#porcupine mirror

[shannonofrp]

Front Door Mudroom in New York

Example of a large, modern entryway with a dark wood floor, black walls, and a dark wood front door.

[loveyubrides]

Houston Transitional Bedroom

An illustration of a mid-sized transitional guest bedroom design with gray walls, a beige floor, and wallpaper

[wurstaesthetic]

Hiking from Lake of the Clouds to Mirror Lake, Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park, MI

October 13, 2024

[thesecondhandwoman]

NEW HAIRCUT

Sevika x f!reader

Summary: Your girlfriend, Sevika, decided that it was time for a new appearance, a new her. But, she may have messed up more than intended, resulting in a sweet moment of you being there to help her.

“God, what did you do to your hair, Sevy?” you asked as you walked into the bathroom, intending to check on your girlfriend after her being hidden in the room for hours, only to be met with a hairy mess on the bathroom tile and Sevika holding scissors in her hand, now staring at you like a deer and headlights.

The scissors in her hand were midway cutting another chunk of her hair when they stopped as you interrupted her with…whatever this was.

It seemed like an attempt at a new haircut, but turned out to look like a child who had chosen not to listen to their mother’s warning about not using the scissors for unneeded reasons such as chopping their hair off and suddenly looking like a porcupine, hair up and down, long and short.

“I–” The words for a possible excuse got caught in her throat as she stared at you, slowly lowering the scissors down onto the counter. She caught a glimpse of the cut off hair in the process, staring at her feet momentarily, which made her look like a guilty or even lost puppy before looking back at you. “--I thought it was time for a new look, maybe.”

You stared at her, a tad bit surprised at the fact she wanted to cut her hair. Afterall, she had been growing it out for a long time, but then again, a lot has gone on since then. For example, Silco dropped flat off the planet after the incident with Jinx, Sevika had been taking control of Zaun because of Silco’s absence and the repercussions it had brought, and she had pretty much become a second parent with you now that you both had to watch after Jinx and Isha, the little kid that Jinx found only a few weeks ago (both complete troublemakers, but found family).

“But I am kind of shitty at this type of stuff.” She grumbled, snapping you out of your thoughts as she glanced up at the mirror and grimaced at her poor job in a personal haircut, the strands cut at different lengths and angles.

It could all be summed up to be classified as a mess, but even that may have been an understatement at the moment because of what Sevika did, or at least tried to do.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, a smile creeping on your face as you agreed with her statement. Still, you couldn’t help but also find her attempt adorable, the way she looked like a disheveled messwith that fussy pout on her face, no longer hidden when she looked up at the mirror. But then again, you couldn't blame her for such an expression.

All you could really do was agree with the fact that maybe it was time for a new look, and as her girlfriend, you would be there to help her with it, even if it seemed a bit impossible from this angle. But, it was worth taking a shot at for her.

“Alright, hand me the scissors and hair clippers.” you said with a hum of thought as you walked over to her, inspecting her hair until an image came up to possibly fix this mess on her head and please sevika at the same time with the new look it was going to have.

Sevika arched a brow, confusion written on her face when she saw that specific glint in your eyes, one both imaginative but just as dangerous. But she didn’t question out loud as she carefully handed you the scissors, followed by the hair clipper after she got it out of the bag on the side of the bathroom counter. While doing it, she looked at you from the mirror, slight hesitation in her eyes, but it didnt seem directed toward you, and it usually never was you. So, it had to be somewhat linked with the idea of a new look, maybe even the slight hint of a noticeable identity crisis behind it.

Being able to notice this, you immediately went to reassure her by placing a kiss on her temple and saying, “It will look great on you, baby…”

Her doubtful expression slowly disappeared as she took in your reassurance, a hum escaping her lips as your lips met her temple, a soft smile growing on her lips. “Mm, whatever you say, doll.”

You smiled some more and waited until she was fully coaxed before plugging in the clippers and pushing the button upwards, feeling the way it vibrated against your right hand as the cold metal of the scissors brushed against your left.

As you began to finally cut her hair, the room was filled with the sound of the clippers buzzing against her black locks and the scissors lightly snipping at the remaining ends to clean it up a bit. It only continued for a bit longer until it fell quiet again, finishing up with the clank of both objects being set down on the counter and the sound of you shuffling through the drawers to grab the stored mirror.

“And done!” You announced with a smile, looking at Sevika through the main mirror, waiting for her reaction to her new, fixed-up haircut. You made sure to position the smaller mirror in the process, angling it just enough to see the back of her head where the slight undercut was beneath.

Removing her hands from her eyes (a request you made part way through cutting her hair), Sevika glanced up at the mirror, looking at her improved haircut for the first time. Her expression almost softened immediately, a glint appearing in her eyes as she absorbed her new appearance, taking in the way her hair was much shorter, the strands looking cleaned up, and the overall cut complimenting her features.

All of it caused her a smile to grow on her face, a breathless chuckle leaving her lips as she finally said: “It’s amazing, doll..”

Your smile grew at her reaction, one you wanted so much that your heart warmed with happiness as you hugged her from behind, head resting on the back of her shoulder.

“I told you that it would look great on you.” You pointed out again, beaming at her from the mirror view.

Her smile speaded across her face at your repeated reassurance, now believing it fully as she turned around to look at you. She took your cheek into her hand and leaned forward, gently kissing your bottom lip, allowing you to feel how real her smile was versus just seeing it.

“Thank you, love.” She mumble against your lips, looking down at you with a much relaxed expression.

“Anytime, baby.” You replied before kissing her again, wrapping your arms around her neck gently tangling your fingers into her shorter hair. “Anything to help you out..”

[vanteguccir]

mom! reader (of preferably twin boys) x chris (or matt) based on the indoor zoo video ?

── ୨୧ !　BLURB

chris sturniolo x mom!reader

where Chris's and Y/N's twins make an appearance on the 'we turned our house into a barn' video

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The Sturniolo house was in an adorable state of controlled chaos. Matt and Chris had planned everything down to the last hay bale, receiving help from Y/N in transforming their living room into a cozy indoor petting zoo.

Little Eudora, with her chestnut curls bouncing, was giggling as she raced around the room with a small white duck waddling after her. Calum, the spitting image of his father, clutched a surprisingly calm porcupine in his lap, his face lit with pure fascination as he gently patted its back.

In front of the full-body mirror, Matt was crouched beside a midsized goat, Buster, giving it gentle scratches on the back, while a curious little black pig kept nudging him with its nose, vying for attention.

Chris and Y/N stood side by side, standing in the middle of the living room with arms crossed, taking it all in with warm smiles. Y/N’s hand found Chris’s, and he gave it a little squeeze, chuckling softly as he watched Calum carefully cradle the porcupine with awe.

"Be careful with him, buddy." Chris's voice echoed, breaking the momentarily silence while moving to a cluster of hay bales, grinning as he adjusted the banner that read "Welcome Home, Uncle Nicky!" surrounded by multicolored prints of small hands.

Their cameraman, who was used to the lively energy in the Sturniolo home, was getting every adorable moment on tape, his own laughter blending in with the kids’ squeals of delight as he recorded.

Then, suddenly, they heard the unmistakable sound of keys rattling at the front door. Y/N and Chris exchanged amused glances, and Matt looked up from the goat, a gleeful grin spreading across his face with the twin's reactions.

The kids froze, looking at the adults, and Chris quickly raised a finger to his lips, signaling for quiet. Eudora's right hand flew to her mouth, her big blue doe eyes dancing with excitement as she bounced on her heels, her white dress flowing around her small body with her movements. Calum clutched the porcupine close to him, glancing over at Matt with eyes wide, receiving a wink from his uncle.

Chris leaned forward and called out.

"Hey, Nick! How's it going?"

A muffled "Hey" came from Nick, who had just closed the door behind him. He started heading up the stairs from the entryway to the living room, clearly oblivious to the surprise that awaited him.

Just as he reached the top of the stairs, Y/N called out.

"Careful with the thing blocking the door!"

Nick stopped abruptly, his brows knitting in confusion.

"What thing-?" He began to ask, then froze as he noticed a turtle calmly stationed right by the passage.

His eyes lifted to the rest of the room, widening comically as he took in the scene beyond: animals everywhere, little straw bales scattered, and his entire family - together with an unknown woman dressed in a zoo uniform and their cameraman - caught mid-laughter in a rustic, farm-like setup right in their living room. His mouth dropped open, completely dumbfounded.

"Wha-what the..." Nick started, his words catching as he tried to process what was happening. Before he could continue, the twins finally sprang up, squealing in excitement.

"Uncle Nick!" They yelled in unison, darting over to him, the small porcupine bouncing in Calum's hands.

Nick barely managed to drop his bags with a thud before crouching to his knees, throwing his arms open wide as Calum and Eudora barreled into him. His gaze roamed the room as he held his niece and nephew close, enjoying the warm heat emanating from their bodies while taking in the fluffy chickens clucking happily nearby and the small pig nibbling at a strand of hay.

"What the fu-freak is going on?" Nick stammered, catching himself just in time, though the sheer astonishment was clear on his face. His arms kept wrapped around the twins tightly, and with a breathy laugh, he shook his head. "I’m never leaving the house again."

Eudora beamed, wrapping her small arms around his neck as she squealed excitedly in his ear.

"We made this surprise for you, Uncle Nicky! Did you like it?"

Nick looked down at her, his eyes softening drastically as he took in her excitement, then looked over to Chris and Y/N, still stunned.

"Like it?" He repeated, almost at a loss for words. "I love it! This is insane!"

Just then, Calum piped up, holding up the porcupine he’d been cradling like a prized possession.

"Look, Uncle Nick!" He said eagerly. "It’s a porcupine! Do you wanna hold it?"

"Baby, be careful not to hurt your uncle with its prickles." Y/N was quick in warning the little boy, watching his movements carefully.

Nick’s eyes widened even further as he realized what Calum was holding too close to his face. He quickly glanced over at Y/N, and then at Chris, the fear evident in his expression.

"Uh... Chris?" He stammered, his voice high-pitched with barely concealed alarm.

Chris stifled a laugh and quickly stepped forward, taking the porcupine from Calum’s hands, ignoring the big pout forming on his son's lips.

"I got it, I got it." He said, giving Nick a playful grin. "Only the safest surprises for you, bro."

Y/N chuckled softly, her hand covering her mouth as she watched Nick’s face go through an entire range of emotions. Matt joined in, shaking his head as he pet the goat one last time before walking closer to the others, clearly reveling in his brother’s shock.

Nick took a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face, then looked down at his niece and nephew nestled snugly in his arms. His expression softened into a disbelieving grin as he pulled them even closer, wrapping them in a hug filled with all the warmth he’d bottled up during his time away.

"You two..." He murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to each of their heads. "This might be the best surprise I’ve ever had."

Calum and Eudora beamed up at him, their matching blue eyes alight with pride.

"Even better than the band, Uncle Nick?" Calum asked, his small hands curling around Nick’s tattooed arm, eyes wide with hope.

Nick let out a heartfelt laugh, nodding as he glanced down at his nephew.

"Even better than the band, buddy. Was this all your idea?" He asked, focusing warmly on Calum but keeping one arm wrapped around Eudora, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on her back.

Calum’s face lit up even brighter, grinning from ear to ear before looking over at his dad and Uncle Matt, seeking their approval.

"Well..." Calum started, only to have Matt jump in, flashing a teasing grin.

"You know how it is, Nick." Matt said, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. "We missed you, and these two couldn’t stop talking about going to the zoo all week, so..."

Nick’s eyes narrowed playfully as he turned to Chris.

"And you let him pick the porcupine?"

Chris chuckled, throwing up his hands in defense.

"Actually, the porcupine was my idea, but..." He gestured at Calum with a shrug. "He’s been attached ever since."

"Like father, like son." Y/N's voice echoed full of amusement, her plump lips forming a wide smile. "Do you want some water, Nick?" She asked gently, moving towards the kitchen, receiving a positive answer from the oldest triplet.

For a few more minutes, Nick just sat on the floor, surrounded by warmth and joy as the twins excitedly recounted every little detail from the week - even though they’d already shared those stories over FaceTime, feeling too excited to tell him all over again in person. Nick listened, hanging on every word, giving all of his attention to them.

A soft nudge against his side caught his attention, and he looked down to see the little goat butting his arm. Smiling, Nick gave it a gentle scratch behind the ears, chuckling under his breath at the delightful absurdity of it all. His gaze drifted up, finding Y/N’s across the room. Her eyes were warm, crinkling at the corners as she watched him with a look that needed no words, patting the small bunny in her hands.

He mouthed a "thank you", his expression soft, clearly moved by their thoughtfulness.

Chris’s arm snaked around Y/N’s waist, pulling her close as they shared a quiet, knowing smile, content to watch Nick settle back into the chaotic embrace of the family they’d created.

[torchflies]

How are Jake and the swamp chickens doing? 😍

AHHHH! Funny you should ask! Below is a unedited blurb from the next installment ✨💅😉

COMING SOON TO AN AO3 NEAR YOU!

“You don’t want kids?” Jake repeats, a broken record, as he sags down further in his seat; it’s a slight motion but he does it, he can't help it. The same way he can't help the burn of rejection in the back of his throat. 

Bradley doesn’t even notice, he’s three beers deep and his big hand is resting on Jake’s thigh. A moment ago, that touch felt like the promise of a good time, the promise of something new blooming between them; something that feels like his Mama running her gentle fingers through his blond hair — it always stuck up porcupine-fluffy when it dried after swimming in the Caddo — find a real good person to give your heart to, my Tennessee, someone who wants everything you are. Now, that weighty hand feels like a brand, burning hot like it’s on fire, charring him right down to the marrow of his bones for all the wrong reasons. 

They're done.

They have nowhere else to go from here, and the thing is — Bradshaw doesn't even know it. 

He smiles over at Jake, all big and goofy, his overgrown curls sticking to the sweat percolating on his forehead. His hair is the longest that Jake’s ever seen it; hell, Bradshaw looks like a kid himself: full of naïve joy and hope. Jake can't help staring at the sight, he wonders what that’s like; he’s never looked into a mirror and seen a child’s face looking back at him. 

Envy isn't the right word, no, he feels the same way he does when he sees childish joy and laughter in his kids — he wants that for them; he wants that for Bradshaw. He just never had that.

Jake already loves Bradley in a way that he's never loved anyone else. 

Sure, most folks tend to be particularly sweet on that first boy to ever give them the time of day, but —

But that doesn't matter anymore.

It doesn't matter when Jake’s got five kids waiting on him at home; when he had to bribe Ree with ten bucks and a family-size bag of jalapeño Cheeto puffs to babysit for a few hours… when he's been a single parent for most of his life.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1988 mansion in Oak Brook, IL looks like a former hotel or apt. house (it's not). What I like about it, is that it's not white & gray- it's bold. 6bds, 7ba, $2.395M.

The entrance hall. It's been freshly painted and they didn't make it gray. Glad they didn't listen to HGTV. This emerald green is stunning against the black and white.

This floor sure is lively. I don't know if I like the round pattern in the larger squares, though.

Don't like the dull wallpaper, love the blue cabinets, don't care for the too-busy backsplash.

Moody style dining room. But, it gets natural light from the double doors.

Sunken living room with pink and black accents. Love the purple couches.

Ooh, graffiti wall. What does it say? Loyalties?

The guest powder room needs some more decor. The mirror looks like porcupine quills.

Office or library. Like the cabinetry and ceiling.

Huge family/rec room.

This looks like a home school classroom.

The upstairs hallway.

The primary bedroom is very large. Nice fireplace and carpet.

Like the terrace.

Huge en-suite bath.

Looks like 2 separate closets. One for shoes and accessories. This is nice.

Large secondary bedroom decorated in dots and stripes.

Beautiful bath.

This large bedroom has a coffered ceiling and an en-suite.

The bedrooms in this home are gigantic. This one has a terrace.

Nice pool room.

Nice home gym or dance studio.

Sauna in the gym.

Big home theater. I wonder if the chairs come with it.

The patio has everything. Looks like a cabana, fireplace, pergola with outdoor kitchen, and hot tub.

Bathroom for the pool. This is lovely.

1.03 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/107-Livery-Cir-Oak-Brook-IL-60523/4497402_zpid/

[oceanlipgloss]

POTION

RAFAYEL.

+ about: one summer noon, Rafayel becomes an unwilling part of the cat population. I did him dirty; can he can get an F in the chat?

+ warnings: humour slaughterhouse aka very, very lame jokes (crack is the foundation, fluff is the cement)

What a diabolical creature.

Huge eyeballs, bigger than jellyfish. Staring at him. The eyes of a serial killer or a netherworld monster. Pointy ears, sharper than traffic cones. Eavesdropping on every sound. Gnashing teeth, the ugliest smile he had ever seen.

And now he, too, looked like that.

A creepy cat.

The tiny doodle watched him from its high vantage point on the white wall. Not just a cat, but a smiling cat. Not just a smiling cat, but a demon drawn in black marker. Very hard to ignore.

He could not bear to glance at the mirror. For the first time. Plum fur shot up in spears and spikes, likening him to a downy porcupine.

A glass of soda floated into his thoughts.

Cool droplets flowing down his throat.

Lying down on the floor.

Falling asleep in the summer sun.

Waking up.

A gnarly cat.

Potion.

Somehow, somehow, he had drank a potion, shimmering and clear.

Thirst sure has its perks.

Where had that stuff even come from?

Familiar in flavour—bubbles and lime.

Even as an artist, he thought about how that was all much too surreal. Absolutely wild. Truth be told? A concoction of nightmares combined.

Violet cat. Nice colour palette, but useless paws. Unable to hold a paintbrush. What meaning was there to life now? Would she accept him for he had become?

The insecurities were a terror.

Dramatic as he was—rightfully so, for once—he had screamed at the top of his lungs. The only sound that rang out in the messy studio was the loudest cat noise he had heard to date, however.

A shrill meow.

This had to be some sort of eldritch curse or divine punishment, didn’t it?

The God of all cats was avenging those backstabbing furballs for the endless slander he had subjected them to. It’s all his doing, yeah?

When plagued by anger or fright, cats hiss. Now a wrathful cat himself, he hissed as well.

Familiar hands, scooping him up.

So weird.

Her palms, warm against his sunlit fur, but also much, much bigger. To his newfound bundle of a form, that was too unfamiliar; she had always been shorter, smaller.

No sparkle of surprise.

Was the potion her plan all along? Start location: sinister doodle on the wall.

Nothing made sense.

Actually, naked walking jellyfish, tree-climbing sea turtles, and grass-eating sharks would’ve all been way more credible.

Inspiration!

Facing his reflection wasn’t an option, but he so desperately wanted to make sure this wasn’t a figment of a sick hallucination, so he almost had the urge to say, ‘draw me like one of your French cats’ just to see if he had now really become a member of the world of felines—but his tongue could only muster cat-voice.

Instead, a pop of colour gleamed in his mind.

He wanted her attention, and cats like affection. Why not make use of the situation? Blame it on the catty qualities later.

With shiny eyes he would have liked to ask, ‘would you still love me if I was a cat?’

The perfect answer and just what he was longing for.

Warm fur pressed against her neck. Fingertips tickled a soft stomach. Giggles chimed in pointed ears. Mellow weight on her chest.

So much doting. Her lips kissed the tip of his eraser-pink nose. Compliments poured onto his head like paint in all colours.

He felt really, really hot. Fur, glee, embarrassment.

Cats can’t blush, but in his flustered mind cherry-red mingled with plum-purple on the tips of his ears to gleam like crystal powder.

An unusual picture.

Steady, steady. Her heartbeat was steady. His heart raced into next week. It was worse now, though. Cat hearts double up the speed of human ones. Drowsy with sunlight.

What a long, long day.

One good thing came out of it.

Love. So much love.

Once this nap ends, will he have two legs again?

Summer sunshine would butter his studio pale yellow and bright white by then. He would be sprawled out on the floor, sketches scattered all over. The cat would continue to stare at him from on the wall.

The cat.

Everything was that weird cat’s fault. Those big, evil eyes followed him as he painted, stalking his every movement and creation. He hated it so, yet did not have the heart to erase it. She had climbed up there and drawn that little traitor.

What a silly, hideous thing, haunting his subconscious.

What a diabolical dream.

+notes: dude, I can't believe that my first Rafayel fic is...*flailing hands* this. Something so silly...listen, memes and silly crap occupy an entire apartment complex in my brain, but what did I actually just write? No fucking clue. 0. Null.

All I know is that this is my first ever crack fic. And at the time, I thought it would be funny. Now I don't know if my opinion still stands. I merely wrote this in 3hrs 17mins. Not even a 4hr timeskip between coming up with the idea and writing it. I was that excited for the crack.

Was it worth it? No, maybe. Yes, perhaps. Idek. However, I'm not sorry for making fun of Rafayel, of course. Affectionately bullying him and being sadistic happen to be favourable pastimes of mine. I love him, bro.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©���𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 13

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fortifying effects of Nia’s pep talk lasted throughout the car ride, and it wasn’t until Lena was actually standing outside Kara’s front door, doughnut box in hand, that reality abruptly reasserted itself.

What was she doing?

It was all very well deciding she could remain detached for this conversation from the neutral territory of her own office, but now she was actually here, mere feet away from the woman who had broken her heart and about to raise a subject that would come closer to picking at that wound than anything had since it had happened, it felt foolhardy in the extreme. What if talking about it, even indirectly, really did trigger something that she would prefer to stay dormant? It was a very real possibility, and Lena didn’t want to be pushed into jumping one way or the other on offering a genuine second chance right now, because she was afraid that if she was she would choose to walk away again, and she wasn’t ready for that.

Not yet.

Not until their work was done and Supergirl was once more flying about National City and making her righteous, hypocritical speeches, hands on hips like she had been practising her power poses in the mirror (She probably had. Kara was such an adorable dork).

No, she wasn’t ready to let the complication back in.

She would slip away quickly, and when she got back to the car she would call Alex to come and talk to her sister after all. No one ever needed to know she had even-

The front door opened, and before Lena could so much as twitch Kara Danvers was standing in front of her, feet bare, hair secured into a messy bun with a paintbrush, small smudge of blue on one cheek, and a surprised smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. How was it fair that she looked so effortlessly cute just when Lena needed to keep a level head?

‘Lena! I heard something out in the hall and thought Mrs Warren’s cat must have got out again, but this is so much better than getting in some sneaky Mr Tibbles belly rubs. Come in, come in! And are those doughnuts??’

Oh well, looked like she was doing this.

Lena let herself be ushered inside, then presented the patisserie box to Kara with the dramatic flourish of a second rate stage magician (not that she was over playing how totally normal and at ease she felt or anything).

‘These, Ms Danvers, are no mere doughnuts. They are in fact in contention for the most elaborate, highly decorated and candy covered doughnuts you will find this side of New York. One of them is the cookie monster. With actual cookies.’

(Well, maybe she was over playing it just a little bit).

‘Ohhhh, you are my favourite. How did you know I needed a cookie monster doughnut in my life today?’

Kara took the box from Lena’s hands and immediately began exploring its contents, pausing to exclaim over the unicorn with the marshmallow horn and a rather fretful looking chocolate porcupine before settling after all on the giant cookie monster, complete with mouth full of cookies as promised.

Lena didn’t answer her right away, at first because she was trying to find the right words to broach the subject, and then because her attention had caught on the easel set up by the window. Kara rarely allowed anyone to see her works-in-progress, and even though it was so clearly unplanned, this unexpected glimpse into what was usually such a closely guarded process felt like an honour.

At a glance the painting seemed to be an unbroken, featureless blue, but as she looked Lena realised there was a subtle variation in the colours – a slightly darker shade on one side that lightened at the centre, with the most delicate hints of apricot and rose feathering in towards the far edge. There was texture there too – faint wisps of white that suggested clouds, and a faded crescent, like the moon after dawn had broken but before it dipped below the horizon. It was beautiful, but it was... different.

Kara tended to paint landscapes – fantasy landscapes, so Lena had always assumed. She had tried asking about them once or twice, but had been met with hedging and awkward subject changes. She had thought that her friend was simply private about her art, or even mildly embarrassed about her fascination with painting made up scenes rather than real ones, and had tried to drop in casual mentions of sci fi books she had read to let her know that her secret brand of nerdiness was fine by her, but Kara still never fully relaxed until the conversation had well and truly moved on.

Reframed with the knowledge she now had, she realised that Kara didn’t paint fantasy landscapes at all. She painted Krypton. Over and over again, she recreated her vanished home, preserving her memories of somewhere she would never see again the only way she could. Only now she had lost even that small connection to her heritage, she was left with nothing but a vague sense that something “up there” was important to her, and it made Lena’s heart ache for her. It felt too familiar, that quiet yearning for something you couldn’t quite place.

She had been so young when her mother died, she almost didn’t remember her first home at all. There was just the odd fragment of disjointed moments, mingled with snatches of sense-memory. The smell of woodsmoke and wet earth intertwined with a sweet, buttery flavour she had never found an exact match for since; a hummed lullaby in a voice that was both bone-deep familiar and too distant to recall how it sounded making words; the warm surety of arms that reached out to catch her as she stumbled and swooped her up into the air, turning her fall into flight before she could hit the ground…

She wanted to ask Kara about the sky painting, to understand exactly what it meant to her (she wanted to understand all of them now she realised they weren’t made up, but of course Kara could no longer tell her about any but this one), but she held back. It wasn’t what she was here for, and now she had resolved to have this conversation, she needed to get on with it right away or she would talk herself out of doing it at all.

She returned her attention to Kara, who had finished her first rapturous bite of doughnut and was now sucking icing from her thumb and looking back at Lena with a quizzical expression.

‘Well actually… Nia sent me. She said you seemed a bit upset after your talk today, and thought maybe you could use a friend.’

‘Oh no, she picked up on that? I thought I was managing to be so cool about it!’

‘She said you didn’t finish your doughnut.’

Kara huffed as indignantly as she could through a chocolate chip cookie.

‘That doesn’t mean anything, I leave things sometimes! I might just not have been in a doughnut sort of mood.’

She didn’t say anything, but Lena’s raised eyebrow in the direction of the semi-demolished cookie monster got the point across. Kara Danvers had never once not been in a doughnut sort of mood, except possibly when she was actively dying. And even then, chances were 50/50 that she just fancied potstickers instead.

‘Well... she didn’t know that. Did she tell you what it was we were talking about?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you already knew that-?’

‘That Nia is Dreamer? Yes, I’ve known for a little while now.’

‘Oh.’

Kara moved over to the couch and slumped down onto it, like the weight of her own feelings was suddenly too heavy for her. It was a pose of abject misery, but she didn’t put down the doughnut, which Lena figured was a good sign.

‘I didn’t realise you guys even knew each other that well. How come she told you and not me? Did I do something to make her think I would react badly?’

‘We don’t, really – through you more than anything else. But it wasn’t like that Kara, I just put the pieces together after seeing both Dreamer and Nia at the DEO while I was working on this project with Alex.’

‘That figures. You’re an actual genius, of course you would have realised right away.’

Lena winced internally. Some genius. She had been best friends with Kara for years, as well as having frequent up-close-and-personal encounters with Supergirl, including but not limited to being carried in her arms with their faces mere inches apart, and yet still somehow hadn’t cottoned onto the fact that they were one and the same person.

What a waste she had made of being carried by Supergirl before their rift. If only she’d known it was Kara she was cuddled up with, she’d have-

But no, she wouldn’t have. Kara never seemed to notice all the times she had flirted outrageously with her throughout their friendship, and Lena would never have jeopardized what they had had for the fleeting excitement of a mid-air make out with a best friend who was in all likelihood entirely heterosexual.

In any case there was no point in dwelling on what was past and would never come round again. This wasn’t about her and Kara. It was about Kara and Nia.

Lena put the doughnut box down on the table in front of Kara and went to sit beside her, not quite touching, but closer than they usually sat these days.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No… Maybe? I told Nia how happy I was for her. And I am, I really truly am, and I’m glad she told me. I guess I just feel a little weird about it. I get that it’s this huge personal thing, but I can’t help wondering why she didn’t feel like she could trust me when all the rest of our friends knew. I know they’re mostly DEO so it’s a bit different, but… I don’t know. I guess it just makes me feel like the outsider. Like I’m not this cool, powerful secret agent so it doesn’t even matter what I know. I thought Nia and I were closer than that.’

Lena should have felt vindicated, smug even. Happy that Kara was now feeling some measure of the pain she’d caused Lena, even if on a much smaller scale. But she didn’t. She just felt sad.

For Kara.

For Nia.

For herself.

For the whole tangled web of truth and lies that they were all now so inextricably ensnared in that Lena could no longer see which thread was supposed to hers. She could just see Kara, and the pain and confusion in her eyes as she struggled with feelings she didn't have the full context to understand.

She found herself stepping almost without realising it into Supergirl’s shoes – giving all the same arguments that she herself had dismissed when Kara had tried to explain why she had kept her own secret for so long. That it wasn’t about trust, it was about safety. That knowing something like this could put both of them in danger, and by hiding it Nia had been trying to prevent people using Kara as a game piece against Dreamer. That Nia had probably been afraid that she had waited too long, and now Kara would hate her for not telling her sooner, and she couldn’t bear to lose her.

The irony of what she was saying and who she was saying it to was not lost on Lena, but somehow, although they were old and tired to her now, telling these things to Kara made her feel the truth of them in a way she never had before.

After all, was she not doing something similar, even now? She had no choice but to keep Kara in the dark about her Kryptonian identity, but that wasn’t the only secret she was keeping. Kara still didn’t know that she had deliberately sabotaged her happiness at Catco, and Lena knew as surely as Supergirl must have that if she revealed this truth it would end the way things were between them. And she didn’t want to lose Kara yet. So she didn’t tell.

She didn’t tell, and it ached and festered inside her like rotten tooth she refused to spit it out, but she would rather keep it close than accept the gap that would be left by letting go. Instead she focused on the present, and on Nia and how much she clearly cared about their friendship, and Kara listened to her in a way that Lena hadn’t been ready to do when she had been the one in her position. Eventually Kara sighed, and allowed herself another bite of doughnut before conceding.

‘I know you’re right and I’m not being fair. I just can’t help feeling so out of the loop. I don’t even really know why – whether it’s because of things changing at Catco or because Alex and Nia and everyone seem to be so busy at the moment, but it’s like something has shifted for me recently. I feel so frustrated and so limited in what I can do. I think if I’m honest… maybe I’m a bit jealous of Nia. I mean yesterday she was like me – just an ordinary woman doing her best to make a difference through her writing in spite of Andrea’s new ‘sparkly media’ vision, and today? Today she’s this awesome kickass superhero who’s out there every night fighting crime and saving the city while I’m making boil in the bag rice and watching NSYNC videos on Youtube for the millionth time. Does that make me a terrible person?’

‘Of course it doesn’t. It just makes you human.’

And you were never meant to be just human.

But she couldn’t explain, so she offered comfort in the only way she could think of. She reached out across the unacknowledged barrier of physical space that they had so carefully maintained over the last several weeks, and pulled Kara in very gently against her side. After a moment of stiff surprise Kara relaxed into the embrace, allowing her head to find a resting place in the crook of Lena’s shoulder.

Lena waited for the pain and anger to rise up in her at the breach of this protective buffer, for her to have to fight the urge to push Kara away again and leave the apartment. But it never came. Her arm settled comfortably around Kara’s shoulders, and it was as though a piece of her that had been missing for months slotted back into place. With a pang, Lena realised that no one had really touched her since before Lex had revealed Supergirl’s identity. Not properly. Not like this. It simultaneously soothed and inflamed her need for physical contact, and it was all she could do not to pull Kara closer still.

She closed her eyes and let her cheek rest against the top of Kara’s head. She just needed a minute. Just a minute for this to be enough, and then she would turn her focus back to where it was meant to be. Project Atlantis. Restoring Supergirl and ending this brief, beautiful bubble of time when she could be Kara’s best friend again without all the history and hurt.

Just one more minute...

‘Thank you Lena, I’m so glad I have you to talk to about this stuff. And I guess now I can understand better where you were coming from about our thing.’

Lena tensed immediately.

Had Kara just remembered the real reason for their fight? Could this indirect trigger really have been enough to bring her own memories along with it, and without any sign of a neurological episode? Was all of this just… over?

She could barely get the words out, but she had to make sure.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sorry, of course I know it wasn’t the same as finding out someone is secretly a superhero, but I guess it just gives me some perspective, being the one on the other side of a secret. It is not the greatest feeling in the world, and I know it must have been worse for you because I was supposed to be your best friend, and I still lied to you for such a long time.’

The simultaneous rush of relief and crashing disappointment was dizzying. Kara didn’t remember. Whatever she was talking about, it wasn’t her Supergirl secret.

Then what was it?

The part of Lena that desperately wanted to find out Kara’s version of their fight warred with the part of her that just as desperately wanted to leave it alone so they could go on as they were. She should try and find out, of course. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than the truth, and it wasn’t real in any case… but even if she wanted to, that was easier said than done. They had had a huge fight about it and almost parted ways for good, it was hardly as though she could claim the details of what it had been about had just slipped her mind for a moment. Especially when Kara had tried to talk about it before, and Lena had been the one to shut the conversation down. Besides, hadn’t she been right to do so? Things between them had been great since then, and who knew what would have happened if they had opened the can of worms that was their history? They might not have stayed close enough for Kara to keep co operating with her treatment. And alright so maybe she didn’t need to be cajoled into the Q-Wave sessions anymore, but if anything that was all the more reason to keep Kara on side, just in case she needed to ask her to do something else later on.

The arguments for each side went round and round in Lena’s head, neither one gaining enough ground to decide on a course of action, until at last Kara pulled away and looked at her with a worried frown, apparently sensing the change in her mood.

‘Are you alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up after what you said last time. Please don’t be mad at me again.’

She couldn’t ask. Not now.

‘I won’t. I’m not. I’m just – I’m glad we found our way through that. I really thought our friendship was over, and I was just thinking how glad I am that I was wrong.’

Kara relaxed, though she didn’t resume the cut short cuddle.

‘Me too.’

Trying not to mind the loss of Kara’s warm weight against her side, Lena stretched as casually as she could, and leaned forwards to choose a doughnut of her own.

‘Shall we watch a movie? Your pick.’

‘Oh yes, a movie night would be the best! Maybe we could invite Nia as well? I feel so bad about how I reacted earlier and I want to make it up to her and let her know that I really really do support her as Dreamer.’

‘I think that’s a great idea. Why don’t you give her a call, and I’ll make a quick supply run. Wine, chocolate, and popcorn?’

‘Sounds perfect.’

[jina-juhi]

Birthday.

~Kim Namjoon x female reader.

Playlist for this vibe~

• Birthday by Ten.

• make me feel by Elvis drew.

• bad drugs by King Kavalier.

• codeine by solv

• dangerous hands by Austin Giorgio.

• your body by Jimmy brown, Rovv.

Authors note :- Hey guys this is jina, introducing @covertlydark, she's my friend and from now on we both will post our content on this page. hope y'all enjoy

• Reader's pov •

"Okay, This one?" my husband asks the same thing maybe for the sixth time for the night, his voice flat and heavy.

"Noo, we'll watch this some other day. I'm not feeling it right now." My voice lowered on its own at the end of my response when I heard his exhausted sigh. But he still manages to be patient with me.

"This one? This better be the one."

"Nope. Already watched this one."

"Without me?" He raises his eyebrows at me.

"Namjoon, we watched it together." I deadpan.

He scratches his head. "Oh yeah, right. I have an idea, you stay here to get ready, and decide which one you wanna watch while I prepare the table for us, the food is here and the cake is already waiting in the fridge."

"Okay." I smile at him and at the way his brain makes quick decisions and plans, a major contrast to my indecisiveness. He mirrors a smile and his lips brush against my cheeks and give me a quick kiss.

I bury my face in between his neck and shoulder, inhaling his fresh scent of soap and shade of spice and musk. My favorite combination. His mouth touches my bare shoulder and I can feel the curve in his lips against it.

"Go wash up, birthday girl." his husky voice and hot breath fell on my skin leaving a thrill in my spine.

"Be quick or I'll eat the cake myself!" he got up and sang on his way out of the bedroom. I shake my head at his goofiness and stretch my arms on the empty bed, squealing in content.

I hop into the shower and try my best with a little time in my hands. The insta-routine with all that exfoliating and shaving always takes a toll on a girl.

I hear the ringing on my phone after I'm dressed, Seojun's name on my screen, a friend who is also my senior colleague. A frown grew between my eyebrows because one thing that Seojun surely does not do is call after working hours.

I answer while I mindlessly flatten my black flowy dress and fiddle with my necklace, Namjoon gave me last night. It is the prettiest piece of jewelry I ever owned. He slipped it around my neck while I slept in his arms last night and I woke up with a shiny turquoise stone sitting on my chest.

"Happy birthday!" a scream drills my ears from the other side of the line and then an apology, not for me but for a really angry lady. I laugh at her carelessness. "Thank you for the wish, not for the hearing aid bill."

"Oh come on. Why didn't you tell me it's your birthday? I thought you were on leave because you were going somewhere. Jin told me with a cocky-ass grin on his face. I wanted to know it from you not him..." I tune out her blabbering.

I exhale a breath annoyed at the fact that I specifically warned him not to tell anyone. But it's too late now I think he went around the office with a banner of that information because I could hear my notification box exploding.

I don't like it when too many people know about my birthday. It gets overwhelming with all the wishes and responding to everyone with an equal amount of emotion so that the person wishing me does not think I am not grateful or something. I am. I really am, the thing is I don't know how to react to them.

My excitement for my birthday is as same as my excitement for hugging a porcupine. It is just a normal day for me, not for my husband. He is filling the gaps in my lacking enthusiasm because he has got tons of it.

"...and then you know what he told me? He told me that I am not that important to you!? the man really got some nerves to say that on my face. I swear-"

"Okay okay! Calm down. You can discuss him some other time." I huff.

She scoffs and then grumbles, "no one wants to discuss him. Well anyways, I'll be out of your hair. You must be getting ready to go out, right?" exciting curiosity enters her voice. "I mean of course you are. You are THE party girl after all. Wear something sexy, that husband of yours will fall for you all over again..."

Wow, sometimes I forget about how much she talks.

"Seojun, we're not going out. We are just celebrating at home. I wanted to keep it small and simple." I cut in between her chattering.

"Oh." she was speechless after the 'oh'. I know she tried her best to make it sound less pitiful but well she failed. Yes, I've always been the party girl but I guess people change.

I didn't want to go through all that hassle of going out and posting pictures just because I am supposed to do so. I'll do all that when it feels right and when I'm in the mood to go to some fancy restaurant.

"Okay. Well, enjoy your evening. Happy Birthday again." The call ends after I thank her and assure her to call later.

Maybe I'm feeling this because I'm not in my twenties anymore. Am I getting boring? The past-me would be so disappointed, in her eyes, the present-me is lame and boring. If anyone hears this in the office maybe they'll think the same.

You are not fun anymore.

My subconscious screams. I should not have forced Namjoon to stay in today I should have listened to him. What if he thinks-

"Y/N!" I hear his voice anchoring me to earth. "I called your name three times. You okay?" he looks at me with concern but I mask my face with a smile.

"Yes. Just thinking...which one of these should I wear?" I hold up two pairs of earrings while he closed the distance between us in just two long strides.

He changed into a black shirt- with sleeves folded, shriveled up to his elbows- and black pants, looking handsome as ever even in something so simple like this. His hair was perfectly set, not blocking the view of his gorgeous face. He always leaves me mesmerized.

He wraps strong arms around my waist and tugs me closer to him, and uncountable butterflies escape dancing in my stomach. Even after five years of our marriage, he pulls out that effect on me that I know would be the same forever. Every touch, every kiss is like a first. Better than the first.

"The gold ones." his full lips touch my forehead reaping my tiny smile. "Now tell me what is really going on inside this head." he kisses the same spot again.

I sigh against his chest. "How do you always know?" I squint my eyes at him earning his soft laugh.

"Always." he simply shrugs.

He waits patiently for me while I contemplate what to say. "Am I getting boring or... lame?" the question sitting on the tip of my tongue finally made it to my lips.

He frowns and searches for my eyes but I settle them on his chest, and so do my palms. "What makes you think that?" his deep voice pins me with a question. I shrug to lighten the mood, "Nothing it's just the birthday blues hitting me. You know how I was, I used to be the girl who looked forward to going all out and having fun on birthdays. And now... I just don't feel that way."

I finally look him in the eyes and he looks at me with his soft ones with an understanding look. "Now I absolutely feel like I'm getting old." I chuckle lightly.

"Hey... you are not lame or boring. We still go out and have fun when we feel like it. Sometimes I feel the same way, to stay at home and have a good quality evening, just the two of us. That does not mean we are boring people. It simply means we can enjoy ourselves no matter what age we are or the setting is. We are just normal people in our thirties, having fun together in our own way." he finishes with a firm steady voice making me believe every word he said and cherish it, tattooed on my heart.

"Normal people," I whisper out repeating it in my head with a smile. My chest balloons with emotions. He makes me look at things from different perspectives. Good perspectives. He is the anchor of my ship in the vast sea and I will forever be grateful to him.

Now both of us smile. A real one with no masks. He hugs me tightly, healing every tiniest crack in my soul.

"Also," he moves his nose and traces along my neck to my ear. His hot breath rushes on my skin making me twitch with giddiness. "...I don't think boring people do things we do in bed or... kitchen or bathroom. Especially not the ones we did last night and this morning."

My breath gets caught. Eyes wide and lips parted at his low tone. My head replaying what he just reminded me. White silk sheets, whispered promises, his heavy breaths and grunts, his hands tracing the goosebumps of my skin, his tongue on my—

Heat rushes to the south of my body and my face. He breaks the hug to have a good look at my face and fucking laughs at my state.

I suppress my smile and slap on his buff chest. "Now if you are done thinking about obscene things then let's go I have something to show you." he covers my eyes and starts guiding me through the hallway.

"Nomjoon I don't think covering my eyes is necessary."

"Shh. Ofcourse it is. Just walk." We enter and stop in I suppose the living room.

"Okay now, ready?" He finally says.

"Yes!"

He removes his hand and back hugs me while I open my eyes taking in the view of the living room. I gasp at the beautiful set-up he arranged, a canopy decorated with tiny fairy lights and cushions scattered under it and my favorite duvet.

He set the dinner table with plates and my favorite food, a bottle of red wine and glasses sitting next to them. Bunch of scented candles here and there, radiating warmth and light in the darkest of corners just like he fills my life, my soul, with his presence.

"Happy birthday, baby."

The pressure builds behind my eyes and in my throat constricting my words. I blink a few times to drive out the moisture in my eyes.

He settles his chin on my shoulder maybe waiting for me to say something but I'm speechless at his gesture.

"You like it?"

Like? "I love it, Namjoon. All this... It's so beautiful." my voice shakes with emotions.

"Thank you. So much. This is perfect." he turns me towards him, "glad you love it."

I lace my hands on his neck, raise on my tip-toes to make up for our height difference, and lock my lips with his soft ones. He sucks in a breath and yanks me flushed against him to deepen the kiss. His sweet taste invade my tongue.

Namjoon groans, and his hand fist the locks of my hair. His lips glide on mine and our chests glued to each other running out of oxygen. He brushes his lips against mine one last time. Breaking the kiss before it gets heated and we end up in the bed like always.

"I love you," I say in a daze.

"I love you." He says back his eyes gleaming in the candlelight and his face glowing with a golden tint. He is fucking perfect. He completes me. Every crevice in my life. We complete each other.

We sat at the table for our evening candlelight dinner. He opened the wine bottle with the cork opener and poured the content, an action that had no right to be that sexy.

"Enjoying the show?" he raises an eyebrow at me.

I hide my smile behind the glass. "Hmm, maybe." I sip the rich red liquid while soaking in the hard work he put into all this. "How did you do all this on your own? How long was I in there, four hours?"

He rasps out a laugh. "One hour. You were in there for one hour, thank god i completed it way before you walking in on me trying really hard to figure out how the hell am i supposed to hang that thing." He gestures towards the dreamy canopy. I would have loved watching him do that.

"Do you know what the most shocking part is? I didn't break anything today." He jokes. "Wow, that's a new record. I'm impressed, Mr. Kim." Our chatter and laughter mingles with the cozy air around us. We finish off what I call, the best meal I had in a long time. He sang me the birthday song while I cut the cake, his goofy playful side returning to him.

These are the little moments I treasure the most in our relationship. No grand gestures, no phones, no office talk, just us. I'll never be tired of this. Of him.

We settle ourselves under the canopy net after dinner. He brought his laptop to watch some k-drama or a movie. "Decided what you want to watch?" he asks me. "Yeah. Since today is Monday I think the new episode of the one we were watching is out by now. I'm so excited to watch that only three episodes are left."

We cuddle under the duvet. I feel safest and comfortable when he cuddles up and grips his arms around my tummy.

His chest moves subtly against my back. I feel every rumble in his torso when he laughs at something comedic. I barely pay attention to the drama. I miss reading the subtitles when the main character said something important about the story. I rewind the scene, "sorry I missed what he said."

He hums and kisses on top of my head. The scene replays but I get distracted yet again when my husband ran his hand on my stomach to my hip, giving it a squeeze before resting it there.

Well, this was not the first time. It is almost normal now. Almost, because every time he gets my mind fogged up.

I replay the scene again this time without saying anything and he too stays quiet. His hand grazes the texture of my dress, resting right on the curve of my thigh.

My mind is blank. Laser focused on his touch. And for the third time, I watch the same thing.

Great. Fucking great. I can't even read the damn subtitles.

"Can't read the subtitles, honey?" he reads my thought in a subtle mocking tone above my ear and my chest tightens.

"He is... talking too fast it's impossible to read that much within seconds." I justify after clicking pause on the screen. He hums in response in a way of saying, 'yeah right'. Not buying any shit. "What? unlike you, I have to pay attention to both the subtitles and the scenes."

Of course, living with him I have improved my Korean but I am not perfect at it.

He chuckles in his deep voice which always sinks into my heart, as deep as it is. "He barely said ten words." And just like that, I'm caught. Thick silence surrounds us, turning up the anticipation.

His lips skim over my neck. I am quiet but the sounds of our breathing fill the air.

He kisses the soft spot on my neck while his hand moves further to the hem of my dress. It takes him no time to find out that I'm already wet for him because I skipped wearing my underwear.

I exhale sharply when his cold fingers swipe between my folds. He groans in my neck, "Fuck. No underwear?" His voice is strained and breathy sending a shiver down my body. "There is no point in wearing one." I manage between my pants and focus back on his fingers working in the slowest circles.

"You're gonna kill me if you keep saying things like that so innocently."

I turn towards him to meet his mouth with mine. He props himself over me. His tall frame consumes my short one. His warmth radiates in the deepest of my soul, renewing it.

He takes away his fingers and I almost cry at the loss of contact. I whimper between our kisses. Namjoon kissed me the same as he fucks me, rough with a burning passion. Claiming me all over again.

"Take this off." He commands tugging on the cloth and making me sit. I collect my hair to side them and he took the hint to unzip me. He drags the zipper down taking his sweet time, his way of saying- you're not getting what you crave so easily.

In a quick slide, the dress comes off leaving me naked and at his mercy. The fact that I am completely bare before him and he is still in his clothes is so unfair and a fucking turn-on. I can feel myself dripping down. We haven't even started yet.

My eyes flicker down to his pants a huge bulge down his waist. I palm his erection and rub it until his breaths become short and fast. I fumble with the button and the zip to free him.

In a quick movement, he pins my hand above my head making me lay down on my back. The light from the fairy light makes his eyes glimmer. He stares down at me and I can feel the love he holds for me. A love without judgments and conditions.

"Today is all about you."

We exchange a smile. He peppers open mouth kisses on my chest. My heart thumps louder between my lungs. His tongue smooths over my skin offering my breasts his much-needed attention. His tongue flicks, licks, and laps on my hardened nipples making me moan, and giving me intense pleasure in every way possible. His hand made up for the other one twisting it between his fingers.

He reaches to my belly unhurriedly caressing the goosebumps. Sending a buzz of electricity in my body. Every touch, every caress is always filled with possession and lust.

He moves further down stopping just above the part of me begging for his touch. He lifts his head to look at me with a devilish glint.

"Click on the play button." He says.

"What?" I blurt out loudly, it sounds funny. I would have laughed at myself but I decide not to. His smile gets wider.

"Just do what I say, Y/N."

My heart will do anything he says if he takes my name in such a way. I click play and the scenes continue. I look back at him and raise my eyebrows at him to say something that's going on in his wicked mind. But instead of any explanation, he dips his head between my legs and I watch his tongue poke out to flick on my clit sending a jolt of electricity in me. He cursed under his breath when he watched how i reacted.

"You take your eyes off the screen, I take my tongue off of your sweet little pussy." He pins me with a playful look.

"But that isn't fair." My voice wavers.

"It... is" between his words, he licks a thick strip with his tongue from my wet entrance to the sensitive apex with a torturous slow speed and my mind staggers in response.

With hooded eyes I watch his beautiful lips curve up in a smirk as if he can see through my poor soul, what effect that action had in my mind, clear as a sky and the sun of reasoning clouded in an instant.

Well, he will always know what effect he has on me. Also, the sight of his face- with that wicked gleam in his eyes- between my legs, I can't expect anything else.

And I lay in a frenzy no longer able to decide what's fair and what isn't, all I wanted was his tongue on me for a lot longer than it just was.

He tips his head towards the laptop silently commanding me to focus my eyes on it, knowing me very well that I won't argue anymore.

I do what he said. Now, all I can feel is his tongue lapping on the sensitive skin making my whole body shudder and moan under his spell. He pushes one finger inside me. Perfect pressure against my walls. The sensation runs through me like an electric current. Heighten every nerve ending on its way.

The power of a slowly building orgasm force my head to watch what he's doing to me and when I turn, his sharp eyes are already watching me like a hawk.

He stops.

He fucking stopped. All that I was just feeling ruined like a sand castle in a wind. A useless heap of sand was all that was left.

"Need another chance, baby?" he speaks up cheekily. I am mad. Annoyed. It probably shows on my face because he rasps out a laugh looking at me. I will keep this in mind when he is at my mercy.

"Yes."

Yes is all I can say. He resumes working on my pussy after I avert my eyes to the screen barely paying attention to the story. The tip of his tongue flicks on my swollen nub and my hands clutch on the cushion for my dear life. Head trying to stay put.

Soon he adds a second finger and then a third while sucking on my clit. Speeding up and edging me towards oblivion. My breathing is harsh, familiar feeling lingering at the base of my spine.

Long gone the soft moans, and screams of pleasure left my throat. My eyes flutter close on their own.

"Eyes on me now." His voice laced with pure lust and... Oh God, the contact of his heated gaze tips me off the edge. And I come. Hard. While chanting his name and whispering how good he makes me feel. Free falling into bliss.

"That's it. Good girl." He wisphers lowly with a strained voice. My body mourns the loss of his fingers. He looks at me and licks his fingers clean, tasting me. God, this man will be the death of me.

I pant, my chest falls and rises dramatically to catch my breath. It feels like I was drowning and I just made it to the surface.

He closes the laptop with a flip. I'm still in a trance when I hear the clank of his belt. I watch him settling between my legs, opening his button and zipper to free himself from the constraint. Pushing his pants slightly down. My fingers clutched his soft hair. My heart skips a couple of beats waiting and eager for him, banging on my ribs trying to leap out.

He placed the tip of his hard cock ready to be inside me but still not giving in, making me whimper. He kisses me, burning with desire, silent permission for carrying on what we started. He pauses to look me in the eye.

"How do you want me, hm? Gentle... or do you want me to fuck you hard?"

My breath got stuck somewhere in my lungs. Without breaking the trance of his gaze, I snake my hand down to hold his cock, pushing just the tip inside me. "Fuck me. Harder." I say, earning his amused-proud smile.

He sits upright and lifts my right leg to anchor it on his broad shoulder. He pushes inside me completely, inch by inch with a steady pace. It warms my heart that even if i gave him permission to be rough with me he knows It always takes me time to adjust to his sheer size. Both of us moan because of how fucking good it makes us feel. Bodies shuttering as he finally moves once i am ready.

This time he thrusts so hard it knocks the air out of my lungs. His hand trails up my stomach to my breasts, pinching my hard sensitive nipple making me cry out his name.

"Tell me, still think the things we do are boring?" He wraps his hand around my neck with a firm delicious pressure while the other one plays with my breast.

I shake my head unable to voice out coherent words. All I can do is float in the magic he creates. I reach out for him but he is a bit far. He slows down and frees my legs and guides my arms around his neck to be closer to me. He kisses me as if it has been days without it, picking up the pace where he left off.

He is still clothed. The picture of his clothed body over my naked one doing the most intimate things is erotic to me.

Though I want to touch him. Feel him. Closer than we already are. My hands fly toward the buttons of his shirt. Undoing each one of them until my hands find their home.

His muscles ripple and his body shudders when I drag my touch slowly to the south. Feeling every curve of his criminally toned body, finally reaching his ass to feel the intensity of his thrusts. He groans out a curse.

"See what you fucking do to me? You make me so impatient, can't even wait to undress before I fuck my wife's tight pussy."

He slams inside me with immense force. I sob hearing him say these things with such ease. No holding back. His dark side resurface with teasing words laced with sin itself, pouring out of his smart intellectual mouth. It always leaves me in awe.

"Namjoon..." I can't recognize my voice as I moan his name breathlessly.

"I'm so– so close, please." Tears leave my eyes as the plea leaves my lips. His thrusts become more rough and harder. His fingers reach my clit. Firm strokes and overstimulation finally cracks through me. i surrender to the climax for the second time this evening. I lost my count for the day as our morning started early today.

"I've got you. I've always got you, baby."

My walls squeeze him tight. He grunts with every jerk. With a louder moan he finishes and empties himself inside me. I love watching him loose control, how his beautiful face twists while he gives in to the pleasure. The way his heavy breaths fall on my skin. It makes my heart swell to watch him like that. A sheen of sweat makes him sparkle. Both our bodies limp as the energy drains out along with our shattering orgasms.

He pulls out and lays beside me. He grabs a tissue and gently cleans up the hot mess we made. He always insists on doing that even after my half hearted protests.

Securing his strong arms around me he brings me closer to his heaving chest. "Tired?" He asks in a whisper while kissing lightly on my shoulder.

I weekly nod to answer. "Really? I was thinking of another round," he says and we laugh wrapped into each other, both knowing that none of us barely have the energy left to move.

"Enough orgasms for today, Mr. Kim." I mumble. I turn towards him to hug him properly. The back rubs, his breathing and the beats of his heart makes my body relax without any effort.

"So how was your birthday?" his chest vibrates with his question.

I place a kiss on his heart and with a satisfied smile I answer, "The best I ever had."

• Author's note

~ Written by @covertlydark

Hope you like it. Do tell me in the comments if this gave you butterflies lol... or you know somthin' close to it. <3

[icryaboutit]

Mad Hatter! Yuu

Okay! I just updated the story and we now currently have:

Appearance of Chai, Thea, and the Dark Mirror

Iniko becoming a janitor

Iniko mocking Crowley while having a polite smile

Ace showing up

Plot diverging and changing, the reveal of outsider information, therefore causing chaos within Twisted Wonderland, especially in NRC to Iniko's amusement

appearance of a certain redhead Heartslabyul Housewarden and it's vice

the Narrator calling Grim by their name

Ace and Grim passing out

Crowley's mysterious nature(s)

Iniko's show of strength

The appearance of a certain potion's teacher, and Ace and Grim fighting causing them to wash a 100 windows

Tsunotaro

a new friend unlocked

the Narrator's ability to retell and show the past to Iniko

Hello Tweedeledee! Bye bye chandelier~

Dwarf Mine's here we come

Iniko tagging along as the place reminded him of a certain story

Iniko scaring Twedeeledum

Iniko asking the narrator to tell him a story

the idiot trio gets chased by some ghost and a creature

Iniko watching this all with interest

Iniko laughing at their reactions

planning and cooperation of the Adeuce duo with Grim and Iniko tagging along

Iniko showing a little bit of his power and telling them a bit of his origins

Crowley acting suspicious as hell

Iniko being promoted as a student

Iniko receiving an old camera and a magic pen as a result of the Headmage founding out of Iniko's power

Grim is still a student since Crowley had already enlisted Iniko as a beast tamer

Iniko thinking of ships sailing

Iniko be gossiping with his besties be like: -and then he had the nerve to make me, a janitor!

Dark Mirror: Shame! Shame on him!

Chai and Thea: The shamest man!

Iniko: Right!?

***

Students in the background all in chaos along with Ace and Grim who are panicking: What the hell is happening?!?! IS THAT A FUCKING PORCUPINE WITH WINGS?!?!

Iniko who started the chaos by accident: Hahahaha! Look at those morons!

Nararator: Iniko no-

Iniko:

The student body the moment weird unexplainable things started happening:

***

Iniko whenever he goes to his realm through his hat:

***

Someone from Savanaclaw: Do you have a tea set Yuu? Please don't ask why I need it.

Iniko: Only if you also don't ask why.

Iniko: *pulls out multiple tea set with various designs that has everything out of a hat that appeared out of nowhere.*

Savanaclaw student, who thought Iniko was magicless:

Svanaclaw student: *grabs a tea set* This one will do.

***

Iniko seeing Tsunotaro at first sight:

***

Whenever coo coo crow open his mouth:

[true-blue-sonic]

Espio liking a character a bit like Silver just got me thinking.

Espio: Okay, so I'll be honest with you, I want the money because that otome game series Amy got me into is having a preorder sale on figures in a new line of outfits and they finally have one of my favourite boy. *holding up phone*

Vector: That boy, Arianwen.

Espio: Yes.

Vector: The light grey Porcupine.

Espio: Yes?

Vector: And the outfit you want him in is the 'futuristic' themed one.

Espio: ...

"That is all just a coincidence, this outfit is superior than any other they have provided him with so far, he is also rather rare because not many people like him so it is difficult enough to find merch of him as it is-" over Vector's incessant cackling XD

Silver meanwhile would not notice, and once he does, he would not at all see the similarities between Es' favourite character and himself. That is, until Amy talks him into a cosplay one day and he's just like "Oh, Es LOVES that guy :D" while they assemble the clothing, and only once he sees himself in the mirror with his fancy futuristic outfit is he like "huh wait a sec actually". Espio remains quiet about it all, lest Silver catches on after all!

[iorekbyrinson]

thoughts on bcs characters and their pullman-universe daemons

James McGill - Weasel or stoat family. The long sleek shape of the mustelid can squirm through any hole after its quarry, taking down prey several times its size. Folklore associations with being untrustworthy, unscrupulous, despite its diminutive size. Also known as the family from which Pantalaimon, daemon of Lyra Silvertongue, heralds from - associations of the protagonist.

Kim Wexler - Jackal. A desert animal with associations of the howling prairies, independence, a looming threat in a familiar canid form. However, jackals have a little known quality of centring the majority of their social behaviour around a monogamous relationship; marking out territory together, forsaking packs mostly for the pair bond. Cunning, determined, opportunistic.

Chuck McGill - Porcupine. Like all Rodentia, porcupines are intelligent and frugal, not carnivorous by nature but certainly with enough natural advantages. Unusual tree-dwellers that live far above the rest of the creatures on the forest floor, the porcupine's most notorious trait are its barbs, shaped so that they stick in the skin and cannot be pulled out.

Howard Hamlin - Golden retriever. Exactly what it appears to be to a fault, the ubiquitously loved animal has a few significant traits; it is above all a retriever, an animal that works in tandem with a master to seek out prey and skilfully return the prize, and any attempts to isolate this intensely social breed go awry - the animal withers away.

Nacho Varga - Rusty-spotted cat. The smallest wildcat in the world, to mistake this feline for its domesticated counterpart is a mistake; it is a predator of its lands, feeding on rodents and any creature beneath it, and has the hallmark of being one of the most successful predators relative to its size in the world. However, this elusive, nocturnal little wildcat has its weaknesses as a daemon; it will not stop until it is at the top of its food chain, even if it exists in an ecosystem where it will be swallowed alive. It has the typical feline traits of aloofness, independence, and particularly beautiful eyes.

Lalo Salamanca - Vampire bat. Largely associated with the handsome, deadly supernatural creatures of mythology, vampire bats do, in truth, hold blood as the superior tonic above all, and are also vastly social creatures; grooming, feeding, and raising families within a group that has strong ties to family members, but also makes room for non-relatives too. They hunt entirely in the dark. Like most of the bat family, their need to communicate means their high pitched chirps are constant when flying through the night sky. An unusual daemon for an unusual man; be watchful of his reflection in mirrors. It may not always be there.

Gus Fring - Coati. A daemon can sometimes settle in the appearance of an animal of meaning to an individual; and the mercurial and mysterious Gustavo Fring has inferred the coati's importance as much in his fateful recollection. However, the coati is also no insignificant animal; it is preyed upon by nearly every major predator in the Americas, but the coati has a tough hide attached to its underlying muscles, making it extremely difficult for teeth to get a hold. It is a contained and somewhat elegant looking small mammal with a handsome pair of spectacles around its dark, round eyes, and a reputation for intelligence rivalling that of its opportunistic cousin, the raccoon.

Mike Ehrmantraut - Badger. Whether of the European badger flavour; forest-bears of quiet and solitary pursuits, devoted to the burrows of their families, or of the American type, the fearsome ratel or honey badgers that face down mountain lions without a second look, badger daemons carry the traits of strength, perseverance, and an undeniable aggression that make them the animal that never backs down. Badgers construct setts that go deep below the earth, a vast underground system of resources that belies the staid, unemotional appearance of these creatures. Man + mountain indeed.

[atticus-redwood]

Atticus Character Sheet

Appearance:

- 5’4

- Blonde with white streaks

- Shoulder length hair with a random spot on his neck that comes out like a tail

- Dark blue eyes

- Eyebags

- Scar on right side of lip from protecting someone

- Large burn scar on calf that’s super unexplained

- Scars under his chest because his oldest little sister was started to develop and he was trying to explain what was happening whilst forgetting he had knives in his gloves

- Scars under gloves from being hit with a ruler multiple times

- Constant bruised and irritated knuckles

- Brown-red flat cap

- Black fingerless gloves

- Deep brown vest

- Tan preacher collar with red buttons

- Red suspenders

- Pink scarf from his mother

- Satchel with gold embroidery saying “F + A”

- Light gray knicker bottoms

- White knee high socks

- Ankle high dark brown boots.

- A resting death glare

- His hair in a ponytail except the tail

Personality:

Atticus is short tempered, clever, theatrical, sassy, blunt, brutally honest, and a jokester. He gets mad very easily, but to quickly calm him down, give him a mirror. He has his mother’s eyes and nose so it makes him relax fairly quick. He can come up with solutions to problems fairly quickly or figure out the situation he’s in fast. He’s very theatrical in that he exaggerates all his movements, and such them with so much emotions. He’s sassy and petty, not sure how to explain it. He’s blunt, he won’t miss a beat to say something. He says the truth, even if it hurts, not that he really cares that it hurts. He makes a lot of jokes, and is a really touchy person. He’s very much in denial about his sexuality..He displays himself as someone without negative emotions like sadness and grief with isn’t healthy so he’s very overstimulated in the strike. He has a lot of trauma that makes him hallucinate his dead family members, and he tends to be delusional on other things too, so when he’s drunk or sick it’s really funny.

Tendencies:

- Laying down in the middle of a conversation while in public and just continuing it.

- Drawing a lot of stuff that makes so sense

- Smokes

- Drinks

Nicknames he gives to others (positive):

- Lovey

- Dovey

- Flav (As in fav. Yes, an ice cream pun)

- Darling

- Honey

- Dear

- Fawn

Nicknames he gives to others (negative):

- Blunderbuss

- Porcupine

- Rattlebite

- Snake

- Church bell

Nicknames used on him:

- Pinky

- Red

- Atty

- Devil’s Advocate

- Angel of Death

Past:

A whole lot of gorey deaths. He was born into a rich family of 7 in Brooklyn that goes bankrupt when he’s 7. His father would be really pushy that he’s perfect and would hit his wrists with a ruler if he wasn’t. In February, 1892, his father jumps in front of a train with him watching whilst screaming that it’s his fault. A month later, him and his older brother, Riley, are on a roof with his mother, who says she hopes that him and his siblings die soon so she can see them again before backing off the edge. Riley follows suit pretty quickly. Atticus ends up not knowing how to get a job and resorts to stealing, ending up with him in The Refuge with Jack. Though they don’t escape together, they meet again when Atticus escapes and joins the Manhattan newsies at age 9. It doesn’t end well, and Atticus flees to work in Queens, which ends up with him leading them rather than the old, toxic leader. He also finds his now youngest sibling, Elizabeth there.

Picture(s):

[on-a-lucky-tide]

CW: discussion of Lambert's abusive father; links to personal reflections.

I usually lean into the abusive father in a working class setting for Lambert because it mirrors my experience, and I find it cathartic to explore that background and use that personal experience to inform my character writing. When life gives you lemons, right?

But a discussion we had in the CS a while ago has just popped up in my brain. It was about reinforcing the idea of the working class drunk man beating his wife and kids, and how it can add to the demonisation of the poor and/or working class as more inclined towards violence and aggression; a trope that gives me the ick when it's recycled by a predominantly middle class fandom, replete with their tertiary education and perhaps no small sense of moral superiority, without nuanced reflection on why we pluck that particular background off the shelf for our favourite emotional porcupine.

It got me thinking about my own contributions to that and how I allow those harmful stereotypes to propagate, that I need to sit down and think about how I present Lambert's background.

Poverty has been linked to domestic violence as both a cause and a consequence. For Lambert, I often give his dad a skill (mine was a carpenter and carpet layer, so guess what profession the Fictional Arsehole gets in my head), so that sense they aren't necessarily "badly off". Skilled professions tend to lead to more comfortable lifestyles; not necessarily always on the bread line or without shoes, but it also means that the victims are kept in that situation by financial shackles.

They can't afford to leave.

And that's not necessarily something confined to the working class. There are so many women and children stuck in those relationships because the abuser has the money, the property, the everything.

It got me thinking about a slightly different take to Lambert's past. Perhaps he and his mum were trapped there not just by coercive control, but because the alternative was starvation and a different type of exploitation. Give Lambert a "comfortable" home, a gilded cage. Give him servants and maybe a title, with land. The Witcher teaches us that evil and corruption is endemic amongst the powerful classes. Not just in the books, but in the games; who can forget the Bloody Baron storyline?

Why not have Lambert returning home after the trials to a manor house that still haunts his dreams? Finding his mother at peace in the family crypt, and his old man at his mahogany desk, drunken and pathetic? No longer the towering visage of Lambert's nightmares, but a pathetic, shrivelled worm cowering in a high-backed chair?

Lambert's background is so rich for interpretation. I think I'm gonna change it up for a bit.

[brosauce]

Faketober Week 1:

Day 1: Circus (porcupine knife thrower)

Day 2: Sea (sea snake)

Day 3: Mammal (moss rock manatee)

Day 4: Wings (pillow head blanket wing owl)

Day 5: Plushie (alien cow-like plush)

Day 6: Bad Luck (people step on rays & mirrors)

Day 7: Yokai (umibozu octopus)