#the more I’ll draw the better it will be

[bybobbysbeard]

You choose the ship, just give me #13 :)

Droid, for you. The kiss meme: "Discreetly." Bucktommy, 1000 words, no warnings, mentioned canonical MCD.

Buck thought it would feel weird. Putting his dress blues on again. And it did, a little. The last time he tied this tie he was brittle, sharp and fractured behind a shell of competence. Trying to get his family through one of the worst days of their lives. Now the grief is muted, in the background where it seems to live, a tide that ebbs and flows each day. The feeling hasn’t shrunk, but Buck has grown around it, therapy and love shoring up an eroded breakwater. 

It’s been three months since Bobby’s funeral. 

He tugs on the hem of his jacket, straightening the lines of buttons. He’s found an out-of-the-way corner of the ceremony hall, trying not to draw attention to himself, but still keeping an eye on the rest of his team. Eddie is leaning against the bar, chatting with Lucy and Lena. He’s smiling, ducking his head and laughing while Lena socks him gently on the shoulder. It’s good to see him in uniform again. 

Chim is standing in one of the aisles catching up with a few of the paramedics from B shift. The hollow look in his eyes is finally starting to fade after the lack of sleep and literal running from his feelings made his already lean figure even more trim. But the last month has been better. Like Buck’s grief, Chimney’s guilt hasn’t shrunk, but he has learned to live with it. Maddie, Jee, and little Robbie have helped. 

It looks like Ravi’s gotten trapped coming back from the washroom by a few probies that Buck doesn’t recognize. He’s got a slightly panicked look on his face, so Buck should probably rescue him. And he will, soon. Definitely.

Hen is talking with Chief Simpson near the stage, her shiny new captain’s badge sparkling in the overhead lights. Karen is at her side, one hand tucked into the crook of her elbow. Denny and Mara are nearby, looking at something on Denny’s phone and laughing. They look happy, a family unit celebrating a deserved win. 

It’s such a relief to see that silver shield pinned to Hen’s chest. After Bobby, everything was unmoored. Weeks of uncertainty, Gerrard’s unwelcome presence, and of course, the Pacific Plate trying to shake them all into the ocean again. Buck knows better than to pin his hopes on something like this, but celebrating Hen’s promotion feels like it might be the first step towards a new normal. 

Buck checks his watch. Even though the ceremony is over, the hall is still packed. Considering the year the LAFD has had, it's not a surprise people are taking the excuse to chat. He pulls out his phone, bringing up his text thread with Athena, and sending off a quick message to let her know everyone is still talking, and they’re going to be late for the dinner she’s hosting in Hen’s honour.

Looking down at his phone, he doesn’t notice his visitor until warmth presses up against his arm and a low voice speaks in his ear.

“What’s a handsome guy like you doing over here, all by yourself?”

Buck can’t keep the smile off his face, but he doesn’t look up, sending a thumbs up to Athena’s unimpressed response. “Waiting for my boyfriend, and he knows muay thai, so you had better move along.”

Tommy laughs, a throaty chuckle that makes their shoulders bump together. “Well I don’t see him around anywhere, so I think I’ll take my chances.” A hand slides down to his elbow, slowly spinning Buck away from his view of the room. He pockets his phone and looks up.

Tommy’s head is tilted, scanning over Buck's face, cataloging whatever expression is there. He was pretty good at noticing when Buck was hurting or overwhelmed when they first dated, but the last two months of their second (third? Does the hook-up count?) try have turned him into an expert. He’s been a bulwark, a wall between Buck and the normal world. While Buck focused on keeping the 118 going, trying to be what each member of his team needed at all times, Tommy focused on keeping Buck afloat. 

Some days it felt like Tommy’s steady support was the only thing getting Buck out of bed in the morning. And on the nights when neither of them could sleep, they talked. About their histories, and their families. Why it cost Tommy so much to come back; why it hurt Buck so much for him to leave. 

Buck’s not sure what his face is doing at the moment, but Tommy straightens up, seemingly satisfied. He looks out over the crowd, tracking Eddie, Chim, Ravi, and Hen. “Do we need to get them moving soon?”

We.

Buck just looks at him. He’s clean shaven, cap tucked under an arm, broad shoulders filling out the seams of his dress uniform so nicely. His hair is carefully styled, curls brushed back into that thick wave Buck loves to mess up. The perfect cupid’s bow of his lips is begging for a kiss. They’re surrounded by their coworkers and hundreds of other LAFD members, but Buck chose this spot well. Tommy’s half in shadow, a wall against his back and a support pillar to his left.

Buck leans in, lightning-quick, pressing a barely-there kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

Instinctively, Tommy turns towards him, tightening the grip he has on Buck’s arm. His eyes glitter in the low light. He licks his lips, and hums. “What was that for?”

“I-I’m just happy you’re standing here with me. That’s all.”

Tommy’s hand drops down, tangling their fingers together in the shadows between their bodies. “I’m happy I’m here too, Evan.” He squeezes once before letting go. “Come on, Ravi looks like he’s about to do something desperate. I saw him eyeing the emergency exit a minute ago and I don’t feel like explaining another 118 misdemeanor to Chief Simpson just because I was nearby. I’ve already filled my quota for the year.”

Buck snorts a laugh. “I think it’s officially Hen’s job to explain those now.”

“Thank God for that.”

[revelboo]

Heres photos of my furry toddlers in exchange for all the lovely food you've been giving us

Any chance for a TFA Megs update?

Aww!

The Devil You Know Pt 6

TFA Megatron x Reader

• He’s moving. Feet sliding to keep as far from his pulsing spark as you can, you hear his rumbling voice. Realize he’s talking to someone even if you can’t make out the words. You’re not sure how long you’re trapped, but finally there’s light and a massive servo hooks around you. “Apologies,” he growls as you’re ferried into his other palm. And looking around, you have no idea where you are. “That must have been unsettling,” he adds, deep voice soft with concern as you’re gently lowered onto a metal berth.

• “Where are we?” You ask, looking around, but there’s no fear in your voice. So delightfully trusting still. And he can’t decide if he wants to break you now or stretch it out. To find out if he can coerce you into helping him and betraying your own kind. Because once you realize what you’ve unwittingly done? Watching you break? It’s going to be delicious.

• “My habsuite upon my ship, the Nemesis,” he says, gesturing around the huge space. “My people are refugees and they’ve been so lost without me to lead them home.” And you smile up at him, happy that you could help save him from Sumdac’s cruel manipulation. Can’t believe the professor has been so cruel as to keep him locked away. To experiment on and dissect him. “But something precious was stolen from us when he crashed here and I’m not familiar with this world or its people.” Heart aching for him, because he’s lost and far from home, scared in a strange land.

• “Can I help?” You ask without hesitation and he smiles. Making this far too easy. Bending and reaching out, he lays a servo on your shoulder. Words faltering when you lay your own soft hand on his, still smiling trustingly up at him. How can you believe him so easily? He’d be doing you a favor teaching you this lesson the hard way. If he doesn’t, someone else will and he’d be deprived of the entertainment. Better that it’s him.

• “I’ve already asked so much of you,” he says, deep voice rumbling with worry as he frowns and draws his servo away, staring at his hand. “I’d hate to burden you with my problems.” He must be so worried about his people, eager to check in on them and catch up after being trapped alone so long. And he’s lingering here with you instead.

• “But I want to help.” Of course you do. Feels a ping from the bridge and grits his denta. His followers impatient to be debriefed, to be given direction. Because they’ve failed to accomplish anything in his absence. Straightening, he glances around his habsuite. Supposes you’ll need human things. A place to rest, food, that sort of thing if he’s going to keep this facade going and keep you alive. ‘I’d love nothing more than to have your help,’ he growls, heading for the door. ‘I’ll return, my dearest friend. I’d bring you, but I’m afraid the shock of an alien might upset my people. They’ve been through so much.’

Previous

[yuriartillery]

Agatha and Elizabeth

“Lady Agatha, I’ve brought you your tea.”

I set the platter down on the end table next to my mistress and pour out her tea. She doesn’t take it with milk or sugar, and she always insists that I oversteep the leaves in the pot. Bitter herbs sharpen the mind, she says.

Agatha is sprawled out on her reading chair in her chamber, still in her nightgown despite it nearly being noon. Lady Agatha purportedly drove away several governesses in her youth with her willful and unladylike attitude, and I have personally seen her drive out a fair score of potential suitors in much the same way. I admit that I almost admire her sharp tongue when it’s turned towards those above me, but all too often her disposition grates on me in the way that only a spoiled child can.

“Thank you, Liz. Would you draw the curtains? I have a bitch of a headache.”

Her delicately manicured left hand covers her porcelain face, as she regards me through spread fingers. My lady’s room has a western facing window, and there’s not a single stream of light flowing in at the moment. A catty remark crosses my mind briefly as I walk over to the curtains to draw them.

“Right away, my Lady.”

She’s not fond of sharp or sudden noises, so I carefully pull them together, taking far longer than I would prefer. Once the are curtains shut, I tidy up her room. The laundry maid has often complained that Agatha’s clothes seem to spend more time as makeshift rugs than on her body. She’s still watching me through her fingers, although she hasn’t yet deigned to honour me by turning her head.

“Lady Agatha, forgive me my presumption, but you seem not to be feeling well today. Shall I send word to that factory owner’s son that you won’t be able to entertain him for dinner?”

Exactly on cue, she lets out a put-upon sigh and slumps further into her chair. Mister John Harker has been quite dogged in his pursuit of Agatha, despite her repeated deflections of his various advances. By society’s estimation he’s a perfectly unobjectionable man, though the arrogance he displays by courting far above his station embitters him to me. Not that anyone of standing minds, her parents have been trying to marry her off to any man who will take her, both to finally rid the estate of her presence and to dispel the rumors that they’ve spawned an unmarriageable hellion.

“I’m afraid you didn’t respond clearly enough for me to answer Mr. Harker’s solicitations, my Lady, shall I return after you’ve had time for the tea to settle?”

My mistress is so predictable. As soon as I suggest that I’m about to leave, she immediately rights her posture, combs her hair out of her eyes, and clears her throat.

“Tell that parasitic bastard that I am indisposed in no uncertain terms, Liz.”

She pauses for a beat, her face twisting as venom decants behind her ruby lips, until her expression settles into a malicious grin barely veiled by an austere half-smile. Just as I’m about to prompt her, my Lady speaks.

“On second thought, I’m feeling much better. Your tea always does wonders for me, Elizabeth. Let him know that I would be honored to dine with him alone tonight.”

I know she’s not touched her tea yet, so Agatha must be plotting something. Typically she would hold a massive party so that she could publicly humiliate a suitor. A solo dinner is well outside of her usual mischief.

“Very good, my Lady. I’ll have a messenger send word to Mr. Harker immediately.”

“You must help me get dressed and prepared first, Liz. I can’t host anyone in this state, certainly not him. My hair’s a mess, as is my face.”

I can’t help but smile to myself. Agatha is always so petulant and exacting when she gets an idea like this into her head. Until the very moment her plans begin, she’ll find something wrong with her appearance or presentation and endlessly correct it such that everything is perfect. She’ll need to bathe, get dressed, do her hair, and have at least four hours to make sure that each room in her scheme is arranged to her need.

“Did you bathe last night, my Lady?”

Of course she didn’t, I was with her until I turned out her lights. My mistress never bathes unless I remind her too. She seems startled when I ask this, snapped out of her plots for a moment by the societal expectation of cleanliness. Honestly, she’s helpless.

“Oh! I, well, no…”

“I see, my Lady. I’ll go draw a bath for you now, and I’ll fetch you when it’s ready.”

“Thank you, Liz.”

“It’s no trouble at all, my Lady. Do you have an idea of what you’ll be wearing tonight?”

“…I don’t.”

“Well my Lady, I encourage you to think on it while I prepare your bath. Please excuse me.”

She’s not listening anymore, and I know it. I don’t particularly mind. The look of her perfectly focused face tells she can’t tell if I take a moment outside of her notice. Some time to alert the staff to the general outline of what will be occurring today. I quietly excuse myself from her chambers and look for Anthony, the estate’s coachman and messenger. He seems genuinely excited to be giving Mr. Harker substantial news for a change. I can’t blame the man, it must be exhausting to constantly rebuff the pesterings of a desperate lovelorn fool.

Lady Agatha didn’t outline any of her plans to me before I left, but they all more or less follow a rote routine, so providing advanced notice to the kitchen and cleaning staff has historically improved the odds of my mistress’s plans going off without a hitch.

The bath has always been simple, but unorthodox, to prepare. Agatha prefers her baths to be as hot as possible, so I nearly boil her bathwater. When she’s ready it’ll be the almost scalding temperature that she so adores. I gently knock at the door and let myself in. Agatha has spread a few different dresses out on her bed and the floor and is in deep deliberation as to which dress she should wear.

“I think the sky blue dress would be appropriate for today, my Lady.”

She starts up, like a cat that’s had its tail tread on. I suppress a giggle. She nods to me in agreement and begins to gather up her other dresses.

“Also, your bath is prepared. Leave the cleanup to me, my Lady.”

I reach down to help her upright and she takes my hand swiftly. She pulls herself to her feet in one sudden motion and walks to the bathroom faster than is necessary. Out of the corner of my eye I catch her alabaster cheeks flushing rose, cut off sharply by the slamming of a door. This is routine as well, a startled Agatha can’t bear to be seen by anyone else. I tidy up her room, returning all but the blue dress to her wardrobe. After all is set into its rightful place, I make up her bed and tidy the mess of romance novels on her desk.

A book titled Carmilla catches my eye as I clean, hidden away behind the headboard of Agatha’s bed. It’s in a horrid state, spine bent and broken, pages yellowed with several dog-eared to hold her place. My lady is still bathing, so I take a break from my chores to peruse a few pages. Within seconds I am absorbed so fully that I nearly miss my Lady crying out for my aid. I clear my throat and tuck the novel back where I found it.

“Liz! Elizabeth! I need your help! Now!”

It’s strange, she almost never requires assistance in the bath, but I open the door to the bath and a wave of heavy steam forces me back. I wipe the fog from my glasses and walk in.

“Liz, what took you so long?”

Agatha’s skin is entirely red from the hot bath, but she hasn’t yet wet her hair. I can’t help but sigh, she’s going to insist that I wash her hair. It’s nearly been two months since she last asked for this, I had almost hoped that she had forgotten that I said I’d be willing to. I move behind the bathtub and prepare the soaps.

“Forgive me, my Lady. I was engrossed in my work.”

She pouts, because she can’t help it. I keep my opinions to myself.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore! Now that you’re here, wash my hair! … please.”

I knew it.

“You’ll have to wet it yourself, my lady. I wouldn’t want to appear to be drowning my mistress on the off chance that someone stumbles into your bathroom.”

With a huff, Agatha sinks beneath the steaming water, giving me another opportunity to remove the fog from my glasses. She childishly breaches moments later, splattering both myself and the floor with her bathwater. Every day it grows harder to suppress my annoyance with my mistress. Each interaction is just another trial from God, sent to test my patience.

“Close your eyes, my Lady. We wouldn’t want it to get into your eyes.”

I lather her scalp and begin the laborious process of cleaning her unmanageable amount of hair. Agatha has been famously opposed to it ever being cut. Trimming it to remove the splitting ends has been a battle enough her entire life, the other maids have told me. She’s made a personal enemy of every salon’s proprietor and all of their employees within fifty miles, and now none will ever assent to seeing her.

My mistress sighs with contentment as I work on her. She purrs like a cat when my nails scratch her scalp and mewls pathetically when I move on to more of her hair. There’s some wordless protestation when I wipe my glasses for a third time, but it’s easily resolved with a bit of pointless fawning.

“Alright, it is finished, my Lady.”

She sinks back underneath the water. I have to wait for her to resurface before I leave, lest I provoke another outburst. It won’t be long, as she can hardly hold her breath above water, let alone below it. When she surfaces this time she doesn’t intentionally splash as a seal would.

“If that’s all, I’ll be taking my leave now, Lady Agatha.”

I’m struck by how wounded she looks as I move to leave. With a sigh I turn around and set my glasses on the vanity, as it seems I might be in this teakettle of a room for quite some time.

“Is there something wrong, my Lady?”

There’s a pause as she thinks over my question. She’s clearly troubled, it’s written all over her face.

“What do you think of that Harker bastard, Liz? And you have to answer honestly! Or else!”

It’s now my turn to spend a moment thinking. By all measures he’s an upstanding young gentleman, cordial and polite at every opportunity. He gets along well with all of the servants in our estate, myself excluded, and he’s absolutely filthy rich, so it wouldn’t be beyond him to provide the lavish lifestyle that Agatha insists on.

But despite knowing all of that, I simply cannot stand the man for more than five minutes at a time. His posture is stiff and bent all at the same time, he never knows when to stop joking about with people, and his tireless pursuit of Agatha, despite her obvious intolerance of his existence, makes me wretch. If I were her mother, I would make it clear in no uncertain terms that he is to leave my darling Agatha alone and never show his face in my house again.

“Hmm. Well, in all respects he’s a wonderful gentleman who any young woman would be delighted to marry.”

I can feel my mistress burning holes through me with her glare as I begin my evaluation of her suitor with the same uncritical praise that she’s doubtless heard dozens of times already.

“But, I personally would resign as my Lady’s personal maid if you were to accept his proposal. I cannot stand to share a room with the man, and were it not my duty to ensure he felt safe and welcomed in this estate, I would have denied him entry long ago.”

Agatha looks visibly relieved to hear such a scathing opinion of Mr. Harker. After I finish speaking, she steps out of the bath without warning and wrings out her hair. I nearly stumble as I go for a towel to give her so that she can cover up. It isn’t the first time I’ve seen her fully naked before, so I suppose she must not mind at anymore. I excuse myself to her chambers to help her dress and do her hair after she finishes drying herself.

She’s returned to her silent plotting once she exits the bath, and wordlessly allows me to dress her, not putting up nearly as much of a fight as I’m used to out of her. I prefer her like this, a nice pretty doll for me to dress and groom. I’m almost shocked not to hear any complaining as I do her hair up into a partial crown braid, but she’s within in her own internal world now. The Day of Judgment itself could not rouse her now.

Once she’s fully prepared for the day she gracefully dances out of her room, stopping to offer me a mumbled thanks for dressing her. She’s likely off to let the staff know her particular requirements for tonight’s dinner. I’ll be following her during the late afternoon, but time has flown, and I’m finally allowed one of my breaks, so I go off to the kitchen to have myself a meal.

The cooks are all abuzz about Lady Agatha’s meal request for tonight. Against her parent’s paltry resistance, she’s asked that they prepare all of the most expensive meat they had on hand, and that they were to make enough to feed the entire staff. Nobody is quite sure what awful prank she’s going to play on Mr. Harker, but they don’t care. Wine, bread, cheeses, all are fair game to the staff tonight, so Agatha likely has their entire support.

It’s already late afternoon when Anthony leads Mr. Harker into the foyer. He looks dazzled by the chandelier when I greet him on behalf of Agatha.

“Welcome to the Rosewood Estate, Mr. John Harker. At present, my Lady Agatha is preparing for your meal with her. Forgive her absence; she’ll be with us shortly. Until then, it would be my honor to entertain you.”

My voice breaks his fascination with the crystal chandelier and he laughs nervously.

“Uh, haha, yes, very good. You’re, wait, don’t tell me, I remember your face, uh, you’re Elizabeth! Right, yeah Lizzy, the uh, maid that’s always joined to Aggie’s hip. That’s splendid, I could use your advice.”

I wince when he calls my mistress ‘Aggie’ with such familiarity. Where does he get off thinking that he can use a pet name she despises when she’s done nothing but ignore his telegrams and letters for months? I offer a silent prayer that whatever Agatha has planned will rid us of this vermin for good.

“I’m flattered, Mr. Harker. Not only do you remember a humble servant like myself, but you think so highly of my opinion that you’d ask for my advice. If you would give Anthony your coat, I’ll guide you to the sitting room, where it’d be my utmost pleasure to answer any questions you may have.”

Mr. Harker’s face lights up with an awful juvenile smile as he hands off his filthy longcoat to the coachman. I lead him to the sitting room, opening the door for him and he immediately takes Agatha’s favored seat. His posture is positively uncouth as his miserable form seeps into the chair.

“Should I have a servant put on some tea, Mr. Harker?”

“Tea? No, can’t stand the stuff. I only drink coffee. Lizzy, you wouldn’t believe how rough the journey here from London is, but after months of silence, my beloved Aggie has finally seen sense! Everyone told me that she’d never respond, uh, that she’s always going to be unmarried but I sure showed-”

I can’t bear to hear anymore of his blathering, so I cut him off.

“I’m as pleased as anyone else is that my Lady has finally graced with you an invitation to our humble estate, Mr. Harker. If you would forgive me speaking above my station, what did you intend to ask me about?”

His surprised expression at my directness fills me with equal parts pride for silencing him and anxiety for speaking over a man.

“Uh… right, right, so you know Aggy better than anyone else right, Lizzy? I mean, uh, of course you do. I’ve never seen her without you by her side, uh, so, in your opinion how do you think it’d be best for me to uh, spring an engagement on her?”

Die. I want him to die right now.

“Lady Agatha has always hated surprises. I’m sure someone who cares for her as deeply, as you yourself do, would understand that instinctively. She’s also quite sharp, trying to trick her into saying yes would only put yourself in danger of one of her infamous rejections. Were I in your position, I would be upfro-”

“Ha! Upfront? You’ve got to be joking around with me, right Lizzy? I’ve always uh, been upfront with Aggie about my intentions and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere. Honestly, were I a more cynical man, I’d think she’s uh, preparing to embarrass me like she she did to Georgie, and Percy, and Willy, and…”

He trails off getting quieter and quieter as he lists a number of Agatha’s potential suitors that he personally knew. I take the moment to breathe, trying to quell the seething rage I feel after being so sharply cut off by a dimwitted half-common fool who asked for my advice, then decided he knew better instantly.

“Yes, my Lady has discerning taste. But not one of the unfortunate men you listed were ever personally invited to a private dinner with Lady Agatha.”

Mr. Harker looks up from the fingers he was counting his former rivals on, genuinely shocked at what I had just said.

“Wait, uh, really?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re not pulling my leg, are you Lizzy?”

“This is not the proper time to make jokes, Mr, Harker.”

The smile that appears on his face on hearing this turns my stomach.

“Splendid! Right, uh, sorry for doubting you Lizzy. You’ve been so helpful. Uh, take this as a sign of my thanks.”

He shoves a crumpled wad of banknotes into my hand, then returns to Agatha’s chair, somehow spreading himself in a less dignified way than before.

“Sir, I can’t accept these, I haven’t done anything for you.”

I gently set the money onto an end table nearby Mr. Harker. It stinks like he does. I’ll have to wash my hands once I have some time to myself. When he speaks again, his voice is in a lower tone.

“Oh Lizzy, you’re so humble, I insist. And uh, just between you and me, uh, Percy said the reason why he stopped pursuing Aggie wasn’t because of all of the drinks she spilled on him or the kissing some other man while he was watching or any of that. Percy’s a good-natured chap after all. You could probably cut off his leg and he’d thank you.”

“Forgive me, I’m not sure I understand-”

“He said it was because uh, whenever you’d look at him, he’d uh, feel the chill of the grave. So, uh, if Agatha does become my fiancee, I’d like to have a good uh, you know, relationship with you, Lizzy.”

I notice that I’ve been clenching my fists in my lap during this entire conversation. I relax myself, and give him a halfhearted half-smile.

“Whatever my Lady desires, I will make so. If she truly does wish to marry you, Mr. Harker, I’ll gladly serve you with her.”

“Brilliant! We’ll be thick as thieves in no time, won’t we, Lizzy?”

As if Lady Agatha has any intention of spending one more moment of her precious time with this imbecile after tonight is through.

“I’d imagine we would be, sir.”

Another maid opens the door to let us know that dinner is ready to be served. Harker gets up right away, boundless energy pouring out of his every step. I follow behind and over his shoulders I see Lady Agatha. She’s done her own makeup for this dinner, and though it’s competent, I still wish she had given me the opportunity to do it for her. Even so, at this moment she is the pinnacle of grace and beauty, her dress flowing like water with each step she takes.

“John, it’s so very good to see you tonight. I trust that Liz was a satisfactory substitute hostess while I was making myself presentable?”

Her voice rings out clear and wonderful as church bells, contrasted to Mr. Harker’s boorish mumbling.

“Uh, yeah, Aggie, she was an uh, a great hostess. You uh, look pretty tonight. Uh, Lizzy said it would just be the uh, two of us dining?”

“Yes, I’ve had my staff prepare the meal beforehand so that it can just be the two of us alone, John. I’m quite proud of what my chefs have waiting for us tonight.”

Agatha offers her hand to Harker, which he takes, not even kneeling to kiss it, and then pulls her into the dining room. The doors close behind them and I rush to the washroom to scrub his scent from my hands.

It’s been nearly thirty minutes as I wait alone by the door, hands red and raw from the washing. The air stings. All I can here through the polished oak are polite murmurs as the two eat and chat, though try as I might, I can’t discern the direction the conversation is going.

Doubts begin to eat away at me while the minute hand crawls iota by iota across the clock face. Did Agatha actually have feelings for Mr. Harker that I simply hadn’t noticed? Was this not going to be a prank of hers? Without being able to hear, anything could be going on behind those closed doors. I fall to my knees and offer another prayer to whatever saint can be bothered. Ask God on my behalf to kill that man on the spot.

As I strain my ears I hear a glass shatter and a slight scuffle. I ignore it dutifully, if I am needed then she will come ask for me. Then a dull thump as something hits the floor hard. It is none of my concern, my imagination must be overactive. Then a strangled, gurgling scream. I disregard my station and throw open a door to see if my Lady is safe.

Within the dining hall I see my lovely Lady Agatha on top of a fallen John Harker, her face pressed against his neck and hand covering his mouth. He’s gripping the tablecloth with one hand and clawing desperately at the air with another. The red wine is all over the floor and my Lady’s dress. Harker’s eyes dart towards me and he forces out another gagged scream.

I begin to apologize for my intrusion and turn to leave, when I catch from the corner of my eye thick crimson pool oozing from Mr. Harker’s neck. There’s a tearing sound as she looks at me from atop the bleeding man. She looks up at me and spits out a chunk of his flesh. A jolt of envy courses through me.

“Oh Liz. Right outside my door. Ever my faithful dog. Did you hear that scream and get worried that John was attempting something improper with your master?”

Harker had sunk his teeth into Agatha’s hand, hard enough to make her bleed, but the light is already beginning to leave his eyes. I come to my senses enough to speak.

“What in God’s name are you doing, Agatha?”

She smiles far wider than she’s ever done before, showing off all of her perfectly straight bloodstained teeth. Her voice remains even and tempered, as if she were speaking to her parents or another noble. I’m beckoned over by her free hand and I approach warily.

“John was just blathering on and on and on about his life and how he’ll treat me if we were to get engaged and about his work in the city and all of his terribly boring friends and it was so mind-numbingly dull.”

Her voice is excited and lilting as she continues, but she isn’t talking past me. All of her attention is on me now.

“You know how I get when I’m bored, Liz. I started to look at his neck instead of his face. When he gets excited did you know one of his veins throbs just a little? I got to wondering what it would feel like if I were to sink my teeth into it and then before I knew it-”

She laughs clear and innocent as a church bell. It brings a smile to the corner of my face despite the circumstances.

“I was on top of him ripping out that throbbing vein with my teeth!”

Blood has started to seep into the edges of her dress, the floor is slick with Harker’s life. I get closer to her, and she wrenches her other hand out of his mouth. I kneel beside her and she rests her head on my shoulder.

“And it felt so good, Liz, the heat of his blood pouring into my mouth, the feel of my teeth cutting through skin and muscle alike, the terror in his eyes as he realized that I was going to kill him.”

Agatha lets out a dreamy sigh, running her uninjured hand over the chest of Harker’s corpse. I glare at it. It’s still too much affection for him, from her.

“And the struggle, he bit my hand, you know. How improper of him, he’s meant to be my suitor.”

She takes my cheek with her unbitten hand and turns my head to look her in the eyes. I ask instinctively.

“Is there something you require, my Lady?” My Lady Agatha kisses me on my lips, the bitter iron taste of Harker’s blood fills my mouth, my cheeks reddening from the directness, the impropriety of it. I feel my heart quicken when her tongue meets mine and at this moment I forget about the dead man beside me, the stains to my clothes, and every thought about what I should do now.

The kiss ends abruptly, and I’m still left reeling from the intensity of the situation. Agatha stands and present her injured hand to me. I wrap it with a napkin to staunch the flow of blood. The same smile is still on her face.

“Now Liz, I seem to have made a mess of my dinner. Could you clean up for me?”

[concretejunglefm]

Hey Lexi,

If it's okay, I was wondering if I could send in a thot request of sorts. Something along the lines of life beating the shit out of you and Noah being a big gentle pleasure dom who forces orgasm after orgasm because "you need it, baby." 🥺🥺

Thank you ♥

hi bb! I'm sorry that this is late, I’m sending you big cuddles 🫂💕

CW: pleasure dom!noah vibes, fingering, mentions of squirting

Gentle pleasure dom!Noah knows exactly what you need—especially when your thoughts won’t stop spiraling. He pulls you into his lap with the soft promise of making it all better, of pulling you out of your head, because you need it.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I’ll make it better, baby. Just like I promised. Let me rub it better for you…” he whispers, voice low and warm, his hand already sliding between your thighs, slipping beneath the oversized shirt of his that you’ve stolen for comfort.

Your body melts back against him naturally—soft, pliant, eager for his touch. He kisses along your shoulder, up the column of your neck, to that sensitive spot behind your ear that never fails to draw a moan from your lips.

“You like it when I rub your clit like this?” he murmurs into your ear, fingers moving slow and purposeful.

Your soft, breathless yeah is all he needs to keep going. He listens to every sound you make, each little gasp and whimper, guiding you gently, talking you through what he’s doing the whole way. By the time he slips his fingers inside you, he’s already coaxed two orgasms from your trembling body, praising you between every kiss. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he breathes. “Such a good girl, taking me so well.”

Then he finds that spot—the one that makes your hips jerk and your breath catch, the one that has you writhing from the overwhelming sensitivity—and he leans in closer, his words soft and sure against your ear: “There we go. It’s okay, baby. Don’t hold back, just let it all out…”

And you do. You moan, you writhe, grinding down onto his fingers as he works you through it, his voice steady and encouraging. “You gonna cum? Yeah? That’s my good girl, just like that. It’s okay, baby. Just let go…” Another orgasm crashes through you, leaving you breathless—losing count, but it doesn’t stop there.

You feel something else building—a new pressure, more intense than the usual coil in your stomach, and when it hits, it’s unstoppable. It surges through you like a wave, and suddenly you’re squirting around his fingers, your whole body shaking as a follow-up orgasm tears through you.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes rolling back, completely blissed out. His arms keep you steady, voice soft and grounding, reminding you you’re safe, that you did so well, that he’s not going anywhere.

[rafes-honey]

will there be a part 3? to the one that got away?

Part three of.. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 <3

Part one Part two

౨ৎ

The gas station is quiet in that dead way only 1 a.m. understands.

The kind of quiet that sticks to your skin. That turns fluorescent lights into interrogations and silence into white noise. You’re sitting behind the counter, legs curled under you, chin resting in your palm, watching a moth beat itself to death against the ceiling light.

It’s been an hour since your last customer.

Six days since your last text.

And maybe a week since you’ve felt like a real person instead of a placeholder someone friends stop calling when they’ve got enough warm bodies for the boat.

You shift in your seat, blinking at the dark glass of the storefront, at your own faint reflection in it. There’s something brittle in your face tonight. Something tired. You could blame the hours, but you know better. It’s not the job that’s killing you.

It’s everything else.

Your phone buzzes against the counter, a sharp jolt in the stillness. You grab it instinctively, heart thudding

But it’s not him.

Not the one you’ve been waiting for. Just a fucking scam spam number to tell you that you’ve ran a toll (you didn’t.)

You shut the screen off and set it face-down, harder than necessary. Rage has been ironing you for six entire days and it really hurts cause you don’t know why and it’s just making you silt even more.

And that’s when the bell above the door rings.

You barely look up at first. Just shift your eyes enough to see someone walk in tall, golden, reckless energy trailing behind him like a cigarette drag in the wind.

You freeze.

JJ.

He moves like he’s been here a hundred times and knows you’ll still look. And you do.

He’s in a gray tank, shoulders cut like he’s been fighting ghosts. Sweat on his collarbone, a smudge of sand on his forearm. His hair’s damp, unruly. Wind tousled from wherever he came from. Ocean maybe. Hell possibly. Same difference.

He doesn’t speak right away. Just strolls the narrow aisles, pretending to browse. But you can feel it the way his eyes flick toward you every few seconds. The way he moves slower near the snacks. Like he’s drawing it out.

Finally, he steps up to the counter and tosses a bag of Red Vines between you.

“Dinner.”

You don’t even blink. “Gonna give yourself diabetes.”

He grins, and it’s like a solar flare burning a little too bright, hiding something behind the teeth.

“Then I’ll die sweet,” he says, “like a southern boy should.”

You slide the scanner over the bag with a beep.

He doesn’t take it.

He leans on the counter instead, palms spread wide, body dipping slightly toward you just enough to let the scent of salt and summer hit you in the throat.

“Missed seeing you.”

You scoff, but it comes out dry. “Pretty sure you had your hands full.”

He tilts his head, smiling slow. “So you have been thinking about my hands.”

Your stomach tightens.

You look away.

JJ laughs softly. Low. Knowing.

“What do you want, JJ?”

His voice drops a register. “Do I need a reason to come see you?”

“Yes.”

He steps around the counter.

Your breath catches.

“No customers,” he says, moving closer. “Lights half-dead. You looked lonely.”

You force a smile. “Maybe I like it quiet.”

“I know you do.” His voice is velvet now. “Always did like being alone with me.”

You back up, but he follows. Not fast. Not aggressive. Just… deliberate.

You hit the counter behind you. No more space.

He brackets you there, hands planting on either side of your hips, body not touching but close. Close enough to feel the tension drag between your ribs like piano wire.

You don’t look at his mouth.

You absolutely do not.

He leans down, voice brushing your skin.

“You gonna tell me why you’ve been ducking all of us?”

“I’ve been working.”

He hums. “You’ve been hiding.”

“I’ve been tired.”

“Liar,” he says quietly.

And it’s the way he says it. Not teasing. Not cruel. Just… intimate.

Like he knows.

Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“No,” he says. “But I still want one.”

You stare at him. He’s too close. It’s too much. And it’s never enough.

Your voice drops to a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Just looks at you really looks. His gaze flicks over your mouth. Your jaw. The column of your throat. His breath is shallow now.

Like he’s thinking about it.

Like he wants it.

Like he shouldn’t.

But JJ Maybank was never good at not touching things that burn.

“You look like you need something,” he murmurs.

You swallow. “What do you think I need?”

His mouth hovers near your jaw. “That’s the problem. I don’t think I’d stop if I started guessing.”

Your phone buzzes again.

The spell cracks.

You jerk slightly and reach down to your pocket, flipping the screen over fast.

Just one word lights up:

Rafe 🧸: Outside.

Shit.

… yeah so the total votes on this won’t fully affect the outcome but it could i still got quite a few chapters before the end but so far…

[blulowy]

Day 4 of Hermit a day May!

And I can’t choose between Mother Spore and Hot Guy as favourite alter ego. So why not to draw both? Did the redraw of the DDVAU panel by @kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11 love their designs and art style. Though I feel like I butchered them XD (gods forgive me, I’ll do better when I have more time)

[winniefrezcomics]

Is nmusic phairy a human in your fairly odd au? Or is she nonexistent?:3

She’s the boys’ Music teacher!! I imagine she has dwarfism, so often sits on her piano to address her students more easily! Perry is her not-so-secret favorite student because of his ethereally beautiful singing voice uwu

Transcript:

Nmusic teacher: wonderful! Lovely musical show and tell as always, songbird!

Perry: thank y-

Iris, offscreen: THATS NOTHING!!

Iris: I taught myself how to DEATH METAL SCREAM!!

(Iris inhales deeply, Goldie plugs her ears preemptively)

Nmusic teacher: AH! Wait your turn, please!!

SORRY THIS LOOKS LIKE ASS BTW- I didn’t get a better pic before I tried to line it and completely wrecked it ☠️☠️ I’ll try to draw her properly w the other teachers later sobs

[squishycat330]

ta-da! Raphael! It’s a mix of 2012 Raph with 2018 Raph, Plus some additional ideas of mine!

Basically I wanted to do a full look at how’d thay’d well Look if mixed properly! My first version although nice wasn’t enough so I made this I always wanted to do a character sheet-esk drawing so when I got the chance I did, then I realized Leo would also be another one I could do since he would vary a lot as well, Donnie and Mikey wouldn’t have as much design change so I intended to just do Raph then Leo and then I figured why not do the other two so those’ll be posted at some point!

I ended up adding more later the next day after I finished it!

Anyway back to the drawing here! In the 2018 series the boys are all different types of turtles! Raph is a Alligator-Snapping Turtle, Leo is a Red-eard Slider, Donnie is a Soft shell turtle (creepy), and Mikey is a simple box turtle, (more on them later) and in the 2012 series Donnie says that he suspects their Common-Box turtles and/or Dimond-Back Terrapins,

See I like the idea of them all being different turtles but I also liked the thought of Raph and Leo being Twins So, I mixed Raph’s Snaping turtle with Leo’s Red-eared Slider And the Dimond back terrapin (although I realized later it should have been a Box-turtle instead)

Raphs red eared Slider comes across only by his face with the markings, which are supposed to be smaller then Leo’s markings showing the Snapping-turtle are the more dominant genetics for him

He’s mostly Snapping turtle, his sharp teeth, longer tail, Spikes on his shoulders tail and knuckles (like another particular red character) And elbows. It’s also visible on his shell where he also has spikes but the pattern is supposed to be of the Dimond-Back Terrapin,

I wanted Raph to look more muscular, and wall I was drawing Raph I had to cut and move his Plastron because it was to small and not wide enough then he looked good, so when I draw sleepy Raph down in the corner I kept thinking he looks so WIDE! I ended up calling him ‘Mr. Thick arms’!

he’s my favorite designe out of the three I’ve done so fare and I believe it’ll stay that way! He’s just so visually appealing and Cute~

I figured it’d be appropriate to give him tons of scares and I noticed that on his plastron you can see where it’s chipped that theres a scrape line so that’s an interesting detail I noticed wall drawing! Also I did in-fact keep the tape on his plastron. . .it’s funny ok.

also I want to mention this, the specks on his skin, yeah those took nearly 20 minutes! I had to adjust and place them all in varying sized Segments! Erasing sections one spot at a time! It was a nightmare and made the hole drawing feel longer then it was, I do think it paid off tho! And I did in fact give him a mole on his cheek. . .Leo’s gotta matching one to,

Raph was the first so he’s simultaneously the best and the worst, he’s not as developed as the others but he’s also better looking since I was just havin’ fun with him, the others have more intent and thought so it kinda takes away form it ya know?

. . . Also are those Shorts or underwear that they have on? I know have no idea. . .

Next I’ll post Leo since he was the second one I did! And I good fallow up to Raph since they’re supposed to be ‘Twins’ . . .also spoiler alert he’s gotta Baby face. . . . Drawn, Mon, April 28th

[magic-shop-stories]

Hi, C! You write the most amazing headcanons! They're so detailed and beautiful. Would you be willing to make headcanons for OT7 with a plus-sized girlfriend? I'm trying to start loving my body more rather than conform to any beauty standards. Thank you 💜💜💜

💌 Reply:

Hey there... first of all THANK YOU SO SO MUCH for this beautiful request, I am absolutely with you and that might be one of the reasons it took me so long to write this (I'm sorry) , because I really tried not to make it too much about myself and had to take a break while writing. (not that this is an entirely bad thing but it felt pretty personal at some point and I was scared it would be weird)... anyway - I really hope this is what you wanted and what you were looking for 💜 feel hugged and free to ask for more -c -

BTS OT7 x Plus-Size Partner 

NAMJOON

HOW HE LOVES YOUR BODY

Intellectual Worship

Namjoon doesn’t just see your body

he studies it

not with clinical detachment

with the awe of a man who believes every curve is a stanza in an epic poem

Late-Night Conversations

catch him staring at your stretch marks in bed

fingertips hovering like he’s afraid to smudge a masterpiece

“These, are like the rings of a sequoia. Proof of growth. Survival.”

you laugh nervously

“And far more interesting than my tree metaphors.”

Artistic Parallels

takes you to the Leeum Museum

stands you in front of a Yayoi Kusama infinity mirror

“You’re like this... endless, luminous. Too vast for any frame.”

Protective Advocacy

at a cafe, a stranger mutters:

“She’s lucky to land him.” 

Namjoon turns slowly

voice calm but eyes blazing

“Luck implies randomness. What we have is physics... inevitable as gravity.”

pays for their coffee

“Enjoy the latte. And the introspection.”

after a bad dysmorphia day, he draws a bath scattered with lavender and his own favorite books

“Join me. The water displacement theory is more fun with two.”

HOW HE CELEBRATES YOU

Words as Armor

Love Notes

slips a handwritten quote into your lunchbox

“You are the universe, expressing itself as human for a little while.” — N.T.

adds a PS

“P.S. Your kimchi pancakes are better than the cosmos.”

Lyrical Tributes

writes a verse about your hips for his solo album

“A cradle for the moon / my hands too small to hold such grace.” 

lets you hear it first

“Too cheesy? I can… edit.”

you cry?

he panics

“Good tears? Please say good tears.”

Acts of Service

Food = Love

learns to bake your childhood dessert

despite burning/ruining it three times

presents the fourth with singed eyebrows

“Uhhh... I am a quick study. Eat.”

Nature Therapy

plans hikes to hidden temples

insists on carrying the picnic basket

“Your strength isn’t measured by a backpack. Let me… contribute to the ecosystem.”

HOW HE GROWS WITH YOU

Learning Curve

Mistakes

accidentally buys you a “fitness tracker” as a gift

realizes his error when you freeze

spends the night researching intuitive eating

leaves a tear-stained apology note

“I’m sorry. I’ll be better.”

Education

bookmarks essays on fat liberation

debates toxic diet culture with Jungkook

“Hyung, it’s just a salad...” “It’s never just a salad.”

Shared Vulnerability

Confessions

admits he used to equate “health” with thinness

“I was wrong. Health is… waking up excited to live. You taught me that.”

Mutual Healing

lets you see his own insecurities

= stretch marks from rapid muscle gain, scars from idol pressures

“We’re both… works in progress. Beautifully unfinished.”

HOW HE DEFIES THE WORLD FOR YOU

Public Statements

UN Speech

diverts from his climate script

“Sustainability isn’t just for the planet; it’s for our souls. We must sustain joy, self-love, the radical act of existing unapologetically.”

camera pans to you in the front row

he doesn’t look

he doesn’t need to

Fashion Rebellion

wears a custom suit jacket lined with fabric matching your favorite dress

“So you’re always with me. Even when they crop you out of photos.”

Private Revolutions

Home Sanctuary

turns your shared bedroom into a tech-free zone

“Here, you’re not a ‘body’, you’re my home.”

Legacy Building

plants a gingko tree in your name

“In 100 years, this will remind someone that love outlives labels.”

JIN

HOW HE LOVES YOUR BODY

Playful Devotion

Jin’s love is loud, bright, and relentlessly affectionate

doesn’t whisper metapho

declares your beauty like it’s a universal law

Food = Flirtation

drags you into the kitchen for “mandu-making lessons”

they devolve into flour fights

him smearing filling on your nose

“Yah! You’re supposed to eat the mandu, not wear it!”

pauses, tilts his head

“Though you do look delicious.”

Confidence Contagion

when you shyly adjust your dress, he swoops in, spins you

“STUNNING! ABSOLUTELY STUNNING!”

shouts so loud the neighbors text to ask if he’s okay

“Tell them I’m enlightened.”

he smirk

Public Pride

Red Carpet Flex

chooses matching outfits for events

your billowing silk gown to his sharp tux

whispers

“They’ll say I’m your arm candy. Joke’s on them... I’M THE SNACK.”

Social Media King

posts unedited candids of you mid-laugh

sauce on your chin

captioned “Masterpiece (and also bibimbap).” 

blocks trolls with a flair

“Bye, haters! My GF’s thighs could end you.”

HOW HE CELEBRATES YOU

Dad Jokes as Armor

Affirmation Warfare

you groan about jeans?

he gasps

“You hate pants? Same. Let’s burn them!”

tosses yours into a bonfire (they’re actually his)

presents you with a satin robe

“Now this is fashion. And by fashion, I mean me staring at your legs.”

Silly Serenades

writes a troti song about your curves to the tune of “Super Tuna.” 

“My baby’s soft, my baby’s round, my baby’s the best snack in town!” 

performs it ONLY for you

Acts of Service (Chaotic Edition)

Spa Sabotage

books a couple’s massage

then bribes the staff to let him DIY it

ends up kneading your shoulders like bread dough

“I am a natural. You’re welcome.”

Fitness? FUN-ness

drags you to a trampoline park

“We’re not here to ‘exercise’... we’re here to bounce haters out of our brains.”

flips mid-air

breaks a spring

blames Jungkook

HOW HE PROTECTS YOUR PEACE

Shutting Down Critics

Clapbacks with Class

at a fanmeet, someone asks:

“How do you stay fit dating… her?”

Jin freezes

laughs

“How do you stay rude dating… your personality?”

crowd roars

later, he buys you ice cream

“They’re just jealous I’m taken. Understandable.”

Family Defense

an aunt side-eyes your third serving at Chuseok?

Jin piles more kimchi on your plate

“She’s cultivating mass. For… science. Right, jagiya?”

winks

“Eat up, my little researcher.”

Private Sanctuary

No Mirrors, No Problems

covers the bedroom mirrors with K-drama posters

“Now we can focus on what really matters... my face.”

lets you peel them off one by one when you’re ready

Bad Day Protocol

brings you his childhood teddy bear, and a bucket of fried chicken

“Fluffy’s on hug duty. I’m on wing duty. Cry if you need to... I got napkins.”

HOW HE GROWS WITH YOU

Learning (the Jin Way)

buys you a “diet” cookbook as a joke

realizes it’s not funny when you flinch

burns the book in the backyard while roasting marshmallows

“New rule: no diets, just s’mores.”

binge-watches My ID is Gangnam Beauty with you

“See? Even the ‘perfect’ girl’s miserable. Let’s stick to our drama, it’s way funnier.”

Shared Vulnerability

admits he used to worry about “matching” society’s couple standards

“But then I realized... why be a ‘power couple’ when we can be a comedy duo? Way more Oscars.”

joins you in a plus-size yoga class

“Hyung’s flexible... prepare to be amazed!”

sprains his ankle

you half-carry him home

“See? You’re the strong one. I’m the damsel.”

HOW HE DEFINES FOREVER

Proposals & Pancakes

hides a ring in a pancake stack

“Eat up! There’s a surprise…”

panics when you almost swallow it

“WAIT! SPIT IT OUT!”

you cough up a diamond

he kneels, syrup in his hair

“Marry me? Hyung’s a mess without you.”

Wedding Vows

“I vow to always steal your fries, defend your honor, and remind you that you’re the original visual.”

Legacy of Laughter

teaches your future kids to roast diet culture

turns your love story into a webtoon:

“Worldwide Handsome & the Goddess of Chaos.” 

you’re the protagonist

he’s the “plucky sidekick”

YOONGI

HOW HE LOVES YOUR BODY

Unspoken Reverence

doesn’t wax poetic

he observes

his love language is in the pauses between words

= the way his calloused fingertips linger on the softness of your hips when you pass him in the kitchen

as if memorizing the topography of a place he calls home

Studio Sanctuary

builds you a corner in his studio with a velvet couch he salvaged from a flea market

“You’ll distract me"

grumbles, but leaves the door cracked when he works.

later, you find a demo track titled “Adagio for Softness”

melody mirrors the rhythm of your breathing

Practical Praise

notices you avoiding mirrors

replaces the bathroom one with a vintage oval frame etched with “Proof of Life” in Hangul

“Now it’s art. Stop glaring at it.”

Defiant Intimacy

Private Rituals

traces the stretch marks on your thighs during thunderstorms

“These look like soundwaves. Let’s sample them.”

records the static of his fingertips against your skin

loops it into a beat

“Hm. Better than most synth pads.”

Nighttime Honesty

wakes you at 3 a.m.

voice rough with sleep

“You’re warm. Like… stupid warm. C’mere.”

pulls you into his chest

nose buried in your hair

“S’nice.”

HOW HE PROTECTS YOUR PEACE

Silent Advocacy

Industry Shade

overhears a producer joke about “idols dating outside their league.”

Yoongi cancels their collab

replaces it with a track featuring your laughter

lets the diss track speak for him

“Your ego’s a skip button / I’m the whole damn album.”

Public Moments

at a fansign, someone asks if he “prefers petite girls.”

he deadpans

“I prefer people who don’t ask dumb questions.” 

later, buys you tteokbokki

“Eat. You’re my human shield against idiots.”

Safe Spaces

Fashion Rebellion

sneaks you into his closet

lets you borrow his oversized hoodies

“They’re warmer on you.”

doesn’t admit he loves how you drown in them

Tech Guardian

sets up a spam filter on your phone after hate comments

“Keyboard warriors are amateurs. I’ve fought bigger demons.”

he means sleep deprivation

HOW HE CELEBRATES YOU

Subtle Grandeur

Mixtape Love Letters

creates a playlist called “For When the World Sucks” 

filled with Nina Simone, your shower singing, and ambient rain

leaves it on your phone with no explanation

Food = Affection

masters your grandma’s kimchi recipe

“It’s not for you. Just… the fridge was empty.”

lets you catch him smiling when you moan over the first bite

Growth & Grit

Learning Curve

googles “how to support body positivity” at 4 a.m.

accidentally lectures Jungkook about diet culture

“Hyung, I just wanted ramyeon...” “Read the room.”

Shared Scars

shows you his shoulder surgery scars

“Used to hate these. Now they’re just… proof I survived.”

kisses the stretch marks on your stomach

“Same energy.”

HOW HE DEFIES EXPECTATIONS

Creative Rebellion

Lyricism

writes a verse for Agust D

“They say love’s a narrow lane / fuck that, mine’s a wildfire.” 

lets ARMY assume it’s metaphorical

you know better

Photography Passion

sneaks candid shots of you:

mid-laugh, flour in your hair, napping with Holly

exhibits them anonymously at a indie gallery titled “The Muse They Can’t Crop”

Quiet Revolution

Home Rituals

bans scales from the house

“We’re not scientists.”

replaces them with a vintage radio that only plays calm songs

“Better for the soul.”

Legacy Building

funds a scholarship for plus-sized dancers

“Talent’s not a size. And I’m rich.”

J-HOPE

HOW HE LOVES YOUR BODY

Unshakable Hype Man Energy:

he doesn’t just accept your bod 

celebrates it like it’s his life’s mission

love language = amplification

turning your insecurities into anthems

Morning Rituals

whistles dramatically when you walk into the kitchen

“Wow. Who gave you the right to wake up looking like a whole sunrise?”

dances around you while you make coffee

hip-checking the counter

“Move over, world! The main character’s here.”

Dance Floor Devotion

creates a TikTok series called “Choreo for Every Body” 

he designs moves highlighting your curves

like the “Soft Shimmy” (a shoulder roll that melts into a hip sway)

“Joyful Jiggle” (a bouncy step that makes your laughter the beat)

fans lose their minds

you blush?

he reposts your duet with 🌟#REALMUSE

Fashion as Rebellion

Custom Designs

collaborates with a size-inclusive brand to launch a line named “Hope’s Horizon.” 

signature piece?

= sequined bomber jacket with “Art Never Fits in a Box” embroidered inside the collar

his only request: you model it first

“You’re the blueprint, baby.”

Everyday Glam

sneaks into your closet and replaces old hoodies with cropped cardigans in bold patterns

“Trust me... your waist deserves frame status.”

when you fret, he strikes a pose in the mirror beside you

“Look at us. Visual violence.”

HOW HE PROTECTS YOUR PEACE

Shutting Down Noise

Live Stream Justice

during a VLIVE, a comment pops up

“Is your girlfriend on a diet for the tour?” 

Hobi’s smile doesn’t drop, but his eyes turn glacial

“Diet? Nah, we’re on a joy diet. Today’s menu: self-love tacos and zero fucks.”

blocks/reports the user mid-laugh

“Next question!”

Behind-the-Scenes Boss

catches a stylist muttering about “limited options” for your red-carpet debut

next day, he arranges a meeting with the design team

“I need five looks. Her size is ‘iconic’... make it work.”

leaves humming “Cypher Pt. 4” louder than necessary

Safe Space Curator

Mirror Magic

covers your bathroom mirror with sticky notes

“J-Hope’s #1 Crush Lives Here”* / “Warning: Hot Person Zone” / “You’re 100% My Type (All Types Are My Type).”

Guilty Pleasure Defense

catches you side-eyeing a dessert menu

slides it toward you

“Hobi's paying. Hyung’s also judging you if you don’t order two.”

HOW HE GROWS WITH YOU

Learning Through Love

Mishaps to Moments

buys you gym gear as a “fun surprise!”

realizing too late it echoes toxic diet ads

you freeze?

he backtracks

“Wait, no... I’m the gym! Dance with me!”

cue an impromptu living-room workout to “Chicken Noodle Soup.” 

ends with you both breathless

“See? Fitness is… whatever makes you feel alive.”

Education with Flair

drags you to a body-positive dance workshop

volunteers you both for the front row

“If I can’t nail the waacking, no one can!”

spoiler: he nails it

you both leave sweaty

Vulnerability in Verse

Lyric Diary

writes a song called “Army of One” about your journey

chorus: “You fought a war I never saw / Let me be your ceasefire.” 

plays it on loop in the car until you memorize the words

Confessional Nights

admits he used to think love was fixing people

“But you’re not broken. You’re… masterpiece.”

pokes your dimple

“And I’m the lucky bastard who gets to frame you.”

HOW HE REDEFINES “PERFECTION”

Stage Revolution

Concert Spotlight

surprises you during his “= (Equal Sign)” solo by pulling you onstage

screens zoom in as he whispers:

“They need to see what real magic looks like.”

you freestyle

he matches your rhythm

all sharp grins and softer edges

ARMYs trend “Hobi’s Muse” for weeks

Choreo Easter Eggs

hides a move in “Dynamite” where he pats his belly and blows a kiss to your seat

fans decode it as “Love Yourself” in sign language.

it’s not

he’ll never tell

Private Celebrations

Anniversary Extravaganza

rents a carnival for the night

wins you a giant plushie,

drags you on the Ferris wheel

“Look...the stars are clapping for you.”

gets sick when you ride it together

Scrapbook of Smiles

fills a photo album with candids of you mid-laugh

double-chin and all

captions: “Proof the world bends toward joy.”

JIMIN

HOW HE LOVES YOUR BODY

Tactile Affirmation

his hands are never still

they trace the swell of your hips during movie nights

knead the softness of your thighs after long days

cradle your face like you’re made of stardust

“You’re so warm."

murmurs, pressing his cheek to your belly

“This is where the sun lives, isn’t it?” 

you tense?

he nuzzles closer

“Let me stay here. I’ve been cold for so long.”

Mirror Rituals

after his own brutal history of body scrutiny, he hates mirrors

until he stands behind you in one

fingers laced over your stomach

“Look. See how we fit? Like we were sculpted for this.”

kisses the pulse point below your ear

“Every part of you… it’s where I belong.”

HOW HE PROTECTS YOUR PEACE

Food as Rebellio

reminded oh his own diets, he now cooks with reckless abandon

masters your favourite family recipe

feeds you bites off his fork with a defiant grin

“They told me food was the enemy. But look... this is love.”

you hesitate?

he licks sauce from your chin

“You’re not ‘cheating.’ You’re living.”

Safe Spaces

scouts restaurants beforehand to ensure comfy seating

“No, hyung... the booth, not the chair. She deserves to relax.” 

carries a sweater in his bag to drape over your lap if a dress rides up

“Not because you need to hide. Because the world doesn’t deserve you yet.”

HOW HE CELEBRATES YOU

Dance of Devotion

in the privacy of your living room, he choreographs a duet just for you

“Follow my lead."

lets you steer, his hands firm on your waist as you sway

“You move like the ocean. Powerful. Unstoppable.” 

records it on his phone

watches it when he’s away

“My favorite performance.”

Affirmation Arsenal

leaves sticky notes in your makeup bag

“Your laugh is my favorite sound.” “Your stretch marks glow like moonlight. Let them shine.” “You’re the reason I believe in softness.”

HOW HE CONFRONTS HIS PAST TO CHERISH YOUR PRESENT

Shared Scars

one night, he shows you a photo from his trainee days

gaunt cheeks, hollow eyes

“I used to think this was strength”

voice cracking

“But you… you’re the strongest person I know. You carry your heart and mine.” 

wipes your tears with his sleeve

“Don’t cry. We’re free now.”

Defiance in Detail

buys you lingerie in his favorite color

“Wear it for you, not me. But if you want me to beg, I will.” 

when you model it, he doesn’t look at your body

he stares into your eyes

“You’re so… bright. How do I deserve this?”

HOW HE SILENCES THE NOISE

Public Shield

at a fan event, someone shouts:

“How do you stay fit dating her?” 

Jimin’s smile drops

“How do you stay rude dating your personality?” 

crowd gasps

later, he tweets: “Love isn’t a weight class. Blocked.”

Private Vows

throws out his old scale

replaces it with a Polaroid camera

“Every time you feel ‘too much,’ take a photo. I’ll write why it’s not enough… because you’re infinite.”

HOW HE LOVES HIMSELF THROUGH LOVING YOU

Healing Loop

watches you apply lotion, mesmerized

“Can I…?”

kneels, massages it into your calves

“You’re so gentle with yourself.”

whispers

“Teach me.” 

lets you rub arnica into his dancer’s bruises 

“See? We’re both learning.”

Legacy of Light

tattoos a tiny sun behind his ear

“So I never forget where my warmth comes from.”

TAEHYUNG

ARTISTIC ADMIRATION: YOU ARE HIS MUSE

Portraits of Devotion

his camera roll is 90% you

not posed or filtered

but candid

= you laughing mid-bite of tteokbokki, sunlight catching the curve of your hip as you stretch, your reflection in a rainy bus window

he prints them as polaroids and tacks them to a corkboard titled “My Living Louvre.”

Exhibition of Love

rents a tiny gallery space for your birthday

the exhibit? 

“Unedited: A Celebration of Human Light.” 

each photo is paired with a handwritten note

“This is the moment I realized joy has no size.”

Body as Art

sketches you during lazy Sundays

charcoal smudged on his cheek

“Stop moving; your collarbone looks like a bird mid-flight.”

frames the drawing beside his bed

“So I remember to dream in your shape.”

WHIMSICAL AFFECTION: LOVE AS PLAY

Fashion Alchemy

Taehyung raids thrift stores to craft outfits that scream you

velvet corset over a flowing skirt? 

“You’re a Baroque painting come to life.” 

baggy overalls with sequined boots? 

“My disco-era goddess.” 

he’ll argue with stylists who suggest “slimming” cuts

“Why hide a masterpiece?”

Matching Magic

designs couple outfits where his look is simple

letting yours shine

neon tracksuit for him

billowing silk gown with your favorite flowers embroidered for you

posts it

“She’s the main character. I’m just the hype man.”

Spontaneous Joy

Midnight Adventures

drags you to a 24-hour arcade

wins a giant plushie

declares, “This is your body double. Flawless.” 

lets you name it something ridiculous

Foodie Love

feeds you hotteok at 3 a.m.

wiping syrup off your chin with his thumb 

“You eat like… a happy bear. It’s my favorite thing.”

PROTECTIVE FEROCITY: YOUR KNIGHT IN BERET ARMOR

Shutting Down Noise

at a party, a model mutters:

“How’d she bag V?” 

Taehyung loops an arm around your waist

grinning dangerously

“Funny, I was just wondering how you bagged audacity.” 

later, he slow-dances with you alone on the balcony

“Let’s never come back here. Unless you want to.”

Digital Defend

a troll comments “Lose weight” on your joint selfie

he replies with a close-up of his middle finger

“Artistic interpretation of my feelings.”

floods your posts with heart emojis

“Now the algorithm knows what’s important.”

SHARED CREATIVITY: BUILDING WORLDS TOGETHER

Collaborative Projects

turns your stretch marks into a mural

mixes gold paint to trace them on a canvas

whispering

“Kintsugi for the soul.” 

hangs it in the living room

guests ask: “What’s it mean?” 

he winks

“That brokenness is just light waiting to shine.”

writes a song called “Velvet Thunder” 

it's about your laughter

records your voice saying “I love you” as the outro

ARMYs sob

you sob harder

Vintage Love Letters

finds a 1950s typewriter to write you love notes

“Dearest, your beauty is timeless. Unlike this machine... it keeps jamming. Just like my heart when you walk in.”

GROWTH & VULNERABILITY: LEARNING TO HOLD SPACE

His Confessions

after a photoshoot

“I used to think love was about fixing people. But you… you’re not broken. You’re a whole damn symphony.”

lets you see his own insecurities

“We’re both… art in progress. Messy. Human.”

Rituals of Reassurance

starts “Gratitude Sundays”

listing things he loves about your body

“Your arms... they feel like coming home. Your thighs; my favorite pillows.”

when you have a bad day, he wraps you in his oversized denim jacket

“This is my armor. Now it’s yours.”

JUNGKOOK

HOW HE LOVES YOUR BODY

Unfiltered Adoration

Jungkook’s love is loud, tactile, and unapologetically sincere

doesn’t intellectualize your curves

celebrates them with the enthusiasm of someone who’s found his favorite playground

Playful Worship

pokes your stomach during movie nights just to hear you laugh

“It’s so soft. Like a marshmallow. Can I nap here?”

falls asleep with his head on your lap

arms wrapped around your waist like a koala

Gym Buddy Redefined

drags you to the gym

but it’s all about fun

challenges you to weightlifting contests

cheering when you out-lift him

“You’re a beast! Let’s get matching ‘World’s Strongest’ shirts!”

posts a boomerang of you togehter

Protective Instincts

Public Defense

at a fan meet, someone whispers:

“How’d she getJungkook?” 

he overhears, slings an arm around your shoulders

grins

“Nah, I got her. Took six months of begging. Right, jagiya?”

crowd erupts

your face burns

he kisses your temple

“Worth it.”

Private Reassurance

after a bad day, he notices you avoiding mirrors

silently lifts you onto the bathroom counter

stares into your eyes

“You’re perfect. Let me list why.”

proceeds to ramble about your laugh, your thighs, the way you “look like a goddess”...

HOW HE CELEBRATES YOU

Adventures in Joy

Jungkook turns self-love into a thrill

Spontaneous Photo Shoots

drags you to a photobooth

squishing both of you into the frame

“Smile! We’re gonna be legendary.”

keeps the strip in his wallet

shows it to everyone

“See? We’re, like, visual icons.”

Food = Love Language

masters your favorite desser

feeds you bites mid-VLive

fans freak out

“What? She’s my taste-tester. And my muse.”

licks frosting off your thumb

“Accident.”

Secret Romantic

Custom Gifts

learns embroidery to stitch “Jungkook’s Favorite Masterpiece” on a hoodie

"forces" you to wear it on dates

“Proof you’re mine. And also… comfy.”

Late-Night Serenades

sings “My Time” with rewritten lyrics

“Your time, your curves, your fire—I’m just lucky to be here.” 

records it as your alarm tone

“Now you’ll wake up to art.”

HOW HE GROWS WITH YOU

Learning Curve

accidentally buys you a crop top

thinking it’s “cute."

reads your hesitation

immediately donates it and replaces it with a cozy sweater

“I am an idiot. But I’ll learn.”

watches documentaries on body positivity

texts you clips at 3 a.m.

“THIS IS WHY SOCIETY SUCKS. YOU’RE A GODDESS.” 

debates haters on social media

gets blocked

“No regrets.”

Shared Vulnerability

admits he used to equate “fitness” with being thin

“But you’re the strongest person I know. Changed my whole… brain.”

flexes your bicep (let's you)

“See? This is goals.”

Mutual Healing

lets you see his own insecurities

“We’re both… human. But humans are kinda magic, right?”

HOW HE DEFIES THE WORLD FOR YOU

Public Rebellion

Stage Shoutouts

dedicates “Euphoria” to you during a concert

“This song’s about feeling alive. She taught me what that really means.”

ARMYs sob

you melt

Fashion Flex

wears a “Love Has No Size” shirt under his stage outfit

flashes it during encore

trends for days

manager sighs

“Worth it”

he smirks

Private Oaths

Home Sanctuary

turns your shared space into a no-criticism zone

“Here, you’re everything. Outside noise stays outside.”

plays WWE wrestler to “defend” you from imaginary haters

you laugh until you cry

Legacy Building

tattoos a tiny heart on his ribcage

your initials inside

“So even when I’m old and saggy, I’ll remember who loved me first.”

[cosmique-oddity]

Napping underwater

@keferon i don’t know how to thank you for the atmosphere and the ideas you give to your AU’s, here’s what you work inspire to me. Yes it’s an apocalypse. Well ……they will die after cuddling.

[chloesimaginationthings]

How Michael’s interview with Phone dude went in FNAF 3

[rystiel]

part 2 to this (turns out he never got around to showing someone that mind reading crystal)

(part 3)

[boomposhpow]

back on my bullshit again

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

Merry Christmas ya’ll

[saint0psy]

Soul eating boys

Self indulgent Soul Eater au with Meister Charles and Weapon Edwin! I’ve drawn Meister Edwin too but like…. Classic scythe Edwin….. anime Maka weapon manifestation moment….. excuse to put Charles in more tartan…..

[iknowwhereyousnoozeatnight]

L with a cat :3