#the full piece is like three times this frame lol

[staghunters]

spooky jackie wips are sooooo back baby!!

[unknownati]

x. bonnet

a/n: lost my bonnet (rip to my braids) and it inspired me

*a lil sum from my drafts while i force this christmas fic into existence and slooowly chip away at these reqs 😪 and i have since found it if you are wondering

warnings/tags: black!gn!reader, bonnet can be switched out for a durag, silk scarf, etc i js didnt know how to type that lol, ekko's kinda sassy 🤔, bickering but not arguing, fluff...question mark, what is this kind of thing called, rochelle and julius from everybody hates chris kinda relationship, shitty ending idc wrote this at 1am with a t-shirt on my head,

_______________________________________________

a cabinet door slams shut a few rooms over from ekko's workbench, his body jolting at the suddenness of the sound.

"where is this bonnet!?" you shout, clad in your nighttime attire of a t-shirt and sweatpants. this isn't a question new to ekko, you have this problem once every couple of months.

to say you were tired was an understatement. but you'd be damned if you spent hours in that chair getting your hair done just to have it get messed up in one night just because you couldn't protect it. and you've been searching for this thing for 30 whole minutes.

your footsteps stomped around the place, items clattering as you toss them around in wild abandonment in search of this godforsaken bonnet.

"did you check the bathroom?" ekko calls, raising his glass of water to his lips as you pace by his room.

"yes! three times. and even then, i never leave it in there, i always leave it in the same—" a pillow gets thrown off of your bed. nothing. "—exact—" you toss the sheets up. nothing. "—place. i don't get it!"

"then i don't know, baby."

"well, i know i didn't just grow two legs and walk on up out of here!"

ekko scoffs, making a weak attempt at showing empathy. "you have so many bonnets, just wear a different one."

"i can't. that's the only one that doesn't fly off my head while i'm sleeping."

he's amazed at your ability to be so stubborn at the smallest situation. to him, this is nothing but a 'throw something else on your head and call it a day' type of solution.

"can you check your workroom?"

"do you sleep in my workroom?" words full of sarcasm that make your brows somehow furrow even deeper.

"ekko, don't get smart with me."

he sighs, making a half hearted peek around his area. nothing. a shrug. "nothing here."

you keep searching around, looking in the most nonsensical areas for this piece of fabric. under the kitchen sink, IN the kitchen sink, in the shower, in your shoes, ekko's laundry basket, nothing.

you're beginning to just accept defeat, sighing in frustration as you trudge your way back to bed. you pass by ekko's workroom, eyes peeking between the small crack in the door.

pink satin.

atop ekko's head.

"i know you fuckin' lying—"

you swing open the door, snatching it off of his head. white locs fall loose, framing his face. your hand clutches your hip as you wave the bonnet in his face. "ekko, what is this?" you interrogated, an obvious rhetorical question that he didn't have an answer to.

ekko bares his teeth, shoulders pulling into a shrug. he completely forgot that he just...threw it on his head a few hours ago before he started working since he couldn't find a hair tie. "...damn, how'd that get there?"

you close your eyes. two deep breaths. in, out. in out. the second one steadier than the first.

now, usually you were very patient. you understood; things happen. but this? this was your breaking point for the week.

your fingers find the shell of his ear. the sting shoots through the cartilage, skin at his temple pulled taut. he's wincing, sucking air in through his teeth.

"it's like you're trying to test me, huh?

"baby, i'm sorry—" he unintentionally tries giving you his signature puppy-dog eyes. you only tug harder.

"sorry does not cut it. i've been looking for this for 30 minutes, 30! i'm tired as hell, i'm tryna sleep, and here you are playing like shit is sweet!"

...ekko didn't touch that bonnet after that.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

get some on my love

QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader

my masterlist | joel fic recs

This is for @justagalwhowrites' Birthday Celebration for Joel. I picked the prompts for QZ!Joel and breeding kink. It, uh. It got away with me. Title from "Gasoline" by Seether because that's what made this get so feral. Please read the warnings.

dedicated to @covetyou bcus it's your tumblrversary bb! and also because of SWAT, the ultimate slutty qz joel fic that lives in my head and pays rent

words: 1.6k

summary: You visit Joel Miller to get what you need.

warnings: dub-con, dubcon due to sex in exchange for drugs, and he kind of springs the breeding kink on her (but there's not a risk), abuse of prescription medications, QZ!Joel Miller, dealer!Joel Miller, smuggler!Joel Miller, filthy!Joel Miller, breeding kink, creampie, menstrual sex, inappropriate uses of period blood, spitting, pussy pronouns (she/her), vulgar language, god i don't even know it's just nasty and they like it, kind of hate fucking, no y/n, no betas no proofreading no nothing lol

dividers by @saradika-graphics

also on ao3

“Well, well. Look who’s come crawlin’ back,” Joel drawls when he opens the door. 

You scowl. “You gonna let me in or not?”

He leans against the frame, a lazy smirk curling. “Gee, I don’t know. You had some mighty strong things to say ‘bout me last time.” He does step back, though, ushering you in. 

“Pretty sure you said you were never gonna look at my ugly mug again,” he adds as he shuts the door behind you. 

“Yeah, well,” you mutter. 

He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Yeah, well,” he mocks. “Well, what? No one else want that sloppy pussy as payment?”

“You like my pussy, jackass,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah, I do,” he says, cornering you against the door, your back hitting it with a thump. He leers, leaning in. “You know why it’s so sloppy? ‘Cause I fuckin’ ruined it, and you loved it.”

You scowl again, turning your head sharply to the side so you don’t have to look at his smug smirk. The worst part is how right he is. 

“Look,” you mutter, heat rising to your cheeks, “I-I can’t pay today. But I need them, bad. I’ll… I’ll make it up to you.”

It nearly kills you to say. The only thing worse than dealing with Joel Miller is owing Joel Miller. 

“Whaddya mean you can’t pay today? Cunt closed for construction or somethin’?”

You shove him away roughly, ducking out of his grasp to stalk into the living room. “No, dumbass, I’m… bleedin’, you know.”

His responding grin is feral and full of teeth. “I don’t give a shit. Go bend over the bathroom sink.”

“Are you fuckin' serious?”

“You want the fuckin’ pills or not?”

You could scream. Of course you do. There’s not a part of your body that doesn’t hurt. It’s settled into every joint and crevice, an ache you can’t stretch out or shake loose. 

You’d know. You’ve tried. But you’re losing sleep, and the pain makes you too nauseous to eat. His drugs will only take the edge off for so long, but god, you’d do nearly anything for a few hours’ respite. 

“Fine,” you whisper finally, and make your way to the apartment’s tiny three-piece. 

He follows, watching you with amusement. “Strip,” he says. 

You glare, and he shrugs. 

“Or don’t. But I ain’t responsible for what happens to your clothes.”

Oh, fuck him. Fuck him. But you strip—all the way, even though you could have left your top on, but because mother nature has you on her shit list, your usual pain is compounded when you’re menstruating. And when you’re ovulating. Really, so many women don’t even have a fucking cycle anymore from all the stress and malnutrition, but noooo, you were cursed with a fertile fucking uterus. 

The point was that your titties were sore and aching, and the thought of his warm hands groping and pawing at them sounded nice, so off goes your shirt.

He chuckles when he enters the bathroom. “Well, look at that. Eager?”

“Hurry up,” you snap. “It’s cold, and there’s gonna be a mess.”

“Gonna be a mess either way,” he taunts, his hands rough against your hips.

And ain’t that the kicker? There’s gonna be a mess. Your cunt is already sore, and he’s gonna leave a trail of destruction in his wake. 

“Don’t look so grossed out, sugar,” he says, cupping your breasts and looking at you in the mirror. “It’s all natural. Plus, I gotta say, it’s been a long time since I got to do this.”

You’re busy meeting his eyes in the mirror and pulling a face, not catching his last words. He rolls and pinches at your tender nipples, but it’s the kind of pain that sits on the right side of pleasure. As expected, his meaty hands grope unmercifully at your breasts, and you moan in relief at the free massage.

“That’s it. That’s what I like to hear. You ready for me, huh? That greedy pussy o’ yours ready?”

“Uh-huh,” you say distractedly. “Wait—”

“I didn’t forget,” he murmurs in your ear. “Open.”

You open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out. He sets a round, white pill on it and turns your head with a firm grip on your chin, his spit landing right on the pill.

You swallow and avert your eyes as he watches your reflection.

“Get on with it,” you rasp.

One hand wanders down between your thighs and strokes through the folds, working you open with two thick fingers scissoring side to side. He doesn’t spend long there, dragging them up to rub at your clit for a moment.

“Make some fuckin’ noise; I can’t tell if you’re wet or not with all this goin’ on,” he grumbles, withdrawing his hand and showing you the slick blood coating it.

You wince, and he laughs. “Y’ain’t scared of your own period, are ya?”

“Fuck off, ‘course I’m not. Doesn’t mean I wanna look at it.”

He grins. The expression is always unnatural on him and usually heralds something vulgar.

You’re not wrong. He brings his hand up to cup your breast, leaving a smear of blood on your tit. 

“Somethin’ kinda hot about it, don’tcha think?” he muses.

“If you say so,” you mutter, but you can’t look away. It’s striking, blood against your skin that isn’t borne of violence.

The thick tip of his cock interrupts your thoughts as he pushes down on your shoulder. You bend, gripping the sides of the vanity as he buries himself inside with one slow thrust.

He groans, gripping hard on your shoulder. “S’better than lube.”

“You’re so gross,” you say, shaking your head.

“Yeah? Then why’re you clenchin’ around me like a goddamn vice, huh?”

“You always talk this much when you fuck, or am I special?”

“Oh, sugar, don’t flatter yourself,” he says with a slap on your ass. “Y’ain’t special.”

“You—ahh—you hate-fuck all your customers?”

He snorts. “You ain’t even special enough to hate, honey. And you can hate me all you like, but we both know you’re gonna keep comin’ back.”

As you scowl up at him in the mirror, you almost wish looks could kill. But he’s right. He’d be no good to you dead because no other dealer in this godforsaken QZ will dose you in exchange for sex.

As it is, he only lets you once a week. You need more than that? Gotta pay like everyone else. Even when you can afford it, you find yourself back here or on your knees or however he wants you every fuckin’ Friday, because a free pill is a free pill. It’s 3-4 hours you can nap without nearly killin’ yourself to afford it.

Today’s pill hasn’t begun to set in yet, but that’s the other thing about Joel. He’s good at making you forget.

Real good.

His hands are on your body, roughly gentle. He’s not careful with his touch, but not careless, either. He wants you to come, wants you to shake and fall apart on his dick, so he can flash you that little self-satisfied smirk borne of bravado he’s rightly earned. 

And you do. You come for him, with his hands on your breasts and your clit. You tremble and moan and your pussy tries to stake a claim on his cock, clenching and hoping to never let go. But it will, and you will. In the end, you always let go.

He’s a different kind of beast tonight. Panting and grunting in your ear, teeth on your neck, sweat dripping and blending with yours. After he’s rung pleasure from you, he settles one hand on your hip and another on your shoulder and ruts into you like a jackhammer. Like he can’t get deep enough, can’t stop until he’s carved a spot for him within you.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he mutters, pushing you down further. “Fuuuck, darlin’, you want this, huh? You want me to fill you up?”

“Wh-what?” you gasp, air knocked from you with each punch of his cock against your cervix.

“Gonna fill you up good, gonna—nnng— gonna make it stick.”

You reach back and smack him. “The fuck are you—” 

But he doesn’t let you finish. He holds on tight and grinds his dick deep. “That greedy pussy, sugar, she fuckin’ wants it. Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy ‘till she’s full o’ me. And you’re gonna take it, right?”

You whimper, holding tight to the sink while he loses his fucking mind or whatever is happening. You don’t know. It feels too good to question.

“Thas’ it,” he rambles. “Gonna look so good, stuffed up, and ev’ryone—everyone—will know you let me fuckin’ breed you.”

Oh god. It shouldn’t be hot. Those words should be stopping your heart, you should be pushing him away, but your dumb cunt has a mind of its own and holds tight to him, each thrust of his cock squelching as you come around him again. 

“Jesus, baby, it’s been too long, too long since I got to fill up a cunt like yours,” he groans, hips stuttering, “oh shit, take it—fuckin’ take it.”

His cock pulses inside you, and you think maybe you die and go to heaven for a little bit—just a little, because when you open your eyes, you’re still in Joel’s grimy bathroom—but there’s a sweet moment where you think he’s right. It’s been too long. Far too long since a man’s come undone inside you, let you feel that hot burst and twitching, it’s divine, it’s—well, it’s making you come again. 

When he pulls out, you stumble right to the toilet, glaring at him as you try to clean up the mess before it happens. “Gross,” you grumble.

When you look up, the way he’s looking at you makes somethin’ awful churn inside, and it’s not just the apparent buckets of cum he filled you with. 

The silence between you is thick. Finally, he jerks his head to the shower. “Get cleaned up ‘n get out,” is all he says, and the door clicks shut in his wake. 

[simpjaes]

pizza delivery guy!jake delivering reader an extra large sausage pizza 🤗

i hate how funny this is but also

pizza delivery guy jake:

tags: implied sex (not rly super detailed), reader is assumed to be vegetarian lol

Jake looks forward to his saturday night shifts for a lot of reasons, but none as good as you. The girl who orders for her group of friends at eleven at night on the dot, always two veggie pizzas, and always with a big tip.

You were a regular, of course, who he would jump to deliver to solely to see a room full of pretty girls batting their lashes at him despite his minimum wage status.

It got to the point even, that you'd request for him to deliver your food each time you order. Each tip got bigger, bigger, and bigger, up until Jake pulls up with your measly two veggie pizzas in a new car. With a new jacket, and a pretty smile.

What the pretty deliver driver didn't know? The fact that your friends hype you to try and get his number every single time he delivers.

The fact that sometimes you guys get a bit rowdy and tipsy, and go as far as making jokes about corny porno scenarios where he comes in with a large sausage for you, and oh no! you don't have money to pay! what ever shall you do?

It would stay as a funny little joke if it wasn't for the four plus hours of your friends hyping you. Saying, "come on, you never order a sausage pizza, he'll definitely pick up the hint. And if he rejects you, just play it off like a joke!"

You did. You did order that sausage pizza and, well, Jake did pick up the hint.

Driving to your house in silence, wondering why you suddenly added a winky emoji after his name in the delivery requests. Wondering why you suddenly ordered a pizza with an ingredient that resembles a dick. Wondering why he pulls up and you're alone when you answer the door in a scantily clad outfit and a shy smile on your face.

He's stunned to look at you tonight, to be honest, as he dips his head into your doorway with a confused face.

"Where are your friends?" He asks casually, leaning back and attempting to push your pizza forward and into your hands.

You shrug, pretending that they're not just around the corner listening.

"No one showed up tonight, I'm lonely." You play off the scenarios in your head, entirely because you really could just play it off like a joke.

"O- oh." Jake tries to smile at you, letting the puzzle pieces click together in his head. He really thinks you're implying right now. "I, um, I get off work at midnight, you know. If you're bored."

"Wait, really?" You ask, shocked that he doesn't appear to find this corny at all, but understanding far more as to why he offered when you note his eyes staring straight at the sheer pajama top you're wearing....with no bra.

"Um, yeah...if you want." He asks for your confirmation. "I could probably get off early too, it's slowed down a lot."

You smile, nodding to him as you take the single large sausage pizza.

"Okay then..." You say, kind of awkward and shy because you seriously can't believe that worked. "I'll see you in an hour then?"

He nods with a smile, clasping both hands in front of himself as if to hide the semi-hard on in his pants that you definitely notice.

And then he's gone, and you're standing there with a sausage pizza, a shocked face, and three girls rushing to giggle beside you.

♡♡♡♡

Naturally, and against the will of your friends, you have them pack up and leave the typical girl's night with a very sober uber as you sit in wait for midnight to strike.

And when it does? Jake shows up much as he said he would, in a plain t-shirt rather than his uniform, with a curious look in his eye because it does feel weird that he's here without a pizza exchange.

"So..." He says, rubbing the tip of his shoe into the frame of your door.

"So," You echo him, leaning against the frame yourself as you look at him.

"How lonely are you tonight?" He boldly asks.

You stay silent as you back up and flick your head to invite him in, still in your scantily clad pajamas with no underwear on.

"Lonely enough to order a fucking sausage pizza to get your attention?" You laugh, pointing to the uneaten pizza.

He lends you a laugh at that, which is a very nice sound.

"Was the sausage thing for real?" He finally asks when he sits on your couch with you.

"What do you mean?" You try to avoid the question, feeling dumb for even going this route to do this.

"Like, are you asking me to fuck you or do you actually just want to hang out?"

Well.

"Oh, um," You look away from him with a smile. "Could we not work it out to have both?"

Jake nods with a smirk, hand immediately landing against the button of his jeans as he looks at you.

"I think we can manage that."

And well, you do. Both of you do manage that.

You recall the events to your friends the next day, over how good he worked his tongue between your legs, over how good you worked your tongue on him.

They stopped listening around the time when you described the way you rode him right here, in the very spot on the couch they're sitting.

But their ears perked up a bit more at the description of how big his cock was, and how good it felt to have it split you open. Even better when he filled you up time and time again, until about four in the morning when he finally went home.

The best part about this? You don't even have to order a pizza to look at him next time. All you needed to do was snap a titty pic and Jake was risking his job to rush into your house just to fuck you up and against the little table in your entry way.

It's fun really, giving your little pizza delivery hook-up a quickie before his next delivery that will definitely come a bit later than it's supposed to.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

hiii could you do more of Baby!Seonghwa pls?? I loved it and i can’t stop thinking about it since i’ve read it, amazing work btw thanks <3

Medicine

❥Yandere Park Seonghwa x fem reader

➯a/n: this is a work of fiction and does NOT represent a healthy little and caregiver relationship, or a healthy relationship of any kind. i'm back at it with my mommy hwa shenanigans while tweaking with the shells plot line mwahaha

takes place before Baby (you don't have to read to understand but it gives this some extra spice)

✃ "I'd burn alive just for the soft light on your face." -Paper Doll, Flower Face

✫彡wordcount: 3k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ)(¯ ³¯)♡genre: yandere, angst, hurt & comfort

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: stockholm syndrome, periods and period blood(non descriptive), everyone is morally grey, non sexual nudity, references to sh and violence(not towards reader), it's fair to say seonghwa is a murderer lol, jongho and baby bff agenda as hinted at in the first part, more exploration of how the members are affected, one mention of sewer slide, mingi needs a hug fr, not proof read

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

✩index: little space; a regressed state of mind where one feels like a child. hyung; a name for an older male friend or sibling, used by other males.

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

  Seonghwa was certain that he could handle anything you threw his way after five months of being his captive in his care.

      He knew you well, better than he knew himself most days. Even before he had 'taken you home', he tried to learn everything about you to make the transition easier. Some things though- were impossible to know.

     You hadn't gotten your period since before your 'big move', as he called it. He read up on all things womanly to be better prepared so he knew that stress could cause you to skip it. And it did for a long while. Now, though, you were starting to settle in.

     He knew they were painful. But nothing prepared him for the heartbreak when he saw you in the state you were in now.

     He had just gone downstairs to get the mail, but that was apparently all the time it took for you to lock yourself in the bathroom.

     "I don't know what happened, Hyung!" Mingi was just as panicked as Seonghwa at the moment, he felt responsible for whatever was happening behind the locked bathroom door. What if you had gotten into their razors? It would be all his fault... His Hyung trusted him with his Baby and she dashed away before he could even register it.

     Everyone saw the shift in you the past few days, moody and hungry and tired. One of the managers even had the nerve to ask if you could be pregnant. As if Hwa would ever let you skip your birth control.

    "She just ran off! Everything was fine," Mingi continued as he jiggled the knob relentlessly, slapping his palm on the wood while calling out.

     His voice was so loud in Seonghwa's mind. He was so overwhelmed. Scared. Full of rage.

    And then they heard the shower turn on.

    At least he knew you were alive in there.

    "Baby?" He pushed his younger member out of the way and knocked on the door much gentler. "You know you can't take baths alone. Open the door and let me help you."

     There was no response.

    "Now, Baby."

    Only the sound of the water hitting linoleum tiles.

   "Don't make me count to three."

    Mingi backed up at that. He hated when he counted just as much as you did.

    But he didn't have to count, when he heard the tiniest sniff from over the pelting water his body reacted for him. His shoulder came in contact with the door and in the next second he had broken through the frame of the door.

    Mingi looked on in shock, eyes fixed on the metal lock on the door which was still stuck out in place. They followed to the doorframe, splintered open. Then they fell to you, curled up naked on the bathroom floor under the raining water. He looked away at that, turning and crouching down to pick up the broken pieces of wood to busy himself until he knew you were okay enough to leave you in Seonghwas care alone.

      Seonghwa had kneeled next to you, uncaring as the water soaked the knees on his pants. Even more uncaring as he leaned over your face, blocking the water with the back of his head and soaking the collar of his shirt and his hair. The scorching water dripped from his hair to your face as he cupped it in his hands, inspecting you for any damage on the surface.

"Baby, my baby, what's wrong?" The pain in his voice was just as present as the pain in your face. Wound tight like your eyebrows as you winced.

"H-hurts." Was all you could manage, groaning as he untucked your arms from around you to inspect you further. You were fine on the surface.

"Hyung..." His head snapped back to Mingi, who held out your shorts pinched between his fingers, touching them as little as possible. There was a dark spot on them, red and angry as it stained the pattern.

He looked down slowly, eyes meeting the drain as it sucked up the pink tinted water.

ఌ

It took all the convincing in the world from Seonghwas part that for you to remember that you weren't dying. That this happened to big girls every month. Eventually he managed to dry you off after letting the water sooth you for a while and set you up with a pad from the box he's had under the sink since he brought you home.

But then again, some things he couldn't have been prepared for. You told him your periods weren't just painful, they were debilitating. He wished he would have asked you before hand to be more prepared- but now he knows better for next time!

He set you up on the couch with a sock full of uncooked rice that he'd heated up placed on your stomach while he did frantic research on his phone. He peeked back and when he saw you were fast asleep, tuckered out from fighting the pain, he made a beeline downstairs- not even bothering to wait for the elevator and essentially jumping down the stairs.

     He barged right into Yunho and Yeosangs dorm, making a mental note to scold them for not locking the door later on. But for now he was on a mission for his baby.

    "Hello, Yeosang," he greeted briefly as he barged into the room as well, going straight to his shelf of supplements and vitamins. He could only stare dumbfounded as he scooped up what he needed and left. "Bye, Yeosang."

"Hello, Yunho." He spoke as he passed him in their kitchen. He raided the pantry and left with a simple, "Bye, Yunho." The both of them looked on in confusion as their Hyung left the dorm, not bothering to even shut the door.

     "Yah, that's ours!"

    Yunhos yell when unheard -or rather uncared for- as he was out the door just as fast as he came, desperately rushing down the hall as they looked on.

ఌ

That was how everyone ended up in the top story dorm, watching in confusion and anxiety as Seonghwa sat down his stolen goods on the coffee table infront of the couch, careful not to wake you. He went to walk off, and Wooyoung opened his mouth, "is she o-"

      "Shh!" The eldest shushed harshly, shutting him up as he sped walked away.

      "Hey, thats mine!" Another victim of Seonghwas thievery followed his Hyung with a sleepy grimace, blinking confusedly at the scene in the living room.

They had all seen some strange behavior from their eldest member, especially through the past nine months that lead up to this. The day you met was like a switch flipped in his imbalanced mind.

They hated you for that. Or rather, hated the idea of you. Every one of their moral compasses was spun in a complete three sixty when their Hyung kidnapped you those five months ago. He wasn't the same. For the good or bad, you changed Seonghwas live, all of their lives-

For bad, you had been the reason that Hongjoong had to pick dirt from under his nails after covering up one of his best friends sins. You were the reason Mingi had to take a three week hiatus to cover recover from the bruises from when he made eye contact with you. You were the reason that a quarter of their staff had to be paid off when the word spread, just to keep everything from going public.

But then- you were the reason that Seonghwa had started smiling again. The reason he tossed his blades into the river. You were the inspiration to eight different songs in only these few months, one of which was a major break through for them. Your childlike attitude beamed through the apartments.

You brought a certain light to their lives, one that was emitted from the fires of Hell.

They promised themselves they'd be indifferent to you, to not get involved as much as possible for the sake of their own sanity and morals. And yet, here they are.

Gathered in the living room with heavy hearts as they looked over you, silently begging for Seonghwa or Mingi to tell them what was wrong with you.

"Hyung..." Jongho spoke as softly as he could, his eyes couldn't help but fixate on the way you held yourself like you wanted to disappear. "What did you do to her?"

He, out of everyone, was most worried.

He hated this situation just as much as the others. Hell, he was still fighting himself every day to turn his Hyung in- even if their entire worlds would come crashing down. Because he hated to see you in pain. An innocent person suffering because he was too cowardly.

You were attached to the hip the second that Seonghwa let you out of his room. You dashed for the scariest looking member... because he was less scary than the man who snatched you up, who you thought you could trust. You hid behind his arms as everyone else looked on, simply staring in the disbelief of what their once trusted and kind member had done.

Hongjoong was in the same boat, just as troubled as Jongho was with the entirety of what had become their lives. He prided himself in the fact that he was a good person, through and through. He did good deeds when no body was looking, simply because it spread good feelings. All he ever wanted to put in the world was positivity. But when he saw the tears that his best friend caused, his heart made him simply look the other way. You didn't like Hongjoong much. His picture in Seonghwas room taunted you, made you resent him for being so obviously close to the source of all your pain. But he didn't treat you any different for it.

"Park Seonghwa, you promised you wouldn't hurt her like that," Hongjoong sneered through his teeth, ready to grab his only Hyung by the ear when he heard a small grumble from the couch.

You blinked. Once, twice.

And then you broke into a waterfall of hot tears.

"Hey, Baby it's okay," Seonghwa tried to soothe you, only to be pushed flat away from you as Jongho came and took his seat infront of the couch where you were situated.

"Hi, little bear," he cooed, taking you into his arms immediately when you weakly opened yours. He moved slowly as he sat on the couch with you in his lap, but slowly wasn't slow enough to stop the aches from pulsing through your veins on what felt like a molecular level.

It was Wooyoungs turn now to feel brave and stand up to Hwa- well, stand over him as he watched his baby with tears of his own welling up. "She's never cried this hard, what did you do?"

"Baby-"

He was pushed back down as he reached for you, a begging pout on his lips as Yeosang held him down by his shoulders.

He didn't know what had changed in his members but he knew it was shit timing. You needed comfort and calm, not to see your caregiver held down and restrained from you.

A pink sock hit Yeosangs head and he looked up with soft shock written on his features as he met your eyes. You immediately looked down, you still weren't allowed to look them in the eyes and you most definitely didn't want a punishment ontop of natures own. "Don't hurt my Mommy..."

"Honey, did your Mommy do this to you?" Yunho asked as he bent to your level.

You simply shook your head. Were they really fighting over your well-being? Why didn't they do that months ago when this whole fiasco started? You blinked away the thought as another teeth gritting cramp hit you. You hid in Jonghos sweater, trying to quiet down your sobs.

It wasn't all for naught though, as you could hear Mingi finally speaking up when he returned from the kitchen, a baby bottle of juice in hand that he sat down with Seonghwas thieved goodies. "She got her period..." Some of them immediately started cooing over you, and while you couldn't tell who with your head trying to burrow its way into Jongho to hide, it still made your ears feel hot with embarrassment.

"Oh, poor baby," San was the first one to speak, plugging in the heating pad he was robbed of minutes early with zero hesitation, gently draping it over your lower back.

"Get off me," Seonghwa finally snapped and pushed Yeosang and Wooyoung away, crawling on his knees to the couch. "Baby, I've got some stuff to help you but you'll have to come off Jongho, okay?"

You had a hint of defiance in your pain filled eyes as you peeked from the plush sweater you were hidden in. "No, big bear," you put on the cutes and hugged Jonghos neck tighter.

"I know big bear is comfortable," he bit his tongue as he looked at the way you so willingly curled into his youngest members lap for comfort that he should be providing, "but give me five minutes, I need to take care of you."

"Come on, little bear," Jongho sat up as careful as possible, ignoring the tug on his heart as you whined. He cared for you, of course. But he feared Seonghwa more.

Wooyoung couldn't bear to watch anymore, taking San's hand and disappearing down the hall. He used to look up to Seonghwa, now he could barely look in his eyes.

Mingi followed their lead, he wanted to be strong and comfort you, but he simply couldn't handle another second of seeing you reduced to tears. He'd never watch you cry again. His heart couldn't take it. Maybe that made him a coward of a man, but he didn't care at the moment.

That left Hongjoong sat across the coffee table with Yunho, Yeosang lowering himself into the armchair, and Seonghwa on his knees infront of you as you clung to Jonghos neck.

   "Good..." He was certain there was blood filling his mouth from the way he bit down on his tongue. "I didn't want to leave you so these will do for now until I order your own, right?" It was rhetorical-was it? It's not like you had a choice in the matter. But he was so kind that it made your brain foggy. Like he really cared of your opinion for a moment.

    "Magnesium, zinc, and vitamin d," he explained as he took one from each of the bottles. "More vitamin d," he sat the bottle of juice next to your legs. "And comfort," he drug the basket of sweets that he used as rewards for good behavior to the edge of the table and let you take a peek, seeing the new and unfamiliar chocolates on top.

Intrigued by the fancy looking wrapper, you reached out. Seonghwa only put the medicine in your hand. "Medicine first, Baby. Then you can have all you want from the basket."

Seonghwa was a lot of things but he wasn't a liar, never to you.

So, you sucked it up and took the medicine.

ఌ

Later that night, everyone besides Hongjoong and Jongho had returned home (save for the three that actually lived in the apartment with you). Mingi didn't exit his room, not even for dinner. San came and joined movie night after Wooyoung left.

The movie long ended, leaving everyone in the room dead asleep besides Seonghwa. How could he sleep at a moment like this? His Baby could wake up at any moment and need him.

So, he just sat and watched over the most important people in his life. His best friend, laid on the couch with his head on the opposite end as you, curled into a ball with nothing but a stuffed monkey to keep him company. His youngest member, laid on the floor with a pillow to his chest. And San, he was-

"Hyung?"

He was awake. Seonghwa perked up a bit, blinking away that familiar look in his eyes before he turned to the armchair where San was draped in a strange position. "Hyung, you should go to sleep..."

Both their eyes drifted to you, sound asleep. He'd either have to curl up behind you on the couch with Hongjoong or move you to your shared bed.

"You know..." San sighed, almost silently. "I hate you for what you did to her. For what got us here. But I would be lying if I said you didnt take good care of her. You love her, don't you?"

"I love her more than life." It was a declaration that was as easy as breathing. Though he'd never said it out loud to anyone other than you. Until now. Seeing you like that... "I love her. I never want her to be in pain like that, you don't understand, San. I was ready to kill myself if she was dying."

"Don't be ridiculous-"

"I'm serious."

The look in his eyes told him he was was. He would never joke when it came to you. He was always dead serious. He would rather not be in this world at all than be in it without you. "I know you don't understand, I'm not asking you to. But I had to do what I did. I had to do it. I had to."

"I know." And he did. San knew that, by all means Seonghwa didn't have to do what he did. He didn't have to kidnap you and keep you imprisoned in their dorm and buy people off to keep their mouth shut. But Seonghwa thought that he did. His mind had convinced him, and there was no turning back.

That first night, when they found you tied to his bed, that was all he could say. I had to. I had to. I had to. With his head tucked between his knees like a scolded child defending themselves- although everyone was too shell shocked to even say a word until Wooyoung broke the silence with a simple, 'what the fuck.' I had to. I had to. I had to.

"Do you?"

San licked his lips, took a deep breath, and rolled around to face the back of the arm chair. "I know you, Park Seonghwa. And you did what you believed was necessary. I can never agree with your reasoning... but I'll never fight you on it. Take your baby and go to bed. We're all tired."

Seonghwa couldn't see them, but there was fat tears rolling down San's face. He hadnt cried over this. But something had finally faded away and let him. He never referred to you as that. He liked to think you'd enjoy being separate from the life that Seonghwa had built for you. Not that you could notice most of the time, forced so deep into little space that your head felt light and fluffy like a bag of cotton candy.

    He must have finally come to terms with the fact that this was reality.

     "C'mon, baby girl," he heard him whisper, followed by a small groan as you were picked up. He waited until he heard Seonghwas door click. And he let all his tears free fall.

    Seonghwa set your tired form down on your side of the bed, crawling in after you while trying to push away that itch in his brain that was screaming that he forgot your nightly routine. He tucked that little voice away and settled in bed, bringing the soft comforter over you both and melting into his pillow with a sigh.

    He gathered you close as gently as possible and rubbed your back, staring up at the ceiling and listening closely to your breathes as they evened out to quiet snores.

      A smile played at his lips.

    For a moment he felt like everything would be okay. You had your medicine-

He felt you curl closer to his warmth, and he brought his finger tips up to brush your loose hairs back with a tenderness reserved only for you.

-And he had his.

ఌ

[darkmajesty-xo]

Ready Player 1 ? - Shigaraki x reader

18+ MDNI | masturbation, praise , video chats, crack-humor

most would consider it unwise for a girl like you to be in these chat rooms due to the questionable discourse and rather infamous patrons, but girls just wanna have fun right ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: saw an old couple today, could be me and shig but he’s playing ☹️

user2345: i think you mean planning* as in planning world domination and torment of quirkless losers like you.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh sweetheart you’ll never get any pussy if you keep acting like one

user3333: damn bro, you gonna take that ?

user2345: who gives a shit about some villain groupie ?

user2345: she keeps her mouth so full of cum that it’s starting to affect her whore brain.

user2345: do you really think the true leader of the new world would make time for some dumb cunt like you ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: there’s probably a higher chance of tomura shigaraki and i living happily ever after than there is of ANY woman even looking in your direction.

this was a normal friday night, you simping over shigaraki in the forums and clapping back at the misogynistic incels that hid behind their keyboards in their mothers’ basements. but there was one guy that always stood up for you whenever the idiots got too out of hand. he was also a moderator so he had no problems blocking them.

the two of you would dm off and on about life , thoughts on hero society, hobbies , etc. from your chats you gathered that he didn’t walk that straight and narrow but that didn’t mean much to you. he would sometimes tease your about your crush on shigaraki and your general taste in men.

finalboss: honestly, what kind of girl likes a criminal?; who knows what kind of twisted shit the guys into— you’re not even a villain.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you know nothing jon snow

finalboss: that reference just confirmed btw

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i’ll have you know that my beloved is a certified otaku fantasy nerd.

finalboss: oh yeah ? and how’d you obtain such info ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i run 3 stan accounts on twitter and i belong to a shiggy fan club 🥹

finalboss: 😃

finalboss: seek help

finalboss: 😃

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you wound me ☹️

finalboss: i’ll just leave that too your Prince Charming lol

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh lord , did you see the footage of his latest attack ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: he was dressed like a whoreee 😩😩

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: tits just out for my viewing pleasure

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: shigaraki is my shepherd, he know what i want.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: wanna suck on those sugar nips and call him mommy

finalboss: you get weirder and weirder every time we chat

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: that means we’re becoming besties ㅤ♡ ︎

finalboss: ♡ ︎

it was nice having someone to talk to about your secret obsession, it’s not like your “real life” friends would understand. the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the internet to goof around in. he never disclosed much information about himself and typically kept the conversations focused on you, but you still felt an undeniable bond to this faceless stranger.

then he ghosted you.

weeks went by without a word from your friend. he no longer defended you in the forums and he didn’t respond to any of your dms. you’d started to get worried that he may have been arrested or worse. and at the three month mark you���d finally given up hope that you’d ever hear from your friend again. but then the unexpected happened.

finalboss is requesting to video chat.

this was completely out of character but after months with no word, you were desperate to hear from your friend.

you were prepared to chew him him out for abandoning you. thinking of all the ways you could insult him while simultaneously expressing your need for his comfort and company. but your mind went blank when the grainy screen loaded into the pixelated image of your companion.

whispy tendrils fell from his bun, framing the sculpted planes of his handsome face. his lips were dry, slightly chapped, with the only lubrication being the sheen of saliva left by the slow drag of his tongue. bloodied eyes bore into your own leaving you breathless and dazed.

“hey bestie”

his voice was low and raspy, almost like a whisper. a deep rumbling that echoed in your ear drums. it was oddly hypnotic. he was absolutely mesmerizing.

tomura chuckled into the camera, showing flashes of perfectly white teeth. he leans back into the chair, a hand on the back of his neck showcasing a broad chest and toned abs.

“didn’t expect you to be this quiet, bestie. is my outfit not slutty enough for you ? i could always take these off…” his hand fell from his neck to rest and the waistband of his black jeans.

you remained speechless, eyes glued to the light dusting of hair below his belly button.

more laughter and shifting. now you were met with the glorious girth of shigaraki’s cock clenched tightly in his fist. the darkened tip oozed a sparkling trail of pre that spilled down his length. his thumb swiped the fluid to spread over his veiny member.

“c’mon , doll. don’t leave me hanging” he teased, squeezing his fist upwards to produce more pre. “i thought you wanted to be my ‘mc’ ? seems more like an npc if you ask me”.

“y-you’re him” you stammered, eyes following the slow drag of his fist. “you’re tomura shigaraki”.

“in the flesh” he teased, shooting a wink that went directly between your legs. “well kinda, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. sorry i’ve been away so long, but you’d wait forever for me won’t you , perfect girl ?”

your nod was automatic. robotic even. you’d moved closer to the screen, completely engrossed by his ministrations.

“anything for you beyon—shiggy”

you both laughed at that. he appreciated your humor, especially with all the drama in his day to day. even in def con simp mode and being ghosted didn’t stop you from being undeniably you. that’s probably why he was as obsessed with you as you were with him.

“i know we probably have alot to discuss but todays been kind of shitty and i’d really like to explore our final fantasies”.

you snorted, “that was really bad , shig”.

he shrugged, “i’m a villain, not a comedian, beloved. “now show me that perfect little pussy”.

[gigi-loveless]

Maybe something about how After hazel fights the beefy guy (ew I forgot his name lol) girlfriend!reader is crying and picking Hazel up and helping her recover 🥹🥹 thank you!!

“and thank you for attending this years pep rally!”

everything is a blur. one second josie is holding you back from the fight, and another you’re tripping over the bleachers, hot tears bleeding down your face, shoving through the stampede of people towards your girlfriends lethargic body.

“hazel? hazel…come on. you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay….” you plead over her limp, gashed up body. her fluffy brunette mane is drenched in crimson blood, and you could’ve sworn that she needed ambulance. just as you’re about to crouch down to her, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“dude, i’m so sorry- i- i didnt-“

“pj.” you whip around, swatting her hand away from you aggressively. you never liked the idea of hazel joining the club in the first place, but the small cuts and bruises you tended to when you picked her up from school were manageable. this was a whole different level. taking a step forward, knuckles turning white with rage, your eyes meet hers centimeters away. “stay the fuck away.” you seethe, pushing her away. you consider just beating the fuck out of her for a moment for what she did to your sweet girlfriend, until a weak, husky voice materializes behind you. instinctively, your stature softens, collapsing down to the floor next to her small frame.

“haze…it’s alright.” her eyes flutter open weakly, and she coughs up a bit of blood. isabel runs to grab her cardigan, and hands it to you to clean the blood up. dabbing the silky cloth across her beaten up face, everything else melts away. she is your entire world. no, your universe. you brush her hair out of her eyes to assess the damage, and even though she put up a good fight, he beat the fuck out of her. it’s even worse up close; both nostrils are gushing blood, a busted lip, and a positively broken nose.

as you’re comforting her barely conscious body, brittany sprints back in, with all of the first aid she could grab from the nurses office (she knows where everything is because of how many times she gets kicked in the face during cheer). the three of you make quick work to clean her up the best you could, and as you’re rubbing the last piece of gauze over her swollen nose, she finally tries to speak.

“h-hey…” she whimpers, half chuckling.

“what’s so funny, haze? you just got the shit beat out of you!”

“oh you’re just…you’re really pretty…at this angle.” she groans.

“haze…” forcing a half smile through your tears, “you know you didn’t have to do that, right?”

“yeah i just, i don’t know…i thought i was fighting pj and-“

“wait, what?”

pjs unsavory mumbles about “getting a room” come into earshot, but you attempt to drown it out. you take hazels black and blue painted knuckles, and heave her up to her feet, catching her full body weight, head securely placed in the crook of your neck. while rubbing her back and cooing over her, you feel pjs glares stabbing into your soul. with brittany, the both of you take each of hazels arms and start to walk her limping frame out of the gym doors and to the car, while pj and josie gawk at your girlfriend. you signal to isabel to take over for you for a moment, and you storm up to the two girls. “you two fuck with her again, i fuck with you. and trust me, you’ll want the ambulance on speed dial, got it?” neither of them can say a word, just gulp and scurry off, muttering to each other about whatever bullshit they’re gonna try next to save their sorry asses.

isabel and brittany help to buckle hazel in the passenger seat of the car, and they make you swear to text with any updates. the door shuts, and hazel immediately just starts bawling, tears mixed with blood beating down onto her shirt.

“i know, i know….it’s okay honey.” you kiss her forehead, not caring about the sticky blood that seeped into her hair. “how about this, let’s go to the doctor, get you all checked out, then go back to my place and i’ll make us dinner?” she nods, and wipes her tears with her sleeve.

“you have no idea how much i love you…”

“i love you most, hazel.”

[isagrimorie]

in case you still were unsure, the photo of the three female convicts is definitely AI! a few things i can list without thinking too much cause im a sleepy fella:

-the tattoos are all nonsense

-they would not have access to heavy makeup, hair styling products, and the hours of free time those looks require if they were in prison uniforms (they're not really, they're in tight orange t-shirts because it's "sexier", but they wouldn't all be wearing them if it weren't MEANT to be a uniform)

-there are a ton of supposed convicts in the photo with no security around

-the bench is just full of sexy convicts, and none of the legal staff that should be there

-theyre practically identical feature-wise, it would be nearly impossible for them not to be related; if this clickbait video contained a set of relatives being sentenced together, they would be using that fact more explicitly, as part of the bait

-if you watch the video they aren't there

-the "camera" is a weirdly high, glossy quality with an artistic angle and framing. it is not composed like a normal courtroom photograph

-it also can't be a painting, both due to the first reason listed (an artist of this caliber would paint real dang tattoos), and because this would be a several hundred dollar art piece commission & this is a cheap clickbait video someone edited from footage they don't own

-if you look through that channels videos you'll probably find a thumbnail somewhere that you CAN recognize as ai, and from there you can see all kinds of similarities to ones like this where you couldn't

ai art is definitely 'improving', but beyond just visual flaws, critical thinking and research can still help a lot with identifying it as it advances (but i know that's kind of a pain in the ass for most people lol, im just autistic and overanalyze everything anyway, figured i may as well lend that trait out to others who need it)

Thank you for validating my hunch! I thought they were too alike and had the plastic sheen of a CGI character at its second pass!

Honestly disturbing. Because we know technology improves and I hate where it’s going.

[lackablazeical]

Happy Birthday, Addams Family! ROTTMNT TMNT AU!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

This animatic covers three main parts of the Miyamoto family lore. The way back past, regular past, and present day of the AU. Not every scene is linear, good luck lol. You get to meet a mysterious new character, though :)))

This is like. My second ever 'full' animatic, the longest I've ever done, and the first animatic I've ever done to a song. I'm proud of myself for actually committing and allowing myself the leeway to let it not be perfect. To let some frames be weird and to let it be just so slightly off beat (it'll tear me up inside shhhh)

Sappiness under the cut ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ and some of my favorite frames

When I started this AU last year, I never knew it would get to the place it is today.

With almost 800 art pieces from me alone, and at minimum 250k words written, it has become a project me and my friends have poured our hearts into, and I love it to death. This year has been rough, I've fucked up, I've learned, I've improved, and I'm still improving.

I've met amazing people, gotten amazing mutuals, and created great things for this AU. It's changed my life in a really positive way, and I can't imagine where I'd be without it, or without the friends I've made through it.

Funny how such an edgy, nerdy AU can make such an impact, but it has. And I'm excited for what the next year brings, for me, and for my AU. Even if I'm still too nervous to interact with people half the time, or get a bit too wrapped up in pointless things, I'm getting better, and I'm excited to see where I can take this, and where I can go with it.

I'm happy this AU exists, and im happy my friends exist along with it.

With that, my top 3 frames.

Have a good day, if you've made it this far :] here's to another one, fuckers 🎉🎉🍾🍾🍾

[tariah23]

I love how Denzel answered the question and flipped it around on its head, leaving the interviewer stuttering to full on moving on to the next subject/question because it got awkward for him lol.

White people have never respected black entertainment, especially our movies (unless they’re in it as some sort of stand in white savior, especially slave movies lol. They used to love giving Oscar’s to black ppl if it meant they got to see them suffer throughout the film.) and it’s funny because sm of them gauge a films greatness based off of how many people have seen, how often it’s talked about globally while completely disregarding Black films and foreign films as well (especially if they’re not like French or whatever tf), or if it was “Oscar bait,” while completely forgetting that “Boyz N the Hood,” was also Oscar nominated. “Do the Right thing,” (they were NOT going to let Do the Right Thing win a damn Oscar lmfao) but they never watched them (well, they just simply called “Do the Right Thing,” “racist against white people-“ and the usual really.

“Hustle & Flow,” literally won an Oscar and you could see the discomfort in the sea of white ppl’s annoyingly frightened faces when they saw Three 6 Mafia and their entourage, go up on the stage and accept their award. That’s when I knew wp were no longer gonna allow for black films that were unapologetically black, regardless of subject matter, win anything like that again lmfao.

It’s funny since they do this with literature as well. I still remember being in HS and our literature teacher had us reading “the importance of being earnest,” and how he’d completely shut me out after I’d let it be known that I wasn’t really enjoying it, framing my opinion as being “naive,” and making it out to seem as though I just “didn’t understand it, that’s why I wasn’t enjoying it-“ when in reality, it was just a boring piece of literature to ME. He was really offended 😭. Then when you bring up literature written by Black people from the past, they purposely misunderstand the text because they personally cannot relate to the experience of being Black… like whatever!!!

I always kind of roll my eyes at white YouTubers/ streamers especially whenever they started picking up that trend of “watching black movies/ listening to hip-hop/rap, and just black music in general,” for views and their reactions are always so… like it’s almost as if they’re venturing into as if black media is some sort of strange thing from outer space that they’ve yet to encounter? Like we’re a phenomenon that’s completely separate from reality. “Ohh, this strange new world-“ and it’s just a black movie with black people who weren’t handpicked by white media to be in 🗿. They act like they’re listening to music discovered by aliens when they begrudgingly listen to rap music for the very first time in their lives despite being adults, for views. I’ve always found those channels strange like yeah, it’s great that you’re trying to expand your interests and broaden your horizons in media but how have you never watched [insert black classic] and you call yourself a “movie buff-“ 🗿… I already know the answer but eek.

[shitouttabuck]

Buddie unintentional cuddles can power me through a whole week, so the prompt 3. Person A waking up to Person B curled up and sleeping on top of them really spoke to me <3

hiya thank u frida and @colonoscopys for sendin this one in (and an anon too!!!) very much distracted me from my wisdom tooth woes. i need to add a disclaimer that this is NOT kink it’s just sleepy drunkenness please trust me lol (rated t even!!!! not horny!!!!!!! just unbelievably stupid!!!!)

bed-sharing prompts: person A waking up to person B curled up and sleeping on top of them

put on a slow dumb show for you | 2.2k | read under cut or on ao3

Buck wakes with the same unshiftable heaviness on his chest that he gets mid-panic attack. Except—his body is incredibly confused, because while the physical pressure is bearing down, making breathing a struggle, every other cell in his body is telling him the opposite: no reason to panic, he’s warm and swaddled and safer than he’s ever been.

His brain scrambles to organise this juxtaposition of sensations. The room is dark, and not unfamiliar, even if he’s spent the night in here less than a handful of times. Eddie’s digital alarm clock is blinking at him, and Eddie’s recently mounted décor of three framed photographs on the far wall is facing him, and Eddie’s entire fucking body is draped over Buck’s and crushing the breath out of him.

Oh. Okay. The second half of his cells were right, then—he’s safe. His heart can stop racing now. And it does, a bit.

But his brain keeps reaching for puzzle pieces, laying them out for assessment before him. His mouth tastes like he licked the bottom of a public trash can, and there’s a sharp twinge behind his temple, and he feels more than a little nauseous.

That’ll be the last five tequila shots Ravi pressed into his hands pre-karaoke. Eddie’d just stumbled off stage, arm-in-arm with Karen, fresh off a You’re Still The One duet that had Karen sniffling half-way through and making grabby-hands at an amused but equally-smitten Hen. Buck had only enough time to whoop as Eddie curtsied dramatically before they were calling his name.

Buck’s good at a lot of things, but singing is not one of them. He’d whined and stammered and straight-up crawled under the table before Ravi, sweet, evil Ravi, had ducked down to join him with a tray of shots. After that is—a bit of a blur, to be honest. There was some Carly Rae Jepsen, maybe? He remembers sliding back into their booth next to Eddie and watching the rest of their friends be disgustingly romantic.

That, coupled with the best friend he’s a little unbearably in love with singing the most hopeful love song ever written, is just a recipe for Buck’s heart to get a little messy. And maybe it made him bolder with his affection than usual? Clingier, anyway. He must’ve been pretty needy for Eddie to let him crash in his bed. But Eddie’s always making sure Buck has what he needs, so that isn’t anything new. And Eddie must’ve been pretty wasted too, if this total lack of personal space is any indication.

Buck doesn’t think Eddie’ll mind waking up like this—a perk of having a physically affectionate straight best friend is that he’s mostly oblivious to a classic no homo situation. He breathes deep, weight on top of him grounding instead of suffocating, lets himself tentatively wrap an arm around Eddie to hold him steady as his chest rises with the depth of his inhale, and closes his eyes again.

Except Eddie snuffles and shifts and then jams his knee directly into Buck’s bladder. After the drinks he put away tonight? Buck’s dangerously full bladder.

“Fuck,” he squeaks, desperately trying to shift Eddie to the side. “Oh—fuck.” He clenches—everything, really, because he’s too old to wet the bed and too fond of the life he has to wet Eddie’s bed, as the aftermath of that really only involves fleeing the country.

In the end, fear of that outweighs any qualms he has about waking a peacefully slumbering Eddie, and he all but shoves him off, gasping a breath of relief when Eddie’s weight shifts from his bladder to his thighs.

“Whu—what?” Eddie slurs, scrambling up with a pinched expression. “Buck? What’s wrong?” He sits up clumsily, straddling Buck’s thighs.

“Nothing,” Buck says, voice strained. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just—really need to piss. And…” He gestures uselessly between them, face contorted in apology.

“Oh,” Eddie frowns. “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” Buck echoes, feeling hysterical. “Um, I’m gonna…” He tries to tug his legs free from under Eddie and Eddie clambers off obligingly.

Buck swings himself out of bed and hurries down the hall to the bathroom, cursing himself for everything from waking Eddie to ruining what could’ve been the cuddle session of his dreams to going and fucking falling in love with his best friend in the first place.

He lets the door swing shut behind him and absentmindedly lifts the toilet seat, shoving a hand into his boxers and then just about leaping a foot in the air when the door squeaks open again and Eddie shuffles over to stand behind him, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder.

“Um,” Buck says, feeling dizzy for reasons that are only partly alcohol related. “Uh.”

“D’you need a hand?” Eddie asks sleepily.

Buck laughs nervously, frozen facing the wall with his hand down his boxers. “Uh. What?”

Eddie yawns, muffling the back-half of it into Buck’s shoulder and crowding closer, plastering himself along Buck’s back. Does Buck have alcohol poisoning? Is this the tequila version of an absinthe hallucination?

“D’you need me to hold it?” Eddie clarifies, nuzzling Buck’s shoulder gently.

Buck chokes on his own spit, body buckling as he pulls his hand out his underwear to thump his own chest. No, he skipped straight past the alcohol poisoning, he’s dead, not even a coma could dream this up.

Eddie steps back, frowning in concern when Buck finally spins to face him, eyes wide. His whole body is taut, stark contrast to the sleepy slump of Eddie’s shoulders.

“Do I—what?” he manages.

“Sorry, I wasn’t, like, trying to baby you,” Eddie says, looking unsure. “But after earlier—”

“Earlier,” Buck echoes. Eddie’s gaze has dropped to south of Buck’s navel, where his boxers have rucked up enough to leave a considerable amount of his happy trail on display. He yanks the waistband up quickly, and Eddie’s head snaps up too, cheeks dusted pink. Then his face, his perfect, beautiful face, falls.

“Wait, Buck—do you not remember? After karaoke?” he asks, taking a step back. “Oh, I—I didn’t think you were that drunk.”

“I wasn’t,” Buck insists, racking his brain, and oh.

The tequila-soaked memory swims up, Buck desperate for the toilet and stubborn about being able to get there himself, despite tripping over his stupid Bambi legs not two steps from their table. Eddie laughing and slinging an arm around him, half-carrying him to the men’s room. Buck standing in front of the urinal, frowning and arms flopping helplessly at his sides.

“Eddie,” he’d whined. “My hands aren’t working.”

Eddie’d laughed again, fond and warm, and asked if he wanted to sit in a stall.

“No,” Buck had pouted. “My zip…” He’d turned to Eddie, lopsided grin and beseeching eyes, and Eddie’d shaken his head and come to stand behind him. He’d undone Buck’s zipper and asked, “Alright?” and Buck had pouted some more.

“Can you help?” he’d asked, mortifyingly pathetic. Eddie’d raised an eyebrow and snorted, and then Buck had said, “Eddieee. These are my nice jeans. My hands don’t work. Your hands are perfect.”

Eddie’d muttered, “Might as well happen like this,” and slipped a hand into Buck’s jeans and—ah. Held his dick while he peed.

“Oh,” Buck says now, voice small. “Fuck, Eds, I’m sorry.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, somewhat blearily. “Why? I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, but I know—I don’t think we’re on the same page. I don’t—” Buck closes his eyes and presses the heels of his palms into them. “I don’t think it meant the same thing for us.”

“Oh,” Eddie’s face is suddenly unreadable. He crosses his arms over his chest and takes another step back. Buck wants to cry. He basically tricked his best friend into touching him—doesn’t matter if Eddie did it platonically, because drunk or not, genuinely needing help to piss or not, Buck’s pretty sure his own intentions were not all that innocent.

“I’m so sorry, Eds,” he says. “I was drunk as hell—that’s not an excuse, but it won’t happen again. I—I’ll be better at keeping it to myself. The last thing I ever want is to make you feel uncomfortable around me.”

Something passes over Eddie’s face. “Wait,” he says slowly, “you asked me to hold your dick as friends?” There’s an uncertain lilt to the question, like he truly doesn’t know what the answer is anymore.

“Uh,” Buck says. He could use the confusion to wrestle the cat back into the bag and then ship said bag one-way to Nicaragua, but Eddie’s looking a little lost, arms crossed in his black vest and boxers and mismatched socks. Buck can’t be the cause of that. “No. I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I swear I wasn’t trying to trick you. I was just really drunk.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, stepping forward again and reaching out to tug Buck in by the hem of his t-shirt. “What’s the problem then?” He slides a warm hand under Buck’s shirt, smoothing it across his skin.

Buck inhales sharply, blood rushing to his brain and cheeks and cock so quickly he reaches for the porcelain toilet tank behind him to steady himself. “W-wait. Were you holding my dick as friends?”

Eddie blinks at him, disbelief slowly overtaking the slack sleepiness of his facial muscles. “You thought—is that generally something your friends do for you?”

“No, but…” Buck falters. “Why—why did you, then? Why else would you…”

“I was holding your dick because I want to kiss it,” Eddie snaps, and then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and horrified. “I want to kiss you,” he amends. “You, not your—I mean, sure, that too, but. Can you say something.”

The many million times Buck has daydreamed and fantasised and wished for this, he’s never anticipated fuzzy patches in his memory of it. But these things are clear: waking up with Eddie plastered to him like he wants to touch Buck at every possible point, Eddie following him in here unprompted and pressing up against him with unchecked affection, because even in his sleepy state Eddie just wants to make sure Buck has what he needs, even if what he needs is help holding his dick in a context that’s soft and sleepy and miles from sexual.

“You came in here to hold my dick,” he says, grin spreading.

Eddie’s cheeks are so rosy, rosier than they’d been with the flush of alcohol, even. “I came in here because I didn’t want your uncoordinated drunk ass pissing all over my bathroom.”

“Aw, Eds, you romantic,” Buck says, stepping closer. Eddie sighs exasperatedly, tilting his face up expectantly anyway. But, oh—

“Did we kiss already?” Buck asks, heart dropping. “Do I not remember?”

Eddie brings up one large palm to rub Buck’s sternum gently. “Nah. Didn’t seem like the right time. I kinda—I wanted to do that not-drunk.”

“Oh,” Buck says, sagging with relief. “Good.” Eddie gives him a sleepy, wonky smile, and Buck says, “I’m not drunk now.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, stepping back and patting Buck’s chest. “Nope, just hungover and harbouring the most toxic tequila-flavoured morning breath anyone’s ever had.”

“Don’t forget desperate to pee,” Buck grins. “You gonna help a guy out?” He flaps his arms limply, batting his lashes at Eddie.

Eddie grumbles unintelligibly, lips twitching with amusement as he bodily rearranges Buck to face the toilet again. Buck melts back into the cradle of his arms, safe and sleepy and sated enough that his dick doesn’t do any more than he needs it to right now, even with Eddie’s warm hand wrapped around it.

They stumble back to bed, Buck belatedly remembering he’s not washed his hands but deciding not to care if Eddie doesn’t, and when Buck flops down, Eddie’s right back on top of him.

Buck wheezes as the breath’s punched out of his lungs, and it becomes a laugh, and this time he wraps both arms firmly around Eddie to hold him tight. Eddie exhales into the crook of his neck, breath hot and a little gross, and then lifts his head to press a close-mouthed kiss to the corner of Buck’s lips.

“This one doesn’t count,” he murmurs against Buck’s cheek. “I just can’t believe you thought I wanted to hold your dick as friends, so. It’s an almost-kiss. An IOU. Tomorrow I’m gonna kiss you till one of us passes out. Not as friends.”

“As enemies,” Buck whispers solemnly and then grunts when Eddie digs an elbow into his ribs. “As anything you want, s’long as I can keep the kissing and the dick-holding and—this.” He tightens his arms around Eddie, feeling his chest reverberate against Buck’s as he laughs.

“Deal,” he agrees, nestling closer, messy hair getting in Buck’s mouth as he shifts. “But just so you know what I want—and I don’t mean to skip ahead—though I guess we’re doing the regular dating bases all out of order anyway—” He sighs, deep and satisfied as he gets comfortable, and says, “I’m ready to have and to dick-hold you every day of the week, you know?”

Buck didn’t know, but now he does, and in eleven months’ time when he and Eddie are saying these words in front of their friends and family, sans penis, not one single person can blame him for lurching forward and kissing the adoring smirk off Eddie’s face miles before poor ordained Bobby gives him the go-ahead. Doing true love in order is overrated, anyway.

[canmom]

NieR Orchestra Concert 12024 [the end of data] (London, 15/2/2024)

NieR concert was incredible just as expected. Honestly, from the moment I got there - the cosplayers, the general atmosphere, it was just a good place to be surrounded by NieR nerds lmao. So many people happy to chat with the stranger next to them, kind of a con vibe.

But of course we were there for the music! And it was fuckin amazing. The emi evans/j'nique nicole duets😭These were special orchestral arrangements specifically for this concert, and the way the sound of the orchestra fills the space, how you can see a phrase physically ripple across the orchestra... I don't get to go to a lot of concerts but I really should try to go more often, because it's something else to hear orchestral music.

below: further comments on the concert, lots of cosplay photos.

The multimedia elements also worked really well - every piece was accompanied with backing videos using either demosceney abstract visuals or images from the games, along with text that told a short story over the course of the concert, with some segments voice acted by the English voices of 2B and 9S (Kira Buckland and Kyle McCarley, who have previously made their own performances of the original Japan-only concert readings). I won't spoil the story in this post since there are still concerts to come, but it was... not that substantial I'll admit, but sweet, and a nice framing device to create a flow through the songs and various moments from the games.

Hearing J'nique Nicole's voice live though, that was incredible. Emi Evans was there just as last time, and just as amazing as always - but this time we had both of them on stage together, and it was absolutely sublime. We all went wild. They performed duets in several songs, with the standouts naturally being A Beautiful Song, Ashes of Dreams, and of course Weight of the World. I think we all thought that was the end because we gave it a standing ovation but then Emi came back out to perform Kainé. After that we got into the groove of standing up and stood up again like three more times lol.

Yoko Taro and Yosuke Saito showed up at the end and made a bunch of rapidfire jokes in Japanese that the translator couldn't keep up with, bless her. But we got to give them like the fourth standing ovation of the night, and made a lot of noise when Yoko Taro suggested it would persuade the president of Squeenix to fund a sequel. I'm sure they appreciated it lmao. I think it must be so weird for Yoko Taro to go from someone with a career of niche, unsuccessful games to being internationally renowned to the point that a massive auditorium full of people in multiple countries will go absolutely nuts just to hear him speak a language we mostly don't speak.

Good mix of people who were at a NieR concert for the first time and people who'd been to the last one. There was a guy near me who had apparently been to the Berlin concert just a few days before, and snagged a ticket for this one literally yesterday just to get it again with better acoustics. I respect it lol. Everyone I spoke to was remarkably friendly - last time I went to one of these things I felt really nervous about approaching anyone but it seems I've gotten better about that kind of thing in the last few years. Anyway, people had come from all over - I chatted with a pair of Americans from Boston all the way down the merch line.

Here are some pictures, mostly of cosplayers. I am still getting used to shooting with the DSLR my friend gave me, so not all of these came out perfectly steady and some of them the exposure wasn't right,, but there are some nice ones in here...

bokeeeeehhhhhhhhh... I spoke a bit to the owner of this 9S doll. Her mum was there too, and it turns out she's a haberdasher who makes cosplays for her daughters and has now done over 70. That's a legendary mum right there.

The 9S cosplayer here gave me his instagram. he's a pro photographer so I feel a little embarassed at the quality of the photos I took of him ^^'

I got some merch too, since I understand it's the main way events like this support themselves.

That Kainé thing isn't a print, it's a vinyl record with a few arrangements of Kainé. Though I was totally prepared to buy it as a print because it's a lovely drawing. I don't actually own a record player, but one day I'll surely listen to it ^^'

I was too fatigued to make a cosplay this time, but I'm sure there will be another concert and next time, for sure, I will go as Devola or Popola. Unless Yoko Taro comes up with another redhead character in the meantime lmao.

[accio-victuuri]

another piece of the clowning puzzle. lol. since wyb has decided to show off his camera 📷

part one of this cpn is here incase you are confused

now that we have a clearer and more HD look at the camera he is using, we have another spin on it that may or may not be true. lol. i mean that’s how cpns work anyway.

We thought that ZZ was using a Leica Q2 because we saw it posted 2 years ago. However, it turns out that there is actually another version of the Leica Q2, which is the Leica Q2 Monochrome. What is the difference between the two? A simple understanding is that Q2 is a color camera, while Q2M is a black and white camera. It is specially designed for people who like black and white images, and the one ZZ uses is Q2M. There are three clues that confirms this:

[1] From the appearance, there is no difference in structure between Q2 and Q2M, but the Q2 body is marked with red, orange and other numbers, while the Q2M is a black and white image, so all the markings on the body are complete. It's black and white. It can be seen from the previous photos taken by fans that although they are blurry, the markings on the body are all black and white.

[2] The Leica Q2M was launched in November 2020, and the time when Zhan appeared with the Q2M and was photographed was in March 21 ( *He used Leica Q2 in 2019). In October 21, he released a photo in Oasis. There is a black and white image of the West Lake, which should be taken by Q2M.

[3] ZZ has always been a fan of black and white images, and has a lot of photography works.

Now as for Bobo, same with Q2, Leica M11 also has a Monochrome version. The concept is the same as Q2M. The M11m is a full-frame black and white back-illuminated sensor that deliberately omits color filters to improve the quality of black and white images to an unprecedented level. In other words, the Leica M11m is currently the latest and most powerful black and white image camera. Two clues for this:

[1] The moon in Bobo’s Mid-Autumn Festival is black and white, and the resolution is exactly the same as M11m.

[2] The latest photo just posted by YBO, there is no red mark next to the viewfinder of the camera in Bobo’s hand. The one with the red mark is the Leica M11, and the one without the red mark is the Leica M11m.

So yeah, They have matching b&w cameras. 🤍🖤

ZZ who used Leica in 2019, then switched to the b&w version of it after. That means he really knows his way around this camera. It makes sense that he will gift something from the same brand to WYB. He is probably interested in the whole B&W aesthetic too so it’s perfect for him.

source: 炫风小马驹

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hi Slug! If you've listened to the full songs in the new EP, have your opinions of the trailers changed? Also, the new dramas are HEAVY, so if you've listened to them, I'm curious to know what you thought of them. As always, thanks for the translations!

I like listening to Hypmic music on shuffle during workouts, so I've most of the new songs in full by now. I don't think my opinions have changed majorly. I really enjoy Black and White, and Move Your Body Till You Die is a phenomenal work of art.

As for the drama tracks... truth be told, I haven't even listened to the one that came out in April, so I'll read through some TLs now and record thoughts below the cut:

No One Lives Forever, translation courtesy of shinseimcd on Twitter

"Anti-Party of Words faction" Huh, like a government faction? I'm surprised the PoW allows other political parties or at the very least open dissenters. There was talk in some chapters of the manga of them punishing protesters, not to mention the way they crushed the TDD rebellion in its primacy. Either way, interesting, and I hope we learn more about this as time goes on.

Ichijiku and Nemu baking together is really cute lol

I love the way Ichijiku's whole personality shifts around Otome. Gap moe (????)

It's a cool tidbit that Nemu tends to prefer plainer outfits, as that tracks with how she dresses in TDD. Also, Nemu and Ichijiku shopping together is kind of bittersweet, since Ichijiku is clearly using Nemu as a replacement figure for her deceased sister...

Ichijiku secretly wanting to fall on the cute side of the cute/elegant spectrum is a pretty classic trope but a fun detail that's been hinted at already, since we've seen that she keeps a bow collection.

??? Rei's lab is on Battleship Island? Ohhhhhhhhh this is why Twitter was blowing up with controversy right after this track released... The IRL Battleship Island was home to forced labor of Korean and Chinese citizens during the twentieth-century push of Japanese imperialism which was later, iirc, denied in part or totally by the Japanese government to immense international backlash. Using this as a setpiece for Hypmic is oddly provocative, and I can't think why the writers would want to do that. On a much lighter note, this is also a headscratcher to me because isn't this a UNESCO World Heritage Site? The whole point of that is conservation, and I don't think building a clone lab counts as conservation... Unless they're implying the clone lab was built prior to the 1950s? Hm. Let's not go down this rabbit hole.

"I would like all of the True Hypnosis Mics. As well as all the Amemura clones." Oh? Are there more still alive? I thought Honobono ordered the death of the last remaining three... Well, that scraps a piece of writing I was working on LOL

"Your biometric data is required to access the mic storage facility" So how did the PoW get in?

Her? Heart stop beating? Oh for fuck's sake, is Rei's wife also in a coma? How many fucking characters are in a coma in this series... Whichever mfer invents a device that restores people from comas with no significant brain damage will make a fortune in this universe

"And I won't try anything funny." I do not believe this for one instant

Hmm, the framing of Otome planning this and the way she brushed past talk of countermeasures for the anti-PoW faction implies that Rei is heading this faction.

Oh, so they couldn't get past the biometric locks after all, I see.

I strongly dislike the idea of thirty clones for thirty mics and the nonchalance in which Rei goes, "Yeah, I'll ship them off to Chuuouku" like they're a parcel and not human beings, but that's my personal bone to pick w/ this character and setting.

I was intrigued by the notion of the PoW holding caucuses, implying there's some sort of democratic process in terms of choosing their own party members or positions, but the JPN audio doesn't specify that exactly.

"We no longer require the cooperation of Jakurai Jinguji." I know that this took like four years in real time, but in terms of the Hypmic universe... I mean, Jakurai didn't even do anything for them, did he? He went through all that moral dilemma for nothing, as far as I can tell. (I get that it sets up the reconciliation with Ramuda, but that's it? Seriously?) That's disappointing to roll it back so quickly.

"During the Division Rap Battle, the people of our nation will be focused on the tournament, giving us the opportunity to use the True Hypnosis Mics to mind hack the Anti-Party of Words faction who stand in our way, ultimately pulling them over to our side." Otome always has the most batshit plans. God bless. A consequence of her needing to drive the plot forward is that she'll say some of the truly silliest things I've ever heard. What a complete misappropriation of government funds lol. Also... is this stating there are only 30 dissidents (????), or can the True Hypmics brainwash more than one person at a time?

"Once that is complete, we will move on to other countries. And when we have taken over the world, then, in the true sense of the word, peace through the power of words will be achieved." LMAO? I'm sorry, this isn't very considerate of me, but in my initial impressions of this, I am well and truly gobsmacked. What in the actual fuck. How many clones will die for this? How much money will it cost? How does she think she stands any chance at governing so many people across such an area, even with a downsized population after WWIII? Homie... Never change, Hypmic, you are the wildest.

I can't believe Ichijiku is so whipped she's willing to go along with an absolutely nonsensical plan for world domination. Ma'am, Otome is not going to fuck you, and even if she is, it's not worth it! Ma'am!!! I'm sorry, I'm being petty and not giving this a lot of in-depth thought but LORD this is a trip on first read.

A FUCKING CLONE UPRISING AT THE HANDS OF REI? HAHAHAHAHA.

"World domination, huh, what a joke." Man after my own heart.

I'm actually quite interested in how this "mics are disabled forever" thing works. I guess the mics have a kill switch in them? I vaguely recall someone saying that in the manga years and years ago... Oh yeah, it was Ramuda in TDD 12. Huh, interesting if that was intentional foreshadowing (I'm not sure if I want to be that charitable). At any rate, can't everyone in the room just get new mics? Or does it affect their speakers and such too? I'm curious how that works, like if you build an affinity with a certain mic or some nonsense.

"looks like we won't be having any Division Rap Battles from here on out." Ah, and this is why the other half of Twitter was up in arms like "No more DRB??? End of Hypmic??" I guess.

The Block Party tracks are quite long, and since it's getting rather late for me, I'm going to leave off here for the moment. I'd like to continue this at my next available opportunity... WHAT a ride. Not sure when that will be, but I will add to this with a reblog when I can. And I know it's been months since this track came out, but I would love to hear other people's thoughts. I wasn't around much when it first launched, so I missed most of the commentary on it.

[bomberqueen17]

Loftus Bralette MK2 Go!

So the thing about the bralette pattern was that it was fiddly. There are a few seams where the seam allowance is one millimeter. That's hard to do. I am capable of that but have not the habit of the necessary carefulness. And I know a lot of the fit issues of the muslin-- which I did shorten the straps of, and put on to check the fit, and again then did not want to remove, so while it is not perfect it is currently the best bra I have (I have some decent RTW ones but forgot them at the farm so my need is dire right now). Anyway a lot of the fit issues of that could stem from careless sewing, so. I immediately cut out a second one with no alterations, just being MEGA SUPER ULTRA careful to cut EXACTLY on the lines.

I used a kit I bought from Porcelynne when I bought all the other materials. I'd meant to make a couple practice ones but then, you know, the kit wasn't that expensive and I might as well just. Do it!

It's black heavy-duty powermesh, black nylon cup lining, and pretty red lace, with black picot elastic and other findings, and then the 2" wide band elastic is metallic silver. Which is so cute and I wish I'd been able to buy just lengths of that elastic, but I wasn't able to find any on the site.

Anyway, the pattern is fiddly but not that challenging, and like 90% of the battle is remembering which way each thing goes. So I figure, if I make another one immediately I've a high chance of the best possible outcome. So here's some of that progress. Well, mostly I'm going to talk about equipment and setup.

I cut out all the materials while on a Zoom call with friends-- someone I know started hosting weekly Zooms to "meet up" with friends and work on crafts sometime during the pandemic I think, and I joined in somewhere in that time. That person has since become my sister's roommate so sometimes I go over there and participate in person, LOL. Anyway I set up my computer at the kitchen counter, got out my little cutting mat and rotary cutter, and just spent two full hours very carefully cutting out pieces and this time I labeled them with the tape before I even cut them out.

The red lace won't take a mark from anything but a Sharpie, which won't wash out, so I wasn't able to mark notches. So I just carefully stacked every copy of the pieces on top of the paper pattern piece, and put them into a baggie that way. I was so so so so careful to get the fabric cut right on the cutting lines, because the sewing lines are marked but I can't transfer those marks, and I discovered sewing the muslin that I can't sew on a line like that anyway (and often it was on the wrong side of the fabric for me to see.)

I'm home alone for two or three days, so I've taken over the living areas of the house to work in. This involved setting up a spare sewing machine on the absolutely-not-for-sewing desk that Dude uses to wfh, temporarily. I had forgotten I owned this machine, and it is a more modern one than the ten-stitch mechanical Kenmore that's my primary axe these days. This one is a Singer 6235 from the 80s, one of the most sophisticated mechanical ones they made before computerized machines were introduced; it's not high in resale value because some of the gears are nylon, but this particular individual one has clearly not been used much. It has wildly nonstandard bobbins, but I got a baggie of like twelve of them with it.

[image description: a Singer 6235 sewing machine, made of beige plastic and beige-enameled metal with black control panels, sits on a wooden desktop. In the background is a framed photo of a pink Easter bunny and a girl in a blue shirt, this is me and Dude from 2007. He rented that costume and wore it to a roller derby bout and got his ass grabbed SO much by many many people who absolutely did not suss that he was a dude in there. But the fluffy tail, he says, protected him.]

And when I opened the top, I found every single accessory lovingly stored there, including the package of needles it came with, still all in their package. So.

[Image description: looking down into the top of the sewing machine, which is molded plastic and has a number of esoteric plastic and metal items carefully stowed within custom-shaped cradles, with a letter key on top which is useless without a manual to decode it but good news I found a PDF copy of the manual on Al Gore's Blessed Internet so all is well.]

The single accessory I'm most excited about, however, is the reason I'm telling you all about all of this, which is otherwise not particularly relevant-- you can sew this bra on any machine that can do a zig-zag, and most of it is constructed with straight stitch because it is almost entirely non-stretch, you just need the zig-zags for the elastic attachments. It is:

A SEAM GUIDE. Which i cannot BELIEVE is no longer standard with sewing machines. It's in the above photo at top right, a metal thing with a knob in the middle. It screws into a hole in the machine bed and then you position it to hold your fabric as you sew, to make sure you do not stray over too far.

[Image description: a view through the sewing machine's active area, showing the presser foot down, the needle in some sheer black fabric, and the little metal item in question screwed into place with the metal arm of it pushed all the way over, actually touching the presser foot, holding the fabric at a 1/4" seam allowance.]

Indispensible. Though, I should have switched presser feet, because when the seam guide touches the edge of this presser foot it's actually slightly over 1/4". Just a fraction, so I've let it be because at least it's consistent and it's better than i was doing in the previous version.

so. This machine is needlessly complicated but works pretty darn well so I'm going to keep using it at least until dude gets back from his work trip on friday night.

I'm a bunch of the way through assembling the second bralette, but I think I'll talk about that in its own post, this has descended into sewing machine wittering. Suffice to say, knowing what i'm doing and what to expect means I'm doing a lot better. I'm also doing all the fiddly shit like pressing seams, and let me tell you, ironing synthetics is pointless LOL, so I'm just topstitching everything. I stopped for the day because the bobbin ran out, it was 9pm, and I looked it up and the way you wind the bobbin on this machine is by keeping the whole thing threaded including the needle and just winding it inside the bobbin case, which is So wild I definitely did not want to attempt it at 9pm after a long day. So, tomorrow I will actually talk about sewing this bralette.

But, I did have one more thing to show off-- I actually have purchased an after-market, universally-compatible seam guide that can just magnet itself to the throat plate of any machine, and was fully intending to use it on this project.

[img description: my hand holding a little metal gizmo with some arcane writing on the front; it's a square with a solid longer piece coming off the top, angled down on both sides.] This one came from Madam Sew or something, and comes with a plastic ruler with holes in it, and the idea is you put the ruler down, put your needle down so it goes through the hole marked at the distance you want, put your presser foot down to hold it, and then snap this magnetic guide at the edge of the plastic, and then it's foolproof. The thing is it doesn't work great at 1/4" either because again, that's where the presser foot is. So. I can't find the plastic ruler currently either because I am a disaster. But if your machine doesn't have a seam guide you can buy one of these and then you have a seam guide. I recommend it 100%; learning to sew a straight line is one thing, learning to follow a seam allowance is another, and you can improve your sewing immensely by taking the easy approach to it. You have to remove the guide for things like topstitching or other fiddly things, but for the vast majority of seams, including curved ones, this works a treat, makes it so you basically don't have to think, and just-- well, as long as your cutting-out was precise, you're guaranteed to get an accurate fit if you just use this kind of dealie to be precise about seam allowances.

The free version is that you get a piece of masking tape, put it down on your throat plate, and mark in Sharpie exactly where your seam should go, a big thick bold line as long as you can get it. That helps a ton too. Cashmerette's knit patterns all have 3/8" SAs, which aren't a standard marking on throat plates, and their wovens are all 1/2" instead of 5/8", so that's *also* not a standard marking, so I have long ago put the masking tape on but sometimes I also just use the seam guide because then I don't have to keep paying attention.

[partyanimal167]

The Mechanic- Kidd x F!Reader

Finally seeing more Kid during Wano, so I might as well write about him. Tbh, I was going to wait until I got my motorcycle license to write this idea but...I don't know when that's going to happen. I be so busy in the kitchen 😅 lol.

Anyway, first time writing a full piece with Kid, so let me know how this. Thanks so much for reading.

CW: black fem reader in mind, modern au, fluff, bubbly reader

Kid will begrudgingly admit it that he did not expect well...you when pulled your bike up for an oil change. You were new in town and had been looking all over the internet for a place to take your precious baby for a tune-up especially after having to leave your mechanic of three years.

He was fiddling with his own bike when he heard your engine cut off. He stood up and looked boredly as you parked and stood up to take your helmet off. Your hair was pushed back and covered in a silk scarf--preventing helmet hair. You looked a little bit nervous as you looked around before making eye contact. You gave him a small smile. "Hi, uh, I have an oil change appointment for Y/N."

He grunted before scribbling your name on a clipboard. "Put your number here." He didn't blther to wipe his hands and got a grease smudge on the paper and pen. You didn't seem to mind though. Kid checked you out a bit when you filled out a couple other forms. You seemed too...sweet...and innocent. There weren't a lot of biker babes in this area, but you definitely didn't fit the stereotype. Your bike was white and you had cat ear attachments on your helmet. Your riding gloves had heart-shaped cut. Your keys jingled, and there were probably three too many lanyards and charm attachments. Certainly those hit your leg when you rode. Kid assumed that you were a newbie who begged to get a motorcycle and would probably drop the hobby after the summer was over. He saw it a lot with all sorts of people (though typically older men who were trying to end a midlife crisis).

"Alright, you can go sit inside. Shouldn't take me too long." he grumbled after you handed the clipboard back. He placed the pen behind his ear.

"Okay! Thanks, take good care of her!" you giggled before heading inside.

Kid rolled his eyes. He was so tired of hearing that from people. He stood over by your bike and glanced at the odometer. His eyes shot wide for a sec. That was...definitely a lot more miles than he expected. You were definitely riding around for years now and probably during the colder months too. He gave a small grin. He'd give you a little more credit.

...

Instead it was another young man who wore a black leather jacket and certainly had an arrogant air about him. His eyes found yours, and he immediately grinned wolfishly. "Oh what a sweet thing you are. What are you doing here in a place like this?"

You rocked in your chair slightly as you looked around the shop space. It was small, and there wasn't a lot of décor really. There were some framed articles about the quality of service and pictures of an older gentleman when the shop had first opened. A bell rung from the door opening, and you turned expecting to see the mechanic from earlier.

You immediately knew where this conversation was going to go. Not many people expected a woman to be riding even during this day and age especially when you weren't always parading around in some fake rockabilly aesthetic. You've gotten your gender wrongfully assumed more times than you can count and had a few unpleasant interactions at the gas station.

You sighed and gave your best fake smile. "Just getting my bike looked at."

He grinned down at you. "Oh really? You should check out my ride some time. I can give you some pointers on driving and stuff."

You wanted to gagged at his offer. "I'm good."

"No need to be shy. There's a lot to learn. You can even practice on mine. I-,"

The bell rung again, and you were happy that the mechanic was back. You looked at the name patch on his shirt: Kid. He still had grease smudges on his face and sweat gathered where his goggles rested. "She's all done." Kid said before walking around to the counter. You stood in front--thankful to end the conversation. "Sweet. I'll-,"

"I'll take care of it, boss. What did the girl need? A simple oil change?" the dude injected himself chuckling while pulling out his wallet.

You didn't turn, but your body froze and you fidgeted with your hands a little. Kid looked at your for a moment before turning his attention to the guy. He shrugged. "Nah. Actually, I just had to replace her tires and engine--whole accident and all." He stared at the computer screen and typed on a few keys. "Definitely a couple grand or so..." Kid trailed off.

The man's face paled, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Uh well...I'll be back...but uh, don't go waiting for me too long." he then rushed out of the shop.

You chuckled, relieved that the man was gone. "Thanks," you reached to take off your backpack.

"Broke bitch," Kid grumbled. He hated guys who tried to show off and act like they knew what they were talking about just because they watched a couple of YouTube videos. Kid held out his hand. "And uh, don't worry about. First one's on the house."

You tilted your head. "Oh really? How nice. I was nervous when I first got here, but I've heard really good things about this place. Thanks so much!" you beamed.

Kid's face reddened slightly, and he shook his head. "I'm just keeping this place together with my old man wandering around in retirement."

You nodded your head. "Well I'm sure you're doing a great job."

Kid paused for a bit before grabbing a random piece of paper and scribbling on it. "Uh, your bike's in really good shape, and 's better than most I come across. There's a bike show a county over happening next week. You should check it out. Show her off and stuff."

You looked over the paper. "Oh how cool! I've been meaning to see if there's any nearby. I'll definitely check it out!" you folded the paper and placed in your pocket. "Will you be going?"

"Huh?"

You laughed brightly. "Well you're the one who told me about it. We should go together! I don't know that many people here, and it'd be nice to hang with an expert."

Kid scratched his head while leaning a bit. "Uh...sure." he plucked out a card from a drawer. "This has my cell on it. Just give me a call." he then handed your keys over. "Be safe out there."

"I will! Thanks, Kid. I look forward to our date!" you then walked out the shop and out of his sight.

Kid stared out the window where you just were. ....A date? He blushed.

~~~

And scene. I definitely like a Kid who stands up to assholes especially cocky ones. Sweaty buff Kid is a sight to imagine. I just know he's putting in work all day and in his element.

Thanks for reading!

(This girl here was all over me while writing this)