#made into different materials. the paper arms made into paper. the rock arms made into rock. scissors arms made into metal

[aria0fgold]

tags by @wish-upon-the-universe

Oh god, okay-- I was thinking of doing this in tags but I'm pretty sure it'd be too long for that so here it'd be instead. So basically, my initial plans for the design was the star face, middle pair of hands, the tree trunk body, the hollow stomach, and the three halos with star beaded veils. The star face is self-explanatory in a way, for the middle pair of hands though, it was first meant to be in a form of praying, like how people clasps their hands together when wishing upon a shooting star. But then I thought about The Country, and how in a way, it's within the palm of The Universe's hands. So I changed it to them clasping their hands together loosely, I had to look at the mirror to figure out the anatomy of it and noticed that the back of my hands form a star shape, which resulted in that look! The star is meant to symbolize the wish that hid The Country, with The Universe protectively holding it close to their heart. I wanted it to also be a nod to that scene with the red star, where the star that turned red and formed cracks is the same one on The Universe's hands.

For the tree trunk body, I initially added that because of the many mentions of burnt sugar throughout the story, so like, plant! (Also the instances of Euphrasie saying that there's something rotting). But then while drawing it I also thought it'd be a nice way to symbolize a "world tree" in isat (like how myths have world trees!) and a nod to the Favour Tree. For the hollow stomach, it was a nod to the many mentions of Siffrin feeling hungry throughout the whole game despite having eaten Bonnie's snack, and the star in it is a nod to "You feel a tug on your stomach," with the star symbolizing Wish Craft. For the three halos, it initially didn't look like that at first, it was meant to intersect each other with stars dangling from it. But I decided to change that among a lot of other things which is what I'll be talking bout next!

The other two pair of hands wasn't actually part of my initial design! But I was looking at my first draft and thought: "Not creature enough..." and gave them one more pair (which is the bottom pair) but after I added that one, I realized that I practically had 2/3 of the rock paper scissors sign so I added another to symbolize the "paper" sign! (Basically... I added the bottom pair as just to show a star formation with it for the hollow stomach so as to not block the star floating in it). And well, it is The Universe so it'd make sense they have symbolism in regards to the main power system of the universe! The tree trunk body had changes too, it was meant to swirl one way instead of being split in two like that but then I the star shape at the bottom made it difficult for me to pull that off so I decided to roll with it and give them stars there too! The halos had the biggest change though, at first I wanted three intersecting ones, but then decided on only one large one but zooming out on it makes the top look a little empty so I gave them two more there.

The halos were also supposed to have a fully beaded veil of stars but while doing that, found it difficult to tell which is the front and which is the back with the angle I chose. Basically my initial plan for it to be a fully beaded veil is to make the top part seem like the leaves of a willow tree. Scrapped that idea though and decided to just make the front beaded, and instead of randomly putting beads on it, chose to put constellations instead (the beads at the very end had a last minute change before I went to do the colouring in that I discovered the song Sirius' Heart and wanted to add morse code for "I love you" on it). The morse code repeats twice (one both ends, with the middle just having stars). When I was thinking of what to put on the back, I decided on a "cloth" to act as a "scroll." It's meant to symbolize the scripts in which those with that belief follow as a nod to "The Universe leads, we follow."

But while doing the lines for it (figuring out how to draw it as flowing with the cursed angle I chose), I was hit with the idea of making it look like a person's face. It was meant to be like-- those silhouette tests about "What do you see first? A face or a vase?" thing but because of the angle-- it's always the angle-- it was harder to pull off so I decided to change the lower part of it to a butterfly as a nod to the sayings about butterfly effect and that a butterfly's wings can cause a hurricane. It was also hard to pull off a butterfly shape on it too cuz the angle-- ...it made it look like a mermaid's tail in several past attempts... So yeah! That's basically how my thought process went with designing The Universe!

Finally done with my version of The Universe's design!

[blitzyn]

shut up

childe x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> im sick and tired of winter WHERE IS SUMMER. help i wrote some of this in public so i had to stop myself from acting out some of the motions just to figure out how to write it lmao. guys i kinda made him a little mean i just got a little carried away oopsies. anyways one more non req and ill work on reqs i hope

wc -> 3.8k

cw -> very dubcon, hate sex, a lil bit of blood, anal sex, spit as lube, not a lot of prep, degradation, manhandling, throat fucking, asphyxiation, reader is a masochist, mean dom childe, spitting (in ur mouth like once), chokehold, prone bone position for like 2 seconds lmao, brief descriptions of fighting, reader offs someone cuz he felt like it kinda, it starts sorta abrupt tbh lol, not beta read

Childe fucking hated you. This was old news—absolutely anyone who had the barest idea who he was knew that. Everyone within a twenty meter radius could hear him arguing about something, and it never seemed to be about the same thing more than once. There always seemed to be something the two of you nitpicked about each other, throwing it out into the open which, more often than not, led to a fight with no clear winner.

There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it since the two of you were Harbingers. You were ranked tenth after Signora’s death and The Balladeer’s desertion, just behind Childe who was in ninth. But that didn’t stop you from riling him up relentlessly, even finding some type of enjoyment from his anger because you knew it wasn’t particularly common to see. Really, there wasn’t much of a power difference between the two of you other than the fact that you were less experienced.

As such, you were often assigned to missions together—if assigned meant that you simply joined him when you didn’t have anything important to do, much to his obvious displeasure.

This time, you followed him towards a hideout hidden between large rocks. It was simple, and you preferred that it wasn’t so easily accessible, but you supposed that hiding it in plain sight was acceptable for now.

“I don’t like how easy it is to find this place,” you commented, taking in your surroundings as if you were impressed by how large the area was compared to the small cave entrance. “It’s so obvious.”

Childe only offered you a grunt in acknowledgement, making his way past a few scattered materials on the floor. This wasn’t a facility that the Fatui used as much as before, but some machines were still operational and functioning.

“Ignoring people when they’re talking to you is rude, Tartaglia,” you chided, but you couldn’t care less that he wasn’t responding. “Besides, it’s not like you disagree with me. You wouldn’t want a poor, helpless child accidentally stumbling across this place while they’re playing a game.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you could see him grit his teeth when he noticed the smug expression on your face. “Nobody’s gonna find the entrance. It’s been around for years and there hasn’t been a trespasser.”

“Really?” You hummed, nodding slowly to yourself. “If you say so.”

He eyed you warily, instantly skeptical of how quick you were to accept his statement. But that wasn’t important right now—he needed to retrieve some documents and collect money from a few debtors.

“Just… Just stay here. Don’t touch anything,” he instructed, unnerved by how you obediently sat on a rickety chair and watched him expectantly.

“Yessir,” you replied with a playful tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest comfortably.

He silently stared at you for a few moments. “What are you planning?” He blurted out, annoyed with the eyebrow you raised in question. “You don’t like listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his accusation. “I don’t really favor getting chewed out by whoever needs those papers, so hurry up and get what you need. I’d rather talk to the debtors, anyways.”

He didn’t move from his spot for a few more moments before hesitantly making his way toward an isolated room, seemingly accepting your response. You chuckled through your nose at his reluctance as you swirled your finger around, creating a small rabbit made out of Cryo. It was quiet and unassuming as it silently hopped around before you sent it out of the room, searching for any valuable items worth keeping as you waited.

You leaned back in boredom, shutting your eyes to focus on keeping the rabbit's form. You could feel a faint hint of interest radiating through you from your creation, cringing slightly at the smell of metal before you relaxed again. The rabbit was mid-search when an arrow whizzed past it, nicking its back. Quickly, it fled, leaving a trail of Cryo. The hunter cursed loudly and chased after it, but it wasn't long before it made it to its destination.

Curious, you released your focus on the rabbit as you stood up to pick up whatever it found. You looked up when the hunter suddenly walked through the cave entrance, slightly surprised to know that they hadn't stopped trying to go after your rabbit. The two of you stared at each other before you spoke up in mild disinterest.

"Can I help you?" You questioned, inspecting your find once again. It was shiny and had intricate designs on it, but ultimately worthless.

"Uh... Uh, yes! Yes, you can," they said after a moment, scoping the area in search of their nonexistent rabbit. "Have you seen a white rabbit run through here? Small, quick, and leaving some sort of trail behind it," they described eagerly, taking a few steps forward.

"I'm afraid you can't come in here," you said, raising a hand to stop them in their tracks. You analyzed them for a moment, taking in their appearance. They couldn't have been older than fifteen, with shaggy brown hair and tanned skin.

"Then why are you in here?" They countered stubbornly, crossing their arms. It seemed they forgot all about their hunt in favor of digging into your business.

"That's none of your concern," you replied, ignoring their questioning gaze above your shoulder. "If you don't leave now, I'll have to resort to force."

You bristled a little when you saw them roll their eyes. Too stubborn for their own good, apparently. "Yeah? Well, I'm the chief's kid. What's a weird-looking guy like you gonna do to me?"

You frowned, visibly offended. You stared at them for a moment before raising your dominant hand again, this time letting an icicle form on the tip of your middle finger before flicking it directly at them. In the blink of an eye, they went down with a loud thud. "Kill you," you replied to the body.

You walked up to them and lifted their head by their hair, examining the wound on their forehead with a hum. Blood leaked in copious amounts down their face, and you couldn't stop the grimace when some landed on your foot.

"Oh, shit," you hissed under your breath when you caught a better look at them. You wondered why they seemed so vaguely familiar to you when the realization suddenly hit you-the chief was one of the debtors. You pursed your lips before standing up with a shrug, placing a hand on your chin to ponder different ways to dispose of the body without tarnishing the Fatui's name even further. "I suppose I could just toss them in a lake? Or lure in a wild animal to eat them? Burning's too obvious..."

"What the fuck did you just do?" You heard Childe curse from behind you. You turned around to face him, eyebrow twitching in interest when you noticed his normally void eyes alight with fury. Honestly, though, you didn't quite understand why he seemed so upset. Maybe it was because of how transactions with the debtor may not go as smoothly as he wanted, or the fact that the person you killed was still technically a child.

"Someone found the entrance," you shrugged, unbothered by his reaction. "We don't want anyone finding important information about the Fatui, right? So I killed them. I told you it was easy to spot." You rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever, which only served to anger him. You tried to make your way past him deeper into the facility in search of something interesting to take when a sudden blur slammed your body into a wall. You let out a pained grunt, instinctively wrapping your fingers around the wrist where he pinned you down by your throat.

You knew he was ruthless when he needed to be, but you weren't given a chance to see it with your own eyes up until now. He was far from gentle, holding your delicate neck with such ferocity it made your skin tingle. It was exhilarating.

"Like hell they just conveniently found the entrance," he spat, his voice low as he glared deep into your watering eyes. "You deliberately lured them in here, didn't you? And for what? Because you were bored?" He refused to slacken the hold around your throat, internally finding that he preferred how you looked when you couldn't breathe.

"You—cough—You're much the s-same, Tartaglia," you strained out, trying to furiously blink away your tears. "Don't pretend you don't crave vi-violence, too."

You could see him grit his teeth just before he tossed you to the floor, watching you cough and regain your breath with disdain in his eyes. "No. Don't compare me to a fucking psychopath like you. I don't kill kids just because I feel like it!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," you groaned, rubbing your sore skin. You could still feel his hand around your throat, his grip burned into your flesh in a way that sent a familiar heat through your groin. He took a second to examine your body before zeroing in on the growing bulge between your legs, disbelief written on his expression.

"There's no damn way," he muttered to himself as if trying to convince himself you weren't aroused by him strangling you. With a growl, he stepped forward and harshly pressed a foot on your crotch, merciless with the amount of pressure he used. He watched in disgust as your hips jerked in response, frowning deeply at the pained moan you let out. "You're seriously turned on?"

"If it wasn't obvious—" You were unceremoniously cut off by a swift kick to your jaw, accidentally biting down on your tongue. You tasted the metallic tang of your own blood that originated from your mouth and your nose, wiping it away quickly. Your cock only throbbed with an increased fervor in your pants that strained for release against the fabric.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, staring down at you for a few moments, deciding what to do with you now that he had this newfound information in his hands.

"What's gotten you so upset?" You teased him, obviously not taking your situation seriously. You felt a pleasurable chill run down your spine at the fierce look he gave you, sitting up a bit in anticipation when you saw his hand stray down toward his pants, roughly undoing them.

"You just can't shut your mouth, can you?" He hissed, leaning forward a bit to grab a handful of your hair. He yanked you closer, forcing you onto your knees as he pressed the tip of his flaccid cock against your waiting tongue. "Fine, then. I'll shut it for you."

You hummed at the salty taste of his skin, raising your hands up to hold onto the swell of his muscular thighs. He groaned quietly when you dragged your tongue along a prominent vein on the underside of the shaft, looking up at him through your lashes. You let out a garbled moan when he forced you all the way down to the base, seemingly satisfied with the way you gagged a little.

Your nose was buried within his pubic hair as your throat tightened and spasmed, feeling yourself beginning to drool as the thick strands of saliva seeped out of the corners of your lips. You could hardly breathe, but you loved it. You loved the way he tugged on your scalp, starting to move his hips back and forth. You tried to contribute as much as you could, but the way you could feel his cock hardening sent a pleasant ache through your jaw.

"Fucking hell... You're not fit to be a Harbinger," he spat, holding you still as he reached down to swipe a bit of the blood from your nose to messily wipe it on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing, but the patterned swipes made it clear what he was writing.

S, L, U, T.

The word sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You could feel your cock twitch in your pants, leaking a profuse amount of precum that served to stain the fabric. You let out a moan and slipped a hand underneath your clothes, jerking yourself off shamelessly.

He let out a breathy scoff at the sight, but he couldn't help the way his dick throbbed when your throat squeezed around him. "You're too good at this," he groaned, gradually moving his hips faster until he was fucking your face. "You don't belong in the Fatui. You're better off at a goddamn whorehouse."

He relished in the sound of your chokes and gags, finding that he preferred this much more than your voice. He let out a heavy sigh and shut his eyes, tilting his head back in ecstasy as he lost himself in the sensations. He was unaware of how you shifted your hand lower, using your precum as a subpar replacement for lube to push two of your fingers in your hole. You weren't in any particular rush as you leisurely pumped them in and out of you, adding in the wet sounds to your strained moans and ragged breaths. You were brought back to your senses when you heard him bark out a mocking laugh, squinting up at him through the tears that accumulated along your lashes.

"You're fucking pathetic," he muttered lowly, almost to himself, but you knew it was directed at you. "Is this—shit—all it took? You just needed a dick shoved down your throat, huh? Should've known you were such a whore," he demeaned, and you could only whine in response. Suddenly, he leaned a bit forward to press the sole of his shoe onto your aching cock, watching intently at the way you choked in surprise. "Maybe the rest of us should get a turn with you? Turn you into our little fucktoy? Our good-for-nothing cumdump?"

A grin made its way onto his pale face, turned on with the amount of control he had over you. His left hand slid lower, maintaining a firm grip on the junction between the back of your head and neck as his other one moved up to pinch your nostrils shut. He thrust harder, faster, shuffling closer when you tried to tilt your head away. He ignored your muffled protests and focused solely on getting himself off, letting out satisfied groans that you weren't fully there to appreciate.

It wasn't until you could hear a high-pitched ringing did he finally cum, shooting his load down your throat without a care for whether or not you could properly swallow it. He held himself there for a moment longer before he pulled himself away with a harsh shove to your body. You coughed and panted hard, taking a moment to regain your composure before looking back up at him, eager for more.

"Still not satisfied?" He questioned rhetorically. You both knew you weren't done yet, not when you found out how he could get when you pushed his buttons just the right way. "Stupid question, huh?" He huffed a laugh through his nose before roughly kicking you onto your stomach, dropping to his knees not a moment later. He haphazardly tugged your pants and underwear down in one go, ignoring the pained hiss you made when you felt yourself sandwiching your drooling cock between your abdomen and the floor. He spread your ass apart to spit on your asshole, shoving a finger inside you for good measure before jerking himself off using some of his saliva.

"Tartaglia, please—hurry," you whined, looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. It was satisfying to see you in such a pitiful state, but the sound of your voice, although hoarse and raw, annoyed him.

"Be quiet or I'll leave you here like this," he snapped, giving your asscheek a quick slap before positioning himself over your hole. He rubbed the tip of it against your skin for a moment before pushing himself inside, groaning loudly at the feeling of you clamping down on him so perfectly.

It fucking hurt; after all, you only used two meager fingers to prepare yourself, and even then, you hadn't done much. It burned like he was tearing you apart but in the best damn way. The pain of being stretched out so mercilessly only mixed in with the insatiable fire in your groin, shooting jolts of electricity up your spine so intense you nearly came on the spot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tartaglia, please, you're so—!" You cut yourself off with a moan when he suddenly slammed himself down all the way, ramming the head of his cock against your sensitive prostate.

"I said shut up!" He demanded, pressing his hips down to grind against you. He wasn't as deep as he could go in this position, but he still managed to fill you up just right. You groaned when he leaned down, pinning you to the ground with his body weight as an arm snaked around the front of your throat, pressing it against you firm enough to restrict some of your airflow.

Instinctively, you raised a hand to grab at his forearm, digging your nails into the scarred skin in a futile attempt to get him to ease up. You could hear every sound that left his lips, every labored breath that brushed the shell of your ear. It didn't take him long to start moving, pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you mercilessly. You could feel every inch and vein with each drag of his cock, your body jolting alongside his harsh thrusts, grinding your dick up and down on the ground.

"God... you're so damn tight," he muttered, picking up the pace. A low moan escaped his throat when he pressed against your prostate just right, ignoring your fleeting struggle.

It was hard to breathe. You could feel him everywhere around you all at once, and it didn't help that he fucked you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. Your moans and whines were strained and hoarse, clawing at his arm, but you knew you didn't really want him off. Your body ached at his rough handling as wet slaps echoed through the abandoned facility, briefly wondering if anyone outside could hear, but you could hardly maintain your train of thought long enough for it to become a concern. He fucked you fast and rough, hips slamming against your ass hard enough to sting, but he didn't find it in himself to care.

"Tar-Tartaglia! Slow...—!" You tried to plead, beginning to find everything overwhelming when you cut yourself off with a squeal. He quickly shifted himself, leaning back to hold your throat with his hands as he pulled, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably.

"No," he replied, tilting his upper half over you just enough to spit in your gaping mouth. He felt you tighten in response as he relaxed his hold the slightest bit, feeling you swallow his saliva eagerly. "You wanted this. So you're gonna fucking take it."

The heat in your belly intensified to an unbearable degree, and with the way he practically filled up every crevice of your hole, you weren't sure you were going to last much longer. With one hand on your throat, he moved his other one down to spread one of your asscheeks to intently watch his cock move in and out of you. He could feel every twitch and shudder you made, and it satisfied him to know just how easy you were to break down despite your initial resistance.

"Fuck... I can feel you," he groaned, yanking your head back a bit to get you to look at him. "You're about to cum, huh?"

It was hard to find the right words to reply when he fucked every thought out of your head, but the panic in your eyes made it clear that you didn't want him to stop so suddenly. And although he wanted to see you beg like the whore you were, he needed to finish this quickly. He still had a job to do, after all.

"You're lucky I still need to collect some money," he growled, glaring at you with familiar disdain. "Otherwise I would've left you like this for hours."

With renewed vigor, he removed his hand from your throat to roughly push your face down by the back of your head, tugging your hips up to bury himself deeper inside your ass. You cried out in ecstasy as your eyes rolled back, making an attempt to withhold your orgasm when he wrapped his fingers around your throbbing cock, jerking you off in time with his punishing thrusts, but to no avail. Barely a moment later, you came with a loud moan, cumming so hard it left you lightheaded and dizzy.

He chased after his own release, giving you a few more rough thrusts before he stilled, burying himself as deep as he could go inside you. You could feel his thick cock throbbing as he filled you up with his cum, shuddering at the warmth before you slumped back down to the ground. He remained still for a moment longer, catching his breath while he watched you tremble. With a sigh, he pulled out, grimacing a little at the sight of his dick slick with fluids, but he tucked it back in his pants regardless.

"Get up. We have to hide the body and get to the chief before anyone finds out you killed his kid," he said impatiently, walking towards the hunter to inspect it.

"Just... Just bury them, or something," you suggested, taking a moment to calm down before pulling your pants up. Finding a reflective surface, you summoned a bit of your Cryo and melted it with your body heat to wipe away the crusted blood on your face.

"Eugh... I can feel your cum," you found the energy to complain, turning to face Childe with annoyance written on your face. The audacity.

"Shut up and let's go. We're already behind schedule after your bullshit." He scowled, picking up the body, already having decided what to do with it. At least it wasn't your problem anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," you said, quickly fixing your appearance. If it weren't for the slight limp in your gait, nobody would be able to tell he just fucked you within an inch of your life. Perks of being a Harbinger, you suppose.

cross-posted on ao3

[southerntigress]

Fan Cam

I was front row at Motley Crue's show waiting for them to start when a light came on the stage and Nikki walked up to the mic.

" you guys ready to rock?" He yelled in the mic and everyone cheered loudly including me

"Well tonight we are doing things a little different we're going to be recording tonight's show but one of you guys will be helping record" he yelled and the crowd went crazy again

"Now which one of you crazy motherfuckers wanna join us" he said and again the crowd went even more insane

Nikki smiled and looked out into the crowd his eyes landed on me we made eye contact and he smirked " you right there" he said as he pointed at me "you look like a good time, what ya say wanna come get crazy with us?" He asked and I nodded

He leaned forward and reached out his hand and I put mine in his and pulled me on stage.

He looked me up and down and smiled " alright we are going to get set up and show this little vixen here how to work this camera we will be back in 10 to face fuck yall" he said and wrapped his arm around me as we headed into dark wings off stage.

He grabbed a camera and handed it to me " you know how to work one of these right?" "Of course I do I use them all the time at home" I said

Nikki raised his eyebrow and smirked at me "oh I bet you do" he winked

"Oh my God what? No not like that" I said and laughed

He just grinned at me and walked towards me put his hands on shoulders " well we are about to see how good you really are. You have free range of the stage feel free to move around and film any and everything including yourself" he said

"Awesome" I smiled

Just then someone came up to us and said it was show time I pushed the record button and followed nikki on stage. It was so awesome being able to get in on the action and interact with them.

Nikki kept flirting with me and durning 10 seconds to love he came up to me and  the camera and licked it and then pointed at me leaned around the camera and whispered in my ear your next wink and walked off.

Even Vince would mess with me durning girls girls girls he was dancing on me and pulling my hair and getting close to my face like he was gonna kiss me and Nikki noticed and came in between us and pushed him away he kissed me instead and then smacked my butt and winked. I was kinda freaking out after that but in a good way.

After the show  I was backstage putting the camera up I went to walk off when a security guy came up to me and said nikki wanted to see me he gave an envelope. I opened it and it said " Really enjoyed having you with us tonight on stage, now I want a little one on one time meet me in my room in an hour xo Nikki" I clutched the paper in my hand and opened it again staring at his room number. I made my way outside to my car and headed back to my room to freshen up before meeting Nikki again.

I looked at the note once again to make sure I'm wasn't dreaming and realized that Nikki was staying at the same hotel as me just a couple doors down. Oh well least I won't have from to go if things go wrong which I doubt they will. I head to the bathroom to get a shower when I'm done I get dressed deciding to stay casual. Barefaced and in my pjs I make my way to his room. I knock on his and he answers dressed just as casual as me except he is shirtless.

I stand there for a second frozen in place when he suddenly grabs me and brings me inside and as soon as the door shut he has me against it kissing me hard and rough hands roaming my body. He grabs my ass and presses himself against me even more I can feel him thru the thin material of his pj pants I moaned into the kiss as i grind my hips into his he groans and starts to grind back into me he bites my lip pulling back on it as he squeezes my ass harder. We finally break the kiss to catch our breath and look at each other

"Damn baby" he said smirking

" you started it" I grinned

"I did and I'm gonna finish it too" he said

"Then do it, after all you did make a promise" I smirked

"Oh and I'm gonna make good on that promise and then some" he smirked and then claimed my lips again

[tsupertsundere]

FFXIVWRITES 2024 - DAY 5 - STAMP Complete ---- 1,777 words ---- Notes: The instant I saw the prompt I knew I could do nothing but this.

“The Postmoogle’s PostPals Initiative’s aim is to unite young people across the world through the act of writing letters to each other!” Angeline Carax declared, pride shining in her voice. “Yes…” came the more uncertain reply, from one G’raha the Tia. “With the help and organization of the Postmoogles, letter exchanges between pals can reach across not only continents, but even onto other shards!” “You’ve said….” “We’ll provide all the materials, writing implements, composition books - the pilot program connecting Idyllshire and Ishgard has gone SO well we’re ready to proceed with expanding all across Hydaelyn.” “You know I couldn’t be happier to hear that,” G’raha said, his delivery less than convincing, “but… my love, I have to ask. Why am I going to be the one on the stamp?”

If his voice held somewhat more of a plaintive cry than usual, it was because he found himself up on a small raised platform in Tataru’s atelier in rather different clothes than usual for a rather different purpose. “Not just stamps,” Tataru said from her perch at her table. Her hands hadn’t stopped for the past hour they had been in here, shuffling papers and clacking around on an abacus and, from time to time, juggling a handful of lalafell-palm-sized balls with an intense frown on her face before putting them down at once and attacking something else. “There’s mailers, posters, some initiative flyers, ideally we can pass them around - “ Angeline rounded on Tataru, waving her hands to try to get her to stop, but G’raha’s tail was already going, whipping back and forth intermittently, though his placating smile grew only a touch more forced. Tataru studiously kept her head down and hummed cheerfully to herself beneath Angeline’s glare.

Angeline stepped up onto the viewing platform and took G’raha’s hands in both of hers, even as he kept talking under his voice, just to her, “Don’t get me wrong, I was so happy you asked, I just - well I certainly can’t be the right person for the job. My days of being any kind of - of figurehead, visual or otherwise, are long behind me - “

Angeline rocked forward on the balls of her feet and dropped a kiss on the corner of his mouth - he stopped short, which was the point. His eyes widened, flicked to Tataru (not paying attention), then closed when they met again for a slower kiss. “Everyone is going to be wondering why it isn’t you,” G’raha murmured when they parted, just barely. “I’m wondering why it isn’t you. It’s your project!” “It is my project. Why would I want to stare at myself over and over again?” Angeline replied, stepping forward to slide her hands along his flank, to settle them on his hips. “I’m setting this up exactly how I want it. Is that bad?” A crimson cast had settled onto his face, making him enter into competition with his hair. He shook his head quickly and flushed even harder when she smiled at him, full sun. Angeline reached up to readjust the navy cap he wore, sending the brilliant pink glowing moogle heart bouncing above his head. “Then I have a Postmoogle General to capture,” she said, and tugged him forward in her wake, again and for always.

🎐🎐🎐

The bridge that she had picked - one of the many that crisscrossed and linked the rocks, shoals and docks that made up Limsa Lominsa - reflected the sun white hot off the stone, and the sky was crisp and blue, lightly clouded. G’raha Tia was doing his best School Picture Day imitation, his arms held awkwardly akimbo at his sides, stock in the center of the bridge. “Has the boy forgotten what standing is like?” the hired roegaedyn pictomancer muttered to herself, rubbing the back of her wide neck as the white plain of her canvas radiated to beat the stones.

Angeline clapped her hands and then megaphoned them around her mouth to call to him. “Okay! Now let’s relax….! Great! Give me relaxed!” G’raha shifted in indecision, casting his gaze back and forth as if to catch some kind of inspiration, and then stiffly put his hands on his hips and puffed his chest out. “No - not quite - !” Surprised and chagrined his first attempt didn’t cut it, his hands flitted but never settled on adjusting his cap, plucking at his little necktie, gripping the bright red mailbag at his side. “We’re aiming for relaxed - !” He crossed his arms and wrenched his torso to the side, mimicking Estinien’s coolness in his mind but coming off rather more like in the throes of despair. “Relaxed - “ G’raha stared out to her mournfully, his eyes the saddest and wettest rubies that were nevertheless trying their absolute utmost. Angeline exchanged glances with the pictomancer, who with a sigh sank onto a little folded stool and settled herself in for a long day of hurrying up and waiting. Angeline set her expression into the most double plus sparkling warm supportive one but as she turned to approach her erstwhile stranded star -

The rapid padding of feet gave them a second of warning before a little body barreled into G’raha, hitting him in the small of the back and making him yelp and stumble. There was a crash and a hiss and flutter of heavy packets scattering and loose pages escaping free, and even as G’raha twisted to try to catch the young girl that knocked into him, she was Intent on using him as a springboard to lunge for her spilled belongings, a stream of expletives and complaints and invectives spiraling from without cease. By the time G’raha caught and steadied himself on the bridge’s railing, the floating pages, about seven in all, had long slipped the reach of everything but the girl’s rising wail.

A switch flipped - G’raha lifted his hands, stepped forward, and began to cast, practiced and sure. The smallest expanse contracted and in an instant-length eon, he spread his hands and with certainty the pages were neatly stacked in them, matched by a relieved smile. The girl whipped around from her position wrapped around the opposite rail so fast it sent her short braids smacking directly into her face. She shook her head roughly and when she looked again her furious expression was coated in tears - not of relief, she insisted for the record. Braid got in her eye.

Angeline wrapped her arms around herself as she watched, twisting back and forth to her own rhythm in private personal joy. There he was, that thing that could never go away, not in a hundred years or a million. One that he couldn’t even to the best of his ability hide, stamped in deep on his heart and filled with gold. That thing that she would always long to see… Lurching in from the side of (or perhaps springing from) those sentimental thoughts was a notion that made her unpeel one arm from herself, send her hand vaguely questing for the pictomancer’s shoulder.

G’raha Tia had by this point helped the girl (a shipyard’s solicitor’s assistant, as it turned out) re-gather the rather prodigious amount of bundled paperwork and notes, and to secure them more surely with package twine he handily pulled from his mailbag. It was only until his fussing began to risk demolishing her newfound goodwill did he let her go and watch her run off, wishing her luck softly and sweetly. By this point Angeline’s groping hand had long since found its mark, grabbing the pictomancer’s shoulder and slapping at it lightly but with increasing intensity until she looked up from her tomephone - but at once she caught what Angeline had. Paint hit the canvas the instant the girl trotted by them, shooting them odd looks that grew even odder when she registered what Angeline kept saying, her voice so bright and ringing Limsa’s corridors picked it up and threw it ahead of the girl on her way home - “Tell me you got that! TELL me you got that! Tell me you got that…!!”

🎐🎐🎐

G’raha, if it were up to him, would have been perfectly happy to put the whole scenario out of his mind and just enjoy getting the opportunity to have something definedly low-stakes to do every once in a while (Aymeric had spoken energetically and profusely about how much adding personally scheduled stints as the Azure Elephant helped him). Angeline wasn’t having it.

“If it were something else, maybe, but I want you to see this one.” She scooped her arms under his to hug him to her, back to her chest, then turned him and walked him forward, kicking his legs with hers. He sunk against her and groaned, taking the opportunity to press his face onto the base of her jaw, an enforced blindness suffused with her scent. He didn’t wanna.

“Omg. Calm down,” Angeline teased, coming to a stop and settling in. She caught both his wrists in one hand and settled his hips back onto hers, bundling him tight. She had a hand free to tilt his head back down but he took a deep breath of her in, sighed, and spared her the effort. Then he opened his eyes and took himself in.

The Postmoogle General stood enveloped in whirling letters emerging out of Limsa’s seagulls and clouds, bright sky and cobbles, as sturdy a pillar in the maelstrom as the quintessential Lominsan lamppost that anchored one end of the bridge. His fine navy coat had long beribboned tails to match the bow in his own, his chest crisscrossed with gold straps and medals, and crowned above all with the Postmoogle Bag in ardent red. A girl - the girl - disappears off the edge of the painting, in the flow of and leading the swirl of letters through Limsa and wherever they may be going. Wherever it may be, wherever her words and those of her fellows, they would be watched over and safeguarded, his hand still gently outstretched from having helped send her off.

The star of hope in his eye, that lit his face, that burned in him, warmth and illumination set inside a crystal case - “That’s the Initiative,” Angeline said, resting her cheek on his head and twisting and swaying with him. “That's what I always want to see, anyway.” G’raha was quiet for a long time, long enough for her to twist him a little further on one sway so she could peek at his face. It just sent him burrowing deeper into his scarf, red on red again. “I don’t think I look the best in navy, but it’s a wonderful composition,” was the model’s final comment on the piece.

[quietblueriver]

Part II of the Camp Prudaj AU, featuring equine therapist Imogen and children’s vlogger Laudna. Part I here.

In which Laudna appears and charms Imogen through a phone screen.

-

The episode opened on a tiny animated paw batting at a skein of red yarn, which unraveled to spell Crafting Creatures as a melody, something that sounded like it was coming from a phonograph, played in the background. It was cute and seemed fairly normal for a show aimed at children, even if the paw was a little gaunt.

And then the creature to whom the paw belonged came running out after the yarn, scruffy black rodent body and bone-white bird skull head skittering across the screen, a small with Laudna and Pate scrawling in black font behind its tail as it moved.

“What the fuck?”

The words escaped on an exhale, low and reflexive, her head moving away from the screen of her phone, like she might see something different than a half-living, mutant rat chasing a ball of yarn if she gave it a little distance.

She did not see something different.

The creature turned to face the camera and titled its head as it said, “Well, what’re you waitin’ for? Stop starin’ and come on in.” The accent was absurd, something from a community theater production about a chimney sweep in Whitestone, and Imogen huffed a laugh, torn between revulsion and amusement.

And then the camera zoomed out and faded to black, opening again on a woman—Laudna, she assumed—sitting in a worn, ornate rocking chair that looked as though it could’ve been pulled from a few centuries back. Its occupant might’ve come with it. She was all delicate, high cheekbones and big, dark eyes. The tilt of her head and the cut of her jawline, the way her hands moved effusively and still somehow gracefully with her words, which were, themselves, lilted out in a distinctive accent (Whitestone, she thought, but about as far from Pate’s overexaggerated growl as possible)–all of it was classic and classically feminine, a match to her chair and the lace of her high collar.

“Hello, there. Welcome to Crafting Creatures. I’m Laudna and…” Her hand disappeared for a moment over the side of her chair and when it appeared again, it was maneuvering the wooden sticks of a puppet, a familiar and horrifying rat thing coming to sit on its hind paws (Haunches? Her rat anatomy was lacking.). “You’ve already met Pate.”

The rat took a bow, tiny front paws dipping low as its body tilted. “‘Ello. Pate de Rolo at your seeervice.”

Laudna made a small effort to hide the movement of her mouth but seemed much more concerned with Pate’s movements, and, Imogen imagined, maintaining that fucking accent. She was smiling, really smiling, as Laudna drawled, voice unnaturally low, “What’re we up to t’day, boss?”

Laudna’s eyes met the camera directly again, and in her own voice, she offered, body moving side to side very slightly in what might’ve been anxiety but which seemed much more like irrepressible delight, “Well, I thought we’d make some acorn dolls.”

The screen shifted to a list of materials, ones that had also been posted in the description, Imogen noticed, and Laudna read them and then said, easily, “And if you don’t have these, don’t worry! You can pause here to go find some acorns or draw the dolls on paper or just imagine on your own!”

The screen shifted again and Laudna tapped a long, bony finger against her temple, black nail a stark contrast to her pale skin.

“Remember, your mind is a wonderful thing. It can take you wherever you’d like to go. And anytime you’d like! So, today, if you’d like to make dolls the same way that Pate and I will or differently than we will—with shells or pen and paper or in your fantastic imagination—please do! We’re excited to make something with you.”

“Enough talkin’,” Pate said, dancing across Laudna’s lap to perch on an arm of the chair and stare at the camera with the black holes where its eyes should be. “Let’s get to it.”

Imogen followed along as Laudna and Pate decorated their acorns—faces with various expressions, pants and skirts and dresses of every color—and then stacked them together to form little dolls. The camera shifted occasionally, shots from above of the decoration and process, Pate’s little claw making an appearance every now and again, and wider shots of the small table where they worked.

She tuned out after a few minutes, caught in watching Laudna. Her mannerisms and tone and vocabulary all made Imogen feel like she might be watching one of the classic movies her math teacher had loved so much, one well-worn copy or another in the old VHS player on an afternoon close to a holiday break.

It took her a few minutes to notice, because Laudna was incredibly charming and incredibly gorgeous and because, relatedly, Imogen was incredibly gay, but there was something different about Laudna, something that made Imogen’s brain whisper, Look again, although she hadn’t, from the moment Laudna appeared on screen, considered looking away.

She was alluring in the same way all of those actresses had been to (equally incredibly gay) teenage Imogen, undeniably beautiful and out of her time.

But unlike the lead in An Evening in Whitestone, there was something just slightly too much about Laudna. Her skin was too pale, too thin, her eyes too wide and too dark, her hands moved just this side of too quickly, closer, upon examination, to anxious than ethereal. The smile stretched too far across her face and the features were too sharp, sliding from delicate to the kind of worrying thinness that warned of illness.

It didn’t make her less gorgeous. Not to Imogen, anyway, who appreciated unique features and who, with her own scars climbing from her fingers to her sternum, liked to believe that imperfect didn’t mean unattractive. (It didn’t, on other people. The opposite really. She was a sucker for a scar and a story. As for herself, well. She was trying.)

It did, though, make her different, and it made Imogen, who understood very well how differentness could shape a person, consider her (examine felt too clinical and also at least a little creepy but was probably, if she were honest with herself, the best word for what she was doing)—the way she moved, the way she dressed, the musicality of her voice, Pate. Laudna seemed so wonderfully herself, but Imogen wondered how much of the way she carried herself was meant to distract, whether Laudna had always been built for a different time, what made her want to make a children’s series with a nightmare puppet. She wanted to know her, she realized. And she might get to.

As Laudna and Pate settled back in the rocking chair and began to discuss next week’s project—some furniture for the acorn dolls—and what materials they would be using, Imogen found herself looking forward to coffee.

Laudna laughed at something Pate said, which Imogen considered, after this brief time watching, to be endearing rather than disconcerting. She took a look at the time and plugged in her phone. There was a whole playlist of these videos, and she had a whole evening of nothing.

“What do you say to a quick story, before we go?”

“Yeah! What abou’ the one with the crickets?”

“Wonderful choice. Do you know, I made some finger puppets that will work beautifully for this.” She rummaged in the basket beside the chair and emerged with a handful of small, knitted multicolored creatures. “Alright. Ready, then?”

Imogen kicked off her shoes and settled back into her bed. Ready.

[takashi-tuesday]

takashi tuesday #5 | The Moon's Farthest Point (PT.3) [1] [2] [3]

(check the end for notes)

“Rock, paper scissors!” Shiro cupped Curtis’ hand in his. “I win, again.” When Shiro took his hand back, Curtis stared at his fist, he had chosen rock and Shiro took the victory with paper. Curtis scowled at his hand like it personally plotted against him before smiling with a shrug. “Guess I’m just bad at this.” Shiro gave him an incredulous look, “You can’t be bad at rock, paper, scissors.” He pointed at him with his spork. “You can be unlucky or just.. Not that smart, but not bad.” Curtis dramatically stretched and easily slid his arm around Shiro’s shoulders. “I don’t know, there's a first for everything, isn’t there?” Finishing another spoonful of his lunch, Shiro rolled his eyes. “Yes but I don’t think you’re the first, if it’s possible.” Curtis pouted. “You’re so serious.” He was staring at him now, Shiro could feel his eyes boring into the side of his head. “And you’re so-” He shouldered his arm off. “Clingy.” Curtis frowned for a second before snorting and prodding Shiro in the side. To which he flinched violently, Curtis made another noise of humor. “Quit that.” Curtis only leaned closer. “Why? You ticklish, Shirogane?” Shiro would be lying if he said he didn’t consider shoving him off the bench, and he is an honest man.

“No, I just don’t want you poking me.” He decided to be mature but that was all thrown out the window as Curtis scoffed, and without missing a beat, reached onto his tray and stole his last cracker. Which was meant to go with the chili he was eating. Shiro reached for his hand, grabbing his wrist before he could eat it. Curtis recognized the challenge and they silently tugged his hand back and forth, neither speaking a word. Curtis yanked his hand back and shoved the remains of the crumbled cracker into his mouth. Shiro groaned, “For the love of-” The bell rang. Shiro groaned in irritation before collecting his tray, glaring at Curtis as he turned to dump it.

The other boy got from his seat, looking smug while he dusted his crumby hands over the trash. Shiro couldn’t help but scowl at the petty gesture. This wasn’t over. – “We can work at the Library after class to get a headstart on the material.” Shiro suggested, flipping through an especially boring textbook. Curtis’ only addition to the plan was a half hearted-groan. Shiro looked up for the book, frowning at Curtis, who was slumped over, his head resting on his folded arms.

“Are you sleeping?” Shiro flipped his textbook closed, he doubted he’d use it anymore today, his eyes were getting tired. “I’m resting my eyes.” He yawned, blinking hazily at him. Shiro resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, he was knocked out. “Did you hear what I said?” Shiro asked, crossing his arms. Curtis’ eyes fluttered closed against briefly, he exhaled tiredly before forcing himself upright. “Do you want an honest answer or a nice one?” He murmured, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Undeniably amused, Shiro bit back a snort. He cleared his throat before hardening his expression. “How late were you up last night?” He shrugged, yawning again. His brow furrowed at the half-answer. “You’re lucky it’s Friday, you look like you’re gonna fall over.” He admitted, moving to collect his papers into a neat stack. “I asked if you wanted to meet at the Library after class so we can go ahead and get started on our research.” He repeated, lifting his bag into his lap to store his supplies. Curtis seemed to mull over it for a second. “Today?” He asked through a third yawn. “Yeah, when else?” He finished zipping his back closed and slung the strap over his shoulder, giving Curtis a bemused look. “No time like the present I guess, I have to text my grandma though.” Shiro didn’t ask why but he’s assuming his face gave away his curiosity because Curtis continued.

“I have track after school.” He explained, Shiro made an ‘o’ with his mouth. “We can pick a different time, don’t wanna disrupt your uh, grind or whatever.” He smiled, Curtis snorted at him. “Grind?” He asked from behind his hand. Doubling down, Shiro crossed his arms. “Yes.” The bluntness must’ve been amusing because the other boy burst out laughing, which earned him a look from the substitute. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ve been looking for a reason to skip it anyway.” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. Shiro wanted to say more but decided he’d say something if it really bothered him that much. “Alright, let me know if you change your mind.” Shiro said in finality, just barely missing the look Curtis was giving him. “What?” Curtis, who was leaning forward on his palm, only blinked slowly and smiled. “Nothing, just spacing out.” Shiro subconsciously rubbed the bridge of his nose, Weird. ––

This is a direct continuations of this post, I'm thinking of calling this little fic; the moon's farthest point. What do you guys think?

(As per usual, please forgive any errors, I don't have a beta and I write this stuff all on my own. Thanks for tuning in, until next week, happy Takashi Tuesday!)

[rodrigobera04]

Now the fairy type:

FAIRY pure

Tanuki paws the ground to create magic.

Drop of paint transforming into a magical portrait.

Moth pixie eat fabric and materialize them into "clothes" on their bodies.

Little alphanim animal releasing sugar around the environment.

Little thieving imps, making noises in houses at night.

Cradle in the shape of a horse, placing babies and rocking them to sleep.

Monster wearing masks to hide her face; has varieties with different masks.

Fairy using long objects like wands, varying by habitat.

Festive fairy with blow toy nose that makes a funny noise.

FAIRY/ FIRE

Cartoonish sun that makes the plants grow and melts the winter snow.

Bear monster with hot fur, giving warmth to the sick and heating food.

Phoenix evolving and returning to its pre-evolution when it burns.

Cake fulfilling the wishes of those who blow out their candle.

Gingerbread man warming his surroundings like an oven.

Peaceful fire elemental cornsnake, blowing flames to hunt.

Swamp witch formed by colored gas fire.

Dolphin performing the circus act of jumping into a ring of fire.

Saci creates swirls of smoke and embers when it spins.

FAIRY/ BUG

Predatory firefly, using its light to trick volbeats into eating them.

Cockroach beneficial for eating garbage and leaving cities clean.

Dryad leaf insect, imitating leaves and attacking anyone who threatens its tree.

Hamadriad skater insect gliding on the surface of the water on tiptoe.

Beetle painted like dominoes, looking for one with similar spots to pair with.

Literal bugbear,bedbug boogeyman biting children.

Spitting insect trapping opponents in sweet resin.

Woolly aphid like a sheep, herded by ant Pokémon.

Crayfish cutting fishing nets, similar to yokai amikiri.

FAIRY/ ELECTRIC

Traveling park stuffed animal, manipulating light.

Night light fairy, its wings shine and wards off dark and ghost Pokémon.

Sprite made of colorful rays, giving light in the night sky.

Musical artist dancing in the rain and creating electrical energy.

Animal made of pixels, based on game mascots like Mario and Kirby.

Fairy furry animal, the static of its fur tickles anyone who touches it.

Deer stylized as lightning, attracting rain wherever it goes.

Kid's show mascot traveling through broadcast waves and materializing into energy.

Lemon tree fairy with thorns and a sour taste to avoid being preyed upon.

FAIRY/FIGHTING

Sumo fighter mascot, crushing his opponent.

Ballerina gazelle with sharp hooves, hurting its predator with elegance.

Fairy fish protecting lake fauna from fishermen.

Camouflaged gnome protecting forests from lumberjacks;counterpart of the fish fairy.

Jester monkey using sticks to perform his comedic shows.

Pixie with large hands to throw punches, in contrast to her elusiveness and lightness.

Two-headed monster with heads like cheerleader pompoms, doing dance moves.

Superhero fairy made of sweets, homage to Anpanman.

Colorful Yaksha, protector of mountains, seeking adversaries.

FAIRY/ STEEL

Nymph of a wishing fountain, decorated with coins thrown into the water.

Angelic bells tolling and warding off evil spirits.

Kobold covered in cobalt, rivaling miners in mines.

Metallic fairy looking like a necklace, hanging from its chain arms.

Metal hag, tearing the victim with knife-sharp nails.

Sweet soda fairy, inside a can, able to gush out like a jet.

Horseshoe magnet attracting good vibrations and luck with its mythical magnetism.

Bird with a flute beak creating little birds like a sound when it blows.

Wind-up toy, its real body is the key that moves the metallic body of different appearances.

FAIRY/ FLYING

Flying being modeling clouds into animal shapes.

Downy sylph carrying seeds and pollen on its body by the wind.

Dove doing magic tricks, like taking handkerchiefs from his chest.

Animal with bee wings and bear face, pollinator.

Flying cow being carried by the wind, like in the movies.

Glider gecko, looking like a paper cutout.

Creature like a mermaid with a magical voice and wings like hair.

Airy and songful spirit of the gardens, mixing insects and birds.

Nest-shaped winged creature with three small avinoids inside.

FAIRY/ ICE

Serow making his way through the snow with his long legs.

Ice jar with berry juice inside that cures burn status.

Polar mermaid with a seal coat, like a selkie.

Mangalitsa pig with its fur forming an elegant snowy coat.

Snow angel, a snow being with icy wings, but cannot fly.

Melted ice cream slug launching its shell cone like a harpoon.

Floral fairy that blooms in spring after being covered with snow.

Little critter looking like a rabbit with long ears worn like a scarf.

Troll with no mouth, just an ice stalactite for its nose, sneezing in blizzard winds.

FAIRY/ WATER

Reef fish making corals with their almost inaudible sounds.

Magical water bird, capable of changing its shape; confused with Nessie.

Kissing frog, believing that he will evolve into a prince like that.

Kaiju with a waterfall on its back that creates laminated rainbows.

Aquatic animal filling with water and bursting like a balloon.

Archer fish looking like a water gun.

Ondine creating bubbles to purify polluted water.

Sea lilies flying across the surface of the water, dancing in the sea current.

Gardener mole splashing water through its nose like a watering can.

FAIRY/ ROCK

Fairy holding a lollipop-shaped stone.

Friendly Anurognathus took care of dinosaurs by eating parasites.

Marble nymph watching over and preserving gardens.

Cave knocker with eyes like lanterns and bat ears.

Candy/porcelain crab with a colorful rocky shell.

Predatory troll disguised by day as a garden gnome.

Sea snail collecting various colorful shells that are glued to its adhesive body.

Brontosaurid like animal with a long neck, wearing magical collars.

Lion dog imitating statues, aggressive when its home is invaded.

FAIRY/ GROUND

Mole lizard colored like a gummy worm.

Venus of Willendorf gnome made from fertile clay.

Desert rose, made of shiny sand.

Yokai broom spreading dust but cleaning curses, based on hahakigami.

Turtle with a fairy circle on its shell.

Craftsman pokémon hiding inside an animal-shaped jar he built.

Imp with different shaped feet, creating strange and confusing footprints.

Mud creature attracting prey, like a mud mermaid.

Magical starfish, creating bodies made of sand.

FAIRY/ NORMAL

Witch's familiar, looking like a strange animal.

Colorful creature, made of several toys grouped together.

Gnomes with long beards, even females.

Fairy with antennas in the shape of a musical note, making noises like a cricket.

Creature making scribbles with its claws like colored pencils.

Hairy, horned creature, a dancer appearing at seasonal festivals.

Armadillo used in games involving balls,made of rubber.

Furry little critter, its dense fur hides objects and cushions impacts.

Monotreme monster, caring for orphaned eggs and chicks.

FAIRY/GRASS

Cocoa cut like a mug, with hot chocolate inside.

Little elf building a castle made of mushrooms.

Alraune with a root tail, like a mermaid, singing.

Marsupial guarding seedlings, seeds and flowers in its marsupium.

Fairy lantern stealing energy from roots to fuel its bioluminescence.

Lily of the valley making bell or harp noises with its musical flowers.

Colorful corn releasing its kernels that explode like popcorn.

wooden trunk with wooden ears like literal ears, listening to the flora.

#THE FINAL FAIRY MYTHICAL:

Quill pen fairy, fairy/normal, using her ink to tell stories and change the course of reality.

We're done for now.

[popculturelib]

Fanzine Friday #8: But a Paper Dress no. 3 (1990s) by an unknown author.

We don't have many fanzines that talk about Barbie; in fact, we could only find this one issue. But a Paper Dress (BPD) is a zine that talks about quite a few things, most of them related to punk rock and music. But there are two pages sharing what people think about Barbie as a cultural phenomenon -- though they're a bit of a different take on Barbie than what we've seen earlier this week. What do you think about Barbie (and Ken)?

Transcripts below the read more.

The Browne Popular Culture Library (BPCL), founded in 1969, is the most comprehensive archive of its kind in the United States.  Our focus and mission is to acquire and preserve research materials on American Popular Culture (post 1876) for curricular and research use. Visit our website at https://www.bgsu.edu/library/pcl.html.

Text from the cover, read top to bottom:

Interviews with:

Mark Amft from Drink Me

Chocolate USA

R. Seth Friedman of FACTSHEETS

And Julie Ann Klausner?

Barbie: The quintessential icon of popular culture, or just another prick tease?

Eat My Shit, MTV boy

The Lost Art of Female Masturbation: A "How-To" guide of sorts

[around the central figure's halo] Sing a Song of Loyalty / Wearing But a Paper Dress - Brian P. De[illegible]

John Henry. Pleased to meet you.

Welcome to the mesmerising queasiness of our brother zine, The Strobetongue Files

And more BPD punk rock rubbish

live from the bowls of Hell! Special Monkees Issue

Text from the pages about Barbie, titled "Cowgirl on Wednesday"

Speculations on Sexist America's favorite pop icon. Names have been omitted for reasons of anonymity. [heart]

As a little girl I used to stand in front of my mirror naked, and compare Barbie's body to my own. I would compare our breasts, hips, tummy, and how far apart our thighs were. I would evaluate how I could change to look more like Her.

If you've ever taken off a Barbie Doll's hear you'd have seen a freakishly long neck, and at the top a kind of tan saucer connected to the body by a plastic ball. The saucer is mobile, and the ball will swivel around its "axis" so that Barbie will be able to move her pretty head to look up at the sky, over her shoulder to smile at something behind her, or just to nod. My friend Chris collects Barbie Doll heads, but I find the saucer-ball part much more fascinating. Keep in mind that without this golden choking hazard, Barbie's head would have to have to be secured in place only by being shoved down directly above her shoulders. This technique tends to make the doll resemble Barbie's heavier and less attractive cousin, White Trash Skipper. (Trailer Park and rifle sold separately)

I used to love Barbie dolls when I was little. I would imagine going to huge parties with my best friend Barbie by my side, and how we would make our grand entrance in extravagant pink gowns. Come to think of it, and the time she was my only friend...

When you lift up a Barbie Doll's arm you can see that her armpit is like a 3 dimensional sphere. I thought armpits were supposed to be concave.

[next page]

When I first heard about that GI Joe/Barbie voice box mix-up on television I thought I was going to split a side. What a great prank!

Maxie. Maxie could never wear Barbie's clothes. She could fit into them all right but she couldn't fill them out properly - especially with those straight arms. Man, Barbie could wear lime green spandex like no one else.

I remember that Ken's genitalia consisted of either flesh-colored briefs or a vague, androgynous "hump" kind of a shape that may have suggested a sort of phallus to the girls that cared. (myself included)

Every Barbie doll looks completely different - and it's not just the hairstyle or eye color either. I know they're made from cookie cutters, but I could never get rid of the feeling that each doll had an entirely unique identity. And I didn't name any of them "Barbie."

Barbie never menstruated. Barbie looks great under fluorescent lighting, and thin when she wears horizontal stripes. Barbie could be a rocket scientist on Tuesday, a [illegible] on Wednesday, a nurse on Thursday, Miss America on Friday, and still have time to run with the Rockers in time for their huge gig this weekend. Barbie's parents made sure to properly bind her feet when she was young so she looks very chic, but can't really wear shoes without scotch tape at hand. Barbie never fucked. (she hated sex) Barbie never ate despite her constant cooking. Barbie has never seen a corpse or a book or a cigarette or a vagina. Barbie's legs feel different from her torso.

Sideways text in the upper right corner: "If you or someone you know is interested in this subject, do not hesitate to order Barbara's divine fanzine, Hey There, Barbie Girl! for 2 dollars from HTBG! PO Box 819 Peter Stuyvesant Station, NYC 10009. Not only does she know the guys from Ms. Lun, but she's a peach of a zine editor as well."

[splendidissimus]

2001ish - Cycle

((Content warning: none))

Genre: general

Romance level: minor

Angst level: 2/5

Draco's headspace: reflective

((words: ~1100))

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

Draco looked up when Theo entered the room. He had papers and books spread out in front of him on the table, sofa, and chairs, taking over the entire parlour in research materials. "My grandfather was a Death Eater," he announced.

"Okay," Theo said as he sat down with the beer the house elf silently provided. "The first Minister was a Hufflepuff." 

Draco shook his head sharply. This was huge, he just wasn't explaining himself properly. "No, I mean, my father's father was a Death Eater. Look at these dates." He pushed a paper up on the table.

Theo groaned as he levered himself back up and came to sit on the arm of Draco's chair so he could see. "What am I looking at?" Draco had made some sort of complicated chart that he didn't feel like deciphering, with a bunch of bars starting and ending at random across the page and labelled lines crossing various sets of them. 

"This is the important part." He folded the paper to isolate a section around the second third where he had drawn a line straight down through all the other bars. "1970, when Voldemort returned to the country and started his campaign, my father was sixteen or seventeen — I don't have an exact date. His father was a very influential man who had already been secretly embarked on an anti-Muggleborn agenda," he briefly pointed out a line crossing one of the upper bars on the page, marked 1968, which Theo dredged from his memory had something to do with the first Muggleborn Minister for Magic. Ousted from office or something. "These people," he tapped the 1968 mark, "that's where he already had a base of support, organised enough to carry out their own conspiracy, just waiting to be tapped into. You get your message into the school to recruit soldiers and high-spirited lackeys who aren't going to think too hard about it when you tell them to go sow chaos, but for actual support, for a network of influence and control? You recruit these people." 

It all made a lot of sense, but Theo shrugged a little bit. "Well, congratulations, I guess? You successfully proved that a twentieth-century Malfoy was most likely a Death Eater?" 

"Not just a Death Eater. One of the originals, one of the forces behind his reign of terror." 

He clapped Draco on the shoulder, firmly enough to rock him a little bit. "Welcome to the club." Considering his own father had been one of Voldemort's old school mates… "Which you were already a member of, because you already knew your father was basically his right hand, so…"

"By the end of the war — after his father had already died. At the beginning, he was just a student with too much pride and a family with too many wrong ideas, who got this," he turned his left arm, "when he was seventeen or eighteen because his father was in with Voldemort. You see? It's a cycle. The same thing just keeps happening over again." 

"I think that's a stretch."

"It isn't."

"There is a pretty big difference between you," Theo pointed out, draping his arm over Draco's shoulders. "You didn't want to be there."

"You are giving me leagues more credit than I deserve," Draco said flatly. "Firstly, it took me almost two months to 'not want to be there', or at least admit it. You saw me at the beginning of that term, I was…" He shook his head. "Secondly, how long have you known me? You know I'm not exactly a wizard of naturally strong moral fibre. If Voldemort had been only infinitesimally less evil — if he had never threatened my mother and made me live in fear, even if he treated my father exactly the same — I would have actually been one. I might never have been the most enthusiastic killer, but I would have felt very powerful and important telling Crabbe and Goyle to do it. As long as the terror never turned against me, I would have made myself a nice little niche perpetuating it with, oh, probably the Imperius, and gotten progressively better at not thinking about any of it." 

"After everything you know, do you really think that's true?"

"I know it." Draco leaned back, trapping Theo's arm in the seat, and summoned his glass of wine to hand. "I've had a taste of being truly feared. It's… intoxicating. Especially after you've felt helpless." He paused pensively, looking at nothing as he considered the old memory of people fleeing from him as he cursed Blaise after suffering too many bouts of detention at his hand. Now it had a little patina of shame over it, but at the time… "But it's not sustainable. I would have known the first and not the second, and ridden that to my inevitably pathetic death." 

"Thank Merlin Voldemort was so evil, then." 

"And that's a new record for most awkward thing I've ever heard someone say. Do you practise?" 

"Yes, every night before I go to sleep." He ran his fingers through Draco's hair. 

Draco looked distantly toward the table with his research on it, twirling his wine more than drinking it, for several minutes. "Why are we trapped in these cycles?" he finally murmured. 

"We aren't. You became a halfway decent person. If my family had a theme, I guess it would be proud poverty and sycophantry, and I'm not living that."

"Not of our own accord." He glanced at Theo. "Well, you're you, so you probably didn't need any help. But it seems like people who are more normal can't get out of these roles without extreme outside interference. It's like we're doomed." 

Theo ran his fingers back through Draco's hair again. "How long has it been since you slept?" 

Draco raised two fingers without taking his attention off of his musings. 

"I thought so; you're getting broody. Sleep tonight, all right?"

He nodded without commentary, and Theo kissed the side of his head. 

He knew that Theo wasn't really the right audience for this; he genuinely had no appreciation for history, society, family… any of these things. It wasn't meaningful to him. But Draco couldn't get it out of his head, and Theo at least indulged him by listening, even if he didn't appreciate it. It was nice of him.

He'd write it out, he decided. Use Theo as a sounding board as much as he let him, and get his thoughts together on paper. Maybe it was the lack-of-sleep high talking, but it felt like an important truth.

[official-megumin]

Okay, here are my questions about your world?

Do cat people exist in your world? Are they more “human with cat traits” or more “cat with human traits”? And if you use a magnifying glass or mirror and some sunlight to make a medieval version of a laser pointer will they chase it?

Is there a way for non-mages to counter or defend against magic?

Are firearms the only ranged weapons people use? Are there still people who use weapons like bows, crossbows, slings, etc? Are these localised to particular individuals or do some nations still make use of them in their army in some capacity?

Do werebeasts exist in your world? How does stuff like lycanthropy work?

Are there any fantastical metals? Like adamantium or mithryl?

How common are pre-rip ruins? Do they exist at all?

How advanced are they when it comes to firearms in this setting? Do they only have simple muzzle loading muskets or have they started to use more complicated techniques like breech loading or cartridges?

Have people managed to travel across the ocean to different continents yet? Or is there a need to cross the ocean to get to different continents? Like is the world one massive Pangea like landmass?

I may come up with more at some point.

I have not given much thought to races yet, not outside of those I have mentioned before such as goblins, humans, dwarves and elves. So I don't know if there are cat people.

whilst most elves have some connection to magic, it's actually not as powerful as you'd think. Like Pyra for example can only really do fairly basic fireballs and ignite things with her hands. She also exclusively knows fire spells. Magic also tends to be very elemental, so fire, ice, water and etcetera, so no super powerful spells or protection that would require specific counters.

Firearms as we know them today do not really exist. The people of this world got stuck on flintlock and similar weapons that they've then improved fixing some of the fire rate problems. That being said bows and crossbows are still in use even though they're not as common as fire arms as they don't do as much damage.

I once again have not given much thought to the existence of lycanthropy as I've mostly been focusing on the more personal level of the world with a few set characters(only one of which have any significant development). That being said, lycanthropy would probably exist and be connected to the merging of dimensions. This means that transformations would occur when some people are different species between dimensions and said dimensions battle over dominance in real space.

I would think there are mostly just metals like in the real world. But I also think there are some materials with abilities you don't see in the real world. Like crystals actually having special powers sometimes. Other times they're just fancy rocks tho.

depending on where you are, pre-rip ruins are quite common. They might not look like ruins tho as they have been warped by spacetime leaving them often look almost organic in shape. Of course inside the nordic tear itself, there are countless ruins sometimes even having still functional tech from before the rip. Be careful with that tho as there might be mosters lurking in the shadows.

I explained this one earlier, so mostly breachloading weapons with very primitive cartridges made of paper or similar materials.

There aren't really any big oceans in the world, only big lakes. However, these lakes open up wider as you go deeper into them often revealing huge ruined cities underneath some of which are still inhabited by merpeople.

[mysticfoxdesigns]

Hehehe get ready cause these are canon in Cyberaligned.

Mrs. Burns

I for one am subscribed to the dead mom theory, purely cause I can see one of the kids, Kade, punching someone cause of a dead mom joke. Now how did she die?

She was a scientist, working in the lab along side the Greenes and Dr. Morocco. Due to how Dr. Morocco worked, he was very reckless. The three other scientist were hesitant, but Dr. Morocco was the lead scientist, and they couldn't question or do much.

One day, while Ezra Greene was at home caring for Frankie who was sick at the time, an experiment went wrong. A robot malfunctioned, which was normal, however it knocked over a burner. A lit burner. That burner mixed with a flammable gas nearby, causing an explosion of fire. Papers, fabric, wood, other chemicals, all caught on fire, with it rapidly spreading through the lab. The two women were trapped, unable to reach the fire safety equipment. Dr. Morocco, seeing what was happening, simply turned and escaped the building.

The rescue units on call at that time were too late to reach the lab in time. That day was the most devastating day the island had in decades. Both Ezra and Charlie were distraught at their wifes' death. Kade, Dani, and Graham vowed that day to become rescue workers, to not allow what happened to their mom to happen ever again on Griffin Rock. Dr. Morocco, although he had already disappeared, was fired from his job, and Ezra was made the lead scientist.

Protectobot Blades

Rescue Force Sigma 17 wasn't always Blade's team. Originally, he was apart of Rescue Force Alpha 1, better known to the Academy as the Protectobots. The original Rescue team, where he was their fighter and helicopter. But how did Blades get moved to Sigma 17 as an anxious medic with a ground mode? A team that specialized in deep space rescues? He wouldn't have any reason to leave his Gestalt. So what happened?

Tagan Heights happened. Now while the Rescue Bots were a true neutral in the war, after Megatron considered Rescue City and it's inhabitants to be enemies of the Decepticons because they would help Autobot forces. In fear of an attack on the civilian state, Optimus Prime appointed the Protectobot's to be Autobots. This allowed them to protect the city and their students.

As for what happened at Tagan Heights, the Protectobots fell during their battle with Devastator as Defensor. The only bot who survived from the combiner was Blades, who's last memory was falling to the ground from his position as the right arm.

When Blade's onlined again in the Iacon hospital, he was instantly greeted with a heavy spark. The splitting of the Gestalt bond nearly offlined him if Ratchet hadn't put him into stasis. Once he was pulled from stasis, his frame had been changed. The old one was too damaged to be of continued use, and due to the scarcity of materials, his frame was remade to include ground mode capabilities. His memories of before the fight were hazy, all he could remember was fuzzy memories with his Gestalt, and the crash to the ground.

The rest of the Alpha forces decided to place him with a different team, at least until a medic could reinstall his memories. Ratchet could do it, but the war took up his time. He gave Blades a drive, telling him to hold onto it until they were able to meet again. Blades was soon accepted into Sigma 17 by Heatwave, who took up the Alpha team's request for any force to take in Blades.

After that, was their mission into deep space, where they would soon be forced into stasis for 10 million years.

Cody's Self Image

Growing up, all Cody knew of his family was their rescue work. His earliest memories included Kade taking care of him, all while doing his firefighter homework. Dani was the same, researching how to be an EMT so that she could begin training when she was old enough.

Cody grew up with his family being the heroes. Not him.

Kids at school constantly picked at this insecurity he had. It didn't help when adults around him reinforced these ideas. This is why whenever he had a chance, he tried to be the hero. Even if it could almost kill him. His family constantly scolded him for trying to get involved, even after the Rescue Bot arrived.

As he became a teenager, his family's perception seemed to change. Each of his siblings seemed to be trying to pull him into their foot steps. This only made him more distraught, unable to cope with the sudden expectations put on him.

Why couldn't he just find his own path?

The Rescue Bots Were My Way Out

Both Boulder and Heatwave were forged into the lower caste levels of Cybertron. Boulder was construction class, placing him lower middle caste. Heatwave was a miner, putting him in the lowest level of the lower caste. Both were barred from an education of their choosing.

The only schooling Boulder received was something related to his caste, that being engineering. He wished to learn outside of his caste, but construction bots were too "stupid" to learn anything but construction related material. Medicine, Science, History, Art, were all barred from his caste.

Heatwave received no formal education in his early years. He learned how to spell and read basic words in secret, but as a miner, education was useless for his caste.

Boulder first learned about Rescue City when he was 11 million, from his brother's friend Wheeljack. Both Bulkhead and Wheeljack were Wreckers, and as the war was ramping up more, the two older mechs worried about Boulder's safety. The two mechs knew the administration of the Rescue Bots Academy in Rescue City, the Protectobots. With them recently joining the war, the two mechs felt it would be safer for Boulder to live in Rescue City. Together the two mechs helped to get him out of Kaon and to Rescue City, where the caste system was non-existent. There, Boulder was able to begin training, gaining a safe place in the war ridden planet.

Heatwave's ticket to Rescue City was a lot more rocky. By the time he was 13 million, he had been passed to several different mine owners. His last one had him in an open air mine, near the smelters. An accident happened, offlining several mechs and injuring more. Rescue Force Omega 6 arrived, the large team able to help pull mechs out of the damaged areas. Heatwave was among the several pulled from the wreckage. Watching the firebot that lead the team, he knew that was what he wanted to do. When no one was looking, Heatwave snuck aboard the Omega's ship, hiding out in storage.

He was able to make it to Rescue City, where after some modifications, he became a firebot and soon became the leader of Rescue Force Sigma 17.

~~~~~~~

God that was a lot, but enjoy

The most angsty Transformers Rescue Bots headcanon you guys could ever come up with?

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Gifts Them a Handmade Bracelet

Lucifer

“Luci, I made you something for fun but I’m not sure whether you’ll like it or not.”

He looked up from the stack of papers on his desk he was trying to get through. “As long as it’s not another bill like the one Mammon just racked up, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is. Especially if it’s something you made.”

Blushing, you got up from your chair and quickly slipped the item onto Lucifer’s wrist.

He looked down to see a bracelet made out of elastic and chunky plastic beads. Among the red and black ones, the words “My Light” were spelled out.

“That’s just the way I feel about you sometimes. Whenever it seems like there’s nothing but darkness around me, you’re always there to guide me toward the light, toward better and happier times. You’ve saved me so many times.”

You looked at the bracelet on his wrist and suddenly felt self-conscious at how cheap it looked against the elegance of his RAD uniform. Lucifer seemed to be frozen in shock as well; he sat at his desk silent and unmoving.

“If...If you want I can take it back! Sorry, I just thought-”

Your sentence was interrupted by the full force of Lucifer crushing you into a hug. He tucked your head underneath his chin and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I love it. I love you. You make my every day brighter by being with me. I can’t express how much I care-” He cut himself off, feeling his throat tighten with sudden emotion.

You hugged him back just as tightly. “Love you always, my light.”

Mammon

You were cuddling together on the couch, watching a movie. Mammon had his arms around you, one hand holding yours and the other tracing patterns on your thigh.

With your free hand you reached into your pocket to pull out the bracelet you had made earlier in the day. Bright yellow smiley face beads surrounded the word "Priceless".

"What's that babe?"

"I made it for you! Sorry it's not super fancy or anything. But I saw these beads today at the craft store and they reminded me of you. You make me smile all the time because you're such a goober."

Mammon grinned and acted mock-offended. "Hey! Is that any way to treat your first man?"

You continued, "And also, you're priceless to me Mammon. You know that right? I wouldn't trade you for anything. Not even all the Grimm in the world. You make me feel so happy and loved."

You heard Mammon's sudden intake of breath. "Y-You really have no problem saying such embarrassing things, huh." His ears and cheeks were bright red.

You thought that was the end of the conversation but a few minutes later you heard Mammon whispering into your hair. "My treasure, I love ya so much. What did I ever do to deserve ya."

"You deserve to be happy Mammon, you deserve all the good in the world. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently. I love you."

Leviathan

You were in his room, him playing a game and you putting the finishing touches on the bracelet you were making. Shiny blue beads with wave patterns on them surrounded the words “My Rock”. 

Quietly, so you wouldn’t interrupt his game, you placed the finished bracelet on his desk and moved to sit back down in your chair. Suddenly, his arm shot out to grab your wrist. He had paused his game and slid his headset slightly aside to ask: “MC, what is this?”

“Oh, I finished making this for you. Y-You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it! But... I just wanted to give you a small present.”

Hand still holding your wrist, Levi wordlessly picked up the bracelet and examined it in the light. 

“Um... you know how my favorite animal is the otter? Well otters sometimes have a favorite rock that they keep in their pocket. And you’re my favorite, you know? Also you’re my rock because you keep me grounded a lot. Like when I get all anxious and stressed out you help calm me down. Whether it’s just cuddling or playing a game together, being with you is so peaceful.”

As you continued to ramble nervously, Levi’s cheeks began to grow redder and redder. “You really made this for me? This isn’t like a pity gift is it? Are you sure you want to give this to a-an otaku like me?”

You sighed and moved to wrap your arms around his neck. “Levi, you know I would never gift you something because I ‘pity you’. And also, I don’t understand what being an otaku has to do with anything. I’m giving you this because I love you, all parts of you.”

Levi looked at the bracelet for a moment longer before quickly slipping it onto his wrist. “I-I really like it. Thanks, MC.” He seemed to be gathering up his courage for something and letting out a deep breath he turned around to give you a quick kiss.

“S-Sorry! Sorry, I just... I’ve never received anything like this. I like you a lot, you know?”

You returned his kiss with one of your own. “I know.”

Satan

You had finished a light lunch together and now were browsing Satan’s favorite bookstore. He was looking at the history section while you were pretending to look at the bookmarks, gathering up your courage to give him his gift.

You were worried a bit that he wouldn’t like it. The bracelet itself was made out of inexpensive materials, emerald color beads and beads that spelled out “Beloved”. It didn’t seem like the type of thing Satan would wear.

He interrupted your thoughts with a tap on your shoulder. “Everything okay, MC?”

“Yeah, I was just...” With a sigh you held out the bracelet to him, there was really no point in stalling. “I made this for you. I understand if it’s not really your thing but just know the message is genuine.”

He pinched the bracelet between two fingers and began to examine it. "Beloved, huh?” His lips were quirked in a smug smile.

“Don’t tease me. But y-yeah, you’re my beloved. I never thought I’d meet someone like you here, you know? You feel like you fit right against my heart, like you’re my soulmate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

All of the amusement was wiped off of Satan’s face and his eyes seemed to burn into you, the way he was staring at you. He deliberately rolled up the cuff of his RAD uniform slowly and made sure you were watching as he put on the bracelet, turning it this way and that to examine it. 

“It’s a good thing you don’t have to think about that, pet. Because trust me when I say that I’m never going to leave you. You’re stuck with me forever.”

With a wet laugh you rushed to hug him, burying your face into his chest. “That doesn’t sound bad to me at all.”

Asmodeus

You were in Asmo’s room, helping him paint his nails. His left hand was already finished and you watched him blow on the nails, trying to dry them. He held out his other hand for you and you pretended to fiddle with the nail polish before quickly slipping on the bracelet you had made for him earlier.

“MC, what is this?” Asmo looked at the bracelet, soft pink heart-shaped crystals surrounded beads that spelled out “Jewel Of My Heart”.

“Well, I know it’s nothing much compared to the jewelry you already have” you said, nodding toward Asmo’s vanity which held a variety of sparkling necklaces and earrings. “But I wanted to give you something handmade.”

“Oh, it’s so cute darling! I love it!” Asmo pulled out his cellphone and started trying to take pictures of his wrist from different angles. “Can you help me, MC? My nails are still a bit wet and I don’t want to ruin them. But I also want to post a picture to Devilgram immediately!”

You chuckled and took Asmo’s phone from him, trying to move his wrist to get it in frame. 

“I know you’re not the Jewel of the Heavens anymore. But I think of you as the jewel to my heart. You’re beautiful, Asmo. Not just the way you look but the way you’re able to find beauty in everything. Even in me, no matter how terrible I feel sometimes.”

Asmo had gone silent and you looked up to see him biting his lips, his eyes widened. “MC, that’s cheating. You can’t say things like that when I can’t even give you a proper hug right now. Ugh, you’re too adorable.”

Smiling, you held up his hand and pressed a gentle kiss against it. Asmo inhaled sharply.

“Darling, I think we can finish the other hand at a later time. Right now, there are other pressing matters I’d like to get to.” Asmo’s eyes had turned lustful and he quickly scooped you up and led you toward his bed.

Beelzebub

You were in the kitchen together, Beel helping you test a new pie recipe. Well, he was doing more eating than testing, letting out small whines until you gave in and fed him spoonfuls of fruit filling. 

It was warm and peaceful, the smell of sugar and vanilla in the air as you mixed a pot on the stove and Beel leaned against the countertop.

“Oh Beel, before I forget.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a bracelet made up of small orange beads and plastic teddy bear-shaped beads. In the middle were the words “My Strength”.

You helped him slide it on his wrist and smiled at his confused look. “I made this for you today. I saw these beads and thought instantly of you, ‘cause I always call you my giant teddy bear.” For emphasis you gave him a hug and laughed at how small you felt in his arms.

“And also, I think of you as my strength. You’re super strong, yeah, but not just physically. You’ve always been there for me, whenever I felt down or scared or sad. You give me strength when I need it most. And I hope that I can lend you some of my strength too for whenever you need it.”

As Beel looked down at the bracelet, a slow smile spread across his face. “You’re cute, MC. Thank you for the gift. And you make me stronger every day by just being with me. I hope we can be together forever.”

You reached up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and he returned it with a sudden passionate one on your lips.

The two of you stood kissing for a few moments longer until you broke away from him, smelling burning sugar. “Oh god, the filling is burning! Quick, turn off the stove!”

Beel looked into the pot, which had turned from a deep red cherry color to almost black, and shrugged. “Eh, I’ll still eat it.”

Belphegor

You don’t know how long you had been napping for, but you woke up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were warm and comfortable, one of Belphie’s legs wrapped around your own and his arm across your stomach. 

Looking down at his wrist you realized it was the perfect opportunity and slipped the bracelet out from your pajama pocket. The square lilac-colored beads looked cute against his wrist and you made sure the words “My Comfort” were facing the right way up so that Belphie would spot them when he woke up. 

You thought it would have been easy to give him his gift undetected, considering how much of a deep-sleeper he was, but at your movement Belphie scrunched up his nose and slowly opened his eyes.

“MC?” His voice was bleary from sleep. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing babe, go back to sleep.” He nodded and turned to face the other way but must have felt the beads pressing into his wrist. Confused he lifted his arm up and squinted at the bracelet. “What is this?”

You sighed, a bit nervous at how he would react. “I made it for you. It’s nothing fancy but I’ve been wanting to give you something for a while now. Something to remind you of me.”

He ran his fingers along the beads and mouthed the words “My Comfort”.

“That’s what you are to me. Comfort. When the world is too loud and my thoughts are too jumbled, you help make things quiet. You’re like a warm blanket that can muffle out the bad and the scary. I just hope that you’re as comfortable with me as I am with you.”

He remained silent for a while, rolling one of the beads between his fingers. Finally, he moved to bring your wrist to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on the inside of your wrist and then the center of your palm.

“I never thought I would get to have this, you know. A kind of love like this.” He rolled over so that you were face to face and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t ever leave me, okay?”

[linorachas]

sunday's best. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x reader ⁍ genre — fluff and smut ⁍ word count — 11.2k words ⁍ details — established relationship, domesticity, producer!chan, choreographer!reader, lots of cuddles and kissing (again), you're both really in love (again), hard smut | details under the cut ⁍ notes — part 2 of for the weekend is here! thank you so much to everyone who supported part 1 and asked for more. it gave me so much motivation to start and finish this one and i maaay have gotten a little bit carried away considering it's almost triple the size. and the smut... yea.... this could be read as a one-shot, but there’s a lot of elements from pt. 1 that i referenced in here, so please check that one out first! and also please please lmk if you enjoyed! ♥️  ⁍ summary —  Day 2. Holding up your end of the deal, strawberry ice cream, and Ugly Cat bowls.

⁍ smut specifics — dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, one mention of the word "daddy", possessiveness on chan’s part (but not the asshole kind), a smidge of oral (f. receiving), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, choking (but not really? just hand on throat), reader talks about liking the pain a lot, dry humping, slightest bit of cum play ⁍ little side note — please practice safe sex u guys. wrap it up. these guys are not good role models at all. be safe. also always pee after sex. plz. also this isn't proofread god bless

Saturday, 3:20 pm

“Time to fulfill my part of the deal so we can get on with yours.”

You hold your breath, stunned at the determination in Chan’s eyes. You’re distracted at the way his lips curl and at how his dimples pop out, your eyes following the line of his broad shoulders. You eye the ridges of his arms, down to the veins in his hands, parched throat swallowing when you get to his defined abs.

God, he was sexy.

You follow his happy trail, down and down until-- ah. Right. He was still naked. In the kitchen.

Your face scrunches up comically, desire disappearing as you hop off the counter and shoo him away.

“Go get some clothes, what the hell. Do you know how unsanitary it is to be naked in here? Gross, Chan.”

Staring at you in disbelief, Chan gapes, “after you just blatantly checked me out? I saw that!”

You walk past him, rummaging through the cupboards for food. “Unless you want me to come near you with a pair of scissors close to your-”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Chan shouts, as he rushes back to the bedroom, the panic in his voice making you laugh.

You’re just starting to fill up a pot with water when arms sneak around your waist and a very clingy but now fully dressed Bang Chan nuzzles his face into your neck, humming.

“What do you want me to cook for you, baby?” He asks excitedly, ready to do anything.

You snort. “Unless you can magically conjure up some groceries, I don’t think you can cook me anything at all.”

Chan freezes at that, releasing his hold on you so he could open the refrigerator and cupboards, mouth dropping in shock when he sees that there really was no food. You’ve both been so busy this week, spending most of your meals at that company, that you both probably forgot to do mini-grocery runs.

“Though we do have like, 4 packs of ramen left and half a can of spam.” You call Chan’s attention back to you, gesturing towards the food on the counter. Chan, the big eater that he was, deflates at the sight, looking exactly like a kicked puppy.

“Aw, I know that’s not enough for you, baby.” You coo, shuffling over to Chan to pinch his cheek. It starts gentle at first, but then you put a bit of pressure, narrowing your eyes. “But if you eat more than your share, I’m biting you.”

Chan yelps, nodding rapidly as your pinch his cheek harder, “okay! Okay! I won’t steal from your share, I promise, baby- ow!”

You relent soon after, pressing a sweet kiss to Chan’s reddened cheek as he scowls at you. “Good. Now let’s get cooking, because if I don’t have food in me in the next 3 minutes I really might start biting you.”

Chan jumps out of your reach at that, and you watch him with a smile as he bustles around to prepare your food. You get a bowl each after it cooks, perfectly equal in portion size. There aren’t any words being shared as you both settle on the couch, your thighs pressed together as you slurp on your noodles, putting on a drama you were both invested in. Chan doesn’t notice when you slip your one last remaining piece of spam into his bowl, too busy berating a main character for being stupid, but he does let you finish off the soup in his bowl.

You and Chan start working on chores after that, because when you were looking for the remote control under the couch, you’re greeted with a cloud of dust, making you sneeze thrice.

Chan laughs at you, but then he’s cut off by his own sneeze too. You share one look before you’re both scrambling towards the cleaning supplies.

It takes you both hours just to clean the whole apartment and do some laundry, the sky already dark when you settle back down on the couch.

Considering you literally had no ingredients to cook with, you decide to order for dinner, and there’s a small dispute as to who has to get up to accept the food and pay the delivery man. The fight is resolved with a quick game of rock, paper, scissors; Chan winning fairly, but you still complain on your way to the door.

“We should work out,” Chan pipes up suddenly when you’re both lying on your sides on the couch, him being the little spoon. Dinner was a quick affair, and now you’re both just basking in the happiness of having a full stomach.

You make a face. “Was that not enough of a workout?” you ask, referring to your spotless apartment.

Chan snorts, turning around so his front was facing you. But he slides down, making a sound akin to purr as he buries his face in your neck. “I mean, like. Yoga. Leg day reps. Jogging?”

You groan, pinching his side. “I dance for a living. You go work out. Let me rot on this couch for tonight.”

Chan laughs at that, but doesn’t pester you about it anymore. You let him rest on your clavicle as you focus on your attention to the drama that was currently airing on the TV, slightly interested now.

You’d have thought Chan was asleep if it wasn’t for the kisses that he presses on your neck, harmless little pecks that soon have a bit of teeth in them. You lean your head back, finding the action more comforting than anything, but then Chan’s tongue suddenly darts out to lick at a spot near your jaw, and you shiver.

You sigh, but you don’t push him away. Instead, your fingers card through his hair, making Chan groan happily. He stops pestering your neck then, enjoying your fingers massaging and scratching at his scalp.

But your first mistake was thinking you were safe, because suddenly, there’s a thigh slipping in between your legs, pressing against your covered mound.

“Ah,” you moan, surprised, but Chan doesn’t do anything else after that, just lets his thigh rest there. You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “I thought you were going to work out.”

“This is my workout.” Chan whispers, and when you feel his devilish smile against your skin, you knew you were doomed.

Chan presses his thigh against your clothed pussy more insistently, making you squirm. The thin material of your panties and sleep shorts barely provided any layers between you, heightening the pleasure.

His thigh flexes, and the feeling of your clit grinding down on the hardened muscle was simply too good to ignore, and you’re humping Chan’s thigh before you could even think twice about it.

“Good girl,” Chan praises when he notices your hips gyrating, leaning up for a second to press a sweet kiss to your lips. He continues to adjust, helping you find the best position for your pleasure. “Keep rubbing that pretty pussy on me, baby, that’s it.”

You moan when a hand slides under your shirt and brushes against one of your nipples, Chan rolling the slowly hardening nub between his fingers. You feel yourself getting wet embarrassingly quick, and you knew you could cum like this. Chan has made you cum multiple times before just from clitoral stimulation alone, and dry humping was no exception to that.

You’re just about to ask if he was really going to let you cum, but then Chan pulls his thigh away, and the knot in your stomach disappears.

You groan for an entirely different reason now, upset at your orgasm being taken away from you. But Chan busies himself with tugging at your shirt until you get the idea and take it off, and he immediately latches his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking.

You suck in a breath through gritted teeth, pressing his head closer to your chest as he paid attention to both your nipples, licking and sucking and biting. You were getting uncomfortably wet now, your panties damp, and you convey this to Chan in hopes that he would speed things up.

You should have known that it would just spur him on.

“You wet for me already?” Chan asks once he stops marking your breasts, facing you with a grin.

You nod rapidly. “Yes, so if you could fuck m-”

“Ah,” Chan tuts, “let me feel first.”

You don’t even get a chance to protest because Chan’s hand is already disappearing, slipping under the waistband of your shorts and panties to slide two of his fingers between your folds. You jolt at the contact, moaning as he uses those two fingers to rub circles on your clit gently.

“Chan,” you moan and he hums distractedly, leaning down to suck more marks on your skin. He slips in a finger without warning, but since you were so wet and ready for him, you took his finger in easily.

Chan curses, testing the waters by slipping in a second finger slowly, and though there was a bit of a sting this time, his second finger slides in just as easily.

“God, baby, you’re soaking.”

Chan crooks his fingers, brushing against your g-spot almost immediately, making you jolt and whine. He picks up the pace, fingers fucking in and out you fast despite your underwear and shorts restricting most of his hand movement.

He comes up for a kiss, your mouth opening automatically for him to slip his tongue in. He groans into your mouth at your obedience, free hand gripping your jaw tight. He sucks on your tongue just as he adds a third finger, and you pull away to hiss.

Chan’s fingers were long and filled you up nicely, and with how he was rubbing at your g-spot insistently, it wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm climbing up again.

“I’m prepping you, but it looks like you don’t need it with how you’re sucking my fingers in, baby.” Chan shakes his head, playful disbelief coloring his tone. “Did you think about my cock in you all day? Wanted me to fuck you that bad?”

“Yeah, yes, I- ah,” you gasp, nodding at his words rapidly. Chan leans in to kiss you again, but you manage to stop him with a shaky hand pressed to his chest, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“You held up your end of the deal,” you whisper, already breathless, “it’s time I hold up mine.”

Chan’s eyes darken, and you squeak when he suddenly sits up on his knees, free hand yanking your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion. He leans back down to get the kiss you stopped at before, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and making you moan.

“But first,” Chan murmurs against your lips, voice leaving no room for discussion. “You cum for me now.”

Now that there was no clothing to restrict his hand movements, the pace of Chan’s fingers picked up faster, driving you crazy and making you squirm on the couch. Chan pins your hips down with his other hand so he could drive his fingers into you easily, and the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting inside your cunt was so lewd you felt yourself blushing.

It only takes a quick brush of Chan’s thumb against your clit to have your body snapping, trembling in Chan’s arms as your hole convulses against his fingers. Chan groans like he was the one having an orgasm, eyes appreciatively staring at the way your head was thrown back, chest heaving up and down.

Chan pulls his fingers out carefully, planning to just wipe them on his shirt, but then you make a noise, catching his attention. He looks up, confused, but then sees the way your gaze was trained on his fingers— which were slicked with your juices— and his cock got so hard, it started to hurt.

“Fuck, you’re filthy.” Chan whispers, but he brings his fingers up to your lips, letting you lick and suck to your heart’s content. Chan swallows as you look up at him through your lashes, cleaning his fingers thoroughly with long swipes of your tongue. For each glimpse he sees of the wet appendage around his finger, his dick jumps in his sweatpants.

You pull off slowly when you finish, eyes still locked with Chan’s. The both of you were breathing hard now, gazes intense as you stared each other down. At first, you felt like both the predator and the prey. Chan could destroy you with his fingers alone if he wanted to, but he was easy to fluster as well.

But then Chan tilts your head up with a single finger, leaning down to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips, a kiss so full of intent, lust and— love, that it leaves you breathless, eyes wide.

Chan lips quirk. “Bedroom?”

Saturday, 10:41 pm.

“Arch for me, baby.” Chan orders, breathless, hand smoothing down your lower back. You were truthfully too weak to hold yourself up already, mind numbed with pleasure, but you do your best, legs shaking with the effort to present yourself. But the pleased grumble that immediately comes out of Chan definitely makes the grueling position worth it.

You were both naked now, having shed Chan’s clothes as soon as you stumbled through the bedroom door, after you spent a good ten minutes just making out against it. Chan had shut the door with a quick kick, carrying you on the way to the bed even though it was only a few steps away.

But you didn’t complain, not when he dropped you in the middle and immediately manhandled you to your hand and knees, tugging your hips close to him with a grunt.

“That’s my good girl,” Chan leans down, whispering the words against the nape of your neck as the tip of his cock slid between your folds.

You start whining, because you were much more exposed in this position and you were being good but Chan wasn’t doing anything about it and you just wanted to be fucked. You convey your displeasure by pushing back against Chan’s cock, trying to get it to slip in you without his help.

“Want it inside, sweetheart? Hm?” Chan mumbles against your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe teasingly. “I can feel your greedy little hole twitching against me. Shit, you want it that bad?”

You nod rapidly, uncaring of how desperate you looked. Mostly because Chan liked that look on you. He liked knowing that you let your guard down around him, that nobody in the world could bring you to your knees and have you begging to be filled like he does.

Chan never explicitly shows how much he likes thinking that you belong to him, because he really does believe you’re your own person and not an object to be owned. But here, like this, with your throbbing pussy against this cock and your teary eyes pitifully looking up at him to do something, anything— it brought out a sense of possessiveness in Chan that he never knew he had.

These were the kind of feelings that only you could bring out of him. You were the only one who ever made him feel like this, and the rush of both excitement and fear over it admittedly has him going crazy at times.

But there’s nothing in the world he loves more than knowing you feel exactly the same.

He sees this in the way you tilt your head up, begging for a kiss. It has him breaking out of character, lips tugging up into a fond smile, since he’d planned to be mean and tease you for a bit. But he doesn’t resist when he leans down to kiss you, not when the urge is so strong. Especially not when your smile against his lips felt like the world’s most addicting drug.

Ah, how lucky was he to have fallen in love with you?

“Channie,” you hiccup once he pulls away, and he presses kisses down your shoulder, hiding a smile. This is why he could never be a hard dom with you. One kiss and he’s weak.

“Mhm, I got it, I got it. Just relax for me, yeah? I’ll fill you up real good, sweetheart. Just relax for me.” Chan soothes, pulling back to sit up on his knees.

He grabs a hold of his cock so he could line it up and push in, but then he can’t stop the groan that comes out his throat when the contact eases the pressure on his cock. He hasn’t been touched since you started, and with how wet you were when he pressed against you, he didn’t even need lube. His hand slid up and down easily.

You bit your lip. You were torn between enjoying the godly image of Chan jerking off to the sight of you bent over for him or finally enjoying the feeling of being filled up. Chan pleasuring himself was always a sight to see, veiny arms flexing every time his hand moved.

His eyes fluttered close, and your eyes greedily followed the line of his jaw and the long column of his throat, mouth dry with how much you wanted to suck marks on it.

But you were once again reminded why you can’t, and you were in this position for a reason.

“My end of the deal,” you start, catching your boyfriend’s attention, “was to let myself be fucked six ways to sunday.”

You pause, your hand sliding behind you to slip your own fingers into your soaking pussy. You moan when one finger slips right in, bright eyes meeting Chan’s dark ones.

“Should I have just done that myself?”

Nothing could have prepared you for the way Chan yanked your finger out, gaze hard as he locked both your arms behind you back. He was only holding your arms back with one of his hands, but the grip felt as tight as a rope.

You shiver in anticipation.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby.” Chan hisses, finally pushing his cock inside, easily slipping in with how wet and stretched you were from his fingers.

He moves slowly, determined to make you feel every inch and ridge and vein of his cock against your clenching walls. You squirm and gasp as he pushes and pushes, filling you up so well until his hips are finally flushed against your ass.

“I’ll fuck you so well you’ll feel it here,” he slides his free hand down to your lower stomach, pressing down until he almost feels his cock bulging in you, “and you’ll feel it until next weekend.”

Then he pulls back and thrusts inside again, this time slamming in hard.

You choke on a breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Chan goes in deep and fast. The position allowed him to reach inside you deeper than ever, and you almost swear you feel him in your stomach.

He finds your g-spot again in no time, knowing your body better than you do. You jerk in his hold when he does and a scream gets stuck in your throat, and the fact that you could feel Chan’s amusement from your reaction just made it even hotter. You had no time to breath from how hard and fast Chan was fucking you, let alone make a sound.

God, you loved it.

It’s what has you cumming in no more than three more thrusts, mouth gaping like a fish out of water as the knot in your stomach finally snapped. Chan seems to have noticed, given that you were clenching around him like crazy, and the laugh he lets out is so attractive that you feel yourself clench again.

“Aww, already, Y/N?” He teases, making you flush. He sounded smug, and you made a mental note to kick him for it later.

And though he seemed to have noticed your orgasm, Chan doesn’t stop. In fact, he shifts his position and somehow finds a way to push himself in deeper, forcefully pushing a long, drawn out moan from your throat. He makes you ride out your orgasm, eyes staring intently at the way his cock slid in out of you, covered in your juices.

“Shit, Channn,” you groan out his name, voice breaking as he continues to drive his cock into you. “I- ah, ah, Channie, please, I can’t-“

“You can,” Chan grunts out simply, as if he knew your core was already tightening for your second orgasm in a row.

You open your mouth again to plead— for him to stop or keep going? you didn’t know— but then Chan slows down, and you finally manage to suck in the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Keeping his cock in you, Chan lets go of your arms, both of his hands now sliding under your torso to pull you up. You gasp at the sudden change in position, now sitting back on your knees as Chan’s arm wrapped snugly around your waist.

“Fuck,” Chan grunts in your ear, inhaling through gritted teeth as he thrusts into you again properly. His fingers trail down your hips and up your stomach, hands brushing up and down your skin like he was mapping it out. It tickled, and with every brush of Chan’s hand against a sensitive part of your body, you clench.

He moans lowly, the sound right by your ear and making you shiver. “You open up so well for me. You always do. So perfect for me, beautiful.”

Chan presses heated kisses on your shoulder, hands now gripping your waist tight so he could position you in a way that was pleasurable for both of you. When Chan’s lips trail higher, you subconsciously bear your neck to him, making him smile.

“Please,” you breathe out, your eyes stinging from the almost painful knot in your stomach, back so soon even though you’ve just calmed down.

“Again.” Chan exhales against your ear, hips picking up that demonic pace again. “Cum for me again.”

You moan, nodding mindlessly as Chan pulls you back onto his cock at the same time he thrusts forward. His big cock fills you up in all the right places, brushing against your sweet spot constantly and driving you crazy each time.

Since you were now being held up by Chan himself, you didn’t know what to do with your hands at this point, nails digging into your palms and creating indents.

But Chan, as attentive as ever even when he’s fucking you into oblivion, notices your hand situation and guides your arms upwards, pushing them back until your hands tangle in his hair instead.

The new position worked well for the both of you, because your back was arched to accommodate your arms, and Chan could drive his cock in that good kind of deep again.

Chan’s grunts by your ear just get you even hotter, along with his hisses every time you clench around him. He murmurs dirty praises in your ear, telling you over and over again how good your cunt felt around him and how you were taking him so well and how he’d love nothing more to be buried in you forever, so you’d never feel empty again.

The last straw is when his free hand comes up to your neck, fingers closing around your jaw so he could tilt your head up. You gasps noisily at that, tugging on his hair in surprise. You and Chan have talked about choking before, and though he wasn’t really cutting off your air, the feeling of his hand around your throat was more than enough to get you locking up around him.

Chan coos, lips brushing against your cheek as he talked you towards your orgasm. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me feel you cream around my cock again,” he grunts, pushing through the tight vice-like grip your walls had around him, “Come on, gorgeous. Let me feel it. Want you to cum for me again.”

You sob out Chan’s name, unaware of the tears slipping down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut and came for the second time in a matter of minutes. It was too fast, too sudden, still too sensitive from your last orgasm—

—and it was everything you ever wanted.

Chan immediately slows down when you start spasming around him, letting you ride out your orgasm slowly this time. He continues to murmur praises in your ear, pressing open mouthed kisses on the shoulder nearest to him.

You’re hiccuping and gasping his name, fingers tugging on his hair desperately. You were so lost in pleasure that you don’t notice him slowly pulling out and sitting back on his knees, pulling you back with him. He untangles your hands from his hair gently, and your arms limp at your sides now that you’re slumped over.

Chan brushes your hair back from your sweaty face when your head lolls back, and you easily accept the searing kiss that he presses on your lips. Though you were barely kissing back, breathing too hard to move your lips, you refused to let him pull away.

Chan’s kisses were like air for you during times like this, and you drink them in greedily.

“You were so good for me.” Chan praises once he pulls away, eyes bright as he stares down at you lovingly, thumb brushing against the tear tracks on your cheeks. “My good girl.”

Slipping an arm under your knees, he rearranges your positions so you could lie down on the middle of the bed. Chan lies on his side next to you, one hand propping his head up while the other hand intertwines with yours, squeezing every few seconds.

You were in a limbo, somewhere between still being conscious of your surroundings and feeling floaty, but Chan’s murmured praises and constant touches bring you back to the ground fully.

“Good?” Chan asks, sounding genuine, but you catch the smug look in his eyes.

You laugh quietly in response, eyes rolling good-naturedly, hand coming up to punch him playfully. Chan grins wide, leaning down so he could press a sweet kiss to your lips.

And when he pulls away, he brings your intertwined hands up to his face so he could place a kiss on the back of your hand too. You shudder from the sudden wave of affection going through you, feeling so lucky to be taken care of by someone as caring as Chan.

But. There was one issue.

“Channie,” you exhale, shifting to your side so you could plaster your sweaty body close to his, burying your face in his neck and breathing in his scent.

“Hmm?” He lets go of your hand so he could tuck your hair behind your ear, wanting to see your face.

“You didn’t-“ you start, indicating to the hard-on pressed against your thigh. You hear the breath he sucks in when you grind against it, but then there’s a hand stopping your hips from moving any more.

“We don’t have to.” Chan reassures, referring to your fucked out state as nicely as he could. It made you chuckle, until— “I already made you cry, anyway.”

You swat at his stomach, making him groan and laugh at the same time. He falls back onto the mattress, giggling as he shielded his torso away from your hands.

He was right, though. Your legs were already shaking, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how sore you would be tomorrow. Not to mention the different bite marks around your body. You look like you’ve just been mauled by a wild animal.

But—

“I want more.” You whine softly, knowing it got to Chan whenever you vocalized what you wanted. You crawl up his body slowly, watching as he licked his lips. You hips lower, sitting right on Chan’s cock and grinding, and you relish in the way his teeth grits.

You lean down, letting your lips brush against his ear before whispering, “Want you to cum in me.”

“Shit,” Chan curses, hands coming up to catch your hips in a bruising grip, halting your movements again. He was definitely holding back for your sake, but you didn’t want that. You had a deal to uphold.

“Come on, daddy.” You purr in his ear, grinning when he tenses again. “Don’t you want to fuck me full of your cum?”

You squeak when Chan flips your positions, him now on top of you and your arms pinned above your head. You breathe heavily, watching as his glazed eyes rake over your marked form, like he was taking you in. Carving the way you look into his memories.

He leans down then, arms caging the sides of your head. “You drive me crazy.” He admits, voice fond despite his heated look, and you blush all the way to the tip of your ears.

“Crazy enough for you to fuck me into the mattress?” You ask, voice tilting up hopefully as you flush, but you’re cut off by your own moan when Chan suddenly spreads your legs and ducks down, tongue licking a fat stripe up your slit.

“Fuck!” You gasp at the sudden attack to your sensitive pussy, head throwing back and hands immediately coming down to grip Chan’s hair. “You- what are you- oh, fuck me.”

You could feel the puffs of breath against your clit as Chan laughed, and you hit him on the back using your foot, annoyed that he was laughing as you lost your mind. He ignores you, swirling and flicking his tongue around the sensitive nub, before continuing to dip his tongue inside you.

The moan he lets out rivals your own, and you gasp as Chan eats pussy like he’s a starved man and it's his first meal, the slurping noises he makes sounding lewd even to your own ears.

You chant his name like a prayer, squirming on the bed as you tug on his hair hard. That only serves to make him moan, which in turn also made you clench again.

“Baby,” you sob, “please. If I don’t get your cock in me, I’ll- I- please.”

Chan finally lets up at that, pressing one last kiss to your swollen clit before he kisses his way up your body.

“Yeah? You need it?” He asks, breathless, but it was clear he wasn’t waiting for an answer. He must be as worked up as you are, because there was no more teasing this time, and you gasp when you feel the head of his cock brushing against your slit.

“What the hell was that,” you demand, voice clipped because Chan was pushing inside you again, testing the waters with miniscule thrusts. You jerk each time.

“Wanted you to shut up.” Chan chuckles, but he’s cut off by his own groan when he feels your hot, velvety walls clamp around him in response. He sucks in a deep breath, feeling how wet you were from both your juices and his spit.

“Shit, baby, how are you still so tight?” Chan sighs contentedly, pressing open mouthed kisses to your cheek. He’s got his upper arms on either side of your head, and you’re so close together that your breasts press against his chest, making you jolt with every brush of your nipples against his pecs. “You fit my cock so well, got me so hard-“

“It’s cause- ah, I’m made for you, shit, right there-” you slur mindlessly, head thrown back from the pleasure as Chan drove straight into your g-spot again and again. The way he hit it so precisely each time should have freaked you out, but you were far too out of your mind with pleasure to think about it.

Chan’s hips falter at the words.

“What did you say, baby? Say that again.” Chan demands, sounding desperate, and you gather all the strength you had left to pick your head up and look up at him. With how close you were, you were pressed nose to nose, Chan leaning down even further so your forehead pressed together. You meet eyes, and you shudder at the intensity of his gaze, suddenly looking much more animalistic than before. Ah.

Bullseye.

“Was made for you.” You murmur again, clearer now, arms coming up to wrap around Chan’s shoulders for leverage as he used you to get to his own orgasm. “I take your cock well because you’ve ruined me for anybody else, Chan,” you admit, eyes shaking. “Nobody’s ever— ever going to make me feel like this. Like you do- oh, fuck!”

You feel Chan bristling at the mention of someone else, and despite your fuzzy mind, you rush to placate him. “I’m yours, baby. Just yours.” you swear, cupping his cheek and forcing him to focus his gaze on you. You needed him to understand. “Any way you want. All of me. I’m all yours.”

Chan’s hips stutter, and he leans down to press your mouths together again. He’s moving too much to have your lips locked in a proper kiss, but he nibbles your lips, breathing heavily as he whispers, “Mine.” over and over again against your jaw.

Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind him. The pleasure and pain was so blurred that it was making you tear up again, but you pull him closer and beg him to go harder.

There’s a certain urgency to his thrusts now, more frantic and more desperate now that he’s let himself go, and you relish in his unrestrained groans and moans mixing with your own.

“Y/N,” he calls, voice guttural, and just the sounds of his fucked out voice saying your name has you tightening immediately again, making both you and Chan gasp. “Shit, baby, wait, I’m close- where-“

“Inside.” You beg, now nose to nose to Chan as he leaned his forehead on top of yours, eyes searching frantically. “Inside. I told you earlier, didn’t I?”

Chan groans, a loud and raw sound that vibrates against your chest, especially when he ducks his head down to the side so you were cheek to cheek now. You feel his teeth nip at your earlobe, low moans loud in your ear as his thrusts get more sloppy and uncoordinated.

“Y/N, are you-“

“I’m sure, Chan.” You turn your head, and your lips brush against his ear when you beg, “cum inside me. I want to feel it, want you to fuck your cum back into me. Please.”

Chan grunts, cock pulsing inside you at the thought. He was so close— teetering right at the edge as you continued to clench around him and whisper filthy things in his ear.

The last straw is when you tug his head back just in time, forcibly making your gazes meet when you whisper,

“Please, baby. Remind me that I’m yours.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as he finally stills and pumps his cum into you. The first spurt has you gasping noisily, clutching onto Chan tightly as he fills you up. You maintain eye contact for one glorious moment, but Chan’s eyes eventually flutter shut due to the overwhelming pleasure. You watch as his head lolls back, throat working out grunts and moans, complete bliss on his face.

The look is what triggers your fourth and final orgasm; dry and painfully, painfully good.

When he picks his head back up, your lips meet in a bruising kiss, tongues sliding against each other and teeth clacking as you both ride out your orgasm, him milking his cock inside you.

If you were filled before, you were bursting at the seams now.

Chan doesn’t pull out for a couple of minutes, the both of you catching your breath. But when he does finally pull out you immediately hiss, clearly oversensitive.

You clench unconsciously, but it’s no use, because you’re already shuddering from the feeling of Chan’s cum trailing out your hole.

Chan swallows, eyes staring intently at the way you clenched and unclenched with his cum dripping out of you, and he curses when his spent dick gives an interested twitch.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you croak out, shaking as you stretch your legs out. “If you so much as touch me right now, I might pass out.”

Chan’s lips quirk at the playfulness in your tone, but he knew there was some truth to your words. So he asks you if he can go get something to clean you up, only moving when you give him a clear response of yes. He’s back with a clean, damp cotton towel a minute later, as well as a bottle of water.

You groan in thanks when he makes you drink, patiently waiting until you’re finished to call your attention.

“Baby,” he calls, and you turn your head to face him. He holds the towel up as a form of a question, and you sigh, knowing it was better than nothing. You weren’t in any position to shower right now.

“Be careful, pl-“

“Shh.” Chan smoothes, starting by rubbing a thumb on your thigh. You were so high-strung that even that simple touch startled you, but Chan takes his sweet time and doesn’t rush you, distracting you with kisses every time you spasm.

He finishes cleaning you up soon enough, doing all the work and refusing to let you lift even a finger. You end up cuddled together after, just basking in each other’s warmth and your post-orgasm glows.

Sex with Chan was always amazing, because no matter how slow or how hard and fast you two went, it always ended in sweet kisses and cuddling. Chan never takes his hands off you, not even for a second, always attentive to your needs and wants. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the whole wide world.

In the background, a phone pings, jolting you out of your daze.

“Babe,” Chan calls when he unlocks his phone, chuckling under his breath. “I really did fuck you six ways to sunday.”

You prop your head up on his arm, peering up at his phone lazily. The first thing you see is a picture of you on the lockscreen, taken from when you were napping on his studio couch. The second thing you see is the time and date.

Sunday, 1:34 am.

You snort, turning away from the harsh glare of his phone to bury your face in his bicep. “That wasn’t even six. That was like— three. Or four at most. I don’t know. I blacked out.”

Chan snickers, locking his phone and tossing it on the nightstand. He’ll deal with the notifications tomorrow. For now...

He turns back to you, lips tugging into a smirk as he trails the tip of his fingers down your back, making you shudder.

“Wanna make it six, then? We still have time.”

You immediately yelp, slapping his hand away and rolling off him. You wiggle under the covers, tucking it around you to shield your body away from Chan’s hands.

“Are you crazy?! I can’t even feel my lower half!” You squawk, glaring at him from where you’re peeking behind the covers.

Chan laughs, that squeaky loud laugh you love that has his whole body shaking and eyes crinkling. He crawls over to you and nuzzles his face on top of your head, giggles pressing against your hair.

“Babyyy,” he whines, still laughing. “Let me in. I’m cold.”

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “What will you trade me?”

Chan’s eyebrows wiggle. “Your blanket for my body.”

You groan in disgust, turning your body away from your laughing boyfriend. Chan usually thinks he’s soooo hilarious, and he believes you do too.

Hiding, you bite back a smile.

“Yah,” he complains now, wrapping his lanky limbs around your burrito looking form from behind. “Come out already. I wanna cuddle.”

You wiggle out the covers soon enough, because you truthfully wanted to cuddle too, and plus, Chan’s pecs were nice to lie on. He welcomes you in his arms easy, huffing out a laugh when you smooch one of his pecs lovingly.

“I’m kinda hungry.” You admit after a few minutes, making Chan groan in disbelief.

“You’re insatiable. There’s no end to that stomach, is there?” Chan asks rhetorically, and you open your mouth to answer because you want to annoy him, but Chan catches you before you could. His hand comes up to cover your mouth, though his hand was so big that he ends up covering your nose as well. “Nope. Shut up. Quiet now.”

You laugh behind his hand, squirming and struggling until he finally relents when you lick his palm. And as if he didn’t just fuck his cum into you earlier, Chan scrunches his face and says, “Gross.”

You scoff. “You fuck me well into the next day and you’re expecting me not to get hungry?!”

“But this kitchen is so far,” Chan whines, even though you didn’t really ask him to get food for you. You’re just about to tell him that, when he adds, “-but fine. I’ll miss you for all the time that it takes you to get food.”

Chan flops back on the bed, eyes shut and clearly expecting you to leave. You squawk, pretending to be offended and swatting at his chest. “You’re just going to let your girlfriend go out into the night like that?! When I can’t even walk?!”

Chan opens one eye, amused. “The night is just 15 steps away.”

“Fine.” you huff, scooting back to your position. You drop your head down on Chan’s chest-- hard-- making him yelp. “I wasn’t even that hungry anyway. And we don’t even have food.”

He laughs, hand automatically finding its way to your hair. “I’ll get you whatever you want tomorrow, I promise. We’ll get brunch on the way to getting groceries, okay? How about that?”

You sniffle. “I want chicken.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it, just fondness. “Then we’ll get chicken.”

“‘kay.”

You sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of Chan’s fingers carding through your hair. His pecs were the perfect pillows, and combined with your post-sex exhaustion and Chan’s warmth, you were sure you were about to fall sleep. Dreamland was one step away, and you’re just about to fall into the waiting arms of a deep sleep when suddenly--

Chan’s stomach growls. Loud.

You burst out laughing, body curling up and shaking as you turn to Chan, who was hiding his face behind his arms in embarrassment.

“And I’m the insatiable one?”

“Not one word.” Chan huffs, refusing to meet your eyes as he grabs some clothes to throw at you. They land on your face, a move you knew was deliberate because you were still giggling.

Chan was the cutest when he was flustered, and even in the dim lighting of your room, you could see how red his ears were.

So you both bundle up— in only a few articles of clothing since it was an unusually hot night— just for the sake of looking decent. Chan wiggles in some sweatpants, and you slip on his shirt and boxers.

When you get up from the bed, Chan-- ever the gentleman that he is-- genuinely panics when you flail due to your legs buckling, and his arms are around you holding you up before you could even blink.

“You really can’t walk?” Chan asks, sounding hilariously horrified.

“No-” you laugh, “don’t look so scared. You didn’t break me, idiot. I can definitely still walk, just let me get used to it.”

But Chan seemed to think otherwise, because suddenly, your feet are off the ground and you’re being carried bridal style. You yelp, arms coming up to lock around Chan’s neck so you don’t fall.

“What.” This is the second time you’ve been carried to the kitchen in under a day, courtesy of your muscly boyfriend who seemed to think picking people up was something you can do casually.

“It’d take too long. I’m hungry.” Chan huffs, and you roll your eyes, amused. Chan could be a baby when he was hungry, and this was evident in how he rummages through the fridge with little huffs after he sets you down.

“There’s nothing to eat.” He sighs, as if the both of you didn’t already know that.

You groan, leaning against the counter. “I’m pretty sure we have ice cream?”

“That’s not very healthy.” Chan frowns, but opens the freezer door anyway and grabs the tub when he sees it.

You only turn around for a second to get a spoon, but when you face Chan again, he’s already sitting cross-legged on the floor, brows furrowed as he attempts to use the lid to scoop out some ice cream. You huff out a breath, exasperated and fond at the same time.

He looks up at the sound, then grins when you meet eyes. He opens his arms then, beckoning you over, and you carefully sit between his legs. Chan shifts a little bit to the side, hooking his chin on your shoulder. You move your hair to the other side so it won’t bother Chan, and he presses a quick peck to your now exposed cheek in thanks.

You yelp when Chan places the icy tub on your bare thighs, then glare when he just giggles. Chan’s shirt was huge on you, so he pulled it over your knees, giving the tub of ice cream a blanket of sorts to sit on and sparing your thighs.

Then, he takes the spoon from your hand, stabbing it through the iced treat with all the strength of a man who works out.

It barely pokes through. The ice cream was too frozen.

But you still wow exaggeratedly in an attempt to boost his ego, squealing when Chan digs his free hand on your side and tickles you. The spoon still gets a tiny, tiny bit of ice cream though, and you hate that you still blush when Chan feeds it to you.

“I think we have to wait for this to melt.” Chan says, blowing on the tub. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, giggling.

“Why are you blowing on it, then?”

“Why am I- oh.”

You laugh at the dumbstruck expression on Chan’s face, finally realizing he was unconsciously blowing on frozen ice cream. Your laugh echoes throughout the apartment, and it’s only at that moment that you realized how quiet it was. The refrigerator hums beside you two, but other than that and some cars passing by outside, it was complete silence.

You realize how dark it was too, the only light sources coming from the refrigerator, and your bedroom.

“Shouldn’t we turn on the light?” You ask, and Chan looks up from where he’s violently stabbing the ice cream.

“Eh. Fridge works. Plus it’s hot, so I’m not closing this.” Chan shrugs, then pauses when he sees the look on your face. He chuckles, pulling you closer to him by the waist. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’m right here, remember?”

“I’m not scared,” you scoff, but scoot closer to Chan anyway.

The ice cream eventually melts enough for the spoon to dig in, and you and Chan take turns feeding each other. Chan had his back against some drawers, while you were tucked between Chan’s legs, head on his shoulder and ice cream tub on your stomach. The condensation was wetting your shirt and making the cold seep to your stomach, but you didn’t mind. You were too comfortable to move.

Chan was making a habit of kissing you after he fed you a spoon, and you liked the feeling of his cold lips tasting like strawberries more than you’d like to admit. Some tongue slips in after a while, but it doesn’t go any further than that, both of you too exhausted.

The dim light of the fridge casts a yellowish hue on yours and Chan’s lower halves, creating shadows. You play with that for a moment, wiggling your legs and making shadow puppets of animals with your hands. Chan watches you silently, so silent that you think for a moment that he’d fallen asleep.

But then he drops the spoon into the tub— and all while keeping his other arm around your waist— reaches a hand out to the light so it creates a shadow, and shapes his hand into…

...half of a heart.

You grin stupidly, and the way your heart rattles inside your chest shouldn’t be normal. At all. You had to get checked out. This was the type of cheesy things Chan loved to do daily, yet you reacted to each and every one of them like it’s his first time doing so.

He loved leaving heart doodles on the whiteboard by the fridge that had your schedules in it, particularly hearts that were next to your name. He dedicates songs to you, writes about you, and even sings to you when you want him to. He stops by the practice room when he knows you’re inside, slipping in quickly to say hello and kiss your forehead, uncaring of the loud teasing from trainees.

But if you couldn’t say hello, if you were in the middle of something, he always, always made sure to leave a heart on the mirrors that were fogged up from intense dancing. Sometimes it would just be a heart, sometimes it was a doodle. Other times it was a message like; good luck, or see you at lunch, or hey sexy with a winking face.

Most of the time, it’s three simple words.

I love you, it would read.

“Yah,” Chan complains, jolting you out of your sappy stupor. “Are you going to leave me hanging?”

He’s frowning now, wiggling the little half heart around impatiently. You grin at that, muttering about how he was being a baby and making him huff. But then you finally reach forward, painfully aware of how your heart jumped from doing this one simple action.

You complete the heart, and you both watch the shadow that it forms.

Chan sighs happily, turning his head to press a quick, cold kiss to your cheek. You knew the heart wasn’t going to stay for long, since your arms would get tired, but Chan doesn’t break the heart to pull away.

Instead, he intertwines your fingers, letting the shadow from some weird version of your hands together, and it’s only then that he brings your hands back. You grin as you lean back against him again, Chan wrapping both arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

At 2:04 am, you sit with Chan on the kitchen floor, the refrigerator both illuminating and cooling your bodies, empty ice cream tub beside you.

2:08 am, Chan carries you back to your bedroom. Not because you couldn’t walk still, but because he loved the feeling of you in his arms, head tucked safely into the crook of his neck.

2:09 am, you and Chan slip under the covers, and you giggle when he scolds you about kicking off the blanket in your sleep. You placate him with a kiss and a promise to keep him warm.

And at 2:16 am on a Sunday, after a couple more kisses and hushed sweet nothings, you end up with your ear pressed against Chan’s chest, the beating of his heart combined with his quiet breathing lulling you sleep.

Chan stays awake for a couple minutes more, ensuring you were comfortable and finally resting. He wraps his around you when you shift in your sleep, hand automatically cupping the back of your head. Keeping you close, right where his heart was. He knew you weren’t going anywhere, but every second with you was something he knew he had to treasure.

“Y/N,” he sighed, burying his face in your hair. “I love you. So much. Too much, I think. Sometimes I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.” he pauses, swallowing. “Honestly… just saying it doesn’t feel enough anymore. How can I show you I love you? At this point, I want to grab every person in the street and list out all the reasons why.”

He snorts at the mental image, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. “That sounds a bit crazy, isn’t it? I have an infinite number of reasons… so if I do that to every single person, how long would that take me? Huh. Should I really do the math on that?” he pauses, then: “God, even in your sleep you’re driving me crazy.”

You murmur something in your sleep, catching his attention. You were mumbling nonsense, but when his hand cups your cheek, you quiet down.

Smiling wistfully, he adds, “but... I don’t care. Really, Y/N, I’ll give you all my love if it means staying like this with you forever.”

Pressing one last kiss to your forehead, Chan finally gets comfortable and closes his eyes.

He’s much more vulnerable when he knows you’re asleep because he’d be too flustered if you replied, but the responding snore you give him a few seconds later makes him laugh again. Maybe you were unconsciously trying to respond to him, maybe you were just really deep in dreamland.

Either way, Chan falls asleep with a smile on his face, and the love of his life in his arms.

Sunday, 12:47 pm.

The brunch Chan had promised turns into a late lunch, because by the time you both woke up the next-- the same?-- day, it was already quarter past noon.

True to your predictions last night, you were sore. Chan runs you a hot bath, genuinely looking worried now, but you assure him that it wasn’t something that a few painkillers couldn’t fix. But he still looked uneasy, so you raised an eyebrow.

“What, you’re gonna regret the way you fucked me until I cried?”

Chan turns as red as a tomato, and you laugh as he spins on his heel and leaves you in the bathroom, shouting something about getting the medicine.

It did hurt, but you kind of liked it, considering the reason why you were sore. Chan frowns and questions why you were red in the face when he gets back, worried you were getting a fever, but you just flush even more and shoo him away.

When you get out of the bath, the first thing that greets you is the smell of chicken. Chan must have ordered while you bathed, and your heart warms at the thought of your boyfriend remembering your hunger and craving for chicken.

That is, until you find Chan on the couch already munching on a drumstick. He looks up at you in alarm when you walk in, face guilty.

“God, you’re insatiable.” You mock with your best impression of Chan’s voice, and the attempt makes him laugh too much to be mad about it.

You gorge yourselves on chicken and soda, some reruns of an anime you both love playing on the TV. You’re barely paying attention, more focused on the fan you had turned on blowing cool air on your face and the feeling of Chan massaging your feet.

You don’t even notice that you drifted off, jolting awake to the sound of an explosion coming from the TV. You must have been asleep for a while, because the table was clear of any takeout boxes and soda cans. At that moment, Chan comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered. He smiles when he sees you squinting at him, disoriented and half awake.

“Come on, baby. Time to get groceries.”

You didn’t bother to dress up much, considering it was hot out and you were not about to put fashion first and experience a possible heat stroke. So you steal another one of Chan’s shirts, ignoring his half-hearted protests.

He had plenty of other shirts. He could use those.

Chan gives you a look when you come bounding out of the bedroom in his shirt, but you knew he liked his clothes on you. The pink tinging his cheeks was more than enough proof. Plus, you had a diversion.

“Help me?” You ask, and Chan tilts his head, confused. But then you bring out a box, velvet and rectangular and blue.

It was the box that holds the necklace Chan gifted you for your birthday, and considering your profession, you couldn’t wear it everyday, hating the thought of it being drenched in sweat or god forbid, breaking while you dance.

So you wear it on your off days, keeping it in the box most of the time to be safe. Chan chuckles, smiling stupidly as he takes the necklace out the box, snorting when you scold him to be careful with it.

“Alright, alright. Just turn around, will you?” You huff, but turn around obediently, moving your hair away so Chan could do it easily. The cool metal of the necklace settling against your neck has you shivering, but so does the soft kiss that Chan presses on your exposed nape and shoulder. The pendant— a compass— sits between your collarbones, and you hold it between your fingers gently, feeling giddy.

Chan watches you with a soft smile for a few seconds, taking you in. It’s only when he notices the time that he regretfully bursts your bubble, grabbing your attention with a kiss to your cheek and taking your free hand in his.

“Ready?” he asks, eyes shining, and your heart flutters.

“Yeah.” You smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Let’s go.”

And though your diversion had worked for a moment, you knew yourself that it wouldn’t last. Chan still complains as you walk down the street, intertwined hands swinging between you, talking about how he had nothing to wear.

“You should just walk around shirtless then.” You suggest, winking, and you barely manage to stop an embarrassing shriek when Chan pretends to trip you. There was no way you were going to fall though, because Chan had a tight grip on your arms, but you still punch him on the shoulder for it.

Chan reacts dramatically, exaggerating his yelp of pain, as if he didn’t have hard muscle surrounding his entire body. You roll your eyes, leaving him on the sidewalk, ignoring his calls of your name mixed with his laughter.

You laugh and stumble on the way to the grocery store like idiots, and the time it took for you to get there probably took twice the time than it originally would, with how much you two were goofing off. But you do eventually get there in one piece, albeit breathless and giggly.

You guys had no specific routine for grocery shopping, just that there was a limit to snacks, and it was 5 for each of you. No more than that.

(This rule is usually never followed, but you guys keep it and remind each other of it at the entrance, just for the sake of acting like you were responsible adults who could control their cravings and knew how to stick to their budget.)

Thus, grocery shopping with you was always an experience, because you and Chan were both very passionate about food and would sometimes have different opinions. It would end in tiny fights, but it gets resolved just as quickly as it starts.

Either Chan relents because you looked cute and he secretly wants it, or you relent because Chan looked cute and you secretly want it.

So more often than not, other shoppers would find two people disputing in the middle of some aisle, and it’s just the two of you hissing back and forth about the pros and cons of a certain product.

Like now.

“We don’t eat that cereal. You don’t even like how it tastes.”

“You don’t like how it tastes. I ate the entire bag when we last bought this.”

Chan raises an eyebrow. “And did you do that willingly?”

“Well, no, but-” You stomp your foot, frustrated. All the tantrum does is bring a smile to Chan’s face, which wasn’t what you wanted. You weren’t being cute. You needed him to understand. “Ah, you know I don’t like wasting food!”

“So, why, pray tell, do you want to buy that?”

“Because-” you start, and Chan flicks his gaze down to the cereal in your hands, confused. But then you turn the box around and-

Ah.

“Look,” you point at the bowl stuck on the back of the box, grinning excitedly. “They have an ugly black cat now.”

Simply put, the box that you were holding was a brand of cereal that was for kids, and the taste of the actual cereal was too medicine-y for you and Chan. However, the sole reason you had bought one before is because of the freebie the cereal came with, a small plastic bowl with a white cat painted on it.

To be honest, the cat was kind of ugly and terrifying looking, but you were drawn to it for inexplicable reasons. Chan, who was unknowing of the taste of the cereal at that time, simply nodded and let you take the box home.

The cereal itself was crossed out from the very first taste, but you’ve both grown fond of the ugly white cat bowl, sometimes using it for non-cereal things.

(Like wine, after a long, long day at work. It typically consists of the bowl being passed back and forth between you two, instead of just chugging the entire bottle down like animals. You both had too much class for that.)

Chan sighs exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. But your excitement was infectious, and he finds himself smiling at the ugly little thing too.

Still, he tries to be the responsible adult and reasons, “you’re already 3 snacks past the limit. Plus, don’t we already have a bowl at home?”

“I know we do! But look at this black cat, Channie. Ugly White Cat can get a friend, plus if we get another bowl, that means we can match. Matching ugly cat bowls.” You explain, holding the box up to his face and wiggling it. “Think about it.”

And Chan did think about it for a moment. You really didn’t need another bowl, having plenty enough for the two of you and possible guests, but the prospect of matching with you…

And ugly white cat did look kind of lonely...

Fuck. He was getting too weak for this. You look at him with wide eyes, pleading and seemingly innocent, but you knew what effect that had on him.

He sighs, but there’s a smile on his face when he grumbles. “Fine.”

You cheer, pressing a long kiss to his cheek before you scramble away again, mentioning something about juice boxes.

Chan watches you skip down the aisle, grinning at the way your arms clutched the cereal box close to your chest, as if someone was going to take it away from you. He watches until you reach the end, crouching down at the selection of juice boxes.

He knew you took your juice box selection very seriously, evident in the way you were frowning and reading label packages. You looked kind of ridiculous, Chan’s old shirt bunched around your waist and a cereal box with some toy for kids tucked in your arms.

His shirt, which was entirely too big for you, starts sliding down your shoulders due to your crouched position. This reveals your neck, and he flushes when he sees memories of last night blooming on your skin.

And even from this distance, he sees the necklace and the way it glints, making you look much more ethereal.

After a few seconds, you apparently read something you didn’t like, because your head snaps up suddenly, catching Chan’s attention just so you could point at a box and make a disgusted face.

Chan laughs, despite not knowing what the hell you just pointed to. But you seem to be satisfied by his response, because you grace him with the prettiest smile, the one that he loved among your many other smiles— the one that makes your eyes crinkle and your cheeks bigger.

Chan’s breath catches in his throat at the sight. Something in his heart sings.

He loves you. He was so in love with you that it hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by your side. To sleep with you, wake up with you, argue about groceries in pajamas with you, have matching ugly cat bowls with you, and come home with you— all of that. Always.

So when you turn back to your juice boxes, Chan hurriedly pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contact list quickly and tapping the call button on a familiar name.

Chan and you meet eyes again when you hold up two juice boxes of different flavors for him to pick. He knows immediately that you picked the orange one because he likes it, but Chan also knows that you couldn’t stand the orange flavor. So he tilts his head to the right, choosing apple.

You blink in surprise, but he could tell you were trying to hide the fact that you were giddy he picked apple. He smiles softly, heart singing again.

On his phone, the call he made finally picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hey, Bin? You busy? No, no, we’re fine. Yeah, I just-- remember the jewellery shop we went to last month? Do you still have their address? Yeah, that one. I threw mine out because I didn’t want Y/N to suspect anything.”

A pause, then he snorts, “I’m aware I just bought her a necklace, yes. But I’m not buying a necklace this time. Really. Yeah, um. Well, I think I—“ Chan swallows, eyes nervously going back to you.

You had both the cereal and juice box in your arms now, seemingly on your way back to Chan, but then you get distracted by free samples of cheese. You pretend to reject the offer for a moment, but falter in your step when the saleslady tries again. Chan snorts softly when you take five samples unashamedly, heart singing louder.

Will you wait for me? / Of course. You know I always will.

You were the only one who ever made him feel like this.

Honestly… just saying it doesn’t feel enough anymore. How can I show you I love you?

I’ll give you all my love if it means staying like this with you forever.

Your eyes meet again. You’ve balanced the plate of cheese on top of your boxes, face looking all too proud and excited as you gestured to the cheese, beckoning him over. He nods, indicating he’ll be there, and you go back to talking animatedly with the saleslady.

“Hyung?” Changbin’s voice on the other line calls, waiting for him to continue. “You think...?”

“Ah, no… I’m sure.” Chan smiles giddily, heart now creating symphonies in his chest. He’s never been more sure in his life.

All of this. Always.

“A ring. I’m buying a ring.”

[softsnzstuff]

Request from @justaddsniffles - Camping scenario with Edissy.

Enjoy 1.1k of sick!Eddie and soft!Chrissy

🤍 Thanks for the prompt, love! -KB

*******************************************************

“Is it a left or a snF right up here?”

The crinkling of the paper map unfolding interrupted the Rock N Roll mixtape playing on the car radio. The strawberry blonde analyzed the map, turning it a few different ways before figuring which was right side up. Her finger traced along the drawn highway until it arrived at the spot labeled “Eddie and Wayne’s Spot” in sharpie.

“It’s going to be a right!”

Chrissy beamed up at her boyfriend who was driving the van to the campsite he and Uncle Wayne used to come to every summer. They’d stopped when Eddie turned about 13, but he remembered them very fondly.

Now he was taking Chrissy, his first love, in early November, when the leaves were bright orange and everything felt warm.

“I think you’re going to really love this place, Chrissy. It was my safe haven as a kihh - kid. H’exxtchEW! Ing’tCHEW! HxshIEW!”

Eddie ducked into his elbow, one hand still on the wheel. Chrissy reached over and patted his thigh.

“Bless you. I’ll love any place that is special to you.”

Eddie veered off to the right, switching from the main road to a dirt trail, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The path wrapped around several bends, moving up and down with the curves of the Earth.

A few minutes later they pulled to a stop. There was a clearing of dirt on the edge of the lake, backed up against a dense wall of trees.

Eddie hopped out of the van and ran around to help Chrissy out, her hiking boots meeting with the slightly damp ground.

“Welcome to Casa de Munson. It’s uh, not much but it feels like home.”

Chrissy pulled him closer to her and placed her other hand on his chest, looking up at him.

“It’s perfect, Eddie.”

Eddie grinned ear to ear, the November flush standing out against the black and grey of his flannel. His eyes darted from Chrissy’s, down to her lips, then back up to her eyes before he leaned in.

Chrissy leaned in too, her eyes closing. She was instead met with her boyfriend quickly turning to the side, and pitching downward into the left collar of his flannel.

“H’ehKSH’iew!! Ik’esshIEW! Ngt’chEW!! snFF”

“Bless you!” She placed a hand on his arm, “Are you feeling okay? You seem extra sneezy today.”

“Yeah, sheesh sorry… snFF, m’bust be m’by allergies.”

---

Eddie spent the afternoon setting up the campsite and showing Chrissy his favorite spots. The climbing tree that Eddie used as a lookout post, the dock where Wayne taught him how to fish, and the rock he fell off of and broke his arm when he was 11.

Chrissy took in every detail of the scenery, images of Eddie as a kid dancing around in her mind. Although he never joined the scouts, Wayne made him learn a few basic skills like starting fires - this particular skill something he showed off as he prepped their campfire for the night.

The flame danced, embers crackling and lighting up the surrounding area. The evening felt perfect: making s’mores, dancing in the moonlight, and Eddie strumming his guitar while she leaned up against him.

“IK’tschEW! TssCH! H’eKTssh!”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks. snF sorry…”

She looked up and kissed his cheek. “Let’s get you to bed.”

---

Chrissy had stepped to the side to brush her teeth. She marched back to the tent, her flannel pajama bottoms ticket into her boots, waffle knit top pulled over her hands.

As she approached the tent, she could see Eddie’s silhouette, illuminated by the small lantern they had brought. Since the tent was thin material she could see and hear him.

“Gk’tschEW! Hih’KSH’iew!! snF snFF- K’isshEW!”

Chrissy unzipped the tent door and climbed in, kneeling next to Eddie with a hand on his back. “Bless-”

“Nohhht doone- H’aeKSSSH! HEH’ih’KSSH!!”

“Aww poor baby.” Chrissy rubbed circles on his back while he sniffled helplessly.

“snRKT, sorry, pollen’d is really getti’g to m’be I guess.”

Chrissy frowned, “Let’s get some rest, maybe that’ll help?”

“Yeah m’baybe.” Eddie cleared his throat and kissed Chrissy on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

They both crawled into their sleeping bags and he clicked the light off. Chrissy had drifted easily into a light sleep, but for Eddie, it was a restless night.

Up until about 2am, he tossed and turned, waking up in a sweat, then freezing from being in sweat soaked clothes.

He’d fallen asleep for a short while, but woke up again a few hours later in the early hours, throat sore and tickly. He felt he couldn’t even get a full breath in without the tickle in his throat making him choke. With his mouth closed, he sat up stifling a cough against his fist, trying not to wake Chrissy.

He coughed for about twenty seconds before it had knocked loose some of the congestion that he felt settling in his sinuses.

‘Oh no’ he thought. If he got into a fit right now, he��d wake Chrissy for sure. He felt the tickle blossom, spreading across the back of his nose.

He inhaled sharply before harshly stifling into his hands, fingers pinching his nose closed.

“H’Nxxt! NxxxT….H’NxxT!” He sniffled thickly, turning to look when he heard Chrissy stirring in her sleeping bag.

“-ddie?” A small murmur.

“Everything’s fiihh H’NgtSSCH! Go back t’bed, Chris… Heh’KSSH! IKT’sssCHEW!”

He coughed wetly into his elbow and sniffed soupily, Chrissy kneeling down in front of him, one hand on his shoulder and on hand to his clammy forehead.

“Hey Eds, I think this might be something more than allergies.” She cooed, handing him his bandana. He blew his nose before responding.

“I snrFF thi’gk you mbight be right.” He rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes. “Sorry I woke you up.”

She giggled and pulled him into a hug, “This is not the first time your sneezing has woken me up, Eddie Munson.”

He hugged her back, his own laugh distorted from congestion. “You okay with it if we cut this trip short? M’baybe come back another day?”

“Of course! Let’s get you back to 100% first. The real ‘Casa de Munson’ is wherever you are.”

“Have I ever told you I love you?” He asked.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

[arrow-dynamic00]

To Harm and Heal (Arcane Viktor x gn!Reader)

Warnings: mentions of death, injury, slow burn (and when I say slow burn, I mean slow burn.)

To Harm and Heal - Part I:

Running hurts without any shoes. The rocks and dirt you can feel getting into every nook and cranny of your foot is terrible. It’s even worse when that one sharp pebble hits your foot, but you have to be quiet. Besides the physical pain of that night, the hurried steps of your father can never seem to leave your mind. From your short height you would glance first to the golden arm garters he wore, then to his face. You’re sure that if he was still here he would be happy to see the person you’ve grown up to be.

The familiar roofs of Piltover hold steady as you leap from building to building, heavy bag on your shoulders. The sun could rise any minute now and you couldn’t risk being caught today, you had work to do. Jayce finally got approval to work on his Hextech project he’s been dreaming of for forever. With the help from his new partner, he cracked the code to controlling magic for non-magic borns. Though you have your own set of skills, the physics and math that man was doing was way out of your league. The least you could do was help him design a structurally sound machine that could hold the crystals. The last one he tried making collapsed in on itself.

Taking that last step onto the balcony of the academy, you snuck in passing multiple rooms before opening the door to the new Talis Lab. Upon entry you saw two men hunched over Jayce’s Hextech machine and mountains of books, papers, and journals. Jayce was pointing out the discrepancy between him and the other man’s equations. The slender dark haired man was familiar, but you didn’t quite recognize who he was. The placement of the bag onto a nearby table turned the boys towards you.

“Oh (y/n), you really got the parts. You are such a life saver!” Jayce walked over to you, taking out the metal pieces you had gotten. Turning away from Jayce you could observe the other man. He wore a similar uniform to Jayce and walked with a cane as he made his way over.

“Are you the merchant who keeps gathering these materials for Jayce and I?” The accent made you realize, this was the assistant to the dean of the academy.

“Yes, and I assume you’re Jayce’s partner?” At the mention of his name Jayce perks up.

“Right! I haven’t introduced you two to each other,” He grabs the arm of both of you. “(y/n), Viktor. Viktor, (y/n).” You both hold your arm out shaking hands in return.

“I’d like to help out more, but this is the best I can do.”

“Jayce has told me about your previous efforts. You have helped us more than you think.” Seeing Jayce with a partner like this made you happy in how far he’s come. Seeing him work with Viktor reminded you of the late nights trying to understand any of the words coming out of his mouth. With the help of someone like Viktor, he was sure to go far in his projects. You wondered what would draw him to want to help Jayce.

Magic had you and Jayce fascinated for your whole lives. The day you first met, you bonded on experiencing life saving events with the help of magic. It had kept you alive while it saved his mother. The differences in magic you lived through allowed for differences in what you could provide. While Jayce had watched a series of runes and a mage with a staff, you watched your father use everything in order to protect your family. The golden arm bands he wore shone brightly, a blindness you could never forget. As much as Jayce pushed you to show him the arm garters, they were too precious for anyone else to see. That, and your mother would never let you take it out of its display case.

Watching the two of them work was amazing. Sliding from chalkboards to journals was chaotic, but marvelous. You had to remind yourself you were working on your own projects. If they were stuck on something you’d ask a question thinking if they explained it they would find the issue they were dealing with. This small trio forming was refreshing. Over the next few months you would continuously bring specific pieces of metal they needed while they discovered new uses for Hextech. Having people to talk to about what they were passionate about kept you all up for hours on end. The days started in the early darkness and ended late, the sky looking the same as the morning. Nightly trips to the Undercity continued well. Until a certain trip made you land in a certain someone’s home.

Chapter II:

https://arrow-dynamic00.tumblr.com/post/673627093564817408/to-harm-and-heal-arcane-viktor-x-gnreader-part

[slightlymore]

remote control

fem reader x kun x doyoung x ten

genre: smut, pwp, some crack because 96 line duh

warnings: 4some and everything regarding that,,, unprotected, cum play, toys, overstimulation, masturbation, fingering, oral, little slaps to the coochie and thighs, grinding, anal ahem let’s go

idk what spirit possesed me while writing this 😳😳 don't take me accountable it was not me I swear ✋✋✋absolutely not for the faint of heart

vibe: they give you some birthday cake :)

words: 3.8k

_____

Ten groaned after he put a foot in the candle-lit living room. 

"Y/N, when you invited me for dinner I didn't expect to see the faces of those two idiots as well."

Doyoung, kneeling on the soft carpet in front of the tv, rolled his eyes while Kun furrowed his eyebrows offended. 

You patted Ten's shoulder with a giggle. 

"It's a festive dinner, the more, the merrier." 

"I hate to say that Ten's right, because he's never right, but I also thought this was a romantic duo escape," Doyoung finished arranging his presents in the dedicated spot as if it were Christmas and sighed. 

"Well,” Ten took a chip from the bowl in front of Doyoung, “I see that we share one brain cell. Is that the good shirt Kun? The one that shows off the pecs?" Ten teased the older who scoffed. 

"Do you know how cold it is?" he eyed Ten's exposed chest as he had three open buttons. 

Doyoung snorted.

You bit your lower lip to not giggle again then clapped your hands once as to get their attention. 

"No fighting for one night. Please? The food will be here soon." 

"Wait, you didn't cook?" Ten placed his gifts on the coffee table. 

You shook your head and he chuckled, high fiving you. 

"What are we doing in the meantime? Movie?" Kun sat on the couch, staring at the way Ten didn't let your hand go for a few more moments. "Come sit here," he continued, patting the spot near him, "you said you were very tired."

You sighed and fell on the couch, the sudden movement making Kun wobble so he grabbed your thigh to sustain himself. He considered it a very comfortable armrest since he didn't show any desire to take his hand away. 

"We can open the gifts," Ten sat on the ground in front of you with a wiggle of the eyebrows. 

Doyoung whined dramatically. "But it took me so much time to arrange them aesthetically."

"No one cares about yours. Y/N, open mine," the younger smiled excited, his smirk making you chuckle once and you accepted the gift he was extending you. 

"What's this?" 

Doyoung brought his gifts along and sat on the other side of the couch, his shoulder rubbing on you when he tried to find a more comfortable position. 

"Open it and you'll see," Ten murmured. 

The box under the wrapping paper was foreign to you so you shook it a few times. Kun frowned trying to read better and Doyoung gasped after a few moments of blinking. 

"Ten? Is this a vibrator?" you finally asked when your hand wrapped the pink toy. 

Ten laughed at your reaction and took the object from your hands. 

"Happy birthday. It's a remote vibrator," he explained happily. "You can control it with your phone. Remember when you told me about how it's hard for you to change speed on your vibrator in certain positions? Since it's hard to reach?" 

Kun and Doyoung shifted on their seats at his words and you felt your face burn. "Ten! That was confidential," you grabbed the toy back and shoved it into its box.

"Make sure to try it. If you need help to understand how it works I can help you," he winked and you couldn't help but giggle a little. 

"Well, now you have to check mine," Doyoung disrupted the moment by shoving his box in your arms instead. 

Ten leaned back on his hands with a grin, so sure of his gift being the best one that he choked on air at the sight of the white delicate material in your hands. 

"Oh, Doyoung! It's beautiful!" you touched the lingerie with your fingertips before lifting it, looking at the way the light could easily pass through it. "I hope it fits."

"It will," Doyoung was proudly smiling at you, probably patting himself on the shoulder in his head. 

"Doyoung keeps staring at your ass so he probably knows your size but I won't believe it will fit until I see you in that myself," Ten passed his tongue on his lip and you rolled your eyes positively amused. 

"Ten, stop being horny challenge," Kun murmured. 

"I can let you see her in my gift if you let me also teach her how to use the toy," Doyoung offered a deal. 

"Uhm? Guys? I'm right here?" 

Ten and Doyoung ignored you, deep into their stares battles until Ten smiled slyly as if they silently came to a compromise by themselves. 

"Y/N? What do you seriously think about that?" he locked eyes with you, the heaviess of that suggestion making a lump form inside your throat. 

"Model that for us?" Doyoung whispered on your side. "We just want to make sure it fits," he raised his palms, no sly intentions - he meant.

Passing the occasion to fuck your hottest friends on your birthday? You were all heated up at the thought and you did want to hide away, but their hungry eyes gave you courage. 

So you shrugged, faking nonchalance. "Okay."

The guys let out surprised sounds and Kun's hands on his gifts tightened, making the packet crinkle. 

Doyoung sat up from the couch and Ten followed suit as if needing to move. The sudden change of air made your hair swoosh and you chuckled before noticing Kun's gift. 

"Oh, right," you tried to take it but Kun was quick to pull it away. 

"It's not for me?" you blinked at him a few times. 

"Uhm," Kun sucked the air through his teeth. 

"Oh? Kunnie is embarrassed that his gift is very PG? Did you buy socks?" Ten teased him, the hot pink toy already in his hands making his image even wilder. 

"Come on, Kun," you smiled. "Whatever it is, it's alright. I'll love it," you assured him, stretching one hand again and you both laughed as he kept it out of your reach. "Kun!" you grunted, almost climbing in his lap. 

The man slid away from you on the couch, your body hovering over his when he didn't have any more space to run away to, until you straddled his waist and made your way upwards, grabbing at his extended arms and pulling down. 

A little triumphal squeal left your lips when you reached the box and you quickly opened it. Kun let out a defeated sigh, his free hands now resting on your thighs draped on both sides of his torso. 

So concentrated on the gift, you didn't even notice the lack of teasing from the other two when Kun whispered. 

"You can use it as a blindfold."

The silk scarf in your hands felt like water on your skin. 

"What?" you finally realized what Kun said. 

"Like this," he sat up and your body slid down to his thighs in the movement. He took the scarf and gently placed it on your eyes. 

It felt so soft on your eyelids that you sighed pleased. 

You chuckled slightly embarrassed from the sudden silence but it was quick to get disrupted when you felt your lips kissed gently by Kun. 

"It heightens your other senses," he whispered like a demonstration.

The other two groaned loudly, bickering about how you needed to change into the lingerie first before doing anything else. But your mind was too concentrated on how Kun's body felt under yours and on his hands palming your lower back and going to cup your ass to actually hear anything at all. 

You pushed into the kiss, even more, diving your hands into Kun's hair, the blindfold making the sensation even more acute indeed.

"Kun, don't be greedy," you heard Doyoung talk and Kun let your tongue go. You really liked it and desperately wanted to keep your mouth occupied, so when Kun turned you around with your back to touch his chest, you hummed pleased to feel someone's lips on yours again. A different taste and a different technique and you wondered if it was Doyoung, his teeth on your lower lip making you whine. 

"I knew you were a biter," you murmured and his breath, hitting your face as he chucked so close to you, caressed your skin so deliciously that you wanted to feel it everywhere. And thank goodness that Kun was there because he gave you just that, his tongue licking your neck in little circles before he started to suck on it. You whimpered and felt Doyoung pull your jaw, even more, catching all of your sounds with his mouth again. 

"I washed it-" you heard Ten enter the living room again and you wondered when he left in the first place. "Oh shit, yall already like this?" he commented and you dropped your hand from Doyoung's stomach to his crotch and felt his hard rock cock under the pants. He bit your lower lip again at the sensation and you whined, mirroring his heavy breaths. Then you whined again, this time alone when Kun's hands were quick to pull your sweater off your frame. He adjusted your blindfold again before palming your arms at the sudden goosebumps formed on your skin. 

In a second your lips got occupied again and this time you tasted Ten's chapstick instead of Doyoung's mints, the latter probably occupied with fumbling with your pants. Your bra got opened by Kun's hands at the same moment your bottoms got dragged away from your legs. Your knees buckled under Doyoung's cold touch and he whistled silently when you opened them up to drape over Kun's legs. The latter's fingers were gently cupping your soft breasts and you had to break off the kiss to pant. Ten didn't complain and promptly dropped to your chest instead, letting his tongue draw wet stripes around your nipples then flicking your swollen buds with such vigour to make you squirm in Kun’s arms. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” you heard Doyoung’s voice somewhere on your left, probably enjoying the view. “You like to have three guys all over you, don’t you?” 

Your mind started to buzz when Kun’s hands dropped to your stomach, your breasts occupied by Ten’s mouth, and when they grasped at the cotton of your panties you squeezed your thighs together. 

Doyoung clicked his tongue and lightly slapped them open again. “Be a good girl and open for Kun.” 

“Are you going to take my fingers well, baby?” you heard the latter whisper into your ear. You moaned, letting your head fall backwards on his shoulder and Kun was quick to suck on your exposed neck. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out and your hands automatically went to Ten’s hair and pulled when Doyoung hooked his fingers under your panties and dragged them down your legs. 

Completely nude in front of them, you could feel Kun’s jeans rubbing on your bare ass skin, his soft sweater making you want to fall deeper into his embrace. 

“Fuck, I might just cum right now,” Ten murmured, lightly caressing your legs.

You wondered what he was looking at but then in a moment your lips got parted by Kun's fingers and when he started to gently rub your wetness, everyone swore softly under their breath, and you knew.

You whined and arched your back into his touch, the thought of giving them all a show going to your head. And you got even dizzier when Kun turned your head around to shove his tongue inside your mouth just when you felt someone else's tongue lap at your core. 

The wet sounds were sinful and there were so many hands on your body that you squirmed, the heat of them collecting all inside the nub someone was mercilessly flicking. And when he groaned, breathing out on your pussy, you recognized his voice and tried to imagine just how hot Doyoung looked between your legs. 

"I want to see you," you murmured breathlessly against Kun's mouth. Ten clicked his tongue amused. 

"Don't think so."

"You need to cum first, baby. Is that alright?" Kun asked with a low raspy voice.

His hands kept roaming your breasts and his cock was so hard against your ass that you wanted him to bury it in you already.

A loud wet smack made it difficult for you to talk and Doyoung's soft laugh sent vibrations through your body. 

"Yeah. This is how I want you. Fucked so good it's difficult to talk." 

Your legs twitched as you felt his fingertips nudge at your entrance and when you felt one slowly pumping you, your own fingers gripped Kun's arms that were keeping up thighs apart.

"If you're like this with just one finger, what's going to happen with all of our cocks?" Ten wickedly whispered near your jaw and you realized he was kneeling on the couch near you. 

"Are you going to be a good girl and take Ten in your soft mouth, baby?" Kun's teeth grated at your earlobe and you gasped loudly, feeling Doyoung inserting his second finger, scissoring inside of you so deliciously to make you beg. 

"Close, please, so close-," you mumbled then moaned Doyoung's name as he sucked on your hard clit. 

Your sounds got all choked up as you felt Ten's fingers tapping at your lower lip. You opened your mouth wide, tongue out waiting for him. Kun's blunt nails dug into your ass at the view and Ten grunted, presumably fisting his cock before slowly pushing past your lips. You relaxed your jaw and lifted your palms to place on his stomach but Kun was quick to grab your wrists and block your movements. 

"We want you helpless, baby. No touching. Let Ten have fun with you as he pleases."

His voice was so teasing that your whined, face stuffed with Ten's cock, giving Doyoung even more drive to eat you all out. He knew you were close so he picked up the pace, for a moment the only sounds in the room - your wet pussy and choking sounds. The vibrations of your throat were driving Ten insane as he held your head with one hand and fucked your mouth. Kun's fingers flicking your nipples just added to it and you were completely gone, cumming on Doyoung's hot tongue in seconds, legs shaking and hands gripping the first thing you could find. 

"Fuck, you're so good," Ten's voice was becoming a whine as he let you go to breathe and come down your high. 

Doyoung's lips were peppering kisses on your thighs as Kun's praises lingered in your ears. 

"Now give us another one, babe," Doyoung hovered over you and kissed your lips, letting you have a taste of your arousal. 

You dragged the blindfold to your neck and squinted, the view keeping you dizzy. 

You turned your head to Ten and opened your mouth again, shifting off Kun's lap. Ten was quick to slide on your tongue, hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to anchor himself. You whined and felt Kun's hands grab your waist, letting him adjust your body on all fours to his liking. And when you heard his belt unbuckling, your whole body twitched again. 

"Shit," he let his palm drag between your wet lips, wetting his cock with his fist and pumping himself a few times. 

Ten was kind enough to slide out as Kun stretched you out because it felt so good that you gritted your teeth. 

"Good girl," Doyoung hummed, hand moving your hair out of your face. "Does that feel good?" 

"Yeah," you breathed out. "Want your cock too."

Doyoung inhaled sharply and took his phone out of the back pocket. Ten moaned curses and you looked up right in time to see the hot spurts before closing your eyes. You felt them on your face and you were quick to open your mouth as well. 

"Fuck, Y/N," Ten breathed out, collecting some with his fingers and shoving them in your mouth. You licked them thoroughly, jolting as Kun spanked your ass once as if requiring your attention. He didn't need that, because the way his heavy cock felt inside of you was the only thing roaming your head, and when Doyoung finally got close too, you realized what the phone was needed for. 

The buzz of the vibrator filled your ears and when he placed it on your nipples first you thought you were going to go insane. 

"Hm, our little fuck toy enjoys this quite a lot," Doyoung hummed, letting it slide down your stomach. 

"Do our little toy also want all of her pretty holes used?" Kun asked, his spit falling between your asscheeks under his thumb. He caressed you gently before giving it a trial press down. 

"Yeah yeah please," you breathed out, wiggling your ass against his stomach when he stopped fucking you. 

"Toy or cock princess?" Ten caressed your face with both hands, lips so close that you were dying to kiss him. 

"Cock."

"Hm," he smiled wickedly. "Doyoung, you heard the order."

Said man chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

Kun was quick to slide out and you whined at the sudden emptiness. The toy passed from Doyoung's hands to Ten's and for a moment you wondered what they would use that for now. 

"Ride me, love," Kun looked breathtaking leaning down on the couch. You turned around and straddled his lap, the build-up of your orgasm already gone and you were desperate to go back there. 

You closed your eyes as you sat on his cock again, sliding down slowly until meeting the base with your clit. Kun grabbed your waist and pulled you down on his chest, your nipples starting to rub on his sweater. You loved it but needed his naked body so you slid your palms underneath it to meet his hot skin. He lifted his arms up and threw it to the side, letting your breasts bounce on his face as you rolled your hips. 

A sudden movement made you turn your head behind you to where Doyoung placed himself. His palms soothed your spine and got to your face. You accepted his fingers into your mouth as Kun watched with open lips - just the view of his cock disappearing inside of you enough to make him go over the edge. As Doyoung's fingers gently nudged at your asshole, Kun gladly accepted your nipples in his mouth, hands squeezing the base of them. 

"Relax, baby. You're doing so well," Doyoung's low voice accompanied his fingering. 

"Fuck," you grabbed Kun's hands, the difference between their movements, gently and harsh, making you unable to think. And you almost forgot about Ten right where the buzz of the vibrator got closer to you. 

"Ah shit," Doyoung groaned through gritted teeth, his tip slowly going past your entrance. "I've always wanted to fuck your pretty ass."

You inhaled sharply at the sensation, Kun stopping with difficulty to give you time to adjust to Doyoung's girth and when you begged them to move again, they didn't hold back. 

It was intoxicating and so dirty that your head was spinning. They fucked you at different speeds on purpose and you were bouncing between their bodies like an actual fuck toy. 

"Such a good slut, taking two cocks at the same time," Ten commented, his hand already palming himself again. 

Kun let his head fall back and closed his eyes, his trembling hands on your waist telling you he was close. 

"Are you going to let Kun cum inside that little pussy of yours?" Doyoung leaned down, grabbing your jaw to tilt your head backwards.

"Yeah, yes, yes," you mumbled nonsense, so close to the edge yourself. 

Doyoung's hand slid to your neck and pressed a little, choking your loud moans.

It all got desperate in a matter of moments, Kun's rhythmic thrusts completely gone and Doyoung's quick snaps to keep you on edge, all until Kun groaned and went limp underneath you. His cum filled you all up as he thrust a few more times riding his high. 

"Not a single baby girl will remain unsatisfied," Ten announced, breath heavy thanks to the spectacle, the toy in his hands finally making sense when he placed it on your clit. Everyone groaned as you clenched on their cocks, Kun's half-hard one still inside of you. 

"Fuck, Ten-," he whimpered. 

"What is it, Kun? Can't take some overstimulation?" his friend teasingly retorted. 

"Cumming-cumming so close-," you fell on Kun's chest and he wrapped your body with his arms as it swung back and forth at Doyoung's movements. 

The latter was also close given his heavy breath and tight grip on your ass. 

"Are you going to cum with me, love?" he asked. "Can't do it alone, understood?" 

"Shit Doyoung-," 

"Understood?" he slapped your ass harshly and you mewled, nodding fast. 

"Keep that in," Ten whispered, adjusting the vibrator to hit the sweetest spot on purpose. 

Kun whined against your face, his cock already hard again inside of you but unable to move. 

"Three-," Doyoung's voice was rough. 

You whined, nails leaving red marks on Kun's shoulders. 

"I can't anymore!" 

"Two-"

Your legs started to shake uncontrollably as Doyoung's cock railed you just as intensly. 

"Cum for me princess," he finally ordered and you almost screamed, the orgasm washing over you so hard that you were afraid you'd blackout. Doyoung came just as hard, his cum filling your other hole to the rim. 

Ten gave you a break and took away the wet toy, his eyes blown out and panting lips. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he whispered. 

Kun's cock twitched inside of you and you let him go, sliding down on his body as Doyoung sat back on the couch, eyes trained on the way you were spilling with his seed. You let your legs drap over his thighs, resting on your stomach as you reached Kun's cock, eagerly taking it into your mouth. Your ass in the air on Doyoung's lap was too pretty to be left alone and Ten was quick to hand the other the toy. 

"Fuck, you're amazing," Kun grabbed your face, looking at the way you pursed your lips around him. 

You were a mess - pleasure tears poking at your eyes, saliva on your chin and cum sliding out of your holes. Doyoung was quick to push it inside again with the vibrator though, loving the way your ass jiggled in his hold under his light spanks. You cried out at the overstimulation then whined helplessly again as Ten spread your legs apart.

"Can you take me as well, love?" he pressed his tip on your raw clit and when you let out a positive moan he slid inside easily with a deep swear. He felt heavenly and his whiny void was by far the sexiest. 

Doyoung stood up to give Ten some room to play in and he got close to your stuffed face. You hummed around Kun's cock and your body shook as Ten gently placed the toy between your ass cheeks as he fucked your tight pussy.

You looked up at Doyoung with glossy eyes and letting Kun go for a moment you let your tongue out. 

Doyoung smiled wickedly and slid his cock inside your mouth.