#usually run by black artists & whatnot

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

originally i didn't think it made sense for hobie to have his own mj because if gwen is a rocker in his world it stands to reason that mj would still be a part of her band or at the very least part of the scene at the same time since like.... they're way more connected as characters than 616 hobie is to either of them but also it would be super funny if hobie knew someone who went by mj specifically because they were as big a fan of the mary janes as he is

[gricean-sphinx]

A Guide to Abbreviations and Terminology on Chicken Smoothie

Ah, yes! CS abbreviations. There are so many, lol, especially trading lingo. Let's see...

Pets' Growth Stages

OK, to start off there are a handful of easy abbreviations that refer to pets' growth stages:

PPS / EPPS / and kinda, sorta GUPPS

PPS stands for Peter Pan Syndrome and refers to a pet that will never grow to an adult stage. It's usually an "outcome" in a litter that is a little special like that c: Most (but not all) PPS pets will have that abbreviation on the pet image, and the pet info page will say: "PPS This pet has "PPS". What's that? Here's a PPS pet from February:

EPPS is a term that means "early" or "extreme" PPS and is used to refer to PPS pets that never grew from their newborn/first stage. Here's an EPPS pet from February:

Finally, GUPPS stands for "grown up" PPS. This one's a bit weirder because it refers almost exclusively to pets that are released during the advent calendar, when artists of a PPS pet released earlier in the year choose to create an adult version of it. For example, this puppy was originally released in Oct. 2023, then the artist made a "grown up" version for the Advent Calendar in December. The grown up version is a GUPPS:

Trading

The shorthand "WL" stands for "Wish List." The acronym "FTT" stands for Fair-Trade Thread, which is a very popular and useful thread on the forum where you can post a link to a trade you sent or received, and other users will give their opinion on whether it seems fair or not. Some users refer to duplicate pets of the same outcome as "dupes."

Trading Status There are also some shorthand terms users will write into their pet names or pet group names that give you an idea of their trading status, like:

HTTF - "hard to trade for"

VHTTF - "very hard to trade for"

NFT - "not for trade"

UFT - "up for trade"

UFA - "up for auction," or sometimes, in the free adoptions forum board "up for adoption"

Pets' Rarities There are a handful of very easy-to-learn abbreviations that refer to pets' rarities:

OMGSC - OMG So Common

EC/XC - Extremely Common

VC - Very Common

C - Common

UC - Uncommon

VUC - Very Uncommon

EU/EUC/XUC - Extremely Uncommon

R - Rare

VR- Very Rare

ER - Extremely Rare

OMGSR - OMG So Rare

High Value Trades This is where things start to get complex. I'll explain some abbreviations that are common when trading high value pets, but if you start getting confused about what even is happening at this stage, don't stress about it: we can go over how high value trades work and whatnot in the future, if you like c:

High Value Pets Usually, the user base will agree on names for certain pet litters and outcomes to make trading and talking about pets easier. So if someone says "White February," I know they're talking about this white wolf that was originally released in 2009.There are certain high-value pets that come up so often in discussion that users have shorthanded their names into acronyms. Here are some popular examples I can think of:

BA - Black advent

BMD - Bernese mountain dog

TWA - Timberwolf advent

RBM - Rainbow mane

GWJ - Growing white July

BEG - Black-eyed galaxy

CEG - Clear-eyed galaxy

GSD - German Shepherd Dog

WWA - Winged wood angel

(Tangent: if you know the year and month a pet was released but not their (un)official name, there's a really cool archive run by CS users called Chicken Smoothie Transpets that basically functions like the archive, but it lists the widely agreed-upon names of relevant pets, including the acronyms!).

High Value Worth Shorthands Because trading high-value pets on CS can be a bit complex (since we don't know exactly how much rarer certain pets are compared to others; we only know estimates according to their rarity labels), there have been user researched and made guides to trading OMGSR and ER pets taking into account their demand and estimating how many are found up for trade. The current such guide that seems to be popular right now is Horror's [🐝] Guide to Trading Every Pet on CS. In order to trade certain high-value pets for others at the more or less agreed upon values, most of the userbase use certain labels to describe a pet's worth:

OR - Stands for Old Rares and refers to rare pets from 2010-2011

MA - Is equal in worth to 10 ORs. It stands for "Mid Advent," mostly as a leftover term from an older guide. It's not really important to know exactly why this term is used, and I feel like I am already giving you too much info, so maybe I can tell you the story another time XD. MAs are used to measure the more valuable pets on the site.

Non - Is equal in worth to 10 MAs (or 100 ORs). The term comes from the unofficial names of some of the earliest dogs to be released on CS.

True Date, Un-Released and Re-Released Pets Lore - December 18th is a really exciting day for the whole CS userbase. It is the day. The only day when all users have a chance to adopt pets that were released on previous years and are no longer available though the Adopt page. It is the only day you can adopt a very rare or more valuable pet reliably on the site—I hope you're around for that!

RR - Pets from previous years that are adopted on Dec. 18th are called Re-released pets, or RRs.

TD - In contrast, pets that were adopted in the month and year when they were originally released are called True Date pets, or TDs.

UR - Finally, Un-released pets, or URs are also adopted only on December 18th, but unlike every other pet given out on that day, UR pets have never been released normally before. They are always extremely rare and valuable. You can find the UR pets released each year under the "Special Releases" tab of the archive.

COPPA Sorry for the info-dump. Take a breath, we're back in easy territory c: You may see users mention COPPA users in their tarde rules and such. The acronym stands for "Children's Online Privacy Protection Act." To comply with this act, CS allows kids under 13 years old in the US to make an account and collect pets, but not to participate in the forums or write trade messages.

And, well, that's probably too much information already! But I hope you find it helpful. And if you have any questions about any abbreviation or terminology being used around the site, don't hesitate to ask. I promise to return a shorter answer next time! Let me know what else I can help out with or if you want to dig deeper into any of the subjects I mentioned above. c:

[harrison-abbott]

His dog had a problem with her bladder these days. Which meant that she peed herself a lot. And she didn’t usually stay at this house, but she was staying here for the weekend, so it was his job to take her a few walks at night so that she wouldn’t wet the carpets etc. He usually was up at nights, because he was a lifelong night owl. So he took her out of the house around 3 am, and walked up the street. The suburb was quiet and the trees by the road were lush with late spring/early summer, the air warm, and the scents of pollen rife.

He headed up to the end of the road, which had been cordoned off in modern times because of the floods that had buckled the river, with a stream of the water now running along the street and into the woods. All the council had done to fix things temporarily was to put up a FLOOD sign at the rear end of the road.

Next to this part was the derelict building site; there used to be a bloodbank here. It was this odd mysterious building where they kept the blood of, well, people across the city’s, blood in containers, so it was a securitised building and premises. But they knocked it all down a jumble of years back. And so now there was only a field of rubble and soil, weeds and masonry that they couldn’t remove. But, you couldn’t see a lot of it anyway because they had put six foot fencing up around the field.

And, on the fencing, for the last few years that it had been erected, there had been folks that came along and graffitied on it. As in, they came and spraypainted slogans and words and whatnot. The way some folks do. It is odd how you never see them, the graffiti people, if that’s what you call them: they seem to operate in weird times and you only know their signature in the daytime after their events … But, anyway, there had been loads of graffiti on the fences. Mostly just silly pseudonyms from the artists themselves, with their wacky italic writing, the irony of their names or titles being that you can hardly ever read them.

There were other signs as well. One was from a national football team. And in other parts there were simply crude drawings of marijuana plants, or, meh, just petulant stuff.

However, the last time he had crossed these fences there were signs saying FREE GAZA, and, END THE WAR. And, he noticed now, that these slogans had been blackened out. Very deliberately, with black paint. I.e., somebody had come along and blotted out these words.

What made it the most bizarre was that none of the other graffiti had been erased in the same way.

At first, he thought that whoever owned the field had hired somebody to come and blacken out all of the graffiti. But it was literally only those few parts that had been deleted. They didn’t do the same with the football stuff or the crude pictures.

What made it all the more bizarre was that it was such a hushed part of the city. There would have been maybe twenty people or so who walked along this road each day. It wasn’t busy by any means. And yet, in this secretive, dark, narrow street there was this mix of public consciousness and legality, this wavering of unexplained mystery.

His dog peed in the grass beside the fence, unaware of its suggestibility. And then they simply walked back home, careful not to wake anybody else in the house up at three in the morning.

[squibll]

CW: personal, talking abt food and weight issues

had a convo w my gma abt my weight and about how im losing a lot of weight even when i think im eating a lot bc im not actually eating that much

i think this has to do a lot with my eating habits living away from family or even from college changed drastically, and due to living with others i naturally have to be more cautious about my food intake of shared foods which is most of the foods in the house. my additude towards food and my weight has always been very turbulent, im not gonna say it never was and im definitely not gonna say it hasn't contributed to my current eating habits/weight loss, it definitely has. but i have a lot of trouble admitting this internally?

i think its really difficult for a person with food issues in any capacity (whether that be via disordered eating or just internal struggles with ones relationship to food) to admit that to themselves, and when they do, its really hard for them to see much actual issue with it. i think this is caused a lot by the world and modern society putting a lot of value on thinness and weighing as little as possible while mocking and vilifying fat people because of a perceived laziness and lack of care for oneself for the sole crime of... being fat.

i often find myself putting myself down for my weight now and before i started losing so much. I don't even know how much i weigh atm and i dont think i want to because it would only further motivate my destructive eating (or lack thereof) habits. i got a lot heavier even before i started t, and then kept getting heavier after because the t increased my hunger by a lot when i first started out. it wasnt really until i started living in an apartment and walking to and from work (which was usually when id have my only meal of the day) often that i started losing weight, but when i did i was estatic.

I wanted, and still want, nothing more than to be thinner. in a world where ones value is based on how attractive they are and how attractive someone is is based inherently in part on how thin they are, its really fucking hard not to want to be thinner. every artistic rendition of myself has been thin, because i want to be thin, because i want to be attractive to others, and. that's just not a healthy mindset to be having, frankly. you shouldnt feel like you arent attractive because of how big or how heavy you are. it also makes you harbor unpleasant mindsets about other fat and chubby people.

ALSO it doesnt help how rampant ed culture runs through trans circles. definitely also with transfems but i see it amplified like tenfold with transmascs because of the white transmasc ideal being a thin white diseased looking boy with "fluffy black hair" and whatnot. even among like, gymbro tmascs, and especially in circles like /ftmg/ on 4chan's /lgbt/ board or truscum circles of tumblr's hayday. it really doesn't help fat transmascs when all the passing advice you give them is for skinny transmascs, kai.

tldr: i have eating problems and a horrible relationship with food and my weight, and its a harmful mindset to have. ed circles practically being hand in hand with trans ones doesnt help.

[deathburns]

i don't rise from the ashes / i make them. bellion of nanatsu no taizai. by percival (he/him, 30+).

meta analysis. verses. rules under readmore.

𝐨𝐧𝐞. #DEATHBURNS is an independent, private, highly selective and mutuals exclusive writing blog for bellion of the black knights of the seven deadly sins franchise.

this blog is 18+. please do not follow me if you are under 18!

on this note, this blog will feature dark and triggering themes. nnt is dark guys, and bellion's story is just ... so much and also full of intense and traumatic experiences mostly war related- i will make sure to tag these things with the format of #trigger so that they can be filtered out! please tag #trypophobia for me!

𝐭𝐰𝐨. shipping is not the priority here, but also i have done a considerable amount of worldbuilding with kal @ragesin / @asteriskheart so bellion's main ship is with ellatte :)

if other shipping happens, it will require a LOT of plotting and will not be with any mun or muse under the age of 21.

i am very open to other sorts of bonds, though! because it isn't just romance when people talk about ships- bellion is hard to get along with often, but it's not impossible!

i should also note that i will accept mains and exclusives!

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. i am known for writing metas across the blogs i have. in the wise words of a friend:

with this in mind, the metas i write are portrayal specific to this blog, so please give them a read! i know i can be rather wordy- anyone who has followed me elsewhere may know this, but for my first time followers, worldbuilding is one of my favorite things to do. i am particularly fond of analysis of character psychology.

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞. to the point above, i do have other blogs! i run @hmrtia and @godstrain, those ones are rather well known. i am in and out of other fandoms, but i am trying to focus on a smaller group of things for my own sanity.

and by this, i mean i work 32-40 hours as a registered nurse in an inpatient psychiatric unit. i am busy, i am tired, and i can't keep letting my focus go all over the place. inevitably, it still may do that because i have a tendency to be scattered, so if i don't get to something immediately, it isn't you, it's me!

also related to that, i do love communication! i struggle with reading the room (it's the Autism tm) and so if something's up or if you're bothered, please be direct with me! i will not take offense, i quite appreciate feedback so that i can be better as a person! in return, i will communicate back! i am learning to curate my space (after 10+ years of being on tumblr).

𝐬𝐢𝐱. there are people i won't interact with due to various reasons- my dni list is on the carrd of my other blogs. i won't interact with genderbent versions of characters, people who are Real Life Individuals (not counting fictional depictions like in the typemoon franchise or whatnot because those really have nothing to do with the actual individual they're supposedly based on?).

please stay far away from me if you fall under the following categories (i'm censoring things because god knows tumblr just picks shit up idk): proshipping, writing inc*st, p*dophilia, r*pe/n*ncon, are transphobic/homophobic- the usual gross behavior! use your moral compass!

on top of that, i am a firm believer that we learn from the media around us. full censorship is just as dangerous as the aforementioned things- the world isn't all sunshine and rainbows! please refer to this post which essentially summarizes the gist of what i'm trying to explain.

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧. anyway, hello, i'm percival / percy, but also everyone knows me as knight. i am 30+ and use he/him pronouns exclusively! i am a hobby artist (it's my side-gig from nursing) and sometimes i post my art, tagged #whats my art tag considering i constantly forget my art tag if it's fancy. please do not repost my art without my permission.

mutuals, feel free to ask me for my discord, since i am much easier to reach there!

i look forward to writing with you!

[raibebe]

Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized​ who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?”   “Nope.”   “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.)   “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again.   You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now…   “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.”  You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe.   “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless.   “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.  

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

[uno-writing]

platonic and romantic matchups! ive literally never done this b4 and i honestly dindon't know myself pretty well so forgive me😩 give me as many characters as u need!! I am a she/her and i am hetero

Appearance

5'4, black hair, rose-gold glasses, malaysian-chinese, im rather plain-looking tbh clothing and all. the body part I'm most confident about are my hands (slender, long fingers, vv sexy🥵)

Personality

To my family and strangers, I'm very quiet but my friends know me as the crazy crackhead of the group🤪. I'm pretty introverted as well, I'm TERRIBLE AT SOCIALISING (VERY IMPORTANT). Like, i depend on my already-existing friends to attract new friends to me idk how to do it on my own. I can be pretty awkward irl, but im much more friendly online, its easier for me to talk. Im always in my head, daydreaming and whatnot. I also swear a lot. Like, a LOT.

Likes

Im doing my alevels now (pre-u), taking Bio, chem and psychology. I LOVE BIO and psych is interesting, chem is on thin fucking ice wtf happened. I absolutely dESPISE maths tho. Absolutely hate it i dropped it after a week of itjdjdjjs. I also love listening to music, mostly kpop (nct, blackpink, mostly in general), but i like listening to pop artists too and a lil bit of NIKI and glass animals. I also really love animals, and i kidna want to be a marine biologist but idk🤠 because 🧚‍♀️🌠commitment🌠🧚‍♀️. Oh i also love webtoon, i started with i love yoo, lets play and lore olympus but now im reading unordinary, a deadbeats meal, hell is other people. I also like reading, my face series are percy jackson, heroes of olympus and trials of Apollo. When i was a child i loved diary of a wimpy kid, Geronimo Stilton and Enid blyton. I also like,,,,walking around and tossing a hairtie to think??? Like thinking about uno hcs and imagining myself as a kpop idol😩🤙🏻. Also food is good.

Dislikes

I hate sports. I mean i kinda like netball but that's it. Running is the absolute worse it fills me with so much dread. I dont particularly watch romance shows or movies, but i definetely own a lot of romance books jdjdjs. I also hate it when people clean and organise my room, i mean yeah its messy but i know where everything is and u just messed that up. Idk what else to put here hhhhh

Other stuff

I've never dated b4, so idk any love languages or how relationships even work. But i definetly have a type, they usually tend to be dark-haired, athletic or lean looking guys. But ofc this isn't always the casejdjdj.

When it comes to friends, I'm not picky. Whoever i can vibe with and as long as i don't mind their presence its fine. But my closest friends and people i want to be friends with tend to be just as chaotic as i am, some like kpop some don't. some are a bit more mature but some like to spend time gossiping. i like to float between these to freind groups however.

-radish🥬 anon

Also for matchups i wanna add that im a cancer and INFP. I would say these match me in a lot of aspects but im not as motherly or soft as people think cancers are. I also hate doing art lmao

IM SO SORRY BUT I also ALSO wanna add that in terms of academics, my grades range from good to yeah shes definitely good ay that. Im also a very nosy person, obviously i wont ask people for info i don't deserve to know but i can't help but wonder about info.

You don't have to include these extra infos if it's too troublesomendjdjhd

-radish🥬 anon

---

Heyyyy INFP buddies!!!

Also, you’re 1 inch taller than me and now I’m gonna hold a grudge against you /j I’m gonna make you a ‘least favorite anon’ award an it’s gonna be Zeke /j/j (lmao i platonically love you radish anon)🍿🥤🍭🍬🍫🧋🥨🥬🍦🍧🧊🐇🍩

I would match you with John romantically and Isen platonically!!

*Both of them are chaotic and they’re both extroverts so I think they’d fit well with you being an introvert

*Plus they can help you socialize or just introduce you to their friends (which is how i’ve made all of my friends lol)

*I was having a hard time decided who would fit best where and then I got to your type lol

*While John’s a gym guy, I don’t think he’d make you work out but he would always invite you to see if you wanna come along

*If you do come along with him, he’d make sure to make it fun and enjoyable for you. But when he asks, he makes it clear you don’t have to tag along unless you actually want to

*I HC both of them suck at math so you all can struggle together :D

*You and Isen probably have similar music tastes

*John obvi doesn’t care about swearing lol

[killerlookz]

to the stupid ass elitist metal head you posted:

This always is so funny/ridiculous to me, as a girl who grew up listening to metal and with it being one of my favorite music genres. You can't just prevent people from discovering the music you like. (ESPECIALLY LOL METALICA IS ONE OF THE MOST WELL KNOWN METAL BANDS ASIDE FROM PROBABLY OZZY)

Not only that but I feel like music elitists tend to forget that there was once upon a time when they didn't listen to the band as well and had a moment of discovery as well.

So what if people find a band through tiktok? It's literally no different then someone discovering a song off the radio, a commercial, youtube video, or in this case a TV show.

It annoys me just as much when people get mad over people only now discovering bands like Fleetwood Mac, Queen, or artists like Kate Bush as if they haven't been wildly popular for decades. These aren't underground indie bands with just 10k monthly listeners on Spotify LMAO

Not all metalheads are elitist assholes, thankfully, but a lot of them definitely can be (those being typically very closed minded and misogynistic as well).

THIS EXACTLY! it's so stupid but the EGO most metalheads have is fucking insane. ive been decently involved in my areas local music scene for about five years now, (as well as i have almost exculsively dated and hooked up with metalheads but that is a conversation for ANOTHER DAY) and let me tell you the metalheads i've met in that time are almost always, exclusively huge assholes- and the same can be said for "traditional" metalheads almost anywhere. i don't know what it is with metal and male ego but the two seem to go hand and hand.

obviously i know its not the case with every metalhead, but, for the vast majority, unfortunately ive found the general consensus about male "trad" metalheads is theyre usually insanely full of themselves, mysoginistic, and often times racist as well.

again, this doesnt always apply but, its essentially the general understanding. and this goes for even outside of traditional heavy metal. black metal and death metal fans are also insufferable and even in "less respected" genres of metal like metalcore and whatnot (i use less respected loosely, because i absolutely adore metalcore but, among the metal community it is often looked down upon)

maybe its just something in the music, and honestly this is how men in most genres acct but especially metal. the misogyny and narcissism runs wild- it is insane! and for what? fucking metallica? the band with like 8 grammys???? thats like gatekeeping taylor swift.

[melodiesofblueroses]

𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘶𝘱 𝘚𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

→ 𝘈𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

›› 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: You thoroughly enjoyed your makeup sessions with Asmo. Not only were his stories so extravagant and entertaining, but he also loved giving you advice on any of your troubles. In this particular session, you start to reflect on your feelings for your coworker

›› 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Fluff

›› 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: ~2.5k  

›› 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱: gn!reader , makeup artist!asmo, actor/actress!reader, human au (? kinda)

“ah, y/n, it’s a treat to see you again!” at the sound of your makeup artist, you couldn’t help let out a small smile, happy to have your favorite person on set with you yet again. sure, he may have been the artist that was sometimes assigned to you, meaning that the two of you were nothing more than coworkers, but you also became close friends with him. plus, asmo’s craft and talent with his brushes never ceased to amaze you. your makeup, no matter how extravagant or simple, always seemed to take the spotlight during each shot. it was perfect to say the least, for both the scene and the atmosphere. besides, asmo always knew how to make you look good in anything. he truly had a talent for this. 

“asmo! i’m so happy that you’re my artist,” you exclaimed, finding it quite hard to contain your excitement. you moved to sit in a black chair that was in front of his work station, sitting up straight as you prepared to, once again, be blown away by him. as much as you enjoyed the other artists that were on set, asmo just had a magical touch to his work. he was your favorite by far, although that is to say you weren’t putting down the others. asmo’s makeup work, in particular, exudes confidence, elegance, and beauty all in one. it not only served to accentuate your character’s traits, but also gave you much more confidence when you were up on set. 

“well, i’m glad to hear that you love me so much,” he giggled, getting right to preparing his brushes and kit. this time, he was given the orders to create a natural and simple look. your character was supposed to be at a cafe in this scene, supposedly on a date with some hotshot you’d met in a previous scene. although asmo did get orders from the head makeup artist, he often liked to deviate a little and add his own personal touches in order to make you stand out. as much as that would serve as a reprimand, everyone on set was always taken aback by your makeup, so they let asmo run free. “so, would you like to hear the story of my last failed date?” he sighed, opening up the primer as he dipped his brush in. 

“of course i would, duh. your stories are the highlight of my day.” although that may have sounded a bit of an exaggeration, you weren’t lying. asmo always seemed to have the wildest stories, yet they were exciting and always kept you on your toes. you couldn’t help but wonder how he led such a fascinating and eventful life. currently, your life was quite dull. all you did was wake up each morning and arrive on set, that or practice your lines over and over again to your audience of stuffed animals that sat on your bed. you wished your life held an ounce of excitement that asmo’s had. “did you run into your psycho ex this time too?”

“yep,” he sighed once more, though he never stopped applying makeup. his soft touch on your skin felt so electric, though that was your crush on the man speaking. yes, despite his narcissism and usual shamelessness, you couldn’t help but fall for your coworker. of course, he was dreamy in a sense, with his good looks and fashion taste and all, but asmo was also very caring, a side he didn’t seem to show to just anyone (he seemed to only care for folks that he deemed to be attractive or interesting). however, he always listened to your problems and gave advice whenever you vented to him. and as someone who moved out to a big city in order to pursue more acting opportunities, it really did help to have someone by your side that truly did care. that, plus, he was just so interesting! you swear you could listen to asmo talk on and on for hours about his crazy stories. 

as he went on about his encounter with one of his exes, applying concealer, foundation, etc. in the meantime, you listened to each and every one of his words rather intently. as mentioned before, these stories always kept you on edge. you also couldn’t help but admire asmo’s voice. it was so full of emotion and expression. it was so lively! his voice was honestly really nice. plus, when he sometimes sang little songs under his breath, you couldn’t help but be blown away by this man’s singing talent. who knew he was such a good singer too? geez, now you needed to hear him sing a cover of your favorite songs or perhaps even a lullaby. although you were quite fixated on his story and voice, you didn’t forget to respond every once in a while and throw in your input and reactions, which asmo seemed to admire as well. 

“and that’s basically how i now have a cease and desist on my ex as well as a wanted criminal in the next town over.”

“wait wait wait, back up a second. wanted criminal?” 

“i’m just teasing you darling. just wanted to make sure you were paying attention,” asmo replied in a singsong voice, booping your nose with one of his clean brushes in the process. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, quite used to his incessant teasing. you never knew how you still fell for it after many years of working with him. “anyway, is there anything new with you?” 

“well,” you started, though you were immediately interrupted as asmo applied a small dash of lipstick to your lips. ahh, his soft touch on your ever so sensitive lips made you feel goosebumps. it felt almost electrical in a sense, and you couldn’t help but jump a bit from the contact. geez, you really were head over heels for your makeup artist, especially if a simple touch was enough to make you feel butterflies. asmo took notice of your startled reaction and tilted his head (rather cutely you should say), making sure that you were alright before continuing on. when you nodded that you were fine, asmo happily smiled and continued on applying the lipstick, though you weren’t any calmer the second time around. 

it’s not like you despised his touch. you, in fact, were so in love with it, but the fact that you had such a huge crush on him really didn’t help. you also couldn’t help but recall the time that he had accidentally applied too much lipstick, and when you jokingly asked how you’d take it off, he grabbed your chin and said in such a sultry voice that he’d just kiss it off. gahh, just the memory of it got your heart rate up. of course, he did say that he was merely joking with you in a flirty way, but it felt so real that you didn’t really believe him. despite that memory resurfacing at the moment, you shook it off and continued on with what you wanted to say. “will you ever let me know your real name?”

“nope~” well, that was a quick response, and one that you weren’t even expecting to be quite honest. asmo, for some strange reason, never really let anyone in on his true name, insisting on the fact that everyone around him just called him asmo. you weren’t quite sure as to why he only ever wanted to go by his nickname, but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he hated his name. if that was the case, then it would be better off if you just dropped it. “it’s not that i hate it or anything,” he continued on, though you were surprised by how well he seemed to be reading your thoughts. “i think that the mystery aspect of it makes me much more appealing, don’t you think?” with that, he added a dangerous flirtatious wink which surely got your heartbeat rising. 

“alright, i get it,” you sighed, smiling as you felt him powder blush on your cheeks. “but you are an expert on relationships and love and whatnot, right?”

“y/n, you’ve known me for a while now, what do you think?” 

“i know i know, just thought i’d ask. it’s just that...well.” oh now asmo was listening rather intently to you while simultaneously continuing to put on your makeup. he really was the biggest gossiper you knew, always wanting in on the juciest of details. and your dull love life was no exception. “i don’t know how to tell this person that i like them…” you couldn’t help but avert your gaze from asmo’s the moment you muttered that sentence, embarrassed that you were talking about your crush in front of him. it really wasn’t something that you had mentioned to anyone beforehand. 

“oo, who are they? you gotta tell me everything if you want me to help,” asmo responded, quite intrigued at where this entire thing was going. “i must say though, they are quite lucky to have someone as cute as you crushing on them.”

perhaps it’s the other way around you thought to yourself, though all you did was smile at asmo’s statement. “well, they’re always so kind. a bit eccentric at times, but that’s part of their charm!” you couldn’t really see asmo’s face at the moment since he was applying the tiniest bit of natural eyeshadow to your lids, knowing that he did so in order to make your eyes pop out a bit. if you could see him, however, you’d assume that asmo was giving you a face that basically told you to continue on. “um, let’s see,” you mumbled, trying your best to articulate your feelings in the best way possible. “although they can be shameless and really flirty, i know that they are really loving and can be a bit insecure at times. i think that their love would be my type of love, ya know?” 

“you haven’t told me much, but you sound so smitten with this person.” dang, asmo really knew a lot about love, huh? it was rather embarrassing that he was able to quickly catch on to your strong feelings. “i say that you confess. who knows, they may even like you back~” with that final statement, you couldn’t help but shake off the feeling that asmo most likely knew that you were talking about him, as much as you prayed that wasn’t the case. imagine telling your crush to their face that you liked them, and they knew that you were talking about them but feigned ignorance anyway. that in and of itself was so embarrassing. but if that was the case, then wouldn’t it be better to take his advice and confess? well, in the heat of the moment, you decided that you’d go with it. 

“you think so?” 

“mm” 

“ok then, asmo, would you like to go out with me?” 

there was a few seconds of silence between the two of you, painful silence that felt like years in your eyes. oh no, what if you just ruined your friendship with your coworker that you had cultivated over the years? all those years of friendship, down the drain due to some stupid five second confession. how dumb could you get? before you could mentally beat yourself over it, however, asmo replied. 

“oo, i like that confidence~ i find it quite hot.” of course, you should’ve known that asmo would’ve found a way to tease you in such a situation. it wasn’t the ideal response, especially since it kinda felt like he was making fun of your feelings, but you knew that it was just his nature to do so. didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less though. you felt yourself tearing up a bit, though that all went away when you heard his next words. “of course i’d go out with you though. i’ve liked you for a while now too.” 

“really?!” it was a bit too enthusiastic and loud of a response that the other artists and actors couldn’t help but turn their gaze towards you for a few seconds. becoming flustered, you averted your gaze and focused on asmo, mumbling out your answer once more. everything had happened so fast that you hadn’t processed the entire situation yet, unsure whether you were stuck in a dream or not. this surely was one exciting thing that happened in your life. 

“yep,” he replied, giggling a bit at your enthusiasm. in his eyes, your reaction was adorable. he really did have a lot of love for you. 

“do you wanna go on a date this saturday then?” wow, you really were quite enthusiastic and fast-acting. it’s not that you were desperate (though some people may argue otherwise), but you were rather bored, and your life was uneventful, so you figured that a date would be perfect. 

“ahh, no can do,” he pouted as he added the finishing touches on your makeup. “my brother lucy,” he rolled his eyes at the mention of the name, “wants me and my other brothers back home for some reason.” he spun you around so that you faced the mirror, opening your eyes to be met with a job well done. his makeup work was truly top of the line, and you were always blown away at the spectacle beforehand. “how about next weekend though?”

“that sounds perfect,” you muttered to both asmo and the makeup look before you. first you snatched yourself a perfect makeup look and then a handsome boyfriend? today really was a great day for you. as you sat there speechless, you heard the director call your name out of the blue. it was finally time for your scene, and right on time too. “oh! i have to go,” you said to asmo, quickly getting up from your seat and adjusting your clothes. “i’ll definitely call you later to set up the details!”

“sounds good.” with that, asmo gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before he turned back to washing and fixing up his station, preparing to do a job well done for the next round of actors. shocked at the sudden kiss, you stood frozen for a few seconds, contemplating on what had just occurred. your first ever kiss from your boyfriend. this truly was a moment to treasure. though, before you could continue on with your daydreams, you heard the director call out to you once more, causing you to drop everything and rush on over. 

although you couldn’t tell, asmo was staring at you quite lovingly from afar, admiring how pretty you looked in both your makeup and costume. too bad he had to go back to the devildom for a few days to prepare for the exchange program. he really did want to spend more time with you.

[guqin-and-flute]

3zun are having "quality adult time" when they're interrupted by small child who just had a nightmare.

(Pff love it. There are no actual ‘quality adult time’s in this fic, just frustrated parents being interrupted making out 😂 Bonus little post-canon And A-Fu Makes 4 3zun at the end!)

If there was one thing that could be lamented in all of Nie Mingjue’s parenting experience, it was bedtime. Patience was not a thing that he was known for and there was something about the whole bedtime process that just made him want to pull his hair out. One would think that living at least half of his time with a clan that prided itself in such a strict sleep schedule would rub off on the boy but no. No.

Every night, it was either sudden selective deafness or running around like a hyperactive little squirrel attempting to rile himself up or ‘I’m hungry’ or ‘I’m thirsty’ or ‘I need to pee’ as soon as the time came. ‘I’m lonely,’ he would insist. ‘I want to know where trees come from all of a sudden.’ Once, it was even a straightforward ‘You are all going to have fun out there without me and I don’t think that should be allowed.’ That last one was accompanied by a very Xichen-like reasonable eyebrow raise but a haughty sort of finality in pursed lips. Nie Mingjue was torn between laughing and grinding his teeth. “We will be doing boring adult things, child. You need to sleep.”

“What sort of things?” he demanded back.

“Budgeting,” Nie Mingjue responded, dryly, folding his arms.

Sometimes, it would actually be something of the sort--Clan business and whatnot. And sometimes it was some nice, relaxing, patiently-awaited intimacy. Since they knew their son very well, nothing all that interesting would be attempted in the first 2 hours after putting him to bed--with good reason, for he tended to pop up at the most inopportune times to announce that he wasn’t actually that tired and so this was a perfect time to tell a story, I think. “No, little one,” Lan Xichen would remind him with a patient smile as he walked him back to his room. “This is the perfect time to sleep. Goodnight.”

That child could shoot little daggers with his eyes and it was a struggle not to laugh and rankle his 5 year old pride at the injustice of it all. Nie Mingjue wondered who he had gotten that look from. 

He would usually let Lan Xichen handle it, or Jin Guangyao if he happened to be around, because by the gods they seemed to have the most infinite well of patience when it came to small child chicanery. Nie Mingjue, on the other hand, had long had to deal with Huaisang’s mischievous schemes and world-class ability to whine. His patience for such things was a finite resource he had mined dry very early in childhood. Oh, he loved his brother--but he did not love it when he got in trouble as the oldest for Husaisang deciding to sneak out of his room repeatedly (as if Nie Mingjue was supposed to have foreseen and stopped this!) or wail at his door in the middle of the night because he was, of all things, bored. It was night time--you sleep at night. 

Or other things.

But that, of course, was in an ideal world, where partners lived together and children stayed in their rooms when they were told to. Generally, they didn’t like to assign a night babysitter to A-Fu when they visited each other--they saw him so little as it was and Nie Mingjue would feel too guilty leaving his responsibilities as a father to a relative stranger. He didn’t generally discuss these things with Jin Guangyao, but he knew him well enough to know that he felt the same way. And to know that such interruptions happened between Lan Xichen and him, as well. There had been many a morning when he had come to one of their room’s to greet the pair of them to find a bleary eyed, borderline crabby Jin Guangyao curled around a sprawled out A-Fu as Lan Xichen meditated nearby with a small smile.

“Late night interloper?” he had asked, once--knowingly--when this had happened during a joint visit to Koi Tower.

Jin Guangyao had scrunched up his face and shoved his head under the plush pillow as Lan Xichen had risen, still smiling, to tuck his nose under Nie Mingjue’s jaw and murmur, “There was a cricket in his room. Apparently, this was unacceptable. As was the walk to your room.”

“Long night?”

“He kicks. So much,” came Jin Guangyao’s pillow-muffled voice.

Nie Mingjue had snorted with only a little smugness.

And yet he could still muster a bit of sympathy, even for him, because he knew how it felt to just want a moment with Xichen and all the nice, long, shapely bits of him. 

Like right now. Because night time was supposed to be for ‘quality adult time’ and he would absolutely love to get to actually spend it with his lover during one of the first times he had seen him in 3 months. It had been a long day of playing in the Unclean Realm and snuggling with, and in general enjoying the presence of their beautiful, sweet, rambunctious son. 

But now it was night. And they had put said wonderful son to bed at least 2 and a half hours ago and he was setting about leaving some very nice and artistic marks on the junction of Lan Xichen’s shoulder and neck when the door to his quarters squeaked and he could practically feel his pulse throbbing in his temples. All of that lovely anticipation just up and fell into annoyance as gracelessly as a tree crashing over. At least they were both clothed but really. He bit back a growled curse as Lan Xichen slithered back away from him with a slightly aggrieved grimace, tugging his lapels back into place. “A-Fu, it is time--” Nie Mingjue began to grit out, sitting up and preparing to pick his son up and put him in Huaisang’s room and see how he liked whining then---but stopped. 

A-Fu’s eyes were huge, his crumpled face wet with tears as he hiccuped silently. Quiet crying was always real. “Oh, A-Fu. Come here,” Nie Mingjue immediately dropped his voice down low and quiet and held out his arms as Xichen sat up behind him, his night robes collar already tucked back into proper order. 

The boy darted to the bed and threw himself into his arms, practically knocking the wind out of him. “Nightmare?” Nie Mingjue asked gently into his sleep sweaty scalp and felt him nod frenetically.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lan Xichen murmured, smoothing what he could reach of A-Fu’s hair around Mingjue’s enveloping embrace. A-Fu shook his head just as violently.

Well, there was nothing for it. Nightmares beat fun every time, no question. “Do you want to stay with us for a while?” 

He gave the tiniest, wobbliest, “Mm-hmm,” and sniffed loudly. They tucked him in between them, snuggled into Nie Mingjue’s chest with Lan Xichen’s arm over the both of them. After they had all settled, Lan Xichen began to hum, quietly, into the moon soaked darkness. Nie Mingjue might not have an ear for music, but he did recognize the habitual soothing that spread through his muscles, his veins and washed over him like warm, sweet water. The Song of Clarity. Almost instantly, he felt A-Fu go completely limp, dropping back into sleep with impressive speed. (If only it were always so.)

Lan Xichen kept humming, combing his fingers slowly through Nie Mingjue’s loose hair, smiling gently at him through the dimness, his eyes black and bright. Leaning forward, Mingjue pressed a chaste kiss to his chin and closed his eyes to listen, letting the vibrations buzz through his lips and the peace of the moment seep through him. This was also quality time.

-BONUS 3ZUN-

It was still new, the three of them together, learning what had changed and what had not after all these years, but Nie Mingjue was more than willing to put the work in to figure it out. Unfortunately, it was months before any of them had a few weeks free for travel that didn't involve politicking and could instead just be a relaxing exploration, an integration of a relearned relationship dynamic. 

And ever the strategist, ever the impeccable planner, Jin Guangyao had scheduled a specific night, set up a sleepover with Jin Ling for A-Fu over with Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, and had prepared everything at Koi Tower. And it had begun oh so well with plenty of enthusiasm and excitement--that is, until the familiar, distant, ever-approaching siren wail that was their child reached them even through the wall not even 5 minutes in. They froze.

“Maybe it’s not him,” A-Yao muttered against Nie Mingjue’s mouth, not moving a muscle.

“Oh, it is,” Xichen sighed with more affection than exasperation as the sound grew even closer and regretfully peeled himself away from A-Yao’s neck, making the man growl in annoyance.

Usually, this was when the irritation might set in for Nie Mingjue as well, but seeing the break from A-Yao’s usual cool collection was actually quite amusing. With a groan, he let his head fall down onto Nie Mingjue’s shoulder with a thump, hands still fastened in Nie Mingjue’s hair as Lan Xichen swiftly slid on one, two, three layers, fastened them deftly and slipped out of the room. “Oh?” Nie Mingjue questioned the growl indulgently and grinned as his head came back up, eyes burning as his mouth locked into a wide, very fake smile.

“I love that boy,” A-Yao said deliberately, through his teeth.

“You do,” Nie Mingjue affirmed, at least trying to hold in his chuckle for courtesy’s sake. “We know.”

“I love that boy,” he repeated, tightening his fingers and shaking Nie Mingjue’s head a little, as if for emphasis, eyes growing wider still. 

Mingjue couldn’t help it; he laughed, even as he tried to placate him. “A-Yao, we have time, we can wait.”

“You would think,” A-Yao agreed fiercely, not-smile not wavering. “But considering the effort it took to get us all into bed together, I would really rather not have to.”

Though he leaned down and nuzzled into the soft hollow beneath his ear, he kept grinning against his neck. “Who knows, maybe he can calm him enough to send him back.”

“When has Er-ge ever sent him back?” A-Yao muttered above his head, voice almost petulant. 

“You usually don’t either.”

“Extenuating circumstances. There was a plan.”

Nie Mingjue chuckled. The wail petered out abruptly as it reached its loudest point, just down the hall, and was replaced by distant, wordless murmuring. The both of them froze again, listening closely to the voices, unable to glean the content of the conversation--2 adults, one of them their Xichen, the other a woman--perhaps Jiang Yanli-- and a small, tearful A-Fu. They waited, Nie Mingjue thoughtfully skimming his mustache over the thin skin over A-Yao’s artery until the other man gave him an irritable tweak on the ear. 

A low, kind question. A sniffly affirmative. A-Yao cursed, quietly and viciously, and practically threw himself off of Nie Mingjue’s lap to collapse on his back onto the bed. Grinning again, Nie Mingjue stood and pulled his under robe back on. “You love that boy,” he reminded over his shoulder as he opened the door to their room. 

“You know what else I love?” was hissed back as the door closed behind him, and Mingjue almost hurt himself stifling his snort. Apparently, he was wrong--only Xichen was in possession of infinite patience, after all.

[followmybones]

yoyo could i get a matchup?

fandoms : mha & haikyuu

gender preference : male

ideal date : rooftop n cuddles, running from the cops (joking :p)

what i look for in a partner : a lover n best friend in one

my pronouns : any! (male is preferred tho)

my gender : gender fluid

personality : i’m definitely a night owl, but i could sleep at any given time tbh. my good qualities are that i’m open-minded, considerate, and very lax. my bad qualities would be self-aware selfishness, holding grudges, holding into people who’ve left me.

hobbies : sleeping in, oversleeping, reading, arts, making dumb gifts, listening to music

aesthetic : simple? my color palette is usually neutral tones and black/white. i like blazers and oversized coats.

favorite artists : mitski, ruelle, the nbhd

zodiac sign : scorpio

mbti : intp-t

I match you with…

Satori Tendō!

I feel like you and Tendo would get along pretty well. Tendo would also want a best friend out of his partner, he’d be incredibly supportive of you in all aspects, and I don't think he’d necessarily see your bad qualities as bad.

If Tendo got the vibe that you liked him, he’d make the first move, otherwise, you’d have to. I don’t think his gesture would be very big, he’d just ask to talk to you, or if you were friends he’d tell you while the two of you were hanging out together. It’d be very casual but not because he didn’t like you that much, he just wanted to be able to move past it if he misread signals, without getting hurt too much.

He’d go the extra mile of setting up a mini picnic and blankets to sit outside and look at the stars with you. Your date ideas really just felt like something Tendo would organically plan on his own (I don’t think he’d plan running from the cops but you know what I mean). I also get the vibe he’d enjoy just going on night walks with you, it wouldn’t really be a date but being he’d enjoy the time alone with you just as much.

Your relationship would probably be a lot of doing your own things in the same room, but bugging each other and throwing paper at each other from across the room and whatnot.

I’d dub the two of you chaotic partners, doing things at random times but still somehow incredibly in love. It's quite cute though, it's the type of chaos that keeps the people around you on your toes, and you two will definitely have some stories to tell when you’re older.

And finally, runner-up matchups: Sero Hanta & ​Yū Nishinoya.

[snagyeon]

get to know you

tagged by @ambivartence thank you for the tag siyuan!!

tagging @ya-doyoungie @tensuperm @yoyoyong @blondrenjun <33

What day is your birthday? 25th

What is your favorite color? my favourite colour/s changes constantly but right now it’s matcha green and coral

What’s your lucky number? i don’t have one

Do you have any pets? sadly no :(( i really want a cat in the future tho

How tall are you? 169 cm or 5 ft 6.5 in

How many pairs of shoes do you own? like. 8?? 9??

Favorite song? cry for love by baekhyun atm!

Favorite movie? i don’t have one in particular but i really like little women, la la land, and mugen train. whenever someone asks me this question my mind goes blank tbh

Who would be your ideal partner? someone who’s a little bit more on the extroverted side. funny. artistic in some kind of way

Do you want children? 😐 but who knows?

Have you ever got in trouble with the law? no

Baths or showers? showers

What color socks are you wearing? not wearing any atm lol

What type of music do you like? rnb, hiphop, pop, indie, funk

How many pillows do you sleep with? two- one to lie down on, one to hug

What position do you usually sleep in? on my side

What you don’t like when you are sleeping? when people wake me up. i have the weirdest of dreams but i forget them if someone wakes me up (or if my alarm goes off). i have to wake up on my own accord in order to remember them

What do you typically have for breakfast? i wake up at like 11-12 so that’s brunch but i usually have eggs, some sort of meat, and rice

Have you ever tried archery? twice! i’m not great at it tho :(

Favorite fruit? mango and watermelon my beloveds 😚🥭😚🍉

Favorite swear word? fuck

Do you have any scars? i have a small scar on my chin that’s barely noticeable and a scar on my knee

Are you a good liar? yes (i’m lying)

What is your personality type? infp/isfp

What is your favorite type of girls? all types of girls i don’t discriminate 😚

Are you an innie or an outie? innie

Left or right handed? left handed :0 i’m training myself to be ambidextrous tho! it’s hard being a leftie </3

Favorite food? pho and kimchi jiggae

Favorite foreign food? mexican

Are you a clean or messy person? both?? i like to organize stuff and whatnot but i don’t really maintain the system so. things get messy again in two weeks time </3 and then the cycle continues…

Most used phrase? “what the fuck” LOL

How long does it take for you to get ready? half an hour

Do you talk to yourself? yes

Do you sing to yourself? yes, but poorly

Are you a good singer? NO but that won’t stop me from singing karaoke with my friends!!! 🎤🎶💃

Biggest Fear? rejection and death

Are you a gossip? i try not to be

Do you like long or short hair? short

Favorite school subject? art and chemistry. but mostly art!! i was really close with my high school art teacher

Extrovert or Introvert? introvert

What makes you nervous? public speaking and heights

Who was your first real crush? a kid i went to elementary school with. had a big fat crush on him for YEARS

How many piercings do you have? two standard lobe piercings

How fast can you run? not very fast lol i’m not a runner 🤕 my endurance isn’t that great. i prefer swimming or dancing for cardio

What color is your hair? black

What color are your eyes? brown

What makes you angry? very biased and closed minded people. people who can’t think for themselves. when my packages arrive late 😡

Do you like your own name? i don’t hate it! fran is just a nickname btw. my parents claim that my name is a mashup of theirs but my dad also has fran in his name… feels like i’m named after him really

Do you want a boy a girl for a child? a child is a child. but also i don’t want children

What are you strengths? i make some mean cinnamon buns does that count

What are your weaknesses? impatient. short tempered. procrastinates a lot. lazy </3

Color of your bedspread? pink

Color of your room? pale green

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter eighteen: narcissus staring at his reflection

Another few weeks and another few weeks worth of having her ears blown out by the sheer amount of shows that took place before her, and Sam truly felt herself to be part of the music world as well as the art world. Every night, all the way until the final date in San Antonio, about a week before they had to prepare for the flight up to Oulu, in Finland, Charlie asked her to make a little sketch for him before he went up to the stage as sort of a good luck charm. He lent her a little blank notepad which he had found from the glove box in Anthrax's van, and he always made it specific, as well: they had to be in a sketchy style with strictly a black ink pen.

“Why exactly that?” she asked him one evening while the Cherry Suicides were setting up for their opening gig, and he gestured for her to move in closer to him.

“A little bird told me that Louie got one before I did,” he replied in a low voice.

“Zelda!” she hissed.

“Nah, not Zelda,” he assured her. “I did see it in the front window of Testament's van, though.”

“Oh, I see. Propped it up within their sight so everyone could see it.”

“Exactly! I'll get you more paper, too.”

“Yeah, I'm kind of starting to run low on this notebook paper, if I'm honest.”

But nevertheless, she sprung right to it: a little scratchy drawing of Charlie upon the lined paper, complete with the black curls all around his head. Sometimes, she drew a little drum kit before him to make it look as though it was in fact Charlie there: this was one of those times. Within a few minutes flat, she finished it and signed her initials at the bottom of the page, and then she handed it to him for good luck.

“You ought to compile all of those together in a collection of sorts,” she suggested.

“Like a little book!” He then snapped his fingers; from underneath his bangs, Sam made out the twinkle in his dark eyes. “There's an idea for you.”

“An art book?”

“Yeah! Something to do some day when you're out of school and you've made it big at some point.” He flicked his bangs back and he flashed her a little wink.

“Not soon? While you guys are over in Scandinavia with the girls and with Metal Church?”

“Nah, it'll take too much of your time, if I'm honest. Even I can tell you that. By the way—you heard this from me—” He glanced around him before he returned to her. “—we're gonna be with Ozzy, too.”

“No way!” Her face lit up at the sound of that.

“Yes way! But—” He leaned in closer to her again and he lowered his voice a bit. “—please don't tell Zelda, though. Scott and I want it to be a surprise for her. We got her and Minerva both into Ozzy and Randy Rhoads shortly after the announcement was made that we would be going to Finland. As far as the two of them know, it's just gonna be us with them and Metal Church.”

“Okay—” Sam was cut off by Frank and Dan skirting past her with their guitars in hand. She then glanced down at the notepad in her hands: two pages left, and of course not nearly enough to tithe her over until they left for England at the end of August.

“Also, Zelda wants to talk to you,” Charlie picked up again, that time with a slight clearing of his throat.

“About what?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “Dunno,” he confessed. “She just told me earlier over breakfast that she wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Well, where is she?” Sam wondered about that especially since she had bunked with the Cherry Suicides every night on this stint of the tour. She could have easily spoken to her about it at some point during one of those nights.

“She and Morgan are both signing autographs right now, believe it or not. I guess those girls are getting quite the fan base now. You know it's only a matter of time before they go Testament's route and start their own fan club. Morgan and I were talking about that just this morning over breakfast and I was like 'yes! You totally should at some point. Eric'll probably help you out with that, too, because he's the driving force behind that.'”

“What they get for thrashing all around,” Sam chuckled.

“Right! In fact, I've been seeing a lot more women in our crowds now because of them. Definitely more of the punky type of women given their music—lots of dyed mohawks and black leather and studs, but women nonetheless. From a mile away, I can tell they're all women. Not only do I have to owe it to the four of them, but I want to hand it to you and—” He cleared his throat. “—Marla and Belinda especially. Our first real big female fans.” Without a moment's hesitation, he put his arms around her and Sam returned the favor.

She then tucked the notepad into her pocket and before she could step away, Charlie spoke again.

“Did—Marla move into her new place by chance? I know it's been a while. I'm just—you know, just kinda curious.”

“I think she did?” Sam recalled: every night seemed to melt into itself, despite the new surroundings each and every time. “I'll have to ask her when I see her tonight, because I'm not too sure if I'm honest. I called her from the room last night and she told me that she's waiting for a direct deposit from me. And I promised her I'll get it once you guys run off to Finland, 'cause that's when I get the money from Jon.”

“I see. You know, I, um—” He cleared his throat again. “I still think about her from time to time.”

Sam squinted her eyes at him, and she flashed back on the night in which Marla came with her and Joey to her parents' house.

“She told me—you guys broke up because you have feelings about someone else.”

“And I do,” he answered, frank.

“Do you mind me asking?” She lowered her voice enough to where only he could hear her over the commotion around them. He nibbled on his bottom lip and he gazed off to the side.

“I won't tell anyone,” she vowed. “I promise. I'm not like Belinda—I'll keep a secret.”

He chuckled at that, but then his expression turned serious once again.

“Rosita,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded at her. “She's just—she's a babe. She rocks, too. Just the way she plays bass, man, it just—it kind of reminds me of the way Frankie plays bass and the way Cliff used to play bass, too.”

Her heart skpped a few beats at the sound of Cliff's name.

“Real friendly and just—” He shook his head again. “I've tried to ask her out but I just never got the courage to do so yet.”

“You ought to,” Sam told him. “Cliff did and we just clicked from that point on. For all you know, she might be the one for you.”

Charlie sighed through his nose and he nibbled on his bottom lip again.

“It's a long flight up to Helsinki from here,” he said. “That's a long time to think of the right words. I just don't really like being put on the spot like that. When I asked Marla out, she and I were all alone. It's just—finding that solitary moment, you know?”

“Yeah. 'Cause we're surrounded by people constantly.”

“Right. Exactly, yeah! I can always pull her aside—like when people are getting off of the plane. I'll ask her right there.”

“You should.”

“I don't wanna make any promises, though, 'cause something always come up. Things always come up, especially while on tour.”

“Right...”

“But I'll give it a shot, though,” he told her. “That's the only promise I can genuinely make is that.” He sighed through his nose and he glanced down to his hands. “And thank you for this, by the way.” He flashed the little sketch to her.

“Just—an artist to another artist.”

“Exactly!” Charlie peered over his shoulder to the other side of the room to the front doors and he knitted his eyebrows together. “Time is it?”

“I think it's almost noon?”

“I think Zelda might be on break. Why don't you go talk to her?”

Sam then nodded her head and once she tucked the notepad into her purse, she ambled over to the stairs at the edge of the stage; she padded across the narrow strip of carpet before the stage and then she made her way up one of the two aisles that split the rows of seats into neat thirds. She reached the double doors at the top there and she pushed open the one on the right: indeed, right in the front lobby of the theater was Zelda and Morgan seated at a low white table with felt tip pens in hand. The former had combed her back into a slick pompadour upon her head while the latter had on a bright red cowgirl hat and red lace gloves on her hands, complete with a red and black lace brassiere under a red lace bolero.

Zelda then turned her head and her face lit up at the sight of Sam.

“Hey, there she is!” she declared. “We were just discussing special outfits for tonight's show, given we're in Texas and whatnot.”

“Kinda makes me wish I had my black hat with me,” Sam confessed with a pat of her own head.

“We could be dead cowgirls,” Morgan said with a smirk on her face. “With nooses around our necks and splatters all over our hats.”

“Dead punk cowgirls,” Zelda corrected her with a nod. She then returned to Sam. “So what's up?”

“You wanted to talk to me about something?”

She hesitated and then she gasped and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, that!” Her expression then turned serious. “Been meaning to tell you this for a couple of days now, and it just keeps slipping from memory. Just because I have other, important things to worry about and remember.”

Sam lingered next to her, and the edge of the table.

“Another reason to be nicer to Alex the next time you see him,” Zelda started again as she held the pen in between two fingers.

“What's that?” Sam asked her, and she hesitated once more.

“Do you ever notice how bullies tend to travel in packs,” she pointed out, and Sam stopped right in her tracks.

“What do you mean?”

“They travel in packs and the ones getting picked on are usually solitary.” She turned to Morgan. “Wouldn't you agree, Mo? That bullies travel in packs and their prey often stands alone?”

“Oh, yeah. And it's always a sign of vulnerability, too. They won't admit it, though. But why do you think—cowgirls—punks—metalheads—all travel in packs? Same mindset. Bullies have a similar mindset, but they refuse to admit it.”

Sam frowned at that as Zelda returned her attention to her.

“They travel in packs because they know they're weak on their own. So—my suggestion, Sam.” Zelda twirled the pen in between her fingers. “The next time you see him, like when we're out in California when we get home from Finland—talk to him. And really talk to him, too. That boy deserves it. He just looks—lonely to me. I don't really know his full story, other than what Louie, Zetro, and Greg have all told me about him, but I feel like he's an easy target. So—the little blow up you guys had makes me wonder if he sees you in a shitty light, and I know you're not like that at all. But he needs to know that. He needs to know that you're of good stature. I know it's gonna be hard, given he's so hard himself but—he's still just a young buck, though. We've met a few teenagers signing autographs in here—and it's just so cool to see. These young girls—a lot of boys, too—”

“The girls come for the music, the boys come for something else,” Morgan joked.

“Right!” Zelda burst out laughing, and then she straightened herself out. “But—we've been seeing these kids coming through here in Texas—and there were those kids in Portland, too. And I think it was that bunch—in Tacoma and also in Portland, that got me thinking about Alex again, because he's still just a kid and we haven't seen him in a few weeks 'cause they're with Overkill right now. And I just think—he's legally an adult, but he's still just a boy, though. So—try to talk to him if you can. Let him know that he belongs with the whole gang and everything.”

“It's a little bit hard for us,” Morgan filled in, “because we're punks. We're a punk band. A punk band opening for a metal band, so it just feels a little weird with us and whatnot.”

“But we think that,” Zelda continued, “—since you and him actually have a little bit of history with Cliff especially—you could do it better with him than any of us can.”

“Why us, though? Don't you think one of the guys from Testament could try and talk with him?”

“Because they're dudes,” Zelda replied with a flutter of her eyelashes, “they're not good with feelings like us. I actually tried doing that with Louie once and he was struggling with it, I could tell. One of the things that drove me nuts about him was how it almost felt like I couldn't talk to him about anything on an emotional level.”

Sam thought about that night in Boston, where Louie confessed that Zelda was his affair, and she tightened her lips at the very thought of that. Yet another secret to keep under wraps.

“Anyways—if you could do that, he could probably be a little more—present, I'd say? I was actually talking to Louie just last night and I guess they've been struggling lately.”

“Why's that?” Sam asked her.

“I guess they've been kicking serious ass with the music lately but—they're sorta lacking with the presence. Alex moves around a little bit but he's like stilted, though.”

“They're getting accused of being too much like Metallica, too,” Morgan added.

“Yeah, that's another thing! Chuck apparently sounds way too much like James which is horse shit to me. There's a little parallel there given they're all from the San Francisco Bay Area, but I don't really see it to be honest.”

A knock on the glass door to up the lobby from them caught their attention. Sam recognized that head of fiery red hair in the midday sun outside as she peered in through the smoked glass pane. Fiery dyed red hair coupled with large brown sunglasses, a white camisole over a matching long skirt, and a big shabby hand bag.

“Hey, it's Marla!” Sam called out; she padded over to the doors but before she reached Marla there, she returned to Zelda and wagged a finger at her.

“I'll remember that,” she vowed, and Zelda nodded her head at her. Sam then opened the door and she was greeted by a blast of hot humid air in stark contrast to the air conditioner around her.

“Hey, you!” Marla greeted her and she stepped inside the lobby and shut the door behind her.

“I was wondering when you'd get here,” Sam replied and they embraced one another.

“So Bel and Aurora helped me move my things into the new place in Hell's Kitchen,” Marla started again as she took off her sunglasses, “I just need the other side of the first month's rent and the deposit, too.”

“Well, this is the last date of the tour before they—” Sam gestured back to Zelda and Morgan at the table. “—head up to Helsinki next week. That's when I get paid.”

“Okay, good!” Marla then reached into her hand bag for something and she took out her big Polaroid camera.

“Hey, I remember that.”

“Oh, yeah, we got together at L'Amour—many moons ago, and you made that drawing of me and Charlie. And you used that Polaroid, too. I decided, eh, why not have it again?”

She turned back to Sam again.

“You wanna get something to drink? I'm like dying of thirst right now.”

“I'd love to.”

“You ladies wanna join us?” Marla called to Zelda and Morgan.

“We're shooting the rock star bullshit and signing autographs,” Zelda replied. “We should be seeing more people coming through here in about ten minutes.”

“Yeah, I saw a bunch of people standing out in the shade around the corner here. I thought maybe they showed up early for will call.”

“Nah, it's for them,” Sam told her. “They're actually starting to make serious headway in the music world now.”

“Right on! Anyways, there's a juice bar right up the street here. We can sit in the shade, too, and I just heard that we're not too far from the River Walk and the Alamo, either.”

“So you can literally call me Sam Houston now!”

Zelda and Morgan laughed out loud at that.

“Right!” Marla chuckled. “But anyways, it's actually not bad out—it's just the sun is hotter than holy fuck is all.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam returned to Zelda and Morgan. “I'll see you girls later—”

The two of them stepped outside to the sun as it hung high in the clear blue sky over their heads. Indeed, it wasn't that hot out, but the contrast of the air conditioner and the sunlight on their heads and the sidewalk around them made Sam wish for one of those large oak trees to cover their heads all the way up the block to the corner.

“So we've got a nice view of the water,” Marla told her.

“And it's close to school, too, I remember you telling me that.”

“Yeah, it is! No more taking the stinkin' subways so much. And by the way, Bel told me to tell you that, yes—we will help you. We kinda have to help you.”

“I moved cross country,” Sam recalled, “with the help of my parents, and almost by sheer luck, I met Frankie and Joey, but yeah—I could definitely use a little help.”

They reached the juice bar in question and Sam took to the table right before the front door, right underneath an oak tree and a pair of short stubby palmetto trees, and she set her purse down before her. Marla offered to buy up for her given she hadn't a lot of money on her at the moment.

“I'm just gonna use the bathroom real quick, though,” she told her as she set her purse down on the table before her. Sam nodded her head as she watched Marla head inside of there: that cherry red hair as bright as the very sun itself. Sam gave her hair a toss back and a light breeze came up from behind her. Still not enough to beat the intense summer sun, and she reached into her purse for a ponytail holder.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something by the corner to her left. As she tied up her hair, she looked over and spotted Joey at the corner of the building. He was looking at something, but she couldn't tell as to what he looked at there.

She set her hands down on her lap and she watched him. He stood before the glass and he leaned back a bit. He was looking at his own reflection.

She had an idea.

That in and of itself could act as her newest painting, and she would put more thought into it this time around. She knew he would move at some point. He turned his back to her right then. She had nothing with her but the little notepad and the ink pen in her purse.

But then again, Marla's camera stood right there on the table next to her. Without a second thought, she picked up the camera and she pointed it in Joey's direction. All the times she thought of making a stained glass window about his likeness.

Slim and delicate, almost elegant in fact. The black curls sprawled down his back towards his thin waist. The white shirt he wore only accentuated the thinness of his body and the richness of his curls.

She took out the camera and she took the cover off of the lens. She peered in through the aperture and there he was, right within her line of sight.

“C'mon, Joey, turn to the side again,” she muttered to herself; she rested her finger on the bottom on top. For a second, she felt like a genuine photographer. “The other side. C'mon, Marla's gonna be back soon.”

Like magic, he turned to the right side. She pressed the button and the flash dissipated with the midday sun so he couldn't see it. The camera spat out the Polaroid and she took it before anyone could see it for themselves. She waved it about so the ink would settle in on the paper.

His slim body was as flat as a washboard, and his curls sprawled down towards his waist like tentacles. He had slightly bent his legs at the knees all the while, but she knew she had the perfect subject to work with no one was looking. The decision now was between acrylic paints on canvas once again, or to go forth with the stained glass idea. If she carried out the latter, she would have to take a better shot of him, or he would have to sit still for her again, and she had no idea as to when he would do that again for her.

But she chuckled to herself as she looked on at the photograph in hand. She glanced up and she recognized Marla's head of cherry red hair on the other side of the glass, thus she quickly slipped the camera back into Marla's hand bag and she stashed the Polaroid into her own. Joey then strode away from the glass reflection and towards the front door of the juice bar for himself.

Some day, she would carry out that stained glass idea with him. It was a matter of when and how. Add to this, as she peered into her purse once again, she spotted that little plastic bag at the bottom there. A little more inspiration was all she needed, courtesy of Joey himself. But she had no lighter to do that just yet.

She took another glimpse up to the front door of the bar, and Joey had made his way inside; Marla then doubled back outside, right past him and towards the table once again. She squinted her eyes against the hot summer sun.

“So they've got all manner of smoothies and good stuff for us.”

“I'll take blueberry if they have it,” Sam told her.

“The special for today is blueberry pomegranate.”

“I'll have that then!”

Marla opened her bag for her wallet and frowned at what she saw before her.

“What happened here?” she wondered aloud.

“What do you mean?”

She picked up her camera and she delved about the bottom of the hand bag for something.

“The cover came off of the lens.” And Sam shook her head at that given she merely tossed the lid in there. Marla stuck the cover back on and then she returned for her wallet.

“It is getting kind of long in tooth, though. I've had it a long time... anyways, I'll be right back. And Joey's in there, by the way!”

“Oh, boy!” Sam felt her face grow warm at the sound of that, and Marla returned to the front door once again. The sight of Marla putting the cover back onto the lens made her think of Zelda's words to her. She could keep a secret, and yet she needed to heed by that promise as well. She reached into her purse again, and that time for the notepad and the pen.

The last night of the North American stint for the time being and she could fill in the next two pages there with some other things. She lifted the penultimate page and then she set the pad down on the table before her.

“'Talk to Alex,'” she muttered to herself as she wrote the words down on that final page of the notepad. Now she had something else to live to, especially since Marla knew nothing about what had happened that morning in her own city.

[shepherds-of-haven]

What would each ROs spirit animal be, and why?

Hi there, I’ve answered this before here, here, and here!

(However, it was recently brought to my attention by a kind person that use of the phrase “spirit animal” by non-Native people could be offensive or appropriating, so I won’t be using it anymore. I think guardian animal or patronus is better, so that’s what I’ll be using in my tags and whatnot from now on!)

I took this quiz for each of the ROs to see if their answers differed from what I’d put for them before, so here are their results:

Blade: Sable. Cool and confident - if not a little over-polished - sables are the most graceful of the herbivore personalities. With their outstanding physical presence and successful work ethic, they enjoy the universal admiration from colleagues and friends. Dapper in dress and noble in bearing, their tastes and lifestyle are refined and restrained and they disapprove of flashy or ostentatious behavior in any form.

Trouble: Zebra. Loyal and strong .Those that come into contact with the zebra find it to be a powerfully loyal and intelligent friend. Its black and white nature shuns the gray zones of compromise, and its decided idealism is incapable of accepting defeat in an argument. Zebras find it difficult to be punctual when it comes to meeting commitments that have little value to them, and close examination of this trait reveals the subtle arrogance that pervades the zebra's personality.

Tallys: Owl.  A creature of great integrity, the owl’s quiet demeanor accords it an air of mystery and diffidence, and it is widely recognized as a serene, wise observer of human society. Always well-groomed, it is a noble individual with elegantly chiseled features that border on the fine edge of beauty and homeliness. Owls have developed quite a reputation for intelligence, but it's really their calm, insightful natures that give this impression. Instead of an intellectual approach to life, they employ their deeper spiritual senses to guide them and -- like their nocturnal cohorts the bats -- have a deeply philosophical bent. Owls are not without their assertive side, however, and won't hesitate to use their razor-sharp tongues to settle arguments. 

Shery: Mole. Physically, moles are not awe-inspiring individuals. Their pale skin and plump physique are usually accompanied by thick glasses or contacts that compensate for poor eyesight. However, they are comfortable with their flaccid bodies and seek companionship with others who appreciate their more philosophical qualities. Passive and unassertive, they prefer to retreat at the first sign of confrontation and would rather run than take physical action. (Okay, this one seems meaner than the others?! Dead-on about the poor eyesight though gfdkjgfdlg??)

Riel: Penguin. Aggressive yet gentle, outgoing but shy, stable yet flighty - everyone sees the penguin in a different way. It's that black and white thing: the penguin only reveals the side that it wants to you to see. So whether you like this darling-devil or not, you have to concede that it's a fascinating and enigmatic individual. Penguins are birds condemned to live out their days on the ground. Unable to fly, their excess energy has no outlet save their creative talents and emotional outbursts. Penguins are poetic, artistic, and intellectually gifted, and as writers penguins have no equal. But, if unable to channel their impulses in a positive way, the resulting turmoil proves damaging to their relationships and careers. Penguins are deceptively intelligent and are particularly animated when intellectually challenged. They excel at word games and puzzles but are modest about their abilities and are generally underestimated by others.

Chase: Deer. Gorgeous yet capricious. This beautiful and delicate creature is a classic example of a prey species, and with few defenses other than its nimble mind and agile body it must be constantly on the lookout for danger. Deer are active and lithe creatures with little excess body fat, and enjoy and excel at most athletic pursuits. Their athleticism and grace may well create a fine first impression; it often masks a scatterbrained and emotionally taxing inner core. Best known for their highly-strung and skittish behavior, deer personalities are shy and demure. With a propensity to withdraw emotionally for fear of getting hurt, deer often struggle to settle down, and their motivations are certainly difficult to predict. Because their coquettish behavior is rooted in deeply buried insecurities, deer are drawn to the entertainment industry as actors and models, where -- by hiding behind the mask of characters --they find temporary refuge from the painful elements in their own lives.

Red: Fox. Astute and flirtatious. These agile-minded personalities are always active and -- although they never go out of their way to harm others -- have developed an unfair reputation for slyness and manipulation. Appealing, cerebral and of average size, the fox displays the typical canine qualities of loyalty, passion and creativity. Largely misunderstood to be a shy, retreating individual, it's the fox's stature as a small carnivore that defines its survival strategy. Because it cannot succeed using brute force alone, the fox must rely on its sharp mind and engaging personality to garner resources. Because it spends so much time in its head -- giving the impression that it's trying to outsmart everyone – the fox isn’t surprised that others find its intellectual pursuits quite intimidating (and often annoying). Foxes are fussy eaters and, with an appreciation for the finer things in life, demand quality in entertainment, food, and friends. Their love of exploration dovetails with their passion for overcoming challenges, which is why foxes are often found mountain climbing or journeying to exotic, forbidden places.

Ayla: Crocodile. Crocodiles are lean, leathery individuals with air of wariness that comes from living on the edge, which is why their skins are often decorated with scars or tattoos. Crocodiles are not always easy to identify because their survival strategy is based on misdirection and camouflage. As natural predators, crocs will attack without subtlety or intelligence and use any weapon at their disposal.Crocodiles prefer docile prey and will not hesitate to employ dirty tricks to gain an advantage. They have little sense of honor and, the more unwary their victim, the better. Crocs have little conscience, compassion, or guiding philosophy except that of survival and self-interest.

Briony: Wolf. The rugged wolf is athletic, good-looking and brimming with self-confidence. A close relative of the domestic dog, it is stronger and more aggressive, managing to generate notoriety wherever it marks its territory. The wolf's dark reputation is mainly due to jealousy of its consistent success in work and romance. With an innate understanding of the value of teamwork, it’s always ready to take its place in the chain of command either as leader or as simply a member of the pack. When a wolf decides to innovate, it makes sure that it has the backing of a capable team, for the wolf is clear-headed and strong-minded, and always willing to compromise in the interests of getting a job done. Wolves are facially expressive and readily communicate their emotional states with body language. They work hard at developing their social relationships, although -- unlike their cousin the dog -- they are quick to anger when they sense threats to the social order. When confrontations occur, they sometimes react suddenly and violently, barking displeasure at offending subordinates. Close companions know to avoid their biting tongue until they resume their normal gregarious behavior.

Lavinet: Dolphin. Dolphins are those tanned, beautiful people who populate background scenes in shows like Baywatch, and somehow remain annoyingly healthy while eating and drinking with abandon. You’ll rarely encounter an overweight dolphin.Perhaps it's their active lifestyles that keep them so trim, but their good genes have something to do with it too, for even though many dolphins subsist on junk food, their hair is shiny and their skin always glossy. Though the dolphin’s large brain is capable of solving almost any problem, its reputation for intelligence is overrated, for dolphins place little value in cerebral pursuits and avoid mental challenges.  They are nonetheless able to hold their own in debates, but prefer cavorting and surfing to discussing weighty philosophical issues. Dolphins demand little from life other than the time to enjoy it. As highly sexual individuals, they spend a great deal of time in the pursuit of bodily pleasure, and their aggressive quest for sex sometimes dominates social interactions. Dolphins are not designed for manual labor. Their bodies lack the skilled hand-eye coordination found in land mammal personalities, but their intelligence and social abilities bestow the special advantage in people-oriented careers.

What do you think? Some of these are fairly accurate, but the others...

If you take one for your MC, the results tell you which animals are compatible to your own!

[typinggently]

Also hi yes 3 for Napollya too (a painter, a fire, a box) because fuck yeah Napoleon as an artist au?? OR BETTER YET MAKE PERIL THE PAINTER YOOOOOOO he would have such an interesting eye no? (I enjoy art purely from an aesthetic viewpoint and maybe appreciate some symbolism or whatnot but this is all to say that I don’t actually know a ton about art but appreciate it nonetheless)

When I tell you I love both of those options…💝💝 And there is SO much to be explored. I was briefly overwhelmed with all the possibilities. Renaissance AU with a marriage proposal portrait sitting sessions?! Avant-garde artist in the 20s and nouveau riche?! In the end, I settled on the canon timeline, mostly inspired by Napoleon’s career path.

-

Art Thief and Art Forger AU

-

Unfortunately, if you want to do something extremely well, you most likely will need some help along the way. Now, that’s not the worst thing in the world. Napoleon has worked with Gaby plenty of times and she’s an absolute angel. Fantastic behind the wheel, incredible with explosives and breathtaking in a cocktail dress.

And sure, it could work with just them – Napoleon’s quick fingers and Gaby’s fast cars could run this show, no problem. But see, there’s more to a brilliant team than a thief and a getaway car.

 “Ah, you brought pink panther.” Illya doesn’t turn as they enter, doesn’t even look up from his easel. The late morning sun spills light through dust-milky windows and makes his hair glow a particularly intense shade of gold.

Peeling wallpaper, dust-sticky wooden floors and bay windows. Next to Illya, a desk covered with prints and books, some magazines. Napoleon walks around the easel to look at the display, not wanting to step into Illya’s light. “Good to see you, too. I see you did your research.” A miniature museum on Holbein, exhibited in black and white on glossy pages. In between, loose paper filled with Illya’s delicate-neat handwriting in pencil and sketchbooks with paint-stiff pages.

This time, Illya does look up, leaning to the side to glare at him from around the easel. “I always do research.” Up close, Napoleon notices traces of green paint in his hair, where he must’ve run his stained fingers through it. “How about you do yours, too?”

“Of course you do, I wasn’t trying to imply anything.” Napoleon pulls one of the loose sheets closer, but he’s not terribly good at reading Cyrillic handwriting, so it’s little more than silver ornaments on paper. There are some sketches of noses on the back and he traces them with his fingertip. “And your suspicion wounds me.”

There’s a soft rustle of cloth and Napoleon looks up to find Illya facing him, faded t-shirt and dust-stained trousers. “You’re not burning down my studio again.” He indicates the room with his brush. “It’s close to the Bücherei.”

Napoleon clicks his tongue. “Now, Rubens, that was once.”

“Rubens?” Illya scoffs. “Don’t embarrass yourself, the job is in two months.” He returns his attention to the easel, elegant nose and round chin.

Napoleon hums, pulling one of the magazines closer to page through it. “I can tell the difference between Holbein and Rubens, don’t worry. I was talking about you. You know, the self-portrait with his wife?”

He can tell Illya stopped fiddling with his palette to look at him again, no doubt frowning. “Now, I admit you’re much more handsome. He does have that wine-sweet look on his face and all that, with the rosy-plump cheeks. But the golden hair, the blue eyes, the generally dreamy expression –“

“Dreamy expression?” Illya huffs. “Be quiet, I have to work.”

Napoleon looks up, but Illya’s turning as far away from him as possible under the pretence of observing the canvas. Still, Napoleon can make out the faintest hint of a blush on the back of his neck. He lets the magazine fall closed and straightens. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it.”

With that, he rounds the easel again on his way to the door. By the doorway, he stops and turns. “Ah, just one last thing –“ Now, he rearranges the jacket he’s slung over his arm and his overnight bag a little to open the zipper and pull out a tin. “I picked up some tea in Leningrad. I’ll put it in the kitchen for you, yeah?”

Illya’s shoulders are a tense line and he’s very intently staring at his palette. The tips of his ears are pink. “No need. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Napoleon says, smile audible in his voice, and closes the door on his way out. In the kitchen, he first puts down the tin, then pulls a sketchbook out of his open bag.

The spine is broken and the edges rounded, the fabric thin with use. It’s too risky to flip through it here, with the danger of Gaby slipping in and interrupting him, but he can already tell that it’s going to be interesting. Bold strokes and bold colours, much bolder than what Illya has to paint now, and much bolder than what he usually says.

Napoleon may not be able to read Cyrillic, but he can read art. And other than some criminally inclined young soviet masters, he knows how to take a compliment.

 -

 I strayed a bit from the whole box/fire things but I hope it still counts… Also I put way more thought into this than I could express in such a short scene but basically: They’re in Germany to steal a specific painting and exchange it for a forgery. I was thinking of Holbein’s Portrait of Simon George of Cornwall – no clue if it was in Germany at the time, but it is now, and I love it a lot. Originally, I was thinking of having Illya paint a portrait of Napoleon in a renaissance au, which I would’ve based on that painting. But well. I love the idea of Illya as a modern, cubist type of artist but alas, he’s talented and thus has to paint the old masters. But his sketchbook is definitely crammed full of little Napoleon portraits <3<3<3

Ok that’s it. Thank you so much for the prompt!!! I hope you liked it! 💝

[molusca]

she apologized for how she handled the situation and apologized for brushing off someone's honest criticisms as hate. what more is she meant to do? throw herself onto a pyre? is she not allowed to feel lousy that this whole thing blew up in her face? because she's an adult and she made a mistake, she's not allowed to be sad or stressed? she's still an imperfect human. apologizing immediately usually means people are still sensitive to their own hurt of being called out because it's fresh and on their mind so it tends to slip into their apology, but if she had waited any longer to compose herself, you guys would probably have an issue with how long she took. also, in aaaaaallll of this, I've have yet to once see what exactly about her work is so problematic? I've read her fic and I personally can't see anything wrong, although I will admit that yes, I'm a white ciswoman but I'd like to think I'm aware of negative tropes. but the only thing touted is "it made an mlm uncomfortable" but HOW??? honestly, I want to know! if anything so I can avoid doing the same thing! how is anyone meant to learn when you're not bringing up these points as often as you're explicitly laying out the problems in her apology and whatnot. I've seen 6 posts about how shit the apology was and for why and I've not once seen the original comment detailing why the fic was problematic, and I've been looking on twit, tumblr, insta, and ao3. if it's been deleted, why isn't anyone stating again and again what's wrong? also, if someone is making fic/art you don't like, don't. interact. with. it. there's tons of stuff on ao3 and twit that I don't like, some of it that I think is disgusting (do you know how many fics there are with keith/kosmos?) and I just scroll past it cause it can't hurt me if I don't read it. there's one artist that's pretty popular on Twitter and I personally really hate they way they draw klance but it's all over my tl. I respect that person's art style and creativeness and keep on moving. other people enjoy it, good for them. and if I start reading something and get surprised with something I dont like, I leave! find people who write things you like and stop engaging with creators who's things you don't like, as far as I know no one is holding a gun to your head making you read problematic fic. also for as much as you rag on her for the words she used to apologize, you don't seem to be considering your own words when offering criticism. if Taylor mistook the person's words as hate, couldn't it have been because the way he worded the complaint was done hatefully? lastly, no one, absolutely no one, is required to talk about world issues when they're running a fandom account,no matter how "big" they are. we all know what's going on in the world, we're surrounded by sad and stressful stories practically 24/7 and if someone isn't, they're probably curating their social feeds to be that way (like you should do when it come to kl content creators you don't like). people sending hate in Taylor's defense are in the wrong I agree, and this isn't hate its critism its a discussion, but Taylor isn't responsible for, how many people did you say? 16k on twit? even if she said hey guys stop, you think they would? she's can't control all those people and expecting her to is nonsense. I see so many younger fans expecting perfection in their fandoms and that just isn't going to happen. yes we should be striving to be better but no one is ever going to be perfect. not you, not me, not the mlm person, not Taylor, not anyone on any side of this argument. the only way to avoid this kind of circular dog piling and hate sending is to better curate your fandom experience by ignore those you have issues with.- 🦛

she apologized for how she handled the situation and apologized for brushing off someone's honest criticisms as hate. what more is she meant to do?

im pretty sure i said its good that she realizes she handled it poorly. but she makes the whole apology about this, doesnt directly talk about the issues and i know someone went to her to talk about it. also, it took her a day to say something about it so it wasnt exactly immediate (in the sense people had already stopped talking about it but that doesnt mean they werent still bothered). the apology was directed at mlm, and i havent seen one saying it felt genuine. of couse she can be hurt but when you apologize to a marginalized group the focus shouldnt be your feelings, but the feelings of the ones you have hurt.

I've have yet to once see what exactly about her work is so problematic?

she admits to be projecting on lance. so she makes him very femine and keith very masculine. and ok, gay couples like that do exist, but she is a woman projecting in this situation so this bothers people. putting mlm in this position is a harmful steriotype, bc it feels very heterosexual. this is a trope, it unfortunately happens a lot and its harmful. women need to be aware of what they are representing when drawing/writing mlm because well, real mlm are going to see it, and no one likes to feel like a fetish to others. and its not our place to question if the criticism is right or wrong when we are not mlm, so if you read this and think “but thats not a problem thats not a fetish etc” well, its not your place to judge that. theres more to it and you probably could get a better answer from a mlm sorry.

if someone is making fic/art you don't like, don't. interact. with. it. there's tons of stuff on ao3 and twit that I don't like, some of it that I think is disgusting (do you know how many fics there are with keith/kosmos?) and I just scroll past it cause it can't hurt me if I don't read it.

please, lets not compare a minority pointing out harmful tropes with. something fucking illegal.

as you said, you are a cis woman, of course its not going to hurt you in this case. but if people are making harmful content its not a simple matter of “dont interact with it” because they will still be promoting it, other people are going to read it, and media influences how we see minorities so of course people will not like when they see bad portrayal of them. also, tumblr sucks so even if you want to just “dont interact with it” its hard because even after blocking you can still cross the content of someone. not sure how it works on twitter but anyway this discussion started on tumblr and tumblr doesnt stop people who were bothered by her to avoid her by blocking.

if Taylor mistook the person's words as hate, couldn't it have been because the way he worded the complaint was done hatefully?

i think she deleted the ask by now, but i dont remember the ask being hateful. i remember someone asking if she was a fujoshi, and another person mentioned that mlm didnt like the way she portrayals klance. i dont remember it being hateful. but again, she apologized for handling it badly. its just that she stops there.

no one, absolutely no one, is required to talk about world issues when they're running a fandom account,no matter how "big" they are. we all know what's going on in the world, we're surrounded by sad and stressful stories practically 24/7 and if someone isn't, they're probably curating their social feeds to be that way

ignoring world issues is a privilege. if someone is able to turn off from all the problems in the world, its a privilige. yes no one should talk aobut it all the time thats not even healthy, but to never talk about it is a privilege. thats what black people are saying, they cant just turn off from racism, so yes they are going to expect white people to do something. online honestly i cant do shit, i dont think anything i reblog here does a difference and i do what i can in my own country, but she has a plataform that could help bring awareness. again, its a privilege to be able to curate your social media to be a perfect happy place.

even if she said hey guys stop, you think they would? she's can't control all those people and expecting her to is nonsense.

maybe they wouldnt, but if people were doing this type of thing in my name, in my defense, i would at least say something about it idk. she cant control them but she makes nothing to show that she disagrees or look for the people being harassed to say something about it.

the only way to avoid this kind of circular dog piling and hate sending is to better curate your fandom experience by ignore those you have issues with.

when it comes to simple things like “i prefer taller lance and i dont like taller keith” yeah, its fine to ignore people who draw taller keith and move on with your life or something like that. but we are talking about mlm, a real group of people, being upset for being portrayed in a harmful and steriotype way. its everywhere in fandom, and in real life. they cant escape from real life, and then they come to fandom where everyone wants some escapism and have to deal with more issues. its tiring