, but he’s focused on anything but her right now.

you hum and tap your index finger on your chin a few times as you think of what to say. “I dare you… to go through chris’s phone!” is what you land on, and chris immediately moves to stand up, brushing lia off of his arm. “can I talk to you?” he directs towards you, not waiting for an answer before he grabs you by your arm and lifts you off the ground, dragging you towards a bedroom down the hall. “you’re hurting me,” you tell him bluntly, trying to pull away, but he just tightens his fingers around you as he shoves you into a room and slams the door shut behind you.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he sneers, finally releasing you. you huff and try to fix your clothes, glaring at the fuming man in front of you. “what are you talking about?” you ask him, raising your eyebrows at him. “i’m not doing this little back and forth. stop fucking with her. I mean it, dude, i’m not playing. don’t drag her into your mean girl bullshit. she’s too nice for you and your bitchy behavior.”

you scoff at his words, unable to believe he’s trying to defend this girl from you. “she’s fine,” you drawl, waving a hand at him dismissively. “god, chris, you’re so hot when you’re mad.” you take a small step closer to him, trying to close the distance between you two. “don’t,” he says sternly, bringing his hands up to stop you. you take another step closer, bringing your hands up to rest on his outstretched arms, dragging them up until they were placed on his shoulders. “don’t what?” you ask him, peering up at him through your lash extensions, eyes boring into him shamelessly. “don’t be slutty right now, i’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

you laugh and step even further until your chests are pressed together, bringing your arms up to wrap around him. you rested your chin on his sternum and gazed up at him, smiling at the way he stared across the room behind you, refusing to look down at you in fear of giving in. despite his unwillingness to look at you, his arms come up and wrap around your shoulders, a loud sigh escaping his nostrils. “look at me,” you say softly, squeezing your arms around him gently. you can feel his heart pounding from where you rested against him and you knew it was only a matter of time before he gave in.

when chris finally looked down and met your eyes, you felt the energy in the room shift. his expression softened as he inspected your face and the way that you looked back at him, like you were patiently waiting for him to crack and give you attention. “you’re incredibly rude,” is the first thing he says after locking eyes with you and you can’t help but grin at his statement. “you like how rude I am,” you retort.

chris rolls his eyes and looks past you for a moment before refocusing his gaze on you. “I tolerate how rude you are to me, not to girls I like. it’s not cute, it’s just pissing me off.” his tone is quiet, but you can tell he’s serious with the way he speaks. “i’m sorry,” you say honestly, pouring your bottom lip out subtly. “can I kiss it better?” he laughs at this and tightens his arms around your shoulders, shaking his head. “no, i’m not rewarding your awful behavior. go kiss matt about it,” he tells you, then pauses. “were you serious about what you said? that you lied about sleeping with him?”

you suck in a sharp breath at his words, feeling cornered despite you admitting exactly that only a few minutes prior. “I do think he’s hot,” you start. “but that was the first time we’ve ever kissed. he thinks you’re kind of an asshole when it comes to women so he wanted to see how mad you could get if we both made you believe we were fucking.”

chris purses his lips and nods, almost like he’s impressed by your scheme. “too bad you’re not important enough to make me jealous,” he teases and it makes you crack a smile. “sure, that’s why you ripped me off of him like that.”

“I was just playing by the rules,” chris defends, refusing to be pegged as the jealous type. “can you please just stop being weird and rude? i’m not asking for a lot.” you sigh and press your forehead into his chest for a couple of beats before looking back up at him, nodding your head. “yeah, alright,” you concede. “if you kiss me all nasty right now.”

“oh my god,” chris groans, but he couldn’t fight the closeness between you two any longer, bringing his hand up to the back of your head and leaning down to press his lips against yours roughly, both of your eyes fluttering shut as you made contact. your hands around him gripped at the back of his shirt to hold him closer as his tongue slipped into your mouth, a soft whine slipping out of your nose. the kiss only lasted maybe thirty seconds before he pulled away and stared down at you, soaking in your wide eyes and needy pout. “enough. let’s go.”

you nod and let go of him, but not before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on the skin of his neck, pulling away to smile up at him. “i’m right behind you,” you tell him and he steps away from you, not so subtly waistbanding his dick before opening the bedroom door and stepping out, making his way back into the living room.

you both take your respective places back next to lia and matt, looking as inconspicuous as you could after a slightly heated make-out that left you both craving more. matt sent you a knowing smirk, pulling you back into his side once you settled back down, and lia just smiled at chris, completely missing the way he used the collar of his shirt to wipe off his lips from where your lip gloss was smeared along them.

what she didn’t miss, noticing it only seconds later, was the tinged lip print pressed perfectly against his neck, right above his collarbone where you could reach. she stared at it for what seemed like forever, and your heart dropped when you saw what she saw. “fuck,” you breathe out, catching matt’s attention. he’s not even able to question you when he sees lia scooting away from chris, a hurt expression painted on her face.

“what is that?” she asks, voice strained as it comes out. chris is clueless, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “what is what?” he asks her, annoyance lacing his tone. lia only reaches up and touches his neck, dragging her finger through the sticky gloss on his skin before holding it up for him to see. you can tell he feels the same stomach-sinking dread when he notices what he’s being shown, mouth opening to speak, then closing again when he can’t think of a way to defend himself.

you’re scooting away from matt nervously, feeling like you were about to throw up, not because you were worried about this girl’s feelings, but because you were terrified of chris’s reaction. he practically begged you to behave, and you fucked up with a stupid fucking kiss. “oh my god,” you choke out, standing up from the floor. chris’s attention is drawn to you at your movement, pushing himself off the floor as well. “you are so fucking stupid,” he spits, pointing a finger at you accusingly. “I ask you to back the fuck off for one night! you can never fucking listen!”

you flinch at his words, taking a few steps back until you slam into the wall behind you, eyes welling with tears as he nears closer. “it was an accident,” you mumble, using the back of your hand to wipe the remaining lip gloss off of your lips haphazardly, even though it didn’t matter anymore. “you are such a fucking whore. always have to ruin everything, don’t you?” he’s in your face now, glaring down at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. “you kissed me, too, this isn’t my fault!” you yell back, voice pinched as you start to get worked up, heart pounding in your chest. “you don’t get to blame all your fuck ups on me!”

“chris,” matt warns from behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder cautiously, which chris instantly brushes off, eyes locked on you. “i’m sorry that nobody wants you, i’m sorry nobody wants to deal with how fucking exhausting you are, but that doesn’t mean you can go around and fuck with me and my life.” chris doesn’t even bat an eye at the tear that slips down your cheek or the way your lip wobbles, only rolling his eyes before turning around and walking back towards lia, helping her up off the floor.

you can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you watch him leave, unable to hear matt as he speaks to you, only focusing on chris as he guides his girlfriend-not-girlfriend out of the house, presumably to explain and try to put back the pieces of what little relationship they had. the second he’s out of your line of sight, you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, turning to look at matt. “can you take me home?” you ask him, and he instantly nods, guiding you towards the door.

the ride home is silent, and you feel like you’re on autopilot when you walk into your apartment and kick off your shoes, only letting yourself process what had happened when you were wrapped up in your blankets twenty minutes later. you tried calling chris, and all of your calls were instantly sent to voicemail.

that’s when you texted him, feeling a new sense of rage at his accusations through the messages he sent, deciding that this wasn’t all your fault and you weren’t the only bad guy here. chris made his bed, too, and you would make sure he suffered as he laid in it.

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @rafesapprentice @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbratt333 @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga @pip4444chris @chriss-slut @yourebeautifulqueen @watercolorskyy @courta13 @craftycrafter26 @meg4-matt44 @colorthecosmos444

[naniwatig3r]

CONTOUR LINES (18+)

Mingyu x artstudent!Femreader

Summary: You’ve finally broken up with your boyfriend Mingyu. Ignoring him has been hard, but you were finally at peace. But he had other plans, as he shows up to the figure drawing class you T.A…. And as the model.

Warnings: Unexplained breakup (im lazy lol), angst, cute fluff sometimes, art school stress, public nudity, public unprotected penetrative sex (no one is around though!), quickie

a/n: this was a idea i got while messing around with my friend who has a thing for mingyu, lol.

Word count: uhhh, around 7k ? I can’t remember 😅

————————

Another miss call.

Great, you thought, the tenth missed call from your ex boyfriend Mingyu this week.

It’s been about a month since you broke up with your ex, Kim Mingyu. It was an odd pairing in the first place. You met him coincidentally in the quad the beginning of the year, as you sat at the edge of the school fountain. Your sketchbook open, as you drew the scenery and people around you. A normal activity you did as an arts student.

You were clearly in the zone, drawing the fold in a random college student’s arm, before a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Whoa, you can draw.”

Your eyes snap up, seeing a towering figure, completely blocking your view. No shit, you thought.

“Yeah, I guess.” You say plainly, hoping your short answer would deter this guy. But then the sunlight is back on the page you’re drawing, and you feel his warm presence sit right next to you. Maybe he’s just sitting down to sit down, so you try and finish your life drawing of the current student, but they were gone. Probably going to their next class.

Huffing, you still for a moment to put your pencil down.

“I wish I could draw like that,” You hear, as you glance to your side. Furrowing your eyebrows in irritation as the man leans over to stare directly into your sketchbook. “You’re a really good drawer.” He says in awe.

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” You say curtly, as he continues to stare at your sketches like he’s at a museum. These sketches were nothing compared to a Degas or something, yet he stared at them like it was, his brown eyes flickering around in interest.

He clears his throat, as he looks up to meet your eyes. He smiles, a toothy one where you notice how sharp his canines were. Cute.

He pulls his sleeve up from his wrist to his elbow, holding his large hand out, “Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.” He says, introducing himself. You nod, reluctantly shaking his hand, his grip tight and strong.

“Y/n.” You say back shortly, eyeing him, wondering how long this tall man was going to bother you.

He lets go of your hand, as he adjusts his position to turn more towards you. One leg over the other, leaning forward. His bangs falling so perfectly across his eyebrow, that it made you narrow your eyes. It’s crazy, people like this seriously exist huh?

“Do you do art or something?” No shit.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m a fine arts major.” You respond, giving him a strained polite smile. It felt like you had to, the way this guy has been beaming at you like a puppy as you give the driest replies.

He grins, “Whoa, no way. Thats cool,” He praises, “I’m—“

The rest of the meet cute didn’t matter.

After this, you kept bumping into him, coincidence you thought at first, but thinking back… he had no reason to be near the art school area of the campus.

He always asked to see your sketchbook, or whatever was in your portfolio folder as you tried to get to your studio. Even helping you carry your supplies and folders inside, and once he learned where you worked he came with iced coffee when he could.

At 3 am, he’d lay on the floor of your messy studio, watching you as you mix another color on your palette. Your sweatshirt pushed to your elbows, paint on your hands and face as you work on the gigantic canvas for your final.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” You say a bit softly, your eyes tired despite your multiple energy drinks. “It must be boring to watch me throw paint for the last few hours.”

He shakes his head, sitting up as he looks at you with his puppy like eyes. “No, I like it. You’re so focused…” He trails, “I didn’t think art would be this hard.”

You glare at him for that remark, making him immediately tread back. His mouth gaping open and closing like a fish, “Ah! Not like that it’s easy — just that you’re so passionate you know?” He explains, throwing his hands around.

Rolling your eyes, you put your brush back into the muddy cup of water. “Why? Engineering not doing it for you?” You ask lazily, as you pull your claw clip out of your hair. Massaging your scalp from the tension.

Mingyu’s eyes focused on you, his cheeks slightly flushing. Eyes roving over how strands of your hair effortlessly frame your face. He clears his throat, “Uh, no. I like it. I’ve always been good at studying, and I get the material so,” He says, as he scratches his head.

“But I guess, it’s different watching you. Your eyes are different when you’re drawing, painting, sculpting. Whatever.” He says quietly.

“Different?” You muse, standing up to stretch your legs. Mingyu following instinctively, his tall frame dwarfing you.

He nods, “Mhm, yeah. I thought art was just a major for people who didn’t want to do anything, but getting to know you…” he says, as he follows you to your studio table. As you open the most recent energy drink you got from the vending machine. “You just don’t stop. Like you’re meant to do it.” He breathes.

His genuine words make you raise an eyebrow, turning to him. You give him a small smile, making his heart rate jump. “Yeah? It’s like you, I think.” You say, taking a sip of that battery acid of a drink. “I’ve just been doing this since forever. Natural to keep going.” You say nonchalantly, but Mingyu looks at you like you’re a living genius.

“Thats whats so cool,” He gushes, “You’re just made to do this.” He says, as he glances at your current work in progress. A large canvas with pleasing colors, his eye being drawn to the right areas. The beautifully rendered figure, framed with all the right strokes.

He looks back at you, with such an adoration you think it’s hallucinations from doing so many allnighters.

“Ah,” he starts, as he moves his long legs to shuffle through his bag, pulling out some tupperware. “I forgot, I was making uh, some dinner earlier and I had leftovers.” He lies, knowing full well he made it for you. He turns around, opening the tupperware to reveal a lunch box of different side dishes and protein. It could rival any meal inspo on pinterest, as he even carefully cut out seaweed to make cute faces.

You snicker, making Mingyu’s cheeks pink. “Leftovers huh?” You say, as you grab the lunchbox from him. Your fingers brushing over his, a welcome warmth from the cold air conditioning of the studio. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I was just gonna make some ramen.”

“Yeah no problem,” He strains, smiling. “You need energy to keep on going right? At least eat well if you’re gonna sacrifice your sleep.”

You take a bite, and even though it was cold, you nod in approval at the taste. The annoyingly large man could cook. Your reaction makes Mingyu grin, as you can see shamelessly how much that did to his ego.

“Still, you should go you know?” You say, as you remember Mingyu talking about his week a few days ago as you painted. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

Oh? He doesn’t focus on the fact that you’re asking him to go. Only that you remembered his schedule. He grins, “You remembered huh?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course I did. You told me.” You say, your own cheeks reddening from how embarrassed you felt from Mingyu’s reaction. Why was he so excited?

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, I was reviewing earlier. It’s in the afternoon anyways.”

You finish the lunchbox, washing it down with your energy drink before going to pick up a new large paint brush. “Fine by me then,” you sigh, not bothering to argue with him. It was weird the first time he accompanied you on an allnighter, but Mingyu’s presence became a normal occurrence since then.

And there he was, sitting obediently like a dog next to you as you continued painting. Your playlist ending hours ago, as the only sounds are the strokes of your brush, and the breathing of both of you.

It was like this for a while, until near the end of the year. This time, you were running out of steam.

Maybe it was all the all nighters the whole year, or the fact you got sick right before finals, but you were stuck in your studio once more. Slaving away as you work on your third painting of the night, trying to get your exhibition finished before sunlight.

You hear the sound of the door opening. He had his own key now — you copied one at one point since he always was knocking. Mingyu coming in with late night take out in one hand, clad in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, ready to tackle the night with you.

You don’t even bother looking behind you, his familiar presence and cologne already telling you who it is. “Hey,” He says softly, putting the food down as he notices your tired state. It was like you were running on fumes, the amount of empty redbulls and monsters around your studio telling him all he needed to know.

You grunt, “Yeah, hey.” You say tiredly, as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. Paint smearing on your cheek. Mingyu comes over with a napkin from the takeout container, huffing as he wipes your cheek with it.

“Whens the last time you took a break?” He asks, a bit worried. Despite hanging out with you for so long, he wouldn’t say he knew anything about art. But he knew you. And the way your wrist movements against the canvas were sluggish, and the way your eyebrows furrowed as the strokes didn’t land and look the way you wanted… he knew you were at your limit.

“Doesn’t matter, I have another painting after this.” You say roughly, “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I should have painted when I was sick. At least worked on the concepts and colors so I didn’t have to figure it out right now.” You rant, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

Mingyu frowns, “No, y/n. What about a fifteen minute break? I got burgers, it’ll help.” He says, but your face isn’t budging, like the strict deadlines for the paintings.

You curse, “God, Mingyu, I can’t stop. All the fucking pieces look like shit, if I stall any longer I’ll never finish this ass of an exhibition.” You say shakily, as you haphazardly throw your brush into the water cup, the muddy water splashing out. You grab another brush to pick up a new color.

He looks around the 10 other pieces littered around the room drying, he doesn’t get it, and he never would. They all looked great, cohesive despite your protests. “Y/n, they look great. You gotta take a break you know? Maybe it’ll help. Maybe your eyes will like, reset or something. You’ve been looking at this painting for hours.” He says, trying to reason.

You don’t listen, as you flick your wrist harshly to create a quick line of color.

clack!

You wince, dropping your brush to clatter on the floor. Your wrist acting up at the worst time, as you curse under your breath. Mingyu’s hands go up instinctively to hold your wrist, holding it still.

“God, now my wrist is flaring up too. Great, just what I need!” You curse bitterly, your head down.

Mingyu holds your wrist gently, despite your angry state you don’t push him away as he gingerly inspects your wrist. “Hey, come on. Lets take a break, and then we can wrap your hand alright?” He says softly, trying to coax you.

He leans down to see your hidden face, and it breaks his heart. Hot tears welling in your eyes from stress, frustration, and the impending deadline.

He doesn’t think twice, leaning down to hold you into an embrace, pulling you off your stool into his arms. Tight, the tips of your shoes barely grazing the floor. You can’t help but cry into his shoulder, “God, why am I so bad? I can’t show anyone any of this,” You sob, as Mingyu rubs your back. His grip tightening around you, holding you close as you basically collapse into his arms.

“Hey, y/n, you’ve just been working too long. Lets take a break alright? It’ll look better once you rest your eyes a bit, I promise.” He coos, “I’ve got some burgers and sweet potato fries, even convinced them to give me extra —“

“Mingyu, why are you always here?” You ask bluntly, choking back your tears. Through the whole year you’ve been tolerating him getting closer. First, random conversations when you bumped into each other on campus, then visiting the art school, coming to your studio, staying to keep you company. You never once tried to push him away, but you didn’t understand how he hasn’t been turned off yet. Your all nighters, your insecurities, the way you reject his invitations to campus parties and events to work. It was all a mystery, especially as you crash out in his arms, over some acrylic and oil on canvas. This must look pathetic to him.

His eyes are a bit panicked at the question, “I uh, do you not want me to be?” He asks reluctantly, still holding you close.

You sniff, your hand against his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie into your fist.

“No, I just... Thank you.” You say quietly into his chest, and Mingyu felt his head spin. You could definitely hear it, he thought, the way his heart was pounding out his chest. How you relied on him, telling him to stay. If it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning on him to stay up, he’d probably melt into a puddle on the floor.

Mingyu takes you to the table, helping you sit down on one of the comfier chairs. A foldable one with a pillow he brought at one point, so he could watch you comfortably. He boasted once — y/n look! Found this by the dumpster!

You let out a deep sigh as you sit down, Mingyu bending down to his knees to look at you eye level. A hand to your cheek as you close your eyes tiredly. “Hey, you okay?” He asks, searching your face.

You nod, “Yeah, um, sorry,” You sigh, “I’m just — I’m just stressed. I didn’t mean to have a breakdown in front of you.” You say apologetically, embarrassed by it. But he shakes his head, not affected by it. In fact, it probably caused him to fall harder, seeing how hard you work.

“Don’t apologize,” He says, pushing strands of your hair back. You look up at him, straight into his brown eyes. The way he looks at you so fondly, worried, that his bottom lip juts out slightly as he observes you. The way his fingers felt along your cheek, how he’s warmed you up in the cold room, brought takeout for you.

Fuck, how his hair is tousled under the hood, and the fact his face was a sight for sore eyes after looking at your paintings all day. Something with actual 3d planes staring at you, instead of flat canvas. Maybe it was the all nighters, the fact you’re on multiple energy drinks on an empty stomach, or that Mingyu is there for you.

You lean forward, shutting your eyes shut as you push your lips against his.

It’s warm, soft… might even get lost in it if—

You pull back after a second, as you see Mingyu’s wide eyes.

Oh fuck, did you read this wrong? Shit, at least you can blame it on lack of sleep—

A pair of lips crash into yours again, this time, you part yours as Mingyu’s warm lips mold into yours. Its warm, and comforting and everything nice, as you grab his collar to pull him closer. Making him stumble forward as he holds onto the edge of the chair to steady himself close to you.

You let out a soft breath as Mingyu snakes his free hand around to the small or your back, pushing you close as possible to him. Mingyu compensating for your lack of energy with his, as he kisses you deeply, something he’s always wanted to do. Every since he watched you draw random people at that campus fountain.

He pulls back as you pathetically try to chase his lips, as he kisses you chastely before speaking. “Y/n,” He breathes, “Fuck, you don’t know how long I wanted to do that.” He confesses, as he holds your face in his large hands.

You smile softly, “Mingyu, I—“

The box of charcoals clatter, as you accidentally drop it right next to the table of supplies. Sheepishly you bow at the students in class, not meaning to disrupt their focus.

You bend down to pick up the charcoal. What are you doing? It may be the third figure drawing class today, but dropping a box of pencils as you recount your days with Mingyu was horrible. Terrible.

Especially when you boasted to one of your friends as you shared a meal, Ah, Kim Mingyu? Thats over. Lets just focus on grad review.

You sigh, standing back up as you slide the box of art supplies on the table. Checking the time, you slide the notifications of Mingyu’s missed calls away. It was five minutes before class started, where the hell was the model?

And as if on cue, the other T.A. comes skitting towards you, pushing her glasses up as she avoids the boxes of supplies around the room. “Ah, Y/n—“ She starts, talking quietly to not cause alarm.

She stops in front of you, as you furrow your brows. Today the professor wasn’t in. As the consistent T.A., she trusted you to handle today with no substitutes. It wasn’t anything hard. You just helped set up the drawing horses and supplies, adjusted the lights and made sure the models were comfortable. It was easier especially when another T.A. was assigned to assist you today.

“Hm? What?” You ask, as you dust your hands.

She takes a deep breath, “Um, well, the model got food poisoning.” She starts. Leaning in so other students didn’t hear. “I just learned this right now, she’s like in the bathroom in the main hall throwing up like crazy.”

You frown, “What? Is she okay?” You say, straightening up, walking towards the front door grabbing your jacket off one of the stray art horse chairs.

She follows clumsily, “She’s fine! But she can’t model for this class. I know you’re in charge, but I panicked and just called whoever was on the emergency model list.”

You stop, causing the other T.A. to bump into your back, with a little squeak. A small what should have been insignificant memory flooding back.

“You’re TAing now? Seriously?” Mingyu asks lightly, as he fiddles with a loose strand of your sweater, the rough pads of his fingers pulling on it.

You slap his hand away disapprovingly, causing him to pout. “Yeah, just for figure drawing. I want to make a little money anyways, but working at the campus cafe is too time consuming.” You respond, as you continue to draw in your sketchbook. Outlining the foliage in front of you with your pen.

“Hm, what would that mean?” He asks, leaning forward to wrap an arm around your shoulder. Careful not to disturb your drawing, as he rests his chin on your closer shoulder. Watching you draw was his favorite past time nowadays.

“Just like, setting up, taking care of the figure drawing models. Things like that.” You respond absentmindedly.

“Models? Like, thats a job?” He asks, making you crack a smile. You forget how normal people knew nothing about art. You’re just glad he was openminded about basically everything.

You turn to look at him, “Yeah, the school hires people to pose for drawing. Its for studying.” You respond, as you tap your pen against the tip of his nose, where his beloved mole resided. Making him scrunch his nose, the corners of his lips turning up.

“Actually, I should write the emergency contact list. The professor updates every semester of models to contact if theres no shows, and the et cetera. I should just do it now so I don’t forget —“

“Add me on there then.”

You blink.

“Huh, what?” You say confused, looking at him with raised brows.

He straightens up, “You heard me. Add my number to that list. It sounds interesting,” He defends, his tone light.

You shake your head, smiling. “Mingyu, you don’t get it. You have to stand there naked, and do different poses every five to thirty minutes. Its not an easy thing to do.” You say, dismissing his words as nonsense. Sometimes he was too eager to try things just because they existed in your world.

Mingyu doesn’t falter. “Yeah I know. I just, it sounds cool. Also having a bunch of people drawing me, I don’t know… sounds nice. Also its like emergency contact right?” He says shrugging, “It’s not like it’ll actually happen. I know you’d never call me if it was an emergency, but just add me on it. If all models decide they’re not feeling it that day.” He suggests lightly.

You stare at him still in disbelief, narrowing your eyes. He scoffs, leaning forward to lean his forehead against yours as a challenge. A little goofy smile on his face, “What? Come on. Just add me to the list.”

The rational side of you knew this would never actually happen. Mingyu had no qualifications, and besides, there was a dozen other numbers to call before him. So you suck it up, sighing, writing his name down. Just for the sake that he’d shut up about it.

“Okay, fine.”

Your heart beats, eyes wide as you try to calm yourself. You didn’t want to release your anger against this girl for trying to fix the situation. It was your fault, really, in the first place to put his number on there. But this never was something that has happened before.

“Which number picked up?” You ask calmly, clasping your hands together as you focus on not exploding on your fellow T.A.

“Uh, just called the first one. He said he was on campus so he was down, and we only have five minutes till class—“

“Jesus, his name please?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

Oh fuck. Fuuuucckkkkk.

Mouth wide, and panicked eyes, you start to speak, before you hear the opening of the classroom door. You turn, and your face practically goes pale.

There he was — Kim Mingyu, just in a simple coat and pants. His eyes immediately landing on you. Its only been a month, but he cut his hair. Slightly shorter than you remember, as you tilt your head.

Stop it. You have to act normal.

You take a deep breath, trying to act professional. There was no time to question why the hell he’d even pick up and walk all the way here. Or why your heart was beating so fast, just looking at him.

“Um, escort him to the dressing room area.” You start, prying your eyes from Mingyu to the other T.A. “There should be a clean robe there too.” You inform, patting her arm as you beeline straight away from them.

You find a haphazardly stacked amount of newsprint, focusing on making all the edges match as you calm your heart. It’s fine, it really is.

For some reason Mingyu was interested in figure drawing modeling before. Maybe he just wanted to cross that off his bucket list, and had nothing to do with you.

The other T.A. comes back to stand beside you, “Is he comfortable?” You ask.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just seems a little inexperienced,” She responds, scratching her cheek. “He asked if he had to take all his clothes off, and I was like, huh? Yeah? But other that that—“

“Yeah, alright.” You interrupt dryly. “Thank you. I’ll just take over after this.” You say, as you grab the timer from the table.

You walk towards the center, clearing your throat as the art students look up. “Right, hi. Professor Kang isn’t here today, but don’t mind. Today will be quite an easy day.” You start, crossing your arms.

Your eyes immediately follow to the ruffle of the dressing curtain, as Mingyu walks out in a fluffy robe. Brown eyes meet yours, and for a second you think this will be fine. Until the corners of his lips turn up, into a toothy grin only you knew so well.

That motherfucker. Bucket list my ass, he said yes just to mess with you!

You turn away sharply, focusing back on the class. “The model today is Kim Mingyu.” You say shortly, before stepping off the small platform.

You gesture for Mingyu to walk to the center, your face stone cold as you watch him step onto the platform.

He clears his throat, “Do I take the robe off now?” He asks cluelessly.

Great, just show everyone you have no clue what you’re doing. If this was a few months ago, it’d be cute. But Mingyu standing hopelessly waiting for instructions was annoying you, to say the least.

You nod, and immediately, he undoes his robe and lets it fall to the floor.

You can’t help but stare. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your body tense. Stop stop stop! You couldn’t give him a reaction. As an artist, it was normal to see naked bodies. It wasn’t a sexual thing, especially in figure drawing. But Mingyu wasn’t just an old man or something. He was a conventionally attractive, tall, well built man. In more places than one.

“Oh shit, he’s hot.” The other T.A. whispers to you, covering her mouth. You bite back your embarrassment, as you just send her a glare for her unprofessional reaction.

It doesn’t help that other people around the room are pleasantly surprised by Mingyu, as I see pink dusting around people’s cheeks. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Holy shit, a hot model. Is this real?”

“I thought we had a middle aged woman today. Bro… score!”

“I’ve never stared so closely.”

“Alright, warm ups. Ten one minute poses.” You say plainly, holding up the timer and pressing down on it. Immediately, Mingyu nods, springing into action.

His poses were something else. They were a bit awkward, as he stood there. First putting his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

But he started getting more comfortable. After the ten one minute poses were up, the other T.A. Adds a stool to the platform for Mingyu to sit on.

“One pose, 15 minutes.” You say, setting the timer again.

This time instead of looking at the ground, wall, or ceiling, he stared straight at you. His eyes unwavering. The sight makes your mouth go dry, as the studio lights enhance Mingyu’s features perfectly.

His face framed by the little curl of his bang, light bouncing off his tanned skin as the definition of his muscles are on display. The way his large shoulders balance his proportions, and his skin smooth and tightly wrapped around his toned torso. He always was working out, and it seemed like he kept that up, as your eyes trail from his abs to his bottom half. Your cheeks flushing as he’s so unabashedly bare in front of the whole room.

But it only propelled your anger. How could he? Just step into your domain — the art school wing — and just come here? Posing like a gangly weirdo, riding on his looks so none of the students complained. Staring straight into your eyes as a confrontation. So much it felt like he was telepathically speaking to you.

Why aren’t you returning my calls? Or, how does this make you feel? It was infuriating.

And as if satisfied in your attention on him, he smirks, like he won some imaginary battle. This idiot.

The timer rings, making you flinch against the supply table. Your cheeks flush slightly, as you clear your throat. “Another 6 poses, each 2 minutes.” You manage to choke out, pressing the timer.

As the figure session goes on for the next hour, Mingyu’s confidence was starting to irritate you to no end. At first what was awkward, was now overtly dramatic. His poses of showing off his muscles, flexing his back, it was too much. People were here to draw, not ogle.

You decided to play, not wanting Mingyu to have the upper hand. As Mingyu goes to pick up the robe off the ground, you yell, “Stop right there!”

Mingyu freezes immediately, mainly out of confusion. His eyes drifting to you, a slight furrow of his brows.

“Now, the model will stay still. Do you see how the arm connects to the shoulder blades? Please turn to a new paper and start focusing on that area.” You say, stopping Mingyu in an uncomfortable position in the name of education.

You eye how his leg starts to shake from holding it, but it only fuels you. “Now focus on the thigh muscle, we’ll hold this pose for another 3 minutes.” You say, a little glee seeping into your voice.

Mingyu’s eyes shooting up to glare at you, as you cock your head and smile.

You push Mingyu to do crazy things, like pretending to do a lay up for 10 minutes to talk about line of action. Or when you asked the students to move in closer to draw his face, having twenty people at once hyper fixate on his expression. Now, the class was fun. You completely turned it around.

The timer rings. “Alright, lunch break.” You say, as it’s half way through the 6 hour class.

Theres a collective sigh of relief, as students massage their wrists, and Mingyu putting his robe back on, but loosely. Letting his chest peek out through the fabric, as he walks around the room.

You watch as he circles, smiling and complimenting others.

“Wow, thats really good.”

“Whoa, really love how you drew that one.”

“Is that how I look? I’m flattered! Thanks.”

You huff, looking away as you catch a glimpse of him leaning over a pretty girl’s shoulder as she shows her sketches. Purposefully letting the loose robe drape his exposed chest as he examines the drawings.

Students get up to stretch their bones outside, getting lunch during the break. The other T.A. goes to check on something, leaving only you and Mingyu in the figure drawing room.

You stand, ignoring him as you walk towards the platform, readjusting the power of the studio lights. “Next part of the class is long poses,” You say, twisting the knob. “So it’ll be harsh lights. you just have to sit there, it’ll easy.”

You turn back around, Mingyu looking at you with a small smile, barely a yard away. His hands on his hips, as he looks down at you. “You know,” He drawls, his voice low. “This was a lot more fun than I thought.”

“Is it?” You respond bitterly, “Well I’m glad. Because you’re not gonna be paid for this.” You inform him, as Mingyu isn’t a real model signed with the school.

“Thats okay, I’m getting what I wanted anyways.”

You sigh, as you cross your arms. Deciding not to beat around the bush.

“What are you doing here, Mingyu?” You ask tiredly, finally looking at him straight, your brows furrowed. You boldly looking into his playful eyes.

His smug expression softens, almost reminiscent to how he would look at you before everything. He takes his bottom lip under his teeth, chewing as he looks at you.

“You seriously need me to answer that? Like always?” He says quietly, but with only you two in the studio, he could whisper from across the room and you’d still catch it.

“What, like you actually answer me with anything that makes sense?” You respond back tightly. Sighing, you relax your shoulders, biting your cheek as you glance away from him. A student’s messy pencil case catching your attention, albeit forced.

A deafening silence falls. Mingyu never really liked to fight anyways.

“You’re, you’re difficult, you know that?” He starts, as he ruffles his hair with his hand, as if that would release his pent up frustration. “When I got the random phone call that you guys needed a last minute model, I thought for a second it was intentional.”

He takes a step closer, “But of course not. You looked like you saw a ghost when I walked in.”

You gulp, “Well, to be fair, thats what you are now.” You say quietly. Avoiding his eyes.

“Oh? So I’m just dead to you?”

“No, that would be easier.” You snap, finally looking back to face his eyes. Mingyu’s jaw clenched, his eyebrows knitted, trying to figure you out like an abstract art piece.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a disappointed huff. “y/n.” He starts firmly, in a tone he barely used.

But of course, directed to you, making your skin crawl in the overly air conditioned room.

Hands on his hips, as he takes a long breath, his head facing down as he hides his expression. “For an artist, you’re really shit at expressing your feelings.” He sighs, his bangs hiding whatever you could gather from him.

“Fine.” He concludes, looking up, his shoulders more relaxed. “I’ll stop bothering you about it, since you’re so sure.” He says throwing his arms out. “On one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, wary of whatever condition he was gonna propose. Mingyu could be unpredictable when you pushed him, making the hair at the back of your neck stand.

“Draw me.” He says finally. He glances at the clock on the wall, “They still have that lunch break. So just draw me at least once, before everyone comes back.” He proposes, turning around to walk casually to the platform, as if he’s assuming you would just do it.

Is he serious? You weren’t even together anymore, and yet he wants a free commission from you? Thats crazy, like you’d ever —

“Fine.” You say curtly, “Since you’re so desperate for my attention anyways.” You quip, walking over to the supply table, making sure your shoes stomp against the hard floor. You swipe some spare paper, clipboard, and some charcoal.

The second you were at an art horse in front of Mingyu though, your fire waned slightly. The dead silence of the room was deafening, as you adjust your clipboard. The sound of the metal clips thumping against the paper, the feet of the art horse squeaking as you adjust sitting on the worn wood.

When you gaze up at Mingyu, it was obvious. He really was getting what he wanted, and it was your undivided attention.

Once ready, the charcoal in your hand, Mingyu sits down on the stool, eyes steady on you as he grips the already loose tie around his robe with his large hand. Letting it fall, as he exposes himself once more in the bright lights you set up yourself. He kicks the robe away off the platform, set on you drawing him like this.

You blink back any feelings that threaten to show on your face, readjusting the charcoal in your hand as you avoid Mingyu’s eyes, pressing down to finally start a line.

Its been a while since you last drew figures, and it usually took an hour of continuous drawing before you really found your pace in figure drawing sessions. But it was different this time.

Your heart beats in your ears, a silence of the room highlighting the sound of your charcoal smearing against the newsprint — the sounds of your breathing and of Mingyu’s, as time passes. Agonizingly slowly, yet a focus every artist aches for.

Your hand moves accordingly. Outlining the contour of his silhouette, the way his neck slopes, the soft lines that shape his abs he always was working on. Pressing for pressure with your charcoal as you indicate the weight of him sitting on the stool, hands in his laps loose as you capture his likeness with ease.

But the focus doesn’t last for long, especially when you flicker your eyes back to his. Already flicking a stroke to mimic his right eyelid, before you still. Pressing the tip of your charcoal into the paper, crumbling against the grain as you stare into his large brown eyes.

Fuck. What are you even doing?

Why are you drawing him so intently, when you vowed just a while ago that you never wanted to see Mingyu again?

Your breath hitches, as you raise your arm, flickering back to your drawing. Charcoal in the air, swinging to run a huge line through your figure of him, to smear it, to destroy it, to —

Your wrist stops mid air, as you feel a warm grip tightening around you. Eyes wide, you unfocus on the paper, to look up. Somehow in your tiny melt down Mingyu got down from the platform.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. Jaw tense, “You were just gonna ruin it, weren’t you?” He asks you quietly.

You can’t help but knit your brows, a pained expression forming that matches the one in his eyes.

The charcoal clatters out of your hand, landing on the floor in broken pieces.

Tears start welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. “You’re right,” You start shakily, “I don’t know… how to address anything unless I’m drawing.” You say weakly.

Mingyu’s eyes soften slightly, swallowing hard as the bright lights highlight the contour of throat bobbing. “Yeah, seems like it.” He replies carefully. You expected him to use this as a told you so, maybe give you a smug smile, like, I knew you weren’t over me.

But Mingyu was never like that anyways. No matter how much he craved your attention, he also wanted your peace of mind. A hard thing to ask from an artist like you.

His grip on your wrist softens, as he kneels down, getting eye level with you as you still sit on the art horse. Holding your hand in his, rubbing a thumb over the veins on the back of your hand gently.

“I miss you.” You finally muster, your eyes focused on his.

“I miss you too.” He responds back, before cracking a small smile.

You strain your brows into a furrow, blinking back the warm tears you naturally formed from the vulnerable moment. A shaky huff also coming out of you, as you decide to lean forward.

Inching your face closer, until the tip of your noses brush, Mingyu stiffening slightly as you shyly graze your lips against his lips. A small breath escaping his lips, fanning over yours before you finally part them.

Your lips against his — it was like home. Finding your way back after such a tumultuous and useless road. The warmth of his lips seeping into you, Mingyu as relieved as you are. His hands finding its way to the sides of your face, pulling you impossibly closer.

It only escalates, as you open your mouth wider to push your tongue against his, making Mingyu groan out as he meets you with similar enthusiasm.

He pulls you forward, off the art horse. Taking you down to the ground, maneuvering you until your back is against the hard floor. Covering you with his large frame, his weight pressing down on you in ways you were having such a hard time admitting you missed.

It was fast, and albeit messy and rushed. Like trying to make up for wasted time as you pull him close, hands wrapped around the back of his neck as your lips go numb, your teeth clashing.

You let out a whine, when Mingyu pulls away with a heavy breath, fighting against your attempts to pull him back for a kiss.

“Y/n — fuck, can we?” He asks hurriedly, his voice breathless. A look of want in his big eyes, but there was also a little responsibility.

First of all — anyone could walk into the studio any second. There was only a lunch break, sure, an hour. But at least half of it has passed.

As you take your bottom lip under your teeth, chewing at your swollen lip as you think. And Mingyu knows exactly what look you were giving him, and he wasn’t going to reject you. Not now.

He leans back in, crashing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, breath hot against yours, before moving to your jaw. Leaving open mouthed rushed kisses down your neck, as you move your hands down his back. Feeling the muscles you were forcing yourself to look away from during the whole first half of class.

Touching Mingyu was way better than just drawing him from afar. You’re sure on that.

He moves his hand down, to push your midi skirt up, bunching the fabric to your hips. Your legs exposed to the cold air of the studio, as he wastes no time to slide your panties to the side. Already wet and damp from the heavy making out, and partially to the adrenaline of being in such a risky place.

“Damn, already?” He says, with a slight tease to his voice, making you pinch his arm. He lets out a pained chuckle, before placing his thick fingers against yours core, a gasp escaping your lips.

It helped that he knew you so well already, your legs squirming around the sides of him as he runs his fingers through yours wet folds, his thumb circling your clit as he inserts two fingers in, stretching you out as you gasp, Mingyu attacking your neck with messy kisses as he gets you ready for him.

“Fuck, Gyu,” You whine, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he curls his fingers, hitting the spongy flesh that makes you arch your back off of the floor.

You weren’t the only one worked up, Mingyu being bare this entire time. His dick pressing up against the inner of your thigh, hardening at the sounds of your pleasure.

Your hand shoots down to grab hold of him, helping him get hard as he lets out a moan, as you tighten your grip. Pumping him a few times, lining him up to you as he removes his hand from your entrance.

You both let out soft gasps as you hold his dick to swipe against you, coating him in your arousal, his tip leaking with precum.

He doesn’t even ask, he just knows, as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch. The friction from your pulled to the side panties, to the tight warm walls of your pussy, making him feel lightheaded with pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” He breathes, without even adjusting, he ruts into you roughly. Bottoming out as he knocks the wind out of you.

A whine escapes your throat, as you hold tightly around his shoulders, as Mingyu doesn’t slow his pace.

Its rough, its fast, and overall — desperate. The lewd sounds of flesh colliding echoing in the empty studio. Your mind going dumb at his fast pace, only focused on how he goes in, out. In, out.

The smell of his sweat, the way your hands run down his exposed body, all for you. He did this all for you. To get your attention, to get you back. God, does he even know how that makes you feel?

“Fuck, fuck,” He whines, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Already feeling a little fatigued from abusing your pussy so fast. But it was just too good, he missed it so much. So, so much. And he made it evident, as he pushes the back of your thighs higher to your chest, getting deep as he can. And fucking you like his life counted on it.

You feel the familiar build up of your orgasm, your walls tightening as you grip Mingyu’s shoulders. “Gyu, Gyu, I’m —“ You manage to choke out, as he moves his face from your neck to yours. Catching your cry with his mouth, drowning it as he kisses you messily.

You shudder, squirming under him as you feel the familiar high. Your body tingling with sensitivity and pleasure, as he overwhelms you with what can only be love.

He follows soon after, not being able to maintain his mouth to yours as he lets out a shaky grunt. Spilling inside you, his cum warm and filling, making your cheeks flush in contentment and relief.

He slows, stilling as you both catch your breaths. Pulling out of you with a reluctance. Pushing himself up, to lean back to sit. You follow as well, adjusting your skirt back as you push yourself up to your elbows.

Mingyu was a sight, as he always is. His tan skin glowing with a layer of sweat. The way his toned chest rises from catching his breath. The way his bangs are sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with a rush of blood. A satisfied look on his face, as he sighs, licking his bottom lip as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile, a warm one. As you gather yourself.

“Lets get you cleaned up before the second half. Where did you throw your robe?”

“Oh fuck. I don’t know. You got any other ones?”

[28harryssunflower]

Could u make one based off of ‘only angel’ or/and ‘Kiwi’ ? 🫶🏻

Okay so, it would’ve been a lot easier to write if I had specific lyrics to pick from instead of just two songs in general, so I don‘t really like how it turned out, lol. And I also didn’t know what era you wanted me to write in, so I just chose the good old 2017-ish era. Anyways, I hope you still like it xx

Third post today! Phew

Dangerous attraction

The dim lighting of the private booth cast long shadows, the soft clink of glass and quiet murmurs of people in the background melding into the low hum of the pub. Harry sat back against the plush leather seat, his eyes half-lidded as he absentmindedly swirled the whiskey in his glass. The concert had been a success, the crowds in New York had been wild, but after the adrenaline of the stage, this was what he needed: quiet, solitude, and a bit of time to relax before another long day.

But then he saw you.

At first, it was just a glimpse - a flash of your figure across the room, seated in a booth surrounded by a group of people who seemed to melt away the moment his gaze fell on you. You were the kind of woman who demanded attention without even trying. Such an actress.

You took a drag from your cigarette, the ember glowing in the dim light, your lips parted just enough to pull in the smoke. Harry’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes fixed on the way your fingers held the cigarette so casually, the smoke swirling around you like a mysterious cloud. You looked like trouble - dangerous trouble - and it made his pulse quicken.

The moment you finished your cigarette, you tossed it into the ashtray, not even glancing at the half-finished glass of whiskey in front of you as you immediately reached for another from your cheap pack. You didn’t seem to care about anything - anyone - except your own pleasure.

But it was the next move that really grabbed Harry’s attention. He watched, stunned, as you poured a line of white powder onto the back of your hand. His eyes followed the movement, unable to tear away from the way your fingers expertly drew it in through your nose. There was something about it that made him feel both intrigued and uneasy, like you were a dangerous game he didn’t know if he should play. But god, he wanted to.

His eyes traced the curve of your neck, the way the neckline of your black dress dipped low enough to make his pulse race. That black dress, clinging to your figure so perfectly, seemed designed to drive him mad. Every curve, every movement you made was like an invitation. His chest tightened as he imagined what it would feel like to press his lips to that neck of yours, to taste the soft skin that looked so damn kissable.

“Get a grip,” Harry muttered to himself, shaking his head. But it didn’t work. His gaze was still locked on you, still captivated. His thoughts swirled with confusion and desire.

He needed to make a move.

He called for the waiter, his voice steady despite the frantic beating of his heart. “Bring her over here.”

Moments later, you appeared, slipping into the booth beside him without a word, the faintest smirk curling on your lips as your eyes met his. Harry had no idea what he was doing, but there was no way he was going to let you slip away. You were too much - a perfect mix of fire and ice.

“You’re Harry Styles,” you said, voice low and smooth, a little amused, as if you weren’t entirely impressed but still intrigued.

“That’s me,” he replied, his voice rough, more playful than usual. “And you are?”

“Me? I’m captivated,” you grinned.

You didn’t need to introduce yourself. Your name wasn’t what mattered here. It was the way you looked at him, the way you leaned in just enough that your perfume, sweet and intoxicating, hit him with the force of a punch.

Harry shifted, leaning closer, his eyes scanning your face. He couldn’t resist the pull. It was like a magnetic force drawing him to you.

Your lips were on his before he had the chance to think twice. He felt your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, the kiss hungry, urgent. He groaned into your mouth as you practically devoured him. There was no gentleness here, no tentative exploration. You kissed him like you owned him, like you were claiming him, and Harry couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d never been kissed like this - never had anyone just take him the way you were.

You pressed your body against his, and Harry felt his control slipping away. Your hands were everywhere - on his chest, his neck, his jaw. Your body was like liquid fire, and Harry found himself losing track of everything except the feel of you. The kiss was filthy, passionate, and full of something far darker than he was used to.

When you pulled back just enough to break the kiss, your lips glistened with the same whiskey he had been drinking, your breath a sweet mixture of smoke and alcohol. “You know,” you whispered, “I didn’t think you’d be this easy.”

Harry didn’t even flinch at the comment. In fact, the challenge in your eyes only made him want you more. “Who says I’m easy?”

You smiled, and for a moment, Harry thought he might lose his mind. You were the definition of chaos, of everything he shouldn’t want. But God, he did.

Before he could gather his thoughts, your lips were back on his, and this time it wasn’t just a kiss. You were all over him - your hands sliding down his chest, pulling at his shirt, making him forget where he ended and you began.

Normal people would pay for this kind of woman to be sitting on their lap, making them feel like you made him feel right now.

His brain was foggy, his heart thumping in his chest. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even let him breathe. It was reckless. It was wild. And in that moment, Harry couldn’t care less about the consequences.

It felt like you were both on the edge of something dangerous, something electric. His hands roamed down your body, his fingers itching to explore, but you took control again. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You like this, don’t you? You like the way I’m all over you.”

Fuck. It was a punch to the gut, and Harry had never felt so alive. He wanted you - needed you. It was the most primal urge he’d ever felt, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you grinned and scribbled your number on a napkin. “Text me,” you said, your voice taunting. Before he could even respond, you stood, giving him one last lingering look over your shoulder, a slow wink before you vanished back into the crowd.

Harry sat there, his chest heaving as he stared at the napkin in his hand. He wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, but he knew one thing for certain: you had left a mark on him, something deeper than just a casual fling. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, and that frustrated the hell out of him.

It took him several more drinks to shake the frustration, but it didn’t do much to ease the gnawing feeling in his gut. By the time he got back to his hotel, the taste of you was still fresh on his lips, your scent still lingering in his mind. He had texted you twenty minutes after you left, but there hasn’t been an answer yet.

Then, his phone buzzed.

It was you. Of course, it was you.

Your text came in with that usual warning:

You: I’m bad news. Your fans won’t like it if they knew I was influencing you this way ;)

Harry chuckled, leaning back on the bed as he read your words. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

Harry: I’m obsessed with you

The words spilling out before he could stop them.

Harry: I don’t care about anything else. I want to see you again.

You didn’t hesitate.

You: Tell me your room number and hotel name. Then meet me in the hotel hallway. I’ll be there soon.

And soon enough, you were. Harry stood in the hallway outside his room, a grin plastered across his face, heart pounding in his chest as the elevator doors opened and you stepped into the hall. The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you.

There was no talking this time. No hesitation. You pressed him up against the door of his hotel room, hands sliding under his shirt, lips crashing against his. The heat between you was suffocating, and Harry didn’t fight it. He couldn’t.

This time, you were the one in control. You pushed him down onto the bed, straddling him as your lips devoured him once more. Your hands, your body, everything about you was completely in charge, and Harry loved it.

He was lost in the sensation of you taking the lead, of the way you teased him - your lips brushing his, your hands tugging at his clothes as though you couldn’t get enough of him. And when you finally got on top, taking the reins in a way that surprised him, he couldn’t help but surrender.

He couldn’t believe this was happening, but it was. It was everything he didn’t know he needed.

Afterwards, when his lips brushed against your ear one last time, he whispered, “You’re a real devil in between the sheets.”

You chuckled darkly, your eyes glittering with amusement. “You have no idea.”

You stood, pulling on your clothes with that same nonchalant attitude, as if you hadn’t just completely shattered him. Harry watched you, breathless, trying to catch his breath. But before he could speak, you leaned over him and kissed him deeply, just once.

And then you were gone - no more words, just a wink as you slipped out of the room.

Harry sat there, staring at the ceiling, his mind reeling. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he knew one thing: You were trouble.

And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

February 01 - Honey | word count: 672 | @black-brothers-microfic

They are sitting in the common room, a bottle of firewhiskey making it’s rounds. Regulus had already regretted agreeing to come when he first entered the Room of Requirement to find his brother and his friends already gathered around the fireplace. But he had already been spotted, and he could hardly deny his boyfriend as he made grabby hands to pull Regulus onto his lap. That’s where he sits now, in one of the two chairs while his brother and Remus occupy the other, leaving Barty, Evan, Dorcas, Marlene, and Peter on spare cushions and pillows on the ground.

He rests his head back against James’ shoulder, letting himself get lost in the feeling of James’ fingers in his hair, gently soothing the building ache. He’s been undeniably lucky with James, who somehow always manages to sense what Regulus needs, and gives it to him without question.

“What’s the worse injury you’ve had?” Marlene asks, and Regulus instantly tenses up. Out of all the questions that could have come from her mouth, it is the one that a majority of the people in this room would find uncomfortable. “I sprained my collarbone while playing rugby in primary school.”

“I fell from a tre—wait, no. My worst was when that bludger knocked me from my broom and I broke like ten bones.” James says, almost boasting as though the memory of that day doesn’t put an ache in Regulus’ bones. He had been worried sick, afraid the other boy might not wake up, or if he did, that the damage would be too severe to ever play Quidditch again.

“Mrs. Norris caught me while in animagus form last year.” Peter shudders. “I still have the scars from her teeth.”

“I think we all know what mine is.” Remus says, voice heavy. Sirius shifts in his seat, curling around Remus the best he can, as though that will shield him from the monster living in his own body. He tucks his face into Remus’ neck, muttering something there. Cheeks burning as he unwillingly intrudes in a private moment, Regulus turns to James.

“Potion explosion because somebody wasn’t paying attention.”

“You can hardly blame me when you are far more interesting than any potion we could have been brewing.”

“Uh, huh.”

“My blood oath with Evan.” Barty says, drawing everybody’s attention to him. He merely grins, wiggling his eyebrows at Evan.

“Your what?” How could he have missed two of the most important people in his live taking a blood oath? His curiosity lasts for as long as it takes for the devilish grin to materialize on Barty’s face. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”

“What about you, Sirius?”

“I think… oh! The time I was attacked by a nest of hornets.”

“I’m sorry, you were what?”

“I haven’t told you guys this one? Oh, its great!”

“It’s not great, Sirius. It was stupid and unnecessarily risky.”

“Well now I have to know.” James insists.

“Well, little Reggie here wanted honey on his toast, but we didn’t have any.”

“And instead of asking Kreacher like anybody else would have, the idiot went and—”

Sirius reaches over and clamps his hand over Regulus’ mouth. “Don’t spoil the story. Stop licking me, Reg. Anyway, I was, I don’t know, nine? ten? either way, there was this bee’s nest in the garden. Nobody ever told me there were different kinds of bees, let alone different kinds of nests. I thought they were all the same thing. Honey came from bees, and bees lived in that nest. So, I climbed on a nearby bench and pulled it down.”

“Sirius.” James gasps through laughter. “Why?”

“I thought I was being a good brother! I had no idea I was going to be attacked.”

Regulus pries Sirius’ hand from his mouth, “The idiot was bedridden for a week.”

“It was worth it.”

“How? What part of that entire incident was ‘worth it’?”

“We got to spend that whole week together, and mother couldn’t do anything about it.”

[lavylesby]

Family Reunion

hey guys! ^^ I officially have an AO3 account! :D so here's my first story (I'll be posting it here and on AO3):

Family Reunion

Author's Notes: There are two users on Tumblr, @akiiame and @coffeecat1983, who came up with the idea that Sonic is Mario and Luigi's pet. @akiiame made an adorable drawing, and @coffeecat1983 took it and ran with it as a fanfic. I would like to expand on this, as this is my first ever story on AO3, and I think it's an absolutely wonderful concept. Thank you reading my first story, and please don't hesitate to give me constructive criticism! Now then, onward and upward! ^^

"Hrrmgph." "Soonik." "Why does he keep making that sound?" Luigi laughed. He joyfully tossed the little hedgehog another treat, and continued chuckling at his hungry enthusiasm. Sonic. That's a perfect name, Mario thought. But where the heck did he even come from? And why is he blue? "Hey, Lu?" Luigi's ears perked up at his brother's tone. There was a slight hint of concern. "What's wrong, Mar?" he asked. "You don't think we could get in trouble, do you?" Mario replied. Luigi turned in his chair, being mindful of his cast. "Trouble for what? Clearly nobody was caring for 'im. You didn't know he'd show up at work." He got up and hugged his older sibling, who sighed. "We ain't do nothing wrong, bro," Luigi assured him. "If you want, we can take Sonic to the vet tomorrow and get 'im checked out." Mario gently squeezed his little brother. "OK. I guess it'll be alright." He turned to see the bright blue ball, eagerly snorting for more treats. "You gonna be spoiled, boy," Mario giggled. He scooped Sonic into his hands and hand-fed him one last treat. The little hedgehog must've realized this would be the end of his snacks, and he squealed in protest. "MMRRPGH!!" "SOOOOONIK!!" Luigi collapsed into laughter. "No more treats!" Mario chided him lovingly. "It's time for you to rest, buddy."

A few hours and a few helpings of Ma's lasagna later, Mario finished building and decorating Sonic's new home. Luigi chipped in where he could, even giving the rodent one of his favorite stuffed toys. Now, Sonic was fast asleep in his brand new, ultra fluffy bed, with all but his inquisitive snout being covered by a delicate blanket. Luigi was fascinated by the creature. He quietly hummed an Italian lullaby to help him sleep. Mario joined him later, and when the song ended, the bros embraced, and the older kissed the younger's cheeks. "How's your leg?" Mario asked gently. "It's just a dull pain right now," Luigi said. "I've got my meds, so I think I'll get a good night's sleep for once." Unfortunately, the pain from his injury had given him a nearly sleepless week. Luckily, he was stuck at home most days, so he could take naps when he had the chance. Luigi gingerly stood up and kissed his brother's forehead. "I'll be fine, fratellone," he murmured. "C'mon, let's go to bed." Mario took one last peek at his new pal. "G'night, Sonic," he whispered. As if responding, the spiky rodent let out a gentle, hushed grumble. The bros smiled at each other, happy to be hedgehog parents.

Sound asleep, Luigi snored peacefully. Despite being unconscious, he knew he was warm, comfortable, and safe, and his brother was at his side. Or was he? Luigi's brain prompted him to wake up. He realized that Mario was standing over him, having recently kissed his nose. "Mar?" he asked groggily. "Why are you up at 4 AM…?" "Spike called," he whispered. "I gotta come in, he said there's something I need to see." "Can't it wait until morning?" Luigi complained. "I dunno, he sounded pretty worried," Mario replied. "Y'know he never gets worried about anything." He grabbed his toolbox and ruffled Luigi's hair. "I made you some breakfast, you can heat it up when you're ready. Marty will come by to look at Sonic later," he said, Marty being the vet. Luigi mmphed a response. Mario shut the bedroom door behind him, and Luigi prepared to go back to the murkiness of sleep… …until Mario shouted. Quick, thudding footsteps made their way back to the bedroom. The door swung open. "Where's Sonic?!" Mario demanded. "Huh?? What do you mean?" Luigi said, still slightly confused. Perhaps he was dreaming. "He should still be in his cage…right?" "He's gone!" "Gone?? How?!" "The latch is wide open, and there's a hole in the front door!" Luigi was wide awake now. He ignored his leg pain and hurriedly began to dress. "I'm coming with you." "Lu, you need to stay!" "If Spike is worried, and you found Sonic at work, there's a good chance he went there and we'll find out what's going on. I have my crutches." Mario sighed. Despite his timid tendencies, he knew that once Luigi set his mind on something, there was no convincing him otherwise. "Well, c'mon then." The bros locked arms to aid Luigi, leaving their damaged door to be resolved later.

"Oh, thank God you're here!" Spike ran from the construction site to greet the bros. "Hey Luigi, whatta you doin' here? Thought you was patching up?" "I am," he said. "But Sonic is missing." "Eh, Sonic?" Spike paused for a moment. "Oh, the blue rat thing! Well, he ain't missing no more." Spike stepped aside, and to the bros' surprise, Sonic was standing right behind him. The so-called "blue rat thing" ran up to Mario and nuzzled his leg. "Boy, what is you doin'???" Mario exclaimed. "The sun ain't even out yet!" But before he could grab his strange companion, Sonic dashed off again, and motioned to the wrecking crew to follow him. "I couldn't sleep, so I came here to assess what our next step would be," Spike said. "All of a sudden the rat comes along and just would not stop squeaking! And he's so fast!" "Well, that would explain the door," Luigi chuckled. "But he would have to be REALLY fast to break it." "Yeah…" Mario agreed absentmindedly. His concern grew with every step he took to follow Sonic. Eventually, the group stopped at what appeared to be a nest. Sonic slowed down, and turned to face his humans. But before they could ask questions, Sonic turned back around and began uttering a low call. "ruuuuuuIMPH." "ruuuuuuuuuu…ruuuuuuuuIMPH." Mario, Luigi, and Spike shared hasty glances. They had no idea what was happening. "Tooooils…" "NuuuuuuuKLS…" "Soooodooow…" "Mimimimi…" The rodent continued repeating these calls, and to everyone's shock, several small creatures emerged from the makeshift nest. Mario was stunned. "Are-are…are those more hedgehogs???" Luigi gasped. "Look, one of 'em's got 2 tails!" Spike shouted. Sonic ran over to what could only be his family, his quills quivering joyfully. The creatures exchanged grunts, nuzzles, and rubs. Sonic turned once more, and you could almost make out a smile on his face in the early morning light. Mario managed to snap back to reality, and his heart filled with warmth. He knelt down to pet his blue baby. "Is this your family, buddy?" he asked. Sonic squeaked in response, and Mario caressed his ears. "Well, they can come with us." "They can??" Luigi gasped once more. Mario grabbed the two-tailed creature, who grunted gratefully. "Yeah…we can share them with Peach and the others, and they can meet each other sometimes." Spike was absolutely speechless. He just stared off as the bros scooped the petite animals and left. He heard a small bit of their fading conversation. "…Is Marty open now…?" "Yeah I guess we can…" "…Tails? That's awes…!" "I'm pretty sure he…"

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

Thanks for reading! ^^ Can't wait to get started on AO3. Once again @akiiame @coffeecat1983 thanks for the idea! :D

[mxstly-melancholy]

a TON of random SFW William hcs! ✮⋆˙

William is actually really good at playing guitar. I mean, Spring Bonnie plays a banjo so- it only makes sense he’s super good at both!!

Speaking of Spring Bonnie- he has an attachment to the suit because he feels better being hidden from everyone. He never has to worry about people looking at him when he’s Spring Bonnie.

On his days off I imagine he just likes to sit down and have a few beers, maybe a couple cigars… watch a movie, read a book, play guitar..

He doesn’t really like looking in the mirror :( not because he doesn’t like himself, but because he’ll get too fixated on “I’m getting older and time isn’t slowing down.”

He has adhd, and really bad fixation problems. He will not eat, drink or even think of himself for a whole day until he is done working on an animatronic, and suddenly - “oh fuck I’m starving, I’m really thirsty and I need to pee.”

Him & Henry have a lot of inside jokes- and employees look at them like they’re crazy when they say them- and laugh super hard together.

William loves dressing really nice. He loves suits, button ups, bows and ties. He loves super sleek black shoes as well. It makes him feel good about himself.

Other than purple, his favorite colors are yellow, pink, and baby blue.

His parents always kind of left him to do whatever he wanted. They were kind of weirded out by him- his behavior was “crazy,” but only because he was an undiagnosed neurodivergent child.

Because of that he has a hard time letting anyone in, he’s very shielded off from anyone but his partner and Henry.

He doesn’t think he’s husband material. At all. From his perspective, he’s awkward, weird & not the nicest person- so why would anyone want to be with him?

When he got his first animatronic up and running- he has never been happy like that day ever since. He was so proud of himself.

He got into making animatronics on accident when he was younger. I’d say about 23-25.

he was drawing one day, then suddenly it turned into a blueprint of Spring Bonnie. The ideas kept popping up-

He read so many books about machines, computers, everything and anything he could find about electronics, and the ideas kept coming.

He finally decided one day to go for it and he started tinkering with wires & plastic, molding and shaping clay and making casts of everything, and before he knew it- he had a whole animatronic.

He tore it down after some time and kept the information stored in his back pocket for later.

Growing up he didn’t have many friends. He spent most of his time just people watching.

When he was in elementary school- kids used to pick on him for his height. He was always so tall- standing out from everyone else. He hated it.

He got suspended from college once after some guy called him a loser, William didn’t like that. The guys head ended up being smashed into a table a few times.

As he gets older, his anger isn’t so strong anymore. Slightly thankful of that fact, he takes advantage of it to go do more things that usually would just piss him off.

He’s farsighted. It’s hard to see things up close. He really only uses his glasses when working on projects/reading.

He really loves music from the 70s/80s- and really only listens to that.

He faces towards the water in the shower.

He loves collecting vinyls & cassettes.

William only sleeps in his boxers. He can’t have anything else on or else he won’t be able to fall asleep.

It doesn’t matter how cold he is- he has to only be wearing his boxers.

Speaking of sleeping-

He can only fall asleep lying on his side.

He sleep talks here and there.

He tosses and turns a lot.

Unfortunately, he has a lot of nightmares too,

Often waking up in the middle of the night sweaty from them.

He has to have complete dark and silence in order to sleep, too.

His mind is constantly running and going- it’s the only way he’ll be able to shut it down.

He has a horrible, horrible sweet tooth.

I mean, constantly he just wants to eat sweets

He has had so many cavities.

He fucking hates the dentist but he goes anyways.

William exudes a LOT of confidence- but deep deep down he doesn’t feel confident.

He doesn’t - and has never really felt true empathy.

He KNOWS he should feel bad for certain people or things-

But there’s just a disconnect, and he doesn’t feel it.

Please let this man just info-dump on you about his little robot characters.

That’s all I got in me right now. :’) ik there’s more - I’ll probably make a pt2 at some point!

[roseverdict]

i kinda wanna know what kinds of insane unholy discourse sprouted up in ninjago over the idea of writing prime empire fanfiction when prime empire is a whole entire person and also a bunch of other whole entire people

#rosie babbles #ninjago

0 notes

🥋 i-am-okino-no-really

It has come to my attention that there are individuals writing fantastical tales describing adventures that I and others from within Prime Empire could potentially embark upon. While I would not request that these individuals cease in their actions, as several of these tales are genuinely quite entertaining, I do insist that people refrain from sending me any more of their…evocative…fiction detailing myself and my friends "getting it on freaky-style."

Unagami has also expressed distaste for the fiction depicting him as he was before he reunited with his creator, though especially when it is used for the purposes of depicting him "getting it on freaky-style." To be entirely honest, such purposes unnerve him regardless of the form used. If you simply must write such tales, please do not label them in such a way that a "Borgle" "Search" will immediately bring them up.

Please.

#prime empire

6.4K notes

🏎️ 7ace7-sevens-stee7ing-wheel

guys what do i do my url doesn't reflect blazey's name anymore but "blazey-h-speeds-stee7ing-wheel" is already taken 😭😭😭😭😭

24 notes

🌩️ jaybird-64

so apparently i still have my avatar from the game and idk how to feel about being able to make myself look like a dude whenever i want. i sure hope this doesnt awaken anything in m

WAIT STOP EVERYTHING I STILL HAVE AN ACTIVE CREDITS WALLET

IM BOUTTA DO SMTH WHOLLY UNWISE

#j64 chirps

314 notes

❄️ detectiveninja

Many, many thanks to @.bike-tones for the lovely drawing of myself and Pixal dressed as private investigators! I will be posting the art shortly, of course, but I just want to hoard it to myself for just a bit longer! 🤍

#my posts #re: #submissions #and #fanart

576 notes

🚲 the-purple-ninja

why did i just see somebody celebrating in the middle of the street

i nearly ran them over with my bike >0< i feel so bad

3 notes

🏎️ blazey-hype7-speeds-stee7ing-wheel

absolute galaxy brain idea hit me just now so OBVIOUSLY i went with it immediately no regerts

#heheheheheh

20 notes

🥋 i-am-okino-no-really

What is an "R.P.F." and why do people keep replying to me by mentioning it?

❄️ detective-ninja

I say this from the bottom of my heart: please do not ask. Only Kai dares venture to those corners of the internet with regard to ourselves and our adventures; the rest of us stay away for our own sanity.

⛈️ beta-jay-137

Why would you specify "with regard to [y]ourselves and [y]our adventures"? 🤨 /lh

⚡super-star-rockin-j

cmon @.detective-ninja leave my ninjaball run rpf alone!!!!! 😭

❄️ detective-ninja

Ah, so is that why I just heard you run face-first into the monastery wall?

🥋 i-am-okino-no-really

Now this is what I call entertainment. :)

#not prime empire

413K notes

🌩️ jaybird-64

ive got good news and wack news.

wack news: nearly got bowled over by a paperboy but like. i was in the middle of the road because of the good news so thats kinda on me

good news: SO, TURNS OUT IM A GUY-

#j64 chirps #all hail prime empire #free and instant top surgeey #*sugery #*SURGEU #*SURGERY #FSM #AAAAAAAAAAA

254 notes

😨 roseverdict

idk i just think ninjago's version of tumblr would be wild :D

[slcmml]

tech support! charlie & reader — you turn my software into hardware.

you hate making phone calls.

absolutely despise it, actually. something about talking to a stranger, especially for customer support, makes your skin crawl. but your laptop is acting up, and after scouring the internet for a solution and coming up empty handed, you seemingly have no other choice. so, you dial the number, swallow your nerves, and wait.

“hello! this is charlie from tech co’s customer support! how can i help you today?”

you weren’t expecting the voice on the other end to sound so… cute?

it’s warm, gentle, and just a little scratchy, like he’s been talking all day but still has patience to spare. suddenly, making this phone call doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

“hi, um. yeah. my laptop isn’t working? i mean, obviously, that’s why i’m calling, but, uh, it won’t turn on, and i have no idea why.”

“gotcha! let’s see if we can get that fixed for you!”

his voice is so reassuring you almost forget you’re actually supposed to be fixing something.

he walks you through the steps, patient as ever while you fumble through them. when you press the wrong button, he gently corrects you. when you let out a frustrated groan, he laughs—not in a mean way, but like he finds you endearing. and god, it makes your stomach do a little flip.

“it’s okay, take your time! i’m here to help, promise.”

and help he does.

except at some point, your laptop starts working again, but you don’t want tell him.

“huh? still not working? that’s weird.”

you lie straight through your teeth just to keep talking to him. it’s shameless, really, but you don’t even care. he’s kind, patient, and his voice is the nicest thing you’ve heard all day. so you keep up the act just a little longer, drawing out the conversation until there’s truly nothing left to say.

“well, i’m glad i could help! and if you need anything else, you know where to call.”

oh, you do. and you’re already thinking about it.

“you’ve been super helpful, by the way,” you say, hesitating just a little before asking, “um, what’s your name? so i can leave a good review?”

“oh! yeah, of course. it’s charlie.”

charlie. yeah, that suits him.

“thanks, charlie. i really appreciate it.”

“anytime.”

—

you call back the next day.

you shouldn’t. there is no reason to. your laptop is fine, perfectly fine, but—

“hello! tech support, how can i help you?”

your heart sinks for a second before you realize it’s not charlie.

“oh, um,” you stammer, scrambling for an excuse. “i, uh, had an issue with my laptop the other day, and i wanted to follow up? i think the guy who helped me was named charlie?”

“oh, charlie! yeah, give me a sec, i’ll transfer you over.”

your stomach does a whole flip before you hear the click of the line transferring.

“hello?”

oh, thank god.

“hey, charlie,” you say, and you hope he doesn’t hear the stupid little smile in your voice. “it’s me. again.”

“oh, hey! did something go wrong with your laptop?”

“yeah, it’s, uh. still kinda acting up.”

lie.

“oh no,” he says, immediately concerned. “what’s it doing now?”

you make something up on the spot, some vague, convoluted problem that doesn’t actually exist, but he still goes along with it. walks you through another set of steps, laughs ok when you struggle, and just—keeps talking to you.

and this time, you swear he’s stalling, too.

—

it becomes a thing. you call every couple of days with some tech issue you made up, and he never questions it, just helps you like normal and talks to you like he’s actually happy to hear your voice. (spoilers: he is)

until the one time you say, “ugh, this laptop hates me,” and he hums thoughtfully before going, “you know, for a laptop that’s given you this many problems, you sure seem to like using it.”

does this mean he knows?

“what?” you say, playing dumb.

“i mean, you’ve had, what, like five different issues this week?” he teases. “i’m starting to think you just like calling tech support.”

heat rushes to your face. “okay, first of all,” you say, indignant. “it was three times.”

“mmhm.”

“second of all,” you start, then stop. because what is your second point? that he’s right? that you do like calling tech support? or, more specifically, that you like calling him?

“whatever,” you mumble instead, hoping he can’t hear how flustered you are.

but if the way he’s laughing is any indication, he totally can.

—

a week later, you take it one step further.

you don’t call this time. you show up.

you made a small google search to find the address of tech co, the store he works at, before stepping inside with a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing under your skin. you don’t even know what he looks like, but somehow, you just know when you see him.

he’s standing behind the counter, light brown hair, slightly messy, sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms. he’s cuter than you imagined—not just cute, but like, unfairly pretty. and when his eyes meet yours, shining with kindness, you know you made the right call.

“hi,” you say, leaning onto the counter.

“hey,” he says back, smiling. “fancy seeing you here.”

“yeah, well. my laptop broke again,” you say, suppressing a grin.

he raises an eyebrow. “oh, did it now?”

“yeah.. completely fried. tragic, really.”

“oh, so tragic,” he echoes, playing along.

you both know you’re full of shit. neither of you really care.

“so,” he leans in just a little, resting his arms on the counter, closer to you. “now that i’ve seen you in person, should i expect more tech issues? or was this a one time thing?”

you laugh, feeling a little bold. “you think i’d come to your job just to say it’s a ‘one time thing’?”

“i hope not,” he says with a slightly nervous smile.

your heart flips. he’s so cute.

“well, it’s not,” you say, mustering all your courage. “‘cause, you know, i’ve got a real issue that could use your help.”

his grin widens. “mmhm. and what would that be?”

“i need your number. y’know, in case of emergency. i mean, what if my laptop explodes?”

he blinks.

then he laughs—soft, surprised, pleased—before pulling a receipt from the register and scribbling something on it.

when he slides it over, his fingers brush yours, and you think, yeah. totally worth it.

© slcmml

[premiumbitch]

THINGS TO MANIFEST - REGINA GEORGE THEMED PACK ! ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

hi luvs! I decided I'd make this regina george themed pack for the people who want to manifest themselves to be a completely different person, someone they will feel confident to be! also for the amazing shifters who can script this about themselves! enjoy :) (guys a quick disclaimer this one is sorta toxic pls don't kill me..)

⋆⛧┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈⛧⋆

BEAUTY ♡ //

Your beauty isn’t just stunning—it’s legendary, like a vision straight out of a movie.

Your hair is always perfect—blonde, sleek, and flawlessly styled like you’ve just walked out of a salon commercial.

Your skin glows with that perfect tan, as if you were born to bask in the spotlight, radiant and always on point.

Your eyes are sharp and captivating—every glance is calculated, every look feels like a command.

Your lips are full and painted to perfection, as if you were born to turn heads with every smile, or lack of one.

You have that effortlessly perfect look, even when you “don’t try”—everything about you screams that it’s too easy.

Your cheekbones are sculpted to perfection, cutting through the air as if you were chiseled from stone.

You move with a confidence that can only be described as powerful, each step exuding authority.

Your outfits are always on-trend, never just good, always next-level, and always attention-grabbing.

You make every look seem effortless—even when it’s a full-on runway moment.

Your presence is magnetic, drawing eyes the moment you enter a room because you’re untouchable.

Your nails are always perfectly manicured, with a touch of flair that screams wealthy and in control.

You don't need makeup to be beautiful, but you wear it like an art form—flawlessly sculpting your face with precision.

Your voice has the perfect pitch, one that demands to be listened to—everything you say sounds like a command.

Your beauty is intimidating—so perfect it makes everyone around you question their own.

AURA ♡ //

You have an aura of total dominance, like the queen of the world who’s never questioned and never challenged.

When you walk into a room, you don’t just take it over—you own it, as if the universe is yours to command.

Your energy feels intoxicating, pulling people toward you even if they know they shouldn’t get too close.

You carry yourself with a confidence that can’t be mimicked—people feel it before they even see you.

Your aura radiates a mixture of strength, superiority, and a little bit of mystery, making you feel untouchable.

You don’t just have a presence—you have a power that can make anyone’s world stop.

People are drawn to you like moths to a flame, but they’re too scared to get burned—because being near you means being tested.

You have the ability to make others feel like they don’t matter, simply by being too perfect.

Your confidence is so fierce, it’s almost intimidating—but it’s also magnetic.

You radiate a kind of cold, calculated charm—one that makes everyone around you feel a little inferior, but they love it.

You’ve mastered the art of making people feel like they’re lucky to be in your presence—even when you couldn’t care less.

Your energy doesn’t just fill a room—it changes the whole atmosphere, as if everything revolves around you.

There’s something almost dangerous about your aura—a reminder that you don’t just play the game, you control it.

You’ve perfected the balance between beauty and power—one that makes you seem untouchable and always in charge.

People want to be you, fear you, and admire you all at once—because your aura doesn’t allow for anything less.

SMARTS ♡ //

You’re not just smart—you’re the type of clever that can manipulate any situation to your advantage.

You have a strategic mind that never misses a single detail—you know exactly how to get what you want.

You never let anyone see you sweat—your brilliance is effortless, because you always have a plan.

You don’t just outsmart people—you make them think they had the idea first, without even lifting a finger.

You know exactly what to say and when to say it, using your words like weapons to get ahead.

You understand the importance of social currency—you know who to talk to and who to ignore, all for the perfect result.

Your intelligence is wrapped in charm, making even your most calculated moves feel like sheer luck.

You never let people see your vulnerability—it’s all part of your carefully curated persona of perfection.

You can manipulate a situation with just a look, making you a master of both strategy and seduction.

You’re the kind of person who can win over any crowd, make the perfect impression, and still come out on top.

Your smarts are not just about books—they’re about reading people, understanding what they want, and giving it to them just when they need it.

You’re an expert at blending in and standing out at the same time, making people never quite know how to handle you.

You’ve perfected the art of winning—and you never lose.

You’re not just the smartest in the room; you’re the most dangerous, because you know how to play every angle.

You’re the kind of genius that people don’t even see coming because they’re too distracted by your beauty and charm.

PERSONALITY ♡ //

You’re the definition of unapologetically confident—never second-guessing yourself, and never backing down.

You can make anyone feel small without even trying—but you don’t care because you know you’re untouchable.

You’re fiercely protective of your status—and you’ll fight anyone who threatens your place at the top.

You’re a master at manipulation, but you make it look charming, as if everything you do is part of your grand design.

You know how to make people love you and fear you at the same time—because both are useful.

You can destroy someone’s confidence in seconds, but you never lose your own, because you are the standard.

Your humor is quick, sarcastic, and filled with biting wit—you make people laugh, but only at their expense.

You have a knack for getting exactly what you want, whether it’s through charm, beauty, or sheer willpower.

You can make someone feel like they’re your best friend—and the next moment, make them your biggest enemy.

You love being in control of everything—and when you aren’t, you find a way to be.

You know the power of being feared, and you wear it like a badge of honor.

You are the ultimate influencer—with just a few words, you can change the course of someone’s life.

You exude power in every move, from the way you walk to the way you speak.

You’re not just admired—you’re revered, and everyone knows it’s not just because of your beauty.

Your personality is like a hurricane—chaotic, fierce, and impossible to ignore, leaving a lasting mark wherever you go.

hope you guys enjoyed! requests are appreciated! lmk if you want anything! <3

[calilk]

on: why bloodhound!tilly? please be prepared for my very half baked but enthusiastic rambling. this is very opinion based because i cater to MYSELF mwhahahhahahhaah

for me, a lot of the appeal of pearl and tilly’s dynamic is the idea of ‘them against the world’, and to heighten this, i love drawing parallels between the two, and what might’ve drawn them together in the first place (see pearl being a metaphorical lone wolf (as in abandoned and vunerable not alpha male ahhahaha) and tilly being a literal lone wolf, found trapped on the side of a mountain, pearl her only way out).

in particular, i love the fact they are together because they have no one else to turn to, because they are shunned and feared by others: hence, bloodhound tilly.

bloodhounds have many misconceptions around them, most relevant to this situation being aggressiveness. i know i certainly thought of bloodhounds as more aggressive for some time (i mean their name is literally bloodhound. the cover sounds very judgeable) when in reality they are more trackers, which could equally be misconstrued as them being something terrifying and dangerous, stalking you through the night, when in reality they are docile and affectionate, and while being good and scenting and driven, they are often gentle and slow to anger.

many people also do not consider them attractive dogs, their droopy skin being a deterrent to many, further contributing to this idea of something undesirable and to be shunned. their large size may also contribute to this dangerous, unmanageable and undesirable image

also, bloodhounds are quite susceptible to having red bloodshot eyes due to their drooping skin, further adding to this misconception of ‘dangerous’, and their similarities with pearl.

bloodhounds are also very much pack dogs, and due to tilly’s forced isolation with pearl, both due to the circumstances and her breeds, their codependency will only be heightened, both desperate for the connection that only many can provide, meaning they are overly dependent on each other

i also just LOVE the image of pearl snuggling up with a big overly protective dopey dog. i think she deserves a big dog she can hug for hours and can lick her until she feels better big slobbery style. lost my dog recently and am Missing Him™ so PROJECTING MY WISHES ONTO THE CUBITO MWHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!! also i just think bloodhounds and really cute so :3

plus, i know i just talked about misconceptions about the aggressiveness of bloodhounds, but i feel like they would look really cool running into battle/covered in blood/stalking the enemy. while pearl is more of a supernova burst of energy, tilly can compliment her, the slow, poldding, unstoppable force. i am no better than those i despise. or something.

i am aware that MANY of these traits are applicable to other breeds, others which would arguably be a better fit (see: xl bullies) and bloodhounds are dEFINAtely not white hahahhahaha but i just think it’s neat :3

also this sudden pivot away from how i’ve drawn tilly before was just the realisation that i wasn’t putting much thought into my tilly design, (spurred by smileymoth’s bull terrier design that i am ENAMOURED with) so this may be a bit of an over correction on my part, and may likely change in the future but !!!!! ye.

pearl n tilly fluff for the soul. featuring my EVIL and TWISTED bloodhound!tilly propaganda

[remxedmoon]

boo! old woman jumpscare

greyscale vers below!

[umblrspectrum]

another failed sneaking attempt

[bacchuschucklefuck]

space sweepers but they're delivery people and are at no point on screen through the entire movie

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bonus 7: Time moves sideways

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[ricky-mortis]

I think Dakkar should play that organ while they’re on the Nautilus.

[sysig]

Gift (Patreon)