#well. i tried to do vaguely the same style for these but i did not fully succeed given how i drew them months apart. Amen

[skyberia]

nin nebiros (he/him) & asa anhedone (they/them)

[chosolar]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ wait for your love

nanami kento x fem!reader

exhusband!nanami who was your best friend since high school. you met during your 2nd year when he was getting teased for being a loser and you defended him. he stayed close to you after and has been close to you ever since.

exhusband!nanami who was forced to come with you to all the parties that you were too shy to go to. he never minded being your DD, as long as he knew you were safe then he didn't care about not being able to drink.

exhusband!nanami's parents had always nagged him to find someone after he graduated university. he took over his dad's company and as happy as his parents were, they wanted a daughter in law! he hated all the set ups his mom made him go to so he came to you with a proposition — get married to him for a few years to make his parents happy and he'll give you however much money you wanted. you needed the money he was offering so you accepted. the wedding was small and intimate with only your close friends and some family members.

exhusband!nanami worked his ass off ever since you accepted his proposal. even if it was just a marriage of convenience, he wanted to make sure you lived happily with him.

exhusband!nanami was the perfect husband. he was attentive, loving, and always spoiled you with everything you could ever want. the ladies in your neighbourhood loved him, wishing that their husbands were a fragment of what nanami is.

exhusband!nanami spent almost 5 years of marriage in bliss with you until you started pulling away. he never pushed you to talk though because he knew you were going through something. so he waited until you were ready to talk to him.

exhusband!nanami who felt in the dark when he was served with divorce papers. he was busy with paperwork, not bothering to look up at whoever was knocking on his office door. it wasn't until the manila envelope was placed on top of his desk that he looked up to see whoever served him.

exhusband!nanami wanted at least an answer before he signs the papers. you just told him the most vague answers. "I feel like we've grown apart" "we want different things in life" "I just can't do this anymore" he was confused with every reason that you gave.

exhusband!nanami couldn't wrap his head around the separation. he thought everything was going well but once he signed the papers to finalize the divorce, he felt the weight of losing you come all at once.

exhusband!nanami who hated being with anyone else but you. even if it did start out as a loveless marriage, he fell for you hard throughout the years. every "I love you" he's ever said, he's meant it. every kiss, every hug, nanami was surprisingly a good actor but he could never fake the affection he felt for you.

exhusband!nanami despises coming home. it was eerily empty and quiet, the sound of his footsteps were the only thing he could hear. he frequently thinks about moving away to get his mind away from you but he can't. he stays at the same place you've always know where he's been just in case you ever come back.

exhusband!nanami started drinking and smoking to waste his time. he rarely drank during college and he only did during parties with you. now that you're gone, he's turned to his vices. he knows that you hate the smell of cigarettes and you hate people who couldn't handle their alcohol but why does it matter if you're not with him anymore?

exhusband!nanami still remembers every little detail about you. no matter how hard he tried, he could never forget you and everything about you. you're the love of his life even if you don't feel the same about him.

exhusband!nanami felt like everything stopped when he saw you again on the street. you're still as beautiful as ever. your hair's longer and you've changed your style, but other than that you're still his pretty ex wife.

exhusband!nanami breathlessly greeted you back when you came up and said hi to him first. he thought you would've ignored him and just went along your way, but you stayed. your eyes stare up at him as you watch him fumble over his words. his heart skips faster as he sees you grin over his flustered state.

exhusband!nanami watches you leave after catching up. he wishes that it lasted a minute longer because for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he can breathe properly again.

exhusband!nanami starts sobering up and taking care of himself. he threw away the bottles of alcohol and cigarettes packs so that he can get away from feeling sorry for himself. if he ever sees you again, he wants to impress you (and make you regret your decision).

exhusband!nanami is shocked when he sees your face on the doorbell camera. the weather was relentless and he sees you shivering in the cold so he opens his door immediately. he hands you a change of warm clothes and turns up the thermometer of the house. 

while he's making hot tea for the both of you, he notices the bathroom door open and out you step, his clothes basically engulfing your body. nanami looks away, trying and failing to get rid of his lewd thoughts.

"sorry those are the only clothes I have that could fit you." nanami apologizes but you shook your head. "no don't be! if anything I should apologize for inconveniencing you."

nonsense, nanami thinks, you could never bother me.

nanami disregards his thoughts, "don't worry about that, I'm just glad to get you out of that snowstorm."

he hands you a cup of tea and you take notice of the mug he has in his hand. you think out loud, "you kept that mug?"

"hmm?" nanami glances up at you then to the cup, "oh yeah. how could I throw it away? you made it for me."

"but that was back in high school."

"and? I've kept everything you've ever given me." nanami cooly responded.

you kept quiet as you take sips of the tea he made for you. the taste is familiar until you remember — he made your favourite tea, just the way you like it. you dart your eyes between the tea and the blond man.

why is he like this? why is he still making your heart flutter after all this time? you wanted to get away but you couldn't, not until the storm calms down. the news reported that it'll continue until early in the morning meaning you'll have to stay inside — with him. knowing nanami, he would never let you out because he still worries for your safety.

sleepiness was creeping up on you as you both sat in the living room. nanami sees your head bobbling through his peripheral and offers you the guest room that you promptly accepted. he leaves you be, letting you explore the home that is exactly the same as when you used to live in it.

nanami laid in his bed, moving constantly to find a comfortable position enough to fall asleep. but he couldn't.

the only thing in his mind was you who was only a few doors down away from him. were you sleeping soundly or do you feel as insomnolent as him? he wants to get up and check on you but he restrains himself. with the wind blowing, all he can hear is the rage of the snowstorm hitting the windows of the house.

nanami directs his attention from the windows to the knocking of the door. "nanami? are you awake?"

he instructs for you to come in, the light from the hallway seeps into the darkness of his bedroom. he sits up and taps the space in front of him on his bed to tell you to come sit there. "why are you still awake?"

"couldn't sleep after I got into bed. you?" you wonder as you go to sit on his bed. he chuckles, "same. do you wanna talk? I remember you used to fall asleep to me talking."

"you remember?"

"how could I forget?"

you lift your legs to place them onto the bed and cross them, wrapping your arms and pulling your knees onto your chest. "why do you still remember everything about me?"

"I was your best friend before I was your husband. even if I wanted to forget, everything about you is engrained in me." his hand moves up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. "you were my first and my last, it'll be that way till I die."

"you're so dumb," you mumble into your arms, "I divorced you and you still treat me so well."

nanami grasps your wrist and brings you to his lap, his arms wrapped loosely around you. he kisses your temple softly. "does that bother you?"

"I don't know," you confess. nanami exhales before he changes the topic. "if we're being honest, can you finally tell me now why you wanted a divorce?"

you shook your head. "not really, you might hate me."

"I won't." nanami reassures, "just be honest with me dear."

you sigh.

"the marriage was feeling too real."

nanami's expression twists into confusion.

"it was an agreement between us that if one day one of us wanted to stop, we will," you continue, "and one day, I thought about it. there's going to be a day you come up to me and maybe you'll tell me that you found someone else. I don't want to go through that, I don't want to lose you but we've already gone so far. I figured it was best for me to leave before that day does come.

"you'll never have to worry about that," nanami tightens his arms around you, "it's always been you."

you hugged him back, the scent of his cologne intensifies as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. "can we start over? but for real this time."

"we don't need to start over," nanami places a kiss on the top of your head, "we can just pick up where we left off."

as soon as the storm stopped, husband!nanami takes you to city hall to sign a new marriage certificate.

husband!nanami makes sure to treat you right this time. if you think that the act he was putting up was good, then nanami not having to hide his feelings is better. he's not one to shy away from physical affection in public as he always wants to hold your hand or stay very close to you.

husband!nanami who will always reassure you that he'll never leave. you are the light of his life, the reason he wants up everyday. he'll never take a day with you granted.

husband!nanami finds it adorable when you watch over the neighbour's daughter. he'll wait until her parents pick her up and then he'll bring up the thoughts that's been plaguing his mind for a while now.

"honey, what do you think about starting a family?"

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

as per usual, not proofread!! ◡̈

[kianamaiart]

I just wanted to tell you that I love idwtbamg and am especially blown away by the character designs for aika and zira!!!!!! their colour palettes compliment each other really well and are soft while still having some contrast and I would love to know how you came up with the designs or if you don't feel like sharing that, your favourite parts of their designs and what you're most proud of? Good luck with the pilot, by the way!!! ^^

Aw thank you so much! Character design was initially what I wanted to do when entering the industry so I love whenever I'm able to do it~

I talk about my process for picking colors here a bit!

Design process under the cut (loooong post ahead)

Whenever I'm designing a cast of characters I always start with the main character and build off of them. I started specifically with Aika's normal girl design. I wanted a star theme, and the star hair was the first thing I knew I needed. With her hair being the most eye catching and important part of her design, I wanted to make sure whatever else she had going on wasn't gonna distract from it too much. So I went for a more top heavy, but simple look with a big tshirt, small black pants. Aika was initially fully blonde but the stark black pants was starting to pull the eye. That gave me the idea to use the stark black in her hair (for the bottom half)! Made her hair even more eye catching and highlighted the star pigtails in a nice way.

For her magical girl design, I wanted to make it feel over the top and overwhelming to contribute visually why Aika wouldn't want to be a magical girl. Big poofy dress, ribbons poking out everywhere for a crazy silhouette and tall, tall platforms. I also wanted to give her longer hair in this form so I went with goddess locs! I was able to do an easy shorthand with it (long thick strands with lil curls at the end) I like the kinda biblically accurate angel look she has. My favorite part of this design was the ribbons in her hair that make the star pigtails look like shooting stars heehee

With Zira I knew I wanted her to be opposite to Aika. So sticking with the space thing, I gave her a moon motif and that was my jumping off point. With Aika having high pigtails, I decided to give Zira low pigtails and give them a vaguely crescent shape (like crescent moons get it?). Continuing with the opposites thing, I wanted to make Zira's design bottom heavy as opposed to Aika's top heavy one, and also color-wise, go on the opposite side of the color wheel from yellow for its complimentary color, purple! I didn't want Zira to feel too stylish (she's a loser after all) but also didn't wanna make her design ugly. I tried toeing the line of out of style but lowkey trendy with the grungy skirt, jeans combo. Also went with the stark black shirt under the tshirt to lean harder into the 2000s look. On top of that it helped tie her design to Aika's more (this is where I decided the stark black was gonna be an essential part of the design language of this show). My favorite part of her design for me is the mangled ends of her pants. It's a small detail but I think it says a lot about her as a character (she drags her feet, she's a little careless, kinda messy, etc.)

Hoshi is star. There's not much more to their design haha. I did give them wings to mirror Aika's dress ribbons. With their human design though, I just knew I wanted to make sure that they'd be able to make a star shape with their silhouette. Thus the hoodie and stubby limbs. Gave them the stark black pants (again at this point, it's part of the design language of this show). I tossed around the idea of giving them eyes that matched more with Aika and Zira, but it just didn't look like Hoshi so I stuck with the same face in their star design and I just thought that was funny hehe. My favorite part of Hoshi's design is just the overall fact that I managed to make them look like a star in their human form still haha

Eclipse was the hardest design for me. You would not believe how long it took me to decide whether I wanted to make him a boy or a girl. Eclipse was also gonna be named Void (and DeVoid was gonna be Eclipse) but it didn't feel quite right. I knew I wanted him to ALSO be opposite from Aika, but in a different way that Zira is. Looking at it that way helped me land on the name Eclipse because I thought it'd be fun to give both Zira and him moon motifs (as Aika's love interest and alleged love interest respectively). Similar to Zira I wanted to have purple be in his design to contrast the yellow in Aika's design. Due to his name now being Eclipse, I figured going dark with his design would make the most sense but my friend/roommie Bri @/ghostbri (who is a professional painter/color designer) suggested going pastel instead and it worked perfectly. It matched his personality and also plays on the fact that he cares more about theatrics and aesthetics than actual villainy. He completely misses the point of being the servant of darkness. He's heavily inspired by Tuxedo Mask. I wanted to make it feel like he saw a cool character once in a tv show and he decided to make it his whole persona. So he's got the suit, he's got the cape and he's got the mask. My favorite part of his design is his cape, intended to also have a crescent moon shape but then also have that stark black on the inside so his silhouette really pops against it. It's funny bc it ended up being like a reverse eclipse where the light is blocking out the dark.

DeVoid was the easiest for me to come up with the design for LMAO. Like obviously. I wanted to make her feel slick but prickly but also slightly over the top like a lot of old school magical girl villains. I thought it'd be a difficult balance to strike but it actually wasn't too bad! I gave her a sort of form fitting cocktail dress and at this point the stark black was a must so it worked out that the "void" character would just be in that all black look. It really helped her feel slick like I wanted (also gave her the slicked back hair for this reason). To give her some edge, I gave her the giant pointy shoulder pads, giant pointy horns, pointy ears, sharp nails and bat wings! Oh also worth mentioning she's the one main cast character I didn't use Aika as a jumping off point for. I designed her to look good next to Eclipse since they'd be the ones interacting the most. I made her wings white to contrast with her black dress (opposite to how Eclipse has a black cape but then mostly white outfit). To ensure that her design wasn't too dark and that her arms would read against her body, I gave her those bright silver bracelets~ While her design was easy for me to come up with, my god figuring out what color to make her hair was killing me. Tbh I was avoiding pink/red like the plague. I didn't want her to look toooo much like Jessie Team Rocket LOL. I tried white, I tried purple, I tried a more pastel pink but none of them worked well in a lineup with the rest of the characters. Bri helped talked me through all this haha. Pink/red worked the best especially there was no pink/red in the entire lineup. The Jessie influence is still there but I feel like she looks different enough! Favorite part of her design is her big ass horns)

Finally Miss! Miss was an interesting case because I designed her as I was storyboarding the pilot. She was intended to be an incidental character that we'd only randomly see once in a while. She had a veeery generic teacher design in my first pass but then as I was hiring VAs I got the idea to cast Michele Knotz to play her and that was enough for my brain to start going and come up with a backstory for her and a role that could tie in with the rest of the cast in a more meaningful way. Because of this, I designed Miss to the voice I imagined Michele would use for her. She does a great groggy and tired voice so I gave her those tired eyes, she has a darker color palette, her posture's a little more sluggish, etc. Her design still felt bland in the board so I gave her a couple piercings which helped. But then! The stark black! I gave her the half dyed hair which worked phenomenally and is probably my favorite part of her design. It leans into the tired feel (too tired to dye her roots) and also was a nice way to get the black in her design without just having to give her black pants or a black shirt or something. I'd only figured out her color palette way later and after recording Michele. The VA announcement image was the first time I'd fully drawn and colored Miss. I went with green since there was no green in the lineup! Also green's my favorite color so I had to.

PHEW that's it! Hope it was an interesting read and look into my brain.

[504py]

A day in a life with Ivan. [ONESHOT]

Warnings below the cut 。。。

⚠️ NSFW, yandere content, alcoholism, reader got tradwifed, stockholm syndrome, domestic violence, Ivan is very blatantly sadistic, size difference, dacryphilia, vague breeding kink, no use of Y/N, forced feminization(?), gender neutral reader.

hey yawll!! i drew this since i wanted to play more with the painting style and color palette i did in my last post, but since i hit 800 followers recently, i decided to write something to go along with it too!

thank you guys so so much for putting up with my bs and enjoying the slop i create LOL. hopefully this will be enough to thank you all and to satiate you guys till i come back from hibernation again 🩵🙏

also!! while this is a gender neutral reader, ivan still refers to you as a housewife. this is pretty much an extension of the headcanon post i did on him.

MAN I NEED TO RECONNECT WITH NATURE AFTER THIS 😭😭😭

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The average heart rate of a rabbit is a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Much, much faster than a human's at only a hundred, the little hearts of rabbits pump virile blood into their vulnerable bodies in order to outrun the cursed life of a prey animal they have no choice but to live.

Living with Ivan feels the exact same way. You, a human, were reduced to nothing but a prey animal whose only line of defense was either freeze or flight. Ivan prefers the freeze response. Tries to squeeze it out of you as much as he can.

The morning begins normally. You wake up next to his large, minimally clothed body, while you're bundled up as much as physically possible. You don't understand how he's so comfortable in the cold, but you've learned not to liken him to humans. You gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. It takes a while for Ivan to wake up, he's a heavy sleeper, but when his violet eyes finally open and dilate at the sight of you, the first thing he does is smile and pull you in to trap you in a strong bear hug. Don't struggle, he'll just tighten his grip. Then he kisses your cheek, and just holds you there without saying anything. He'll grumble a little when you tell him you have to leave bed to make breakfast, but he eventually will let you go.

It's a little sick how your current living situation makes chores the best part of your day, given how it allows the most proximity between you and Ivan. Cooking in the early morning is your favorite, since it takes Ivan a long time to recover from his hibernation. Thinking about what to cook is a bit of a meditative process as well, allows you to think thoroughly about anything other than your way of life and the man keeping you here.

Today, you decided to make something simple and similar to something you ate growing up. Luckily, Ivan is not a picky eater, even though he rather obviously prefers Slavic food. He'll eat whatever you make happily, but he'll be in even better spirits if you make something familiar to him.

You do not cook in silence. Silence has quickly become one of your biggest pet peeves since your captivity, and you do anything to drown it out. This damn empty mansion, the way Ivan is so terrible with his words and chooses instead to crush you with his actions, the bleak snowy landscape that greets you if you dare try and find any solace outside of this cage and your captor– It's enough to drive anyone insane. So, you pass the days by drowning out your thoughts with music and movies.

Ivan doesn't allow you a cellphone, or anything remotely modern at all. His home has a terrifying dedication to being so analog, you'd think you'd been transported to the 90's if not for the TV with a few streaming services on it, the only modern piece of technology he allows. He likes to collect cameras, radios, and old phones. Ivan's menagerie of antique goods is so expansive that it earned itself its own room. It's almost like a small museum, and you're very glad he allows you to look at and touch them as you pleased– with care, of course. He can actually be rather charming when he acts as your "museum guide" in this room. One of the few times you find yourself thinking anything remotely positive about him.

Ivan's voice is soft, it always is, but when he talks about these things he's so passionate about and so engrossed in, it takes on a bit more of a stern, confident tone that is easier for you to listen to. And when he's looking at the objects he's explaining, you can admire his side profile more openly. He's caught you multiple times (he has surprisingly sharp senses), and you're met with a flustered smile instead of the usual so-sweet-to-the-point-it-looks-fake type of smile.

"What are you looking at?" He'd ask, his voice quieting back down to that syrupy tone.

"Just you." You'd reply, which makes him pause in surprise for a second, before it earns a soft giggle from the towering man.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Vanya." The nickname makes him melt. "You just looked pretty."

The smile falls from his face, and his cheeks redden even more than you thought possible, before his grin returns tenfold. He laughs and looks away.

The memory of such interactions make you feel like buttering up to the man instead of rejecting him so much, then you realize you're just describing stockholm syndrome. As crazy as it is, it feels like, at this point, it'd be better to let it happen than to be aware and hateful every day you live here.

As if your thoughts had alerted him, you hear Ivan's deceptively soft footsteps descend the stairs. He doesn't say anything, and just makes his way to the kitchen to watch you.

He's dressed in more clothing now, a dark blue sweater and gray sweatpants. His neck is left bare around you. When you first met him, his clothing that purposefully covers his neck always went unnoticed by you, because such clothes fit him so well, like they were always meant to be there. It was only after your capture, when he took off his scarf and you saw the bandages around his pale neck did you start to question it.

You've never outright asked him, you worry the subject is too volatile. He just... decided to stop hiding it one day. It was after a shower when you first saw it, the ligature marks around his neck and a few faded pink scars on the front of his adam's apple. Ivan noticed you staring, and you've never seen him look so small and insecure before.

"Is it bad?"

"No." You shake your head. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

And that was that.

You finish plating up two dishes, one with a significantly heftier portion than yours considering how much he eats. You quickly place the chopping board and all the pans you used in the sink to wash later, and you bring the dishes to the table.

Ivan yawns, rubs at his eyes, and without much event, just picks up a knife and a fork and starts eating. You do the same only after fetching some tea from the samovar.

Breakfast is always quiet besides the background noise of whatever media you chose to play.

"Mm. Ёжик в тумaне?"

"Yeah. I like this one."

"A little somber, isn't it?"

"The hedgehog is cute. I relate to it a little bit."

Ivan takes his eyes off of the television to look at you, and ponders what you said a little more. He doesn't say anything, and continues eating.

"What will you be doing today?" You ask, in case you needed to iron some clothing or prepare extra food for guests.

He hums in thought for a moment. "I'll be going out in the evening to drink with the other nations."

"What will you be wearing?"

"What I usually do."

You nod, "I'll have it ready soon."

"What about you?" He asks.

"Hmm... I'll wash the dishes, then iron and press your clothing. After that, I'll think of what to cook for lunch while cleaning the house, and I'll prepare a meal for you before you leave. Then while you're away, I'll clean up some more and prepare dinner. And if I have some time, I'll sit and watch some more movies."

Ivan hums in satisfaction. He enjoys how strict to routine your lives were. Familiarity and stability are what he desires most, and he believes you're the only one who can grant him that wish.

"Perfect." He smiles, petting the crown of your head with a large, broad hand.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You adjust the dusty pink scarf around his thick neck after finishing wrapping the scars on his throat with bandages. You do it neatly and comfortably, as opposed to how Ivan does, quickly and efficiently, learned from decades of routine, yet it's still so much more uncomfortable compared to when you do it.

"How is it?" You ask. Ivan replies by taking your smaller hands in his and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You do it perfectly, любовь моя." He sighs, before pouting slightly. "I wish I could just stay home."

"You'll be alright, Vanya. Alcohol is like water to you anyways."

He snickers and rolls his eyes. "That just means it'll be boring for me, then."

"Just try to have fun and relax. I'll be safe and quiet here."

A mousy smile appears on his pink lips. You've said exactly what he wants to hear. "Alright. I'll just get it over with." He presses one last kiss to the top of your hair before leaving.

"Don't cause any trouble!" Ivan sings, before exiting the living room and closing the door behind him. You get a glimpse of the blindingly white outside world, and a gust of stinging cold air brushes against your skin like a warning.

You let out a taut breath, finally feeling like you're able to breathe without his crushing presence. You dust off your hands, from nothing in particular, before going off to do just as you said to him earlier. It bothers you how much he still affects you without even being around.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky is dark, and all that is heard is the droning of soft music and the burbling of something boiling on the stove. Its tranquility is broken by the door opening with more aggression than usual.

"Vanya?" You call out, hoping the sweet usage of his nickname would quell whatever spawned this roughness within him.

All you hear is something vaguely resembling a groan and a sigh, and his heavy, thudding footsteps. Your heart starts to race a little.

"Is something wrong, Vanya?" You ask meekly, approaching him with caution. He reeks of alcohol, and his movements seem all sluggish. Jesus, how much did Russia of all people need to drink in order to get this wasted?

"I'm alright." He huffs, taking off his gloves and his coat with slight difficulty. You step in closer to help him undress, taking off his scarf. You don't miss how he tenses up, so you freeze and meet his constantly intense stare to gauge his expression. His eyelids are low, pupils contracted, eyes darker than usual, and cheeks flushed like they always are. He seems to be pouting a bit. He doesn't do much else, so you continue, stripping him of his large overcoat. All he's left in now is a black sweater and thick brown slacks.

"I've made dinner. You can just sit wherever you want and I'll bring it to you–"

Ivan leans in so quickly, you couldn't even register it in order to dodge or deflect his kiss in time. This time, it lands on your lips. He doesn't do this usually at all, unless he was planning something. The blood drains from your face when his large hand finds the back of your neck, and holds it stiff, preventing any chance of backing out.

His skin and the inside of his mouth are impossibly warm, and the bitter, sterile taste of vodka is the only damn thing invading your senses. You grip the fabric of his knitted sweater, it makes him part from your lips to pant like a dog and take said piece of clothing off, now left in a dark gray shirt.

"V-Va– You taste like alcohol–"

"Get drunk off of me." He whispers, before grabbing the sides of your arms and kissing you tongue first, lapping at your lips, and at this point, you learned better than to deny him. With all the mental fortitude you could muster, you rigidly part your lips. Despite all your efforts to be as pliant as possible to try and guarantee your safety, you can't help the shiver of revulsion when his tongue invades your mouth like a parasite and rubs against yours.

It feels like time slows down, you can feel the milliseconds before your instincts kick in, and each millisecond feels like a year of dread. Unable to stop raw instinct, you bite down.

Your heart stops when you hear him grunt, and feel his grip around your arms tighten before he shoves you away. He gasps, cursing under his breath in his mother tongue before setting his sights back on you.

Doe-eyed and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, you begin to plead.

"N-No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Vanya, please–"

He approaches, kicks the back of your knees, before you are grabbed by the scruff of your shirt. The collar of your blouse is yanked back and presses the fabric tightly against your throat as he drags you to the front door. You're coughing and struggling to regain your footing, and the moment you can breathe, you beg.

"Please! Nonono– Vanya please don't do this I'll be good–" The words tumble out like unorganized clutter using the one short breath you were able to catch.

With one more harsh tug, you fall to your knees again, and the door opens. The sight of the snow immediately triggers something within you, and you begin sobbing.

Ivan takes a peak at you, seemingly taking pity.

"Only for a few minutes."

You shake your head in a frenzy, not believing a word he says. Even if he was saying the truth, you'd much rather continue to humiliate yourself over being outside for even a few seconds. What if he forgets about you? What if that door never opens again? What if you die a miserable death, separated from your survival by just a few inches of wood?

That's why, the moment he throws you out, you scramble to your feet and shove that damned door open before he can fully close it. You know you're in deeper shit when you hear the door slam against him, and the deep yelp that follows it. You run for your life into the confines of his house.

You quickly make way to one of the bathrooms, the only rooms in the house you're still able to lock from the inside. You knew even that meant nothing, since you're sure Ivan could and would break them down without a second thought. Yet, it was still your best shot.

You lock the bathroom door and sit on the flooring right next to it. You try to calm down your heartrate and your heaving so you could try and listen in on whatever was going on outside this room.

Eerie silence is what greets you. You hate it, hate it so much. Shuddering, you hold your breath and strain your ears just a little more.

And that's when you hear it.

Soft footsteps.

You have to bite back a scream from how much raw fear that little sound sends shooting through your nervous system. Makes your skin crawl so bad that it almost hurts.

Ivan's clearly not in any rush, but FUCK did you wish he'd just get it over with and sprint right at you. You're sure he knows where you are, he just likes to freak you out, you can tell. That sweet smile he always puts on is nothing short of sadistic, constantly has this look in his eyes, some kinda weird sparkle that tells you he enjoys watching you struggle beneath him. Knowing you'll be face to face with those very eyes shortly makes your ribs squeeze around your quaking lungs and heart.

The footsteps approach. You brace yourself for a rough kick to the door or a pipe slamming through it.

Instead, he knocks. This was wrong, what was happening? Oh, god, this was so much worse.

"I won't ask again."

Scrambling to the door, not even sparing any time to actually stand up, you open it. You wince when you strain your neck to look up and see the damage done to him by your outburst. A nasty, bloody bruise on the bridge of his tall nose and that same crimson liquid streaming down his nostril. Your chest shakes like a dying sparrow's.

"I-I'm sorry. Please."

And he smiles.

Ivan is actually, genuinely, extremely pleased right now. He's wanted this all along, for you to fear the outside world so much you'd do anything in the world to stay here, right by his side. He doesn't give a single shit about the injuries you've caused him now and in the past, he's strong, he can take it, and he'll always forgive you over and over again. Of course, it makes him annoyed, because what good housewife would beat their husband like that? But he understands that your circumstances aren't exactly normal, so he'll endure it with irritation. At the rate he's breaking you in, though, you'll soon be as pliant and obedient as he expects you to be. Perhaps you'll even start to love him back. Just the thought of it raises goosebumps on his porcelain skin and makes his hands tremble in excitement.

You don't understand why he's giggling right now.

He sighs your name, and crouches down to meet your stare. You flinch as a droplet of blood hits the tiles. Ivan's grin only widens when your shaking hands reach for his face and try to wipe the blood away.

"O-Oh, Ivan," You whine uselessly, getting up on boneless legs to grab the first-aid kit. He watches with bright, amused eyes. He knows you won't try anything anymore. He's confident in your compliance to him.

As carefully as you can, you wipe off the blood with paper towels, crying harder when it smears instead of going away completely like you'd hoped. It felt like your mistakes were going to be impossible to fix.

Ivan's cheery gaze never falters. Maybe this is the happiest you've ever seen him, despite the blood streaming into the gaps of his teeth and forming a grotesque image. Dusty eyelashes frame his smiley crescent moon eyes, cheeks ruddy as little alcohol-stained puffs of air pollute the cold atmosphere. You jolt when he chuckles throatily.

"What's wrong?" His voice is as sickly sweet as it always is.

"Y-You're mad– I made you mad. I'm sorry." You choke on your own words, trying your best not to drop the bottle of disinfectant in your weak hand.

"What did you do?"

"I–" You hiccup, "I d-didn't– I didn't listen to you. I wasn't good."

Unable to hide his pleasure, he laughs and leans in to give you a chaste, bloody kiss.

"It will be okay. I love you."

You're glad your crying masks the gag reflex that almost makes itself apparent when you know what you have to say next. You steel your nerves and dryly swallow the taste of Ivan's blood.

"I love– I love you too."

He gives you a pleased, closed-mouth smile, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking the bottle of disinfectant from you. He begins to tend to his own wounds.

"This does not mean I forgive you, though."

Just as you felt your whole world crashing down around you, Ivan saves you.

He breathes out a laugh, "No, I won't throw you outside again. It's much better staying inside with me, yes?"

You nod in a frenzy. "Yes! Y-Yes, much better. Please don't."

"Well," Ivan prefaces, disinfecting the cut on his nose before placing a bandaid on it. He turns his head to the side and spits out the blood left in his mouth. "You will have to tend to this wound. Kiss it better." And before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his tongue lolls out, brandishing the red bite mark from earlier.

Disgust registers for only a second.

Like an automaton made solely to serve, you lean forward, grasp onto his biceps, and press a needy, desperate kiss to his drooling tongue. He laughs while you lap at his tongue like a wounded dog, warm, alcoholic breaths brushing against your face.

After relishing in the feeling of your worship for a little longer, he gently pushes you to the ground and crawls over your jittery body, placing a hand against the small of your back to hold you up and closer to him, with the other gripping the outside of your thigh.

"You will not bite me this time?"

Nodding fearfully, praying the conviction in your eyes will be enough to warrant his forgiveness, you wrap your arms around his neck.

Sighing happily, he presses his cold lips against yours, taking the lead happily as he moans into the kiss. The sound was more out of the satisfaction of establishing his dominance rather than the actual physical pleasure.

Ivan doesn't usually indulge in sexual fantasies or acts, which surprises you considering how touchy the man is. His mind usually favors daydreams of a stable, domestic life with you. Ivan prioritizes establishing your relationship over anything else, so he doesn't really find the time to lull over menial things like sex. Marriage is one thing, but your total submission is another.

Then again, this doesn't mean that he fully doesn't have any carnal desires when it comes to you. It's you, for christ's sake. When his fantasies of dominance come into play, it seems only obvious that sometimes his thoughts wander into the bedroom.

Ivan fantasizes a lot about having you desire him as much as he does you. He wants you to need him like air. Wants to have you mewling his name and clinging to him like your life depended on it, which would quite literally be the case right now. Wants to see your pretty, pretty tears reserved only for him. Wants to see you fall apart in his arms over and over again while comforting you so meanly and kissing your crying face.

Ivan tries his best to not let these thoughts make themselves apparent, but fuck, do you make it so hard sometimes. How could any man not be affected by the sight of their adorable little housewife in an apron? Takes so much for him to not just grab you by your hair and bend you over the counter. Whenever you cry for whatever reason, he almost feels guilty over how instantly horny it makes him. Almost feels guilty when all he can think about is licking those tears off of your face and making himself the cause of them. God, he wants to play the role of a nice doting husband so bad, but he can't help but feel you up and breathe down your neck when you try on the dresses and lingerie he buys for you. He can't help grabbing your waist and pressing his erection against your ass– not on purpose, he just wanted to be close to you.

While aggressive in his approach, Ivan never forces any sexual acts that you refuse. Even if he's left high and breathing heavy, he still wants to be someone you don't completely hate. Be a good husband, be a good husband. He always chants to himself. All his prayers proved fruitful when he quite literally cried tears of joy during your first time together.

Ivan doesn't know what was different that day, he didn't expect anything, just to make out and have you reject him after a bit, but you just... kept going, until he was ramming into you, hands tight around your sweaty waist and fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight. He's never seen himself like this, moaning and gasping like a girl and feeling so fucking good that all that he wanted– all that he could think of was breeding you like a bull and how beautiful your family would be. God, the memory of you struggling, doing your best to take his thick cock and crying so cutely just trying to bottom out is engraved into the grooves of his brain. It makes his stomach feel all warm whenever he thinks of it. He wants to carve it under his eyelids so he can see it every time he blinks.

Ivan laughs a lot during sex, call him creepy, it's genuinely because he is just so damn happy that he can't hide it. Why should he hide it from you? He wants to show you just how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. You make him feel so damn happy and complete that all he could do was chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou– while whimpering, giggling, his tears dripping onto your face.

Maybe he'll get lucky again.

Without parting, Ivan carefully lowers your back to the tiled floor, straddling your body and snaking his long fingers under your blouse, resting them against your heated abdomen. He smiles into the kiss when you jolt away, tickled by how frigid they are.

The ends of his feathered gray hair tickles your wet face, your body shivering at all the different sensations attacking you simultaneously. The cold tiles, his freezing hands, his hot tongue, the faint taste of blood, the warm drool seeping out the side of your mouth, his arid breathing, the smell of alcohol–

Your hands, still by the back of his neck, reach up to ever-so-slightly tug at his hair to signal you needed a breather. Ivan makes a small noise of surprise, before pulling away.

He looks absolutely dazed, lips shiny with remnants of a spit trail, and lavender eyes heavy and glazed over with a feral lust. His breathing is labored, muscular chest rising and falling as he intently watches every minute expression your face makes. Despite the blatant lack of nudity, this might be the most erotic sight you've ever seen. Fuck, why does he have to look so good when you're supposed to hate him?

Right now, you were so exhausted you couldn't even remember what reason you'd have to hate him, despite there being enough that you could spend the rest of your life listing all of them down.

And just when you try to refuse by backing up, your thigh brushes against his boner and he lets out the most heated, breathy, shivery moan you've ever heard. The vocalization sounded like it was tailor-made to tantalize you, to tempt you into biting the fruit. And you know what? You were a sinner anyways.

"Bed– B-Bedroom."

A toothy grin appears on Ivan's face, and he exhales a breathy laugh. He looks absolutely delighted, and starved.

Without a second thought, he picks you up, and carries you to the closest one.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The next morning begins normally. Your body is sore, and covered in bite marks. That was one of the best sleeps you've had in recent memory. Ivan seems to think so, too, with his arms cradling your torso and a hand resting over your lower abdomen. The ache reminds you about what happened yesterday, you can still feel him in there somehow.

You woke up a little later in the morning compared to usual. Since you're still a little too exhausted to get up and begin cooking, you lay there for a while, listening to the quiet howling of the wind outside. You wonder when was the last time you heard any birds chirping.

Thinking of the outside world brings you a bit of dread, don't really like doing it. But when your life is so isolated and so alone, misery can become a form of entertainment.

The more and more days go by, the more and more do you forget what your life was like before meeting the Russian. The longer you live with Ivan, the more does it feel that he was just always there, and that your life before meeting him was a falsified memory. You're not even sure how much time has passed since, it's always snowing outside, every day feels the same.

That's the one thing you remember from before this life, the feeling of warmth. You're not sure you remember the feeling of it, really, but you're well aware of the absence it leaves behind. Maybe when spring finally comes around, you can open that door, and...

Eyebrows furrowing as a migraine starts to set in, you shake your head weakly. You didn't like thinking about the outside.

Turning over to face Ivan, you gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. He eventually stirs from his sleep, hugs you, and you do not struggle.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

Hi! I'm new to your account, but just binged your "I bet on losing dogs" storyline, and I had a question and concept for you? How much is the reader free to interpret? I'm a theater kid, so I like her hobbies. But is there any specific physical traits you're writing for her? I know you mentioned that we were/are chubby, which is cool, but do you imagine any certain features? Because I'm Mexican American with certain features, so I was curious if you had a certain ethnicity set for her besides being half White/Jewish from Bruce being her biological father.

I also had the same question about Tiffany, because I'm currently imagining the Stereotypical All American girl. Kinda got that Disney Channel actress vibe to her. (Physically). I also had this really messed up though of the reader having to spend YEARS trying to keep in touch her mother's culture and such, learning dishes, traditions, going to local festivals by herself, having to learn how to do makeup and hair styles/products that fit her face and hair pattern. No one bothered to help or teach her. But than, suddenly Tiffany starts to steal those "habits", uncaring if they were very personal to the reader. Than everyone in the family suddenly starts to like the Reader's culture and such. (I had this scene in my brain where the Reader walks in on Tiffany is bragging about some music or dish "she" tried out from the Reader's culture, while the family are all happy and curious about it. Even when the Reader tried to introduce it to the family, everyone declined even trying it.)

I see the Reader so "Your Best American Girl" coded by Mitski.

Anyway I just wanted to ramble, bye!

ok so, I'm trying to be as vague as possible bc reader is supposed to be whoever is reading so there's no in depth description or specific height or build (except chubby in the prologue). i feel like i've basically made reader an OC which i hate but personally when I'm reading a fic, I just ignore things if I don't like them or they don't apply to me which is what i suggest yall do!!

the reader's mother is Palestinian/ Venezualan, like my own mom but you can change it if you'd like. it's important to mention that reader does have Bruce's jaw structure and face shape and shares facial features with Damian as well. It's small things like the ears, the roman nose, even the eye shape, point is that every time reader looks in the mirror she can see shadows of Bruce and Damian on her face. it's kinda like the vibe of "like him" by tyler the creator. I'm middle eastern and hispanic so I imagine reader with darker feautures like tan skin, thick brown hair, arched brows and long lashes but it's all up to you!

reader is very confused because while her dad is white, she isn't. she did try to bond with Damian and learn Arabic with him but he shamed her for not knowing and kicked her out his room, literally. she used to be embarrassed of her heritage when she was younger (courtsey of Tiffany calling her a mutt) but as she got older she realized how interesting her culture is.

she wants to learn arabic but has no teachers and it's a pretty hard language to learn if you don't grow up speaking it .she has no sources to help her and most of the time culture and traditions are things you grow up with and are passed down to you from family. her mom used to speak to her in arabic and feed her dates and sandwiches with olive oil and sugar and make her fried plantians so those things are very special to her, they're some of the only details she remembers about her late mother. so yeah reader is very "Your best american girl coded"

You're so on point about Tiffany, she's your classic all American girl. Blonde hair, blue eyes, long tanned legs and a set of pearly whites. she's the kind of white girl to act like she cares about other races but is secretly racist. you know what girls im talking about! and that prompt you sent with the food eats so hard, I have a scene mapped out with that in the upcoming chapters. I rambled too girl!!! you really got me thinking tbh but let me stop and actually write the next chapter.

[bucks-babe]

hi!! i’ve had this concept in my head for a while and i love your writing style so i thought you would be perfect to ask. so reader is new to the compound, like helping out in the lab but not necessarily on the team, and because of that when she tries forming relationships with people on the team she’s kind of pushed to the side. bucky sees this and feels for her since he was kind of treated the same when he was new, so he starts becoming friends with her and building a relationship with her. then he starts involving her in things the team does like dinners or movie nights. and when they’re around each other the team can obviously see that they like each other as more than friends. you can develop it more from there but that’s kind of the base line for my idea!!

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Being new to the compound isn’t easy, luckily you have a supersoldier on your side

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, reader wears glasses (no other description of reader though), Bucky thinks reader is cute, Tony is kind of a huge dick, vague implications of smut but no smut (blink and you’ll miss it), I suck at endings, they are in love, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.780k

“Hey, uh, Glasses, I need you to run these samples for me.” You look up and see Tony walking into the lab, straight to your table. You look around, not sure if he was talking to you, but you’re alone in the lab, given that it was almost midnight, but you had to finish the reports from the samples that Steve dropped off in the morning.

You were swamped in work, not even taking a lunch break, desperate to finish everything so that you could go back to your room in the compound and take a shower. It felt like you’ve been stuck in the lab for days on end. The Avengers having back to back missions and you being the only lab tech without a family to go home to, you were stuck working insane hours.

“Mr. Stark, can these wait until the morning? I'm still working on the reports from Captain Rogers.” Tony heaves a great sigh, clearly exasperated by your reluctance to do his work, knowing damn well he can run these samples a lot quicker with the help of F.R.I.D.A.Y. but he just doesn’t want to. Might as well make the overworked lab tech do it.

“The old man can wait until tomorrow for his report, just get mine done. If he has a problem, he can take it up with me. Goodnight, Penny.” And just like that, he walks off. You know for sure that he didn’t hear you correct him when he got your name wrong. Honestly, where did he even get Penny from? You’re so stressed you feel like you could cry, which pisses you off more. It made you feel weak when you would cry when you were frustrated but you couldn’t help it.

It's been like this since you got the job at the compound. At first you thought that this would be an amazing opportunity, getting to work side by side with the Avengers. In reality, you stay cooped up in the lab most of the day, getting overworked, and only see the Avengers when they stop by to give you more work. 

Of course, you understand that being a superhero is hard work, but a little courtesy goes a long way. It would be a nice change of pace if someone acknowledged your efforts. You push Steve’s reports to the side and start working on Tony’s samples, knowing that this is going to take all night, but you don’t really have a choice. It needs to be done and you’re the only one in the lab.

The sound of the door opening jolts you awake, a piece of paper stuck to your face with drool. “Hey, do you have those reports for me?” You groan and look at Steve. The clock on the wall reads 6:03 AM, ever the early riser, Steve is. You must have fallen asleep sometime last night trying to finish the work Tony gave you, which is just as incomplete as Steve’s reports.

“Sorry, Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark gave me an urgent request that needed priority.” You keep your head down, ashamed to look at him. 

“I gave you those samples in the morning. How are the reports not done?” He has his hands on his hips with the disappointed father's look on his face, making you feel even worse. You really are trying your best, but you’re burnt out and can't do everything at once.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have them done by early afternoon. I can drop them off if you’d like?” God, you feel so stupid! Steve just waves you off with a “I’ll come back after lunch for them” and leaves you to your own thoughts.

You get Steve’s reports done before lunch and continue to work on finishing Tony’s when the lab doors open again. Without looking up you slide Steve’s reports to him. “They’re done Captain Rogers.” 

“It’s not Steve.” You push your glasses up on your nose and see Bucky standing before your table, quite awkwardly as well, shuffling on his feet with his right hand in his pocket, left hanging down limply at his side.

“Sergeant Barnes, how can I help you?” You’ve always had a crush on Bucky, but he was the only Avenger who hasn’t come into your lab - ever. Matter of fact, he avoids the lab like the plague, which is understandable given that he was experimented on for years. 

“It’s my arm, I can’t move it.” After a few seconds of silence he adds on, “The metal one. Usually, I can recalibrate it myself but I think it has something to do with the plates.” He looks so vulnerable; Bucky’s not used to asking for help, rather always helping someone else.

“I can take a look at it if you want.” You assume that’s why he came down to the lab, not just to chit chat with you. He nods and you lead him to a lab chair. “Can you take your shirt off for me?” Bucky’s eyebrows hit his hairline and his jaw drops. “I need to see your arm, Sergeant.” Now both of you are blushing.

It takes him a little while but he gets his shirt off and stares at the floor, embarrassed of the scars surrounding his arm. “Can I touch your arm, Sergeant?” Bucky eyes widen; he’s not used to someone asking permission to touch his arm. If he doesn’t wear his gloves in public, people will stare and point, some even trying to touch his hand to get a better look at the silver arm. Bucky hates it: the arm, the stares, the scars, everything.

He mumbles a confirmation and watches you work on his arm. He thinks you’re cute, with glasses that make your eyes look slightly magnified and how you stick your tongue out when you concentrate. You’ve always hated your glasses, thinking that they make you look bug eyed, but Bucky thinks that it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. There are bags under your eyes, which makes Bucky frown. Stark is overworking you.

After a few minutes you look up and see Bucky staring at you and you both quickly look away. “One of the plates near your shoulder came loose and disrupted the signal to the rest of the arm. That’s why you couldn’t move it. It’s fixed now and you should be good to go, Sergeant.”

 Before Bucky could say anything, Tony enters. “Penn, those reports done yet or are you too busy with Terminator over there?” You ignore Bucky’s confused who’s Penn? and give Tony the finished half of his reports, hoping against hope that he won’t tear you a new one in front of Bucky.

“Uh, Glasses, where is the other half?” 

“I didn’t get to them all last night and then Captain Rogers needed his reports this morning. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.” Not only did you not finish Tony’s reports on time, but you were also late with Steve’s, on top of getting minimal sleep and not eating. The humiliation is seeping through your pores. You’re letting your idols down in real time, seeing their disappointment right in front of you.

“I told you to prioritize my samples, not Rogers.” Bucky is still in his chair, watching, ready to jump to your defense. He doesn’t like the way Tony is talking to you. Little do you know, but Bucky sometimes comes down to the lab to watch you work, never entering, God no. He’d look like a creep. But the sweet lab tech caught his attention the moment you arrived.

“I know, but I fell behind and Captain Rogers said-”

“I don’t care what Rogers said. I told you-” 

“Back off Stark, if you want them done, do it yourself.” Bucky was pissed; you are too sweet for your own good, letting people boss you around and bending over backwards for them. Not when Bucky is around.

Before Tony can continue to argue with Bucky, F.R.I.D.A.Y. calls him away for a meeting, leaving you and Bucky in the lab alone. “Sergeant Barnes, you didn’t have to do that. Those reports should have been done anyway; it was my fault.” How pathetic is it to have someone you hardly know see your faults.

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, doll. You’re only one person and you're doing your best.” He’s a lot closer to you now and you can smell his cologne, making your head feel all fuzzy. “Thank you for helping me with my arm, too.”

“Thank you for letting me, Sergeant, I know that was difficult for you.” You’re looking up at him through your thick frames, eyes larger than they actually are, bags under your eyes, but Bucky thinks you’ve never been prettier. Or maybe it’s because he’s never seen you up close, but you are the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, 40’s or not.

“Call me Bucky.”

After that, Bucky was in the lab almost everyday. For a while he would claim to have some strange ailment until you told him that he didn’t have to feign injury to visit, which made him blush. He would spend his lunch in the lab, making sure that you were eating, too. Bucky is a very observant man, and on his trips to the lab, before he first talked to you, he would see how overworked you were and how you barely ate. 

He made it his mission to keep you well fed and get you out of the lab at a decent hour, giving a death glare to agents trying to drop off samples after a certain hour. 

Outside of the lab, Bucky was your only friend at the compound; although, he’s never hand fed Steve in bed while watching old movies. Bucky felt comfortable around you, even more so than with Steve. Bucky and you had a special bond - he would confide in you when you would both be awake at the unholy hours of night and you would do the same. He trusted you not to tell anyone else and, to him, it was easier to talk to you than Steve.

Steve had a tendency to look at Bucky as if he was a sick puppy, and Bucky hated that, he hated the pity. He didn’t want to be treated like precious glass, and you allowed him to be vulnerable without making him feel like he was falling apart.

Some nights you both would fall asleep in bed together and wake up entangled, those nights were Bucky’s favorites. You were so soft and even though you were so much smaller than him, you made him feel safe and protected. His sweet doll in his bed, keeping the nightmares away. 

He loved the way you would squint and search for your glasses on the stand next to the bed, whining when you accidentally knocked them to the floor, or stabbed yourself in the eye trying to put them on. 

The entire dynamic of your friendship changed one night. Bucky doesn’t know who moved first, but the two of you kissed, and Bucky can’t remember kisses ever being so good. The two of you only kissed that night, nothing further, but it was the best night that either of you had in a long while. From that day on, he was your old man and you were his old lady.

You both decided to keep your relationship a secret for the time being. You didn’t want the other lab techs to think you were getting special treatment and Bucky didn’t want to deal with the teasing from Sam or the questions from Steve. But Bucky loathed when he would be forced by Steve to join movie nights, alone, without you. Steve wanted what was best for his friend so he would force Bucky to get out more; little did Steve know that Bucky had the best girl waiting for him to come over.

He could tell that you were let down whenever he had to participate in “team bonding.” You wanted to be valued by the team, yet you understood why they never invited you; you weren’t an Avenger, just a lowly lab tech. Nonetheless, it broke Bucky’s heart to see you so despondent, which is why he asked you to join the next movie night, team be damned.

“Come on, doll, it will be fun. I promise.” Bucky holds you close to his chest, laying down next to you under the covers. You roll over, naked chest to naked chest, body still shaking, and bury your face in his neck, breathing him in.

“I’m not even a part of the team, Jamie. What will all your teammates think, huh? The great Bucky Barnes and the weird lab tech: A perfect match. No, they won’t.” Bucky gently grabs both sides of your face, both metal and flesh warm from previous activities, and makes you look him in the eye. 

He’s a little blurry since you aren’t wearing your glasses. The lenses would smush against your face everytime he would kiss you with anything more than a chaste kiss, and Bucky Barnes is a passionate kisser in bed. At your slight squint, he pulled you closer to his face so you could see him clearly; blue eyes holding nothing but the utmost love and devotion.

“I don’t give a damn what the team thinks, you hear me? You are my doll and I want to show you off. My sweet little lab tech who’s too kind for her own good. Let them all know how perfect you are.” Your resolve is crumbling like it does every time he looks at you. It is an overwhelming feeling, being the light of someone’s life, being showered with so much love you feel like you can’t breathe, but each breath fills up your lungs with joy and hope.

Bucky nuzzles his nose against yours and you both know you’ll say yes. You’d follow him to the ends of the earth, just as he would for you. “Okay, Jamie, I will, for you.”

Movie night is a week later and you’re on Bucky’s lap where he sits on the recliner. It’s his unofficial seat whenever Steve forces him to these things, stuck in the corner of the room away from everyone else with no seat next to him. At first, no one notices you on Bucky’s lap, curled up into him with tangled limbs not able to tell where Bucky begins and you end. 

Steve is the first to notice, doing a double take at the extra bulk in Bucky’s seat, and just as Bucky is observant, so is Steve. Steve had a suspicion that there was something more to Bucky’s disappearances during lunch and the extra food he would take after dinner. Steve just smiles to himself and faces the movie once more, every so often glancing back at the two lovebirds in their own world.

Bucky has no clue what movie they are watching, his sole focus is on you. You had a long day in the lab, yet you held true to your word to join movie night with him, but being curled up in Bucky’s arms was your favorite place to be and before long you were sound asleep, holding onto his metal arm, using it as a pillow. As gently as he could, Bucky took off your glasses and put them atop his head, falling asleep himself before the movie was halfway over.

Sam was the second to notice, and let the rest of the team know as well. “OH. MY. GOD. Tony, where is my phone? I can’t believe this.” The rest of the team look at each other in confusion, following Sam’s line of sight, they see you wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, the both of you sound asleep. 

“Is that…Glasses?” Comes from Tony.

“She’s so cute!” Slips from Wanda.

“Who’s Glasses?” is followed by a slap from Nat with a hissed “Thor, shut up, they’re sleeping!”

“Tony, my phone! I need evidence.”

“Terminator’s getting laid?”

“We’re watching Indiana Jones, Stark.” 

“Thor, inside voice, we’ve talked about this.”

The teasing from the team is endless the next day, but Bucky doesn’t have it in him to care, he has his sweetheart by his side and they know better than to provoke Bucky. Coincidentally, Tony offers to take some of his samples back to test them himself; Bucky insists that he must have had a change of heart, you don’t believe it for one second, but Bucky will never admit to anything. After all, he has to take care of his sweet girl. 

[defuckingthrone-dot-com]

A Dirty Wedding Affair 🌴🌅

Summary: Just a quick little blurb about having a One Night Stand with Noah 

Pairing: Noah x Reader

TW: Sex p in v, oral sex.

A/N: Ever since i saw this picture i thought of this scenario. I talked to @concretejunglefm about it she actually contributed to some of the ideas here. also, title by her! Any way enjoy! xx.

Divider by @bernardsbendystraws

I really don't know how I got involved in this situation, I was always careful with things like this. Actually when I think about it, it wasn't really my style to do this type of thing. But here I was hiding behind a damn palm tree decoration on a small reception of this Hotel. I was trying to not get noticed by the guy whose bed I left this morning before he actually woke up. The walk of shame back to my room felt a little too real, and I guess I wasn't hiding hard enough because from the corner of my eyes I saw him walk up with a big smirk on his face.

“Are you really trying to hide behind that flimsy excuse of a palm tree?” he asked with a little bit of laughter in his tone.

“Who me? No, No why would i??” i said a bit too rushed

“Maybe because you sneaked out this morning” I wasn't expecting for him to call me out like that but he was right, i felt embarrassed and i didnt want him to see me. 

“yeah um i'm sorry?” i didn't know if apologizing would make the situation better but i tried anyway, 

His gaze lingered a little too long before he left a subtle laugh “Yeah it's good I ran into you, you forgot this Pixie..���i didn't have time to dwell on the fact he called me Pixie just like he moaned last nice with a few other choice of words because he was already pulling out the same lace pair of panties i was wearing  when i entered his room last night from his front pocket.. “Didn't want you to lose them so I kept them safe.” 

All the blood in me crept onto my cheeks and I can confidently say that I wasn't blushing anymore, I was bleeding red. I realized what was happening and in one quick move I snatched the panties from his hand. 

You're probably wondering how I got here? Well, I'll have to relieve the last 72 hrs for you to understand, so here i go!

It all started when I arrived here, this wasn't a vacation per say but I did plan on having the most fun I could before I had to go back to boring reality back home. My best friend from childhood was getting married this weekend. She had chosen to get married at the beach, which was great for me. I loved the tropical weather and I could enjoy a bit more tanning. 

The first time I saw him I was laid in a lounge chair by the pool. I was grabbing the the book i was reading in one hand and a glass of lemonade on the other, i saw walk in front of me and walk around the edge of said pool to reach the other side, he was with what assume to be his friends, i vaguely remember thinking how i did have Maid of Honor duties to fulfill but not until later that night so stayed a little too long in my spot.

I saw how his colorful tattoos shined under the water with the sun hitting them. he had a little bun of hair on the top of his, and he seem to be just about the tallest man i ever seen, The most gorgeous brown that have ever crossed paths with me, 

He seemed like a lot of fun, and started from my seat. I was wearing sunglasses and half of them covered my face. I thought I was being cautious and not obvious but when he turned to look my way an almost hazy took over me.

Luckily he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at one of his friends that was passing by me going towards him.

I didn't want to seem like a creep so I decided to just get up and go back into my room. I would be lying if I thought he was very attractive but way out of my league but I probably would never see him again so why even bother thinking such a thing. 

The second encounter was by the bar just down the street of the hotel. I probably shouldn't have drank anything before the wedding but I fear I was more nervous than the actual bride. I wanted to take a shot or two before I had to be back to get ready. i sat at one end of the bar when i saw him reaching the other end, he sat down and other his drink,

He was alone this time, i tried not look his way as the bartender put my vodka soda in front of me and maybe i was being paranoid but i could sense his eyes on me, I pulled out my cell phone from my phone and decided to scroll just so i could have something to do and not look dumb. After about of 10 minutes i decided it was time to go i paid for my drinks at headed, 

Once again this was the last time i would probably see him but was i so wrong, 

The wedding had started and everything was going to plan. The music started playing and as the maid of honor I made my way down the aisle to stand by the sidelines. As my best friend walked down the most beautiful princess and the emotions started to come afloat I saw him once again. He was sitting in the 3rd row of chairs. 

My eyes grew wide, I didn't know why I felt the tension, I haven't even crossed words with him once so it was a bit dumb for me to feel this way. I couldn't run so I was just still until the ceremony had ended, But i could tell even by the side of my eye that at that point he was looking at me with a small smile. 

After the beautiful ceremony and my sweat induced head we moved to where the location for the party would be.

I was having such a good time, I mingled amongst the guests, everything was going perfect and I couldn't be more happy for my best friend Bailey. I didn't want my social battery to run out and as the liquid in my glass, I made my way down to the bar. I ordered a vodka soda and as I reached for it and turned around I nearly fell on my ass, I bumped into someone and it almost made my drink spill on my dress. I didn't pay attention to who was standing in front of me as I was trying to clean with my hands the small droplets that did manage to land on my dress.

“If i didn't know any better i would think you are stalking me” i heard a  voice.

“what..? i don't even know who..” as i looked up to meet his eyes i saw who exactly it was “are…” my voice started to windle down.

“3 times in the span of 48 hours seems like a very unlikely crazy coincidence” 

“i don't know what you mean” i tried to stay confidently 

“3 times, darling, 1. by the pool, 2. at the bar down the street this morning and 3. this wedding” he must sense the sheer panic and embarrassment in my eyes “you know i'm just kidding right?” he let out a soft laugh. 

“...yeah, yeah of course!” I said with a shaky laugh.

“if were going to keep running into each other it's best i introduce my self, Im Noah”

“im y/n”

“pretty name for a pretty girl”

“Uh thanks” I didn't know where to look. I was a bit shocked to actually be talking to him.

“So Maid of honor huh?” he asked intrigues.

“Yeah me and the bride we go way back, weve been bestfriends for years” i said preparing to ask him a question, “and you? Who do you know from here?” 

“The groom, we have worked together a few times” he replied back.

“So you're in the music industry, do you like sound tech or something?” i asked 

He stared at me as if i was saying something so out of the box “Not exactly, i'm in a band, and the groom has helped me and band out a lot”

“Ah that makes sense”

We decided to move our conversation over to the table where the rest of his band mates were seated. it scared me a bit how natural the conversation flowed. I was having a really good time with him and the night was almost coming to an end.

By this time both the bride and groom had already left and retreated back to their room, the only people left were the waiter cleaning up the mess and Noah and I. 

“So do you maybe want to go back to my room and chill for a bit..i mean if you would like of course” he asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes,

I hesitated for a bit, but after a moment I thought nothing wrong could go bad. 

“yeah sure that sounds great” 

We walked down the long hallways of the hotel to catch the elevator, we both knew there was a sexual tension between us and as soon as the doors closed to start ascending the correct floor, his lips were on mine. A sweet slow passionate kiss, where his tongue andmine where dancing in unison

The elevator door couldn't open fast enough, and a brief second we were already outside his door. He struggled to get his key card out of his pocket and as soon as the door he led me over to his bed. He laid me down while he balanced his wight on top of mine 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked 

All i could do was nod, I was too far in and too intrigued on his bedroom skills to say no.

He took over my mouth once more, another kiss, this one more chaotic and wild then the last. He started to slowly pull down the straps of my dress while I in a frantic motion fought to get his pants unbuttoned. 

Clothes started to fly around the room, my dress flew on the floor while my lace panties and bra ended on the side table. His button down shirt somehow made its way on top of the lamp that was sitting on the table in front of the bed, his pants and belt landing with a loud thud on the floor.

And just like that we were both naked. lost in the heat of the moment, Once his lips left mine, he started to leave a trail of tiny kisses from my jawline, down my neck, through the valley of my breast. He made a little pit stop at my navel to situate himself between my legs. Once he did so he picked right up where he left off. 

He overlooked my core to also kiss the inner part of my thighs. I was already high due to his touch. He locked down at my core and looked like the most starved man on earth about to eat a full course meal. 

“Pretty pink pussy darling, and you're already so wet” he said as he licked his lips “may i?” 

Once again all I could do was nod. He dove in and once his tongue made contact with my click and a sweet little moan escaped from my mouth. He lapped a few more times at my pussy before he detached  and sent me into oblivion with his fingers. One finger in, slowly taking it in and out, two fingers in, he started to increase the pace of what he was doing. 

He reached just the right spot a few more times of thrusting in and out. 

“ Noah oh god i'm gonna…” I said in almost a whisper.

“No no no Pixie you're not gonna cum until I tell you to, understood?’ 

“yees”

In one swift motion he turned me around, I was now on all four and waiting for his next move. I heard the sound of a condom wrapper opening. and from what i could tell he rolled it on this cock with ease. 

“hold on tight darling” 

All I could grab was the pillow beside. He did not give me any sort of warning in a matter of seconds he was inside of me. Thrusting in full force. All I could think of unironically was the song Closer by Nine Inch Nails in my head; because what the song was describing was what Noag was doing to me. Fucking me like an animal.

Fast paced, hazy eyes and the smell of raw contact. He slowed down only to catch his breath.

“ah ah Noah..” the moans were escaping my mouth, unable to control them. “It feels so good.”

:”Pixie you're so tight.. So fitting… sooo” Once final thrust in and we were both seeing stars. 

He collapsed on top of me while we both tried to catch our breaths. It was the most exhilarating and mind blowing orgasm that i have had. 

We took a small 15 minute break to hydrate and decompose before we were at it again. By the 3rd round i was so exhausted in the best way possible that i knew come the morning it would hurt to move. The ache of my muscles started to set in and as we laid there naked and vulnerable, My eyes started to close slowly and I succumbed to sleep , no longer fighting it.

By the time I had woken up the sun had already risen, I took notice of my surroundings, slowly taking my gaze through the room until they landed on the spot on the bed next me. 

There he laid asleep covered with a simple white sheet from his waist down, His tattoos brighter than i've seen them the last 3 days. Panic set in my gut, when I looked at my own body, I was completely naked. I scrambled to get off the bed and look for my clothes. I found my dress and my bra but nowhere insight into where my panties would be. I didn't want to wait around for Noah to wait up and kick me out of his room, so I put on what I did find and took my heels in my hand and slowly and quietly made my way to my room. 

Now fast forward to this afternoon where I was face to face again with him. 

“thanks for keeping them… safe.. you know?” i sad blushing and putting them in my purse

“No problem darling, i have a feeling this won't be the last time we run into each other” he said walking away only to turn around in a moment and wink at me. 

I couldn't help but let out a little laugh because I too believed this wasn't going to be the last time we would cross paths..

[setsuntamew]

Hello and welcome to "Icon Making With Killian: An Intro to the 'Lost' Art of LiveJournal Icons"

aka, I'm still making them and I'd like to teach you how to do it, too!

This tutorial was written in Photoshop 2020, but you can probably recreate it in as far back as CS2-ish (since I still use the same sort of techniques I've been using since then, lmao). It also assumes basic understanding of the software, though I've tried to be as clear as possible throughout.

With that out of the way, let's get this tutorial on the road!!!!!!

I started with the bloomed art of Hiiro from the White Lilies scout box (image courtesy of the Ensemble Stars!! English Wiki).

I basically always start with a blank 100x100 canvas and paste the image into it. I try to go into icon making with a vague idea of what I want to do, and I knew from the beginning that my vision for this icon would have the top 1/4-1/3 of the image covered by a solid band of color. To make positioning the image of Hiiro easier, I made a rough version of the band with temporary colors (though they're pretty close to what I ended up using in the end).

With that in place, I could start working with the actual image for the icon. After pasting it in and adjusting the layers so it was under the band, I resized it and moved it around a bunch until I was happy with the position. Once I liked how it looked, I used an Unsharp Mask on the base.

Next up, I used a texture from lookslikerain. However, purple is all wrong for the color scheme I had in mind, so I went to Image > Adjustments > Hue/Saturation... to change it up to better suit my needs. Never be afraid to mess around with textures!

Here's how I adjusted this specific texture, but each one is unique- both the texture and the icon you're creating, so it's best to play with it until you get good results.

I then pasted this into the icon, making sure it was under the layers making up the top bands of color (because I was only trying to affect the base for now), and set this layer to Darken.

Now it's time to mess with the colors of the top band. They sorta matched before I did anything to the base, but now...not quite. I used a layer style for each part of it, but using the paint bucket tool would work just as well. I went to Layer > Layer Styles > Color Overlay... for each, changing the colors as necessary. The thickest band is #85d0bf, the middle band is #086371, and the thinnest, lightest one is #fcfcd8.

Time to start putting stuff on top of everything!! I took this light texture from ianthinae, rotated it, and set it to Lighten. I decided I wanted it to be a little bit brighter, so I duplicated the layer, set it to Screen, and dropped the Opacity to 20%.

I then used a texture from Sarah-Dipity and set it to Lighten as well.

Okay, now that's what I'm talkin' about!!! It's time to throw some text on this~ I went for something simple to go with the theme of the story this card is from: Princely. The font is Georgia, 10pt, in #086371, set to all caps. I decided it didn't stand out enough, so I duplicated it, changed the color to #8b4235, dragged it under the first text layer, and moved it 1 pixel to the right.

I wanted a bit more embellishment around it, so I used this simple tiny text brush from colorfilter in #06444d. I also erased part of it to make it fit the space better.

Finally, I used a texture from shiruji, set to Darken to get a bit more color variation in it, and called it done! :D

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask, and I'll answer as best I can- as long as it's not about making icons in other software D: I only know Photoshop (and Paint Shop Pro, but I don't think anyone uses that anymore). If there are any other icons of mine you're interested in seeing tutorials for - or even just specific techniques! - just lemme know. I love helping :D

Also, I'm happy to share where I get icon resources from. I have a whole post dedicated to that on my DW graphics journal, though tbh that's the best place to talk to me about making graphics in general. But I will absolutely answer asks/replies/etc about icons here on tumblr, don't worry!!!!

[withleeknow]

for the requests — i'll send two songs that i've liked for quite a while and you can choose the member that you see who fits the vibe?

sand by dove cameron

and

make you mine by madison beer

conversations with strangers.

pairing: seungmin x gn!reader genre/warnings: exes to ??, non-idol au (i wrote this with seungmin in mind as a celebrity/singer or musician of some sort so it's pretty vague and it's not explicitly mentioned what he actually does, so if you wanna imagine him as an idol it still fits the narrative. i can't tell you what to do lol), Angst™️! (i think. i liked this at first but then i was looking at it so much that i became desensitized to it and idk if it's that sad anymore lol); the ending is a little ambiguous maybe?, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, could've been more edited word count: 2.9k note: this might be one of my favorite things that i've written lately but i am also in my fish freshly dropped on land era so i am fully prepared for this to flop like ass lol bye

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I saw the end when we began You couldn't love the way I can I tried to bargain with the stars For more than half of your heart But you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand And I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand

Sand - Dove Cameron

"Why did you call me?"

"Why did you come?"

There isn't a good answer to his question, so you choose to ignore it in favor of keeping your eyes on the road, your fingers holding tightly onto the steering wheel. You don't know what to tell him. You yourself aren't even sure why you came to that bar, why Seungmin is sitting in your passenger seat right now just because he was drunk and he wouldn't let anyone take him home but you.

"I asked you first," you say. It takes an effort to keep your voice even, an effort not to look over at him.

"Don't know," he sounds like he couldn't care less, but that's always been Seungmin for you. "Old habits die hard, I guess. You were the only one I used to call."

You round a corner without even having to look at the GPS. The route to his place is still ingrained in your brain even after all this time. On some nights when you feel too stuffy indoors, you would go on a walk by yourself. Directionless for an hour or two, you just want to feel the wind wrap around your body and solid ground beneath your feet.

On these same nights, you would find yourself at Seungmin's door.

It's always unintentional, the way your feet would carry you to his home without your permission.

"Used to," you reiterate. "Past tense. You don't get to call me anymore. I'm not your chauffeur."

You feel his eyes on the side of your face. Then his voice, ever so calm and collected, "You came anyway, didn't you?"

His words irritate you for some reason, even though he means nothing bad. No malice in his voice; he's just simply stating a fact. You did come when he called, and perhaps the person that you're really annoyed with is only yourself, because why did you come?

He should be a stranger to you by now, and yet, you're here.

Maybe you know the answer. Maybe it's not a hard question at all.

You let the both of you wallow in silence for the rest of the drive. When you pull up to Seungmin's building about ten minutes later, you finally turn to cast your gaze upon him with your eyebrow slightly raised, a polite Get out if there ever was one.

Instead of taking the hint like a normal person and going on his merry way, he just stares at you with his big eyes and his hair still styled to perfection even after a night of celebrating and drinking. Seungmin loves to be difficult, this you can't ever forget.

"Well?" you press. "You're home."

He blinks, then swallows thickly. He looks around your car for a few seconds, unsure of himself. If he wasn't intoxicated, you would think he's trying to stall.

"I... I can't go up by myself," he says.

"Are you serious?"

He just nods, something expectant in his gaze.

"You're a grown man."

"Help me up." He doesn't sound all too drunk, but maybe he's just got a way of masking it because Seungmin would never outright ask for help. He's stubborn, and he thinks it makes him look weak. Incapable.

In the end, you give in to his request. You let him lean on you in the elevator on the way up to his floor, the scent of his cologne still overpowering the bourbon he had all night and it makes you just a little nostalgic.

At his door, you hold onto his waist and look away when he punches in the passcode. The door unlocks and this should be it for the two of you, your unexpected reunion should be ending the moment Seungmin crosses over to the other side of the threshold, but he just turns around and looks at you, his body against the frame of the door this time.

"There, you're home safely," you say. "I've done my part. Goodnight."

"Come in."

"Why?"

"I'm tired. Come in." And with that, Seungmin retreats into the apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow without any further explanation at all. For a moment, you stand there by yourself, not really sure of what to do. You hear him shuffling inside, before the sound of his body plopping onto the couch carries over to your ears.

What business do you have here? What business did you have with Seungmin in the first place today?

And yet, you find yourself trailing inside, closing the door behind you until the lock clicks into place. Maybe you're curious to see what the place looks like since the last time that you were here. The two of you never lived together - you weren't foolish enough to agree even though he did ask - but you were over often enough to consider this your second home.

Not much has changed. It's still the same minimalist four walls that you were used to. Same light gray paint, same black couch. Same framed signature of his favorite baseball player and same tiny crack in the decorative bowl on the coffee table. There's a photo on the credenza lying face down seemingly on purpose, but you don't say anything about it.

"What am I doing here?" you ask.

"Why did you come?" he shoots you the question for the second time tonight.

You blink at him. He only stares back.

"Why did you call me?" you repeat. "Why did you really call me?"

Questions thrown out but no answers received, like you're both running in circles, with neither of you knowing why you're even running in the first place.

Seungmin purses his lips before he stands up, the suddenness of the movement leaves him unsteady on his feet, makes him hold onto the couch's armrest for support. "Do you want some water?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Okay."

"Give me a second. Have a seat."

You watch as he pads into the kitchen a little wobbly, then returns a few minutes later with two glasses of water. He sits back down on the couch next to you, some distance dividing the two of you. He takes a sip, you do the same.

"Called you because I missed you," he says, casually admitting it like he was merely discussing the weather. The place hasn't changed, but maybe he has.

The last time you spoke to Seungmin was about six months ago, when he dropped off your things two weeks after you broke up. You haven't had any contact since, and that's exactly the way it should be for you and him now. You went your separate ways and that was it. A mutual agreement that hurts, but it was mutual nonetheless. For the past half a year, all he's been to you is a stranger. You know why it had to happen. You agreed to it.

But, just because you haven't talked, doesn't mean that you haven't thought of him. You wish he only crossed your mind in passing, wish your brain only conjured up the image of him whenever you saw something that he would like, or whenever you caught a glimpse of him on the TV or radio. In reality, it's been much more pathetic. You think of him almost every day, despite your best efforts to cleanse yourself of everything that's remotely related to the name Kim Seungmin. His absence carries itself with you all the time, a hollowness that seeps into every crevice of your life.

You know he means it. Seungmin doesn't lie, least of all to you. His honesty twists inside of you like a knife. Salt, meet wound.

You have no words to offer him, no response you can think of that would make sense to say out loud so you don't say anything. The only sound that falls from your lips is his name, like a warning, a plea, a consolation all at once.

But he doesn't seem to mind. Not his sudden vulnerability, not your reluctance to entertain that split second of honesty.

"I answered your question. Now you have to answer mine," he says. "Why did you come?"

"What do you want me to tell you?"

He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes a moment like he's mulling it over in his head. "Thought maybe you missed me too," he says eventually, ending the sentence with a bitter chuckle. "Just a little bit."

You tongue your cheek, stall with another sip of water before you place the glass on the table. On a coaster of course, Seungmin hates cup rings on his fancy table.

You lean back to rest on the couch, staring up at his boring ceiling. There are memories of you on this very couch, ones of you lying with your head on his lap as he plays with your hair, the two of you winding down after a long day. Or ones that are far too inappropriate to bring up ever again, of nights where you were both too desperate and impatient to take it to the bedroom. Those gentle reminders are still here somewhere, tucked between the cushions perhaps.

"Sure." You hum, nodding along. "Let's go with that."

Another chuckle, humorless. Though, you think he's pleased enough with that non-answer but you're not sure. He mirrors your position, falling into the couch with a sigh. From your peripheral vision, you think he's scooched closer to you, just by a few centimeters, in the process of settling into the sofa.

"My turn," you say. "Why do you want me here?"

"What is this, 21 questions?"

You shrug simply. "You asked me to come in. I'm just curious."

When Seungmin stays silent for a beat too long, you turn your head to watch him, thinking maybe he's knocked out because of the alcohol in his system. But you find him wide awake, his eyes staring ahead, looking like he's already sober.

His face is unreadable when he says, "Wanted to see something."

"See what?"

"See if something is still there."

It's your turn to remain quiet as you process his words, and it's Seungmin who has to turn to gauge your reaction.

"And? Is anything still there?" you ask.

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one that stayed."

"Does it matter? If I say there is?"

"Of course it does."

"What would you do about it?"

He goes still once more. You know he doesn't have an answer to your question. What would he do? What could he even do? Patch things up only for them to fall apart again in a couple months? Once upon a time, you were naive enough to think that you could find a way to make it work. You had enough blind faith to think that it would all work out in the end; that if you wanted it enough, maybe the universe would let you have this one thing.

You return your gaze to the ceiling. He's shown you his cards, maybe it's only fair that you show him some of yours too.

An uncertain inhale, then the realization that this is the only time you would be able to have an honest conversation with him about this.

"Wanna hear something funny?" you ask.

"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway."

It's anything but funny, and Seungmin is certain that you're not building up to a punchline. Sure, it's a little tragic that nothing matters, but there's some freedom, some comfort in that too. You can tell him everything that's plagued your mind for the past couple hundred days or so without having to worry about the repercussions. Even though not all is said, everything is already done.

"You know, you were mine before you were anyone else's," you say. You feel his eyes on the side of your face. The silence persists, and you aren't sure if you can take it as a sign to continue, but you do so anyway because at least he's not pumping the brakes on it, right? "I used to be jealous of your life. Toward the end, I mean."

"Jealous of what?"

"I don't know. Just your life, your dream. All of it."

Seungmin blinks. "You were jealous that I got to live my dream?"

"I said I was jealous of your life, not you," you correct him. "Because you always seemed to want everything else more than you wanted me."

"You make it sound like I was the bad guy." He turns a little defensive all of a sudden, an edge in his voice when he says, "That's not true."

You still remember him well enough to know that it is.

And it's not such a terrible thing; it's simply the truth. You can't fault him for having a dream and for having enough courage to see it through, even if it means unintentionally leaving you behind in the process. You could foresee the end even from the beginning. If you wanted to blame someone, you would have to blame yourself too.

You swerve around his metaphorical walls, his make-believe suit of armor. If you'd been nervous around Seungmin tonight, then that anxiety is now chipping away brick by brick the more you internalize the fact that nothing matters anymore.

"Remember your last show before we broke up? You were so happy, I was so proud of you. You belong on stage and I never wanted to take that away from you. But then I noticed the crowd, the thousands of people out there cheering your name and I realized that I would never compare to them. Their praise meant more to you than mine, and it was only a matter of time before you outgrew me to look for bigger and better spotlights.

"I'm not saying you were wrong for any of it. I don't blame you. You were always going to outgrow me. It's sad, but it's okay. I always knew that you'd have to leave me behind at some point. It's on me too; I just fell too hard too fast for someone who could never stay. It's your dream, you can't help it. But that night... that was the nail in the coffin for me, knowing that one day, to you, I would be just one of the faces in a crowd that you can't even tell apart."

It doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would. In fact, it's even a little cathartic to pour out the words that have been sitting heavy on your chest. Although it's not until a single tear spills over that you realize your eyes have welled up somewhere along the way. You quickly wipe it away with your thumb, then you feel his hand reach for yours after a few beats.

Seungmin calls your name, and you can hear the regret in his voice. When you look at him, his eyes have softened, no longer on the defense now that you've beat him to the offense. "I'm not drunk enough to forget about this in the morning, you know," he says.

"Does it matter? What are you going to do about it in the morning?" you ask. "We're already broken up. It's not like we can go anywhere from here. But at least now you know what it was like for me."

It seems to be a common theme tonight - stretches of silence in between admissions of truth so that one of you can gauge the other's reaction, trying to assess what path would be worth it to take at this crossroad you find yourselves unable to move on from.

Then he's tugging on your hand, pulling you to him until you're in each other's orbit again. Close enough for him to wrap his arm around you. Close enough that you're weak, not that you were ever that strong to begin with. It doesn't really come as a surprise that you let him.

"I..." Seungmin starts, full of uncertainty as he tries to string together a sentence. "We could go back."

This isn't a surprise either, that you're considering his words.

"What happens when it ends again?"

You can practically taste the residual bourbon on his breath when he leans into you, his lips brushing your cheek just slightly. "Then it ends again," he says, a little pained, all too selfish. "But it'll be worth it. It's worth it to me."

"What if it's not what I want? What if it's not worth it to me?"

He pulls back, putting some distance between your faces so he could see you better, the deep brown of his eyes searching for something that you're both aware of.

"You came tonight," he murmurs, as if that in and of itself is a sufficient enough explanation. "You stayed."

Not all is said, but everything is already done.

You had chance after chance after chance to leave, to shut this down - whatever this is - but you didn't, not even once. You're still a willing participant even though you've lived through this ending before. You know he loved you, know he loves you even if the way he goes about it is selfish.

Because you do know the answer to his questions. It's clear as day; anyone can see it from a mile away.

When your world eventually comes crashing down again some time from now, you won't blame Seungmin. You won't blame yourself either, despite having option to walk away from all of this right now.

Because maybe some pains are worth enduring twice, aren't they?

Why did you come? Why did you stay?

Is anything still there?

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.06.2024]

[mc-lukanette]

Taking her talent online, ultimately, had been the way Marinette felt she could play to her strengths without worrying about her weaknesses. Commissions had been helpful as a side job while she made a name for herself, and following that came a proper channel to run and make money off of. She did a little bit of everything, from sewing to designing to color theory and tutorials for how to do it all.

One of the best parts about it was the anonymity of it all, as she could keep her face hidden and no one would question a thing. It meant that no past publicity she had ever gotten as Marinette - particularly those from celebrities - mattered, and she could build herself up based on herself and nothing else.

Not having to talk to people was a bonus. When she did "talk" to others online, it was through instant messaging, and the Marinette who stammered through every word was far less likely to come out when she had to type things out and voluntarily send it afterwards. Even better was knowing that it was harder to be lured in by a pretty face speaking pretty lies when she wasn't face-to-face with them.

It was just about perfect. Sure, she still lived alone as an adult, not having someone to call hers, but she wasn't lonely and she did have someone in a sort of vague way.

I saw your video. That wasn't fair. I was planning on relaxing today and now I can't put my guitar down.

Like she was a schoolgirl all over again, Marinette had to step away from her computer and collapse onto her bed, kicking her legs out and giggling to herself.

She didn't know his name or face, but she'd heard his voice and creative ability. He was another channel like hers, though not a competing one as he made music rather than other creative ventures. From what she'd gathered over their messages to each other, he was like her where he found public fame to be a hassle and preferred being able to simply put himself out there quietly.

Their "relationship" had started with - appropriately - creativity itself. She'd been looking for something to listen to and found herself drawn in by the same faceless presentation that she had as well, going from one of his songs to the next until she'd blown through his entire channel. She got inevitably inspired and made a video where she made a dress based on one of his pieces, which he'd seen and made a video back at her with music piecing together the emotions one of her designs had invoked in him.

She tried not to let herself get carried away, telling herself that he'd done it out of obligation or thanks, but creativity didn't lie. She didn't know anything about music or the details of making it, but she could feel it when she listened to what he'd made: he meant every note he played.

Talking to each other over instant messaging started up from there, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't find it the slightest bit romantic. The videos inspired by each other continued, like love letters to the other's talent, and they weren't shy about praising each other directly through their messages either.

He was the kind of guy she always wished that she'd had in her life: direct while not being overbearing or abrasive. Too often, she'd find herself trying to decipher the vagueness in people's words or question how much she could take out of them. He didn't leave room for that.

He was also, as she'd discovered only a month ago, totally single and lived in New York like she did. The former had been through some idle Q&A while messaging each other, but the latter was what she'd parsed out from some of his music: just enough was taken from landmarks or notable aspects of it that he had to be living there.

She stayed up some nights, dazed with thoughts of how close they might be to each other. Would she walk down the street one day and hear his recognizable style playing from a window he'd accidentally left open? Or had they passed each other on the street dozens of times and hadn't realized? She'd grown content in knowing that her social interaction in her offline life had greatly diminished due to her online job, but it was different with him.

The worst part was that she knew she could just ask him if he felt the same and would get an honest answer. All it took was working up the courage.

Heading back to her computer and looking over his message for the twelfth time, she smiled to herself and typed out her response.

Oh no. I'm forcing you to create more. Now you'll get even more of all the attention you deserve.

Her heart raced even after she'd sent it. He brought out a side of her that was much bolder than she was normally, and she liked it. Sometimes she caught herself twirling a strand of her hair or caring about how she looked as if he could see her and it was almost like a game.

A blush-inducing game.

I know. Terrible. But seriously, you're really something. I didn't know if my message would come through the music when I wrote it, but you caught everything. Either I'm a musical genius, you're a genius music analyst, or both.

She laughed at the idea that she would be some sort of music connoisseur, sampling his tracks like fine wine to determined their meaning.

You're definitely a musical genius. Just don't let it go to your head or you won't be able to find room to hide your face in videos anymore. Besides, you being so humble is one of my favorite things about you.

She hesitated before sending the last message, wondering briefly if she was coming on a little strong. Friends could casually talk about the traits they liked in each other, right?

Assuming they were friends, anyway. She supposed they'd never really put a name on it.

His next reply took a few seconds longer than she would've expected for its length.

It's hard to pick favorite things, but I've always admired how much you try to make everyone happy. You reply to so many comments, you're always listening to them, and I can see how hard you're working to make something entertaining.

He noticed? Well, of course he noticed - it was him - but she rubbed her pink cheeks at the thought that he'd been paying that close attention to her. She couldn't judge or anything as she put just as much effort into keeping an eye on him, but he was a special case.

Did he do that with everyone? Could she afford to ask, maybe with a little "haha" at the beginning to keep it casual?

Before she could start typing out some experimental responses, she noticed that he was typing again and kept still.

I hope you're putting just as much effort into making yourself happy too, whatever your happiness is.

She held back a squeak even though he wasn't there to hear it. The way he'd always worry about her was precious, like when she hadn't posted any videos in a week and he immediately asked if anything was wrong or she needed a break. He was just that kind of person, caring for all people generally but prioritizing those he was close to; it sounded standard, but he would've easily told her to not care in the slightest about her viewers and just be ruthlessly selfish if it was for the sake of her personal happiness.

It reminded her of love interests in stories at times, specifically the ones who would act neutral or cold to all others but treat their special someone extra special.

Swallowing down the feelings in her throat, she focused on responding to him.

Whatever my happiness is? Even if that's a person?

It was a joke more than anything else to lighten the atmosphere she'd caused in her own room. Maybe he'd crack some line about stealing someone away for herself.

Though, looking over the message again, she realized the ways he could take it. She chewed at her bottom lip, wondering how she could deal with it if he told her honestly that he was fine with her going after anyone. It wasn't as if she'd feel like he'd been leading her on, but they'd grown to a level of closeness where she hoped their relationship wasn't strictly friendly.

He finally responded, but she granted that time felt like it was creeping along painfully slowly while she'd waited.

Yeah. Anyone at all.

Her heart sank. So he was fine with anyone, meaning—

Including me.

Heat climbed up Marinette's neck. She stood, so quick that she nearly knocked her chair over, and ran right back to her bed to start punching her pillow. The screech she let out was entirely involuntary, a desperate attempt by her body to get out all of the emotions those two words had given her.

He could've left it at "anyone," which technically included him anyway, but he made sure to single himself out so she would know. Direct, just like she'd always asked for, good for her head and wonderfully bad for her heart. Knowing that he wanted her to pursue anyone at all, even beyond him, for the sake of her own happiness, somehow just made him more attractive.

And she didn't even know what he looked like!

By the time she'd finished beating up the pillow that had done nothing wrong, she frantically ruffled her hair and scratched at her scalp whilst trying to sort her thoughts. She looked like a mess by the end, someone who'd just gotten out of bed, but she didn't care. She knew she couldn't leave him on read, so she hurried back to the computer to reply to him.

She took a long, deep breath before sending it out, thinking to herself, Here we go...

You make me happy.

The heat climbed higher and she covered her face with her hands, rifling through her memories to figure out when she'd gotten so utterly embarrassing. He wouldn't mind, she was sure, and if it really bothered him then he'd probably give her an out so they'd never have to talk about it again.

She hoped he didn't.

The signature notification sound - the plucking of an electric guitar - played twice, alerting her that he'd responded. She peeked through her fingers to read.

You make me happy too. I want to meet you.

"AHH!" she screamed, impulsively slamming her fists into the keyboard. A mess of letters got sent to him as a result, but that about summed up her thoughts more than anything she could've possibly typed out.

He wanted to meet her. She made him happy too. Her heart fluttered fast and pleasantly in a way that only he could cause, even with the anxiety that came with that. She still wasn't good at offline socializing, and instant messaging had been all of their interactions barring videos they made for each other. What if her full self put him off?

Another two messages popped up.

I couldn't stop myself from saying that. There's no pressure if you don't want to meet up. You can just tell me honestly how you feel. You won't upset me, I promise.

Honestly? She shut her eyes for a moment in an effort to calm herself. The fact that even he - whose relaxed voice never raised once in any of his videos - couldn't help impulsively messaging for a meet up was promising, so she couldn't dare give up the opportunity.

She just couldn't, and she forced herself to type her honest opinion on the matter.

I want to meet you too.

It wasn't directly a promise to see each other, she reminded herself. They didn't set a time or place, even though they shared a state and timezone so it wouldn't have been that difficult to plan. Their shared careers meant that they could easily match each other's schedules, but nothing had to be set in stone right then.

Yet, in all her conflicting emotions, she looked forward to the mere idea.

[vixensbrainrotts]

The one behind the mask

Content: Short imagine

Tropes: tattoo artist! reader, hairdresser! reader, vaguely gothic! reader, Draken is kind of obsessed with the reader here, but nothing really too deep

Warnings: some mention of scissors and tattoos (lmk if i missed anything)

Summary: Takemichi has to find out more about the past-you, so he decides to ask around the gang to see if anyone has any connections. To his luck, Draken deems him fit to meet you, and so Takemichi gets to experience your expertise first hand

Vixen’s two cents: This is such a random idea, idek where it came from but lmk if you like it or not. Also! Requests and asks are open, and if you’d like to be a moot (to perhaps proofread or triangulate ideas) pleaseeee feel free to message me!!!! Now enjoy

"She's the best at what she does, trust." Draken's voice left no room for argumentation, his gruff voice sealing the deal as he leans back into the couch behind him. He was on an endorphin high of sorts, his confidence boosted due to the fresh lineup he just got, the growing hair now cut shirt, his signature style refreshed.

Akkun frowned behind Takemichi a little, a bit disheartened by the 'threat' you posed to him and his future business. "So... She cuts hair and therefore she's under special gang-internal protection?"

Draken chuckles heartily and shakes his head. "No, no. More than that. She‘s the best tattoo artist i know too! Ask any guy who got a tattoo in the past three years who tatted it, and she's your answer. She does it well, too. I remember back when a guy wanted an impossible coverup for an ex's name- she made it work, right as rain! And there was an awful lot of ink to cover."

Takemichi didn't quite grasp why or how you achieved the status you unintentionally had in the gang, but it was vital information for his future, real-time version. When Naoto had asked him to research you a little closer in person, Takemichi had expected you to be another fierce gang leader- one who dons the same scary-looking plague mask as you in the future.

What he had not expected was to learn that you were apparently a hairdresser-tattoo artist fusion type thing. Why did you play such a big role in the future? Sure, he understood having a favorite barber, Akkun being the best example for that, but placing them in the closest circles of a highly criminal gang for exclusive trimming rights? That's a little far, no?

"You don't get it, do you?" Draken asked, his hands on his thighs, rubbing them as he rose to a stand in one movement. Takemichi flinched a little, a bit taken aback at how easily Draken would read him. "No, not really. I-" Before he could finish, he was interrupted.

"What's this about?" he was cut short by the other twin Dragon. "Mitsuya-kun!" Takemichi startled. "Y/n. He doesn't quite get why she's has the place she has here." Mistuya's eyes widened a sliver at Draken‘s words, and he threw an arm around Takemichi's shoulder. "You got any plans Hanagaki?" Takemichi shook his head no in response. "Good, 'cause we're givin' her a visit."

And with that, Takemichi's fate was sealed. Mitsuya and Draken pulled him along towards their bikes, Akkun tagging along behind him per Takemichi's request. The group settled onto their bikes and drove off, and Takemichi tried to keep track of the path from hither to thither, but lost track after the turns got too confusing.

After a while, both bikes came to a stop, pushing down the Kickstands in front of a grungy-looking little shop, the doors glazed in a matte cover, only leaving an outline that looked like a Plague-doctor's mask. Ah. There was a parallel he could draw. "Is this the place?" Akkun asked, his voice laced with a bitter touch of distaste, probably intimidated by your place in the hairdressing market.

"Yup! This is where dreams are made a reality!" Mituya spoke, his voice a lot livelier and genuine than usual. "She's gonna have a field day with you Mitchy." Draken snickers as they push open the doors to the shop, a little jingle playing in response.

"What's that supposed to mean-" Takemichi's voice died in his throat when his eyes fell on the interior. Dark, weird, gothic, wonderful. Those were the words that come to him t describe your shop. Kooky portraits, lacey details, and a million different shades of black were highlighted only by the mahogany of the front desk and the dimly glowing lamps and candles littered around the walls and surfaces.

There was a black bulletin wall with a few dozen sketches pinned to it, the title "Please let me put this on you" in the center of pictures of flowers, bugs, lace designs, birds, and many, many others that didn't fall into the eye too directly.

On your desk and on a shelf behind it laid a few skulls of animals Takemichi couldn't even begin to place, the only hint being the type of sharp, white teeth they did (or didn't) have.

There was a scent of something in the air, but Takemichi couldn't place that either. It was a pleasant mix of natural and synthetic, a unique mix that lingered in his nose and clouded his mind with a very welcomed sense of calm.

"Coming." An unexpectedly soft voice called. What however emerged from the corridor leading off to somewhere next to your desk, looked nothing like the voice Takemichi just heard. The guy was almost bigger than Draken and just about the same amount of bald, his face littered with piercings and clad in a style much too modern to fit the shop.

The guy didn't talk to them however, he only turned to the desk, pulled out a wallet, and started fidgeting with the bills. With his back turned his scalp was on display, an impressive image of a burning, hyperrealistic black and white skull faced the group. It was new, they could tell by the slightly red skin, and the shiny coat of a second skin placed carefully overtop. Takemichi held his breath. So that's what you do. Draken pointed a finger at the fresh tattoo and pulled his brows upwards for a moment, clearly impressed with how clean it looked.

Then a second pair of footsteps sounded from the same hallway, and this time Takemichi was sure it was you. Lo and behold your figure emerged, clad in something much more appropriate to the shop's aesthetic, black latex gloves still on. "Ah." you looked a little unimpressed when you caught sight of the group looming in your reception.

"Didn't I just get rid of you?" it was purely rhetorical, because the moment you passed them, you were tending to the guy standing at the desk, showing him a clipboard and then mumbling a price at which the guy nodded and passed the money, saying his thanks before bidding you a pleasant afternoon before leaving the shop, the door falling shut and the little jingle playing again.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" You ask, sorting the money into the register, separating the tips and putting them into a little box beside it. "Hi y/n." Draken started, grinning from ear to ear. "Hello, Ken. Speak. What do you want?" You didn't spare them a glance as you finished up and pulled the gloves, chucking them into a bin under the desk.

"Right, so, I've brought you someone in desperate need of your assessment." Draken finished finally, stepping to the side to reveal Takemichi in your line of sight, and it was as if you felt the shift, you looked up.

When your and his gaze locked, a shiver ran down his spine and he could feel sweat trickle down his nape. He gulped and shakily brought up a hand to send you a little wave. “Oh fuck.” You mumbled to yourself, eyes darting form his face to his hair and down to his face again. “Yeah alright thanks for the charity case.” Takemichi didn’t know whether to feel offended or not.

“It’s bad, isnt it?” Draken leaned over your desk and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Takemichi. “Worse.” You replied curtly and then waved your hands at the group, ushering them to back up a little. You bustled your way to the hallway, waving a hand to them again. “Come then.”

You left the group a bit aloof, but after a few seconds of standing in silence Draken and Mitsuya started following you into the side rooms. Take Michu and Akkun shared a look before following cautiously, a little unsure of what to expect.

Once they entered a room you had already set up a chair in front of the biggest mirror Takemichi had ever seen, and were sorting out different tools and products on a tray in front of the mirror. Draken and Mitsuya had taken a set on a couch adjacent to the seat and were idly chatting about this and that to you in terms of the shop as well as a few questions regarding your previous client.

Idle chit-chat halted when you laid eyes on Takemichi and gestured for him to sit. “Well then, please sit.” Takemichi shares a brief look with Akkun again, who by now has taken seat in the grandfather armchair beside the couch the others were on. “Mkay..” he mumbles and sits stiffly.

“Relax!” You say as you come up behind him “You look like you’re about to shit yourself. I promise i wont stab you or anything.” Your face morphs into something that might resemble a smile before you grab his hair cautiously, carding your fingers through it, judgemental eyes scanning his hair. “Hmm Ken, when i said you should bring me your worst i didn’t really mean it.“ Ken laughs in response “You should know me by now, i dont make promises i cant keep!”

You roll your eyes a little “I would have appreciated a heads up if i knew that this is what you’re bringing me…” you pull the hair out of his face and tilt his head to different angles. “He has a good face with strong features, its just unfortunate how he’s decided to work with it.”. You speak as if he’s not in the room with you.

After a few moments of silence you release his head again and grab the scissors hanging from your belt pointing them at Takemichi through the mirror. “I know what i have to do with him.”

Mitsuya and Dranken whooped in response. You tell him about what kind of hair he has, how to treat his scalp, what colors and shades would (and wouldnt) suit him and how to style it properly.

By the time you’re done, you and him had agreed on a cooler, slightly darker shade of blonde as well as a more maintainable cut thats easier to style. Then you began unleashing tool after tool, product after product, and Takemichi thinks that this is the longest and simultaneously shortest hour he’s ever experienced.

When you finally deem your work as finished, you have him turned away from the big mirror in anticipation. “You ready?” You ask him with a slight smile on your face and grab the back of his chair, ready to spin him around. Before he answers, Takemichi looks over to the guys sitting on the couch.

Draken nods approvingly, “You’ve dont it again y/n, i cant believe it!”. Mitsuya wolf-whistles jokingly, “Damn Mitchy! Your girlfriends about to be real happy.” and Akkun’s mouth hangs open in pure admiration “How...? what…?” And thats all the approval he needs to turn nod at you, allowing you to turn him around.

For a second Takemichi wasn’t sure who was looking back at him through the mirror before he realized that it was his reflection, eyes just as wide as his felt, but the hair about a million times better than the last time he looked at it. All of a sudden he understood why the guys cared so much to keep you to themselves- you were a one in a million find.

“So.. What do you think” you ask, knowing well what the answer was. Takemichi wishes he could have answered but the words caught up in his throat, so he stayed open-mouthed like a fish out of water. “I think he likes it.” Draken answered for him and rose to a stand, the others following suit behind him. “We’re done here then.” You conclude and pull the cover off of Takemichi’s still frozen body.

“How much do i owe you?” Takemichi finally chokes out once Akkun had pulled him out of the seat and towards the shop’s front. You glance up at Takemichi and shake your head. “Nothing. I had enough fun fixing you, so perhaps just consider coming back when time’s due?” You walk behind the counter, checking something that looked like a schedule. “Now it was a pleasure doing business, but i have a client coming in for a sleeve in half an hour and i think i want a lunch break beforehand.”

“Thank you so much!” Takemichi says again before turning to the door, running a hand through his hair confidently. Akkun follows closely behind him, keen on inspecting the new cut from every angle, whilst Mitsuya throws a “We’ll leave you to it then!” Over his shoulder to you and leaves the little shop as well.

Takemichi is still too caught up in the bliss before he realizes that one of them is missing. “Wait!” He stops abruptly, “What about Draken?!” Akkun gasps in realization too and goes to turn around but is quickly stopped by Mitsuya who pulls the both of them along.

“Leave him to it, I think he’s getting lunch before his appointment so dont you worry about them.”

[pixiestickie]

so . i did something ^}*#*}*%+%

(more parts might come and if that happens this post will be the masterlist)

ramble ⏬

so . ok here goes nothing. first things first.

this is like the “fisherman meets mermaid and they are in love” AU trope but jamil isnt a fisherman: he pretty much retained his canon life, aka he is a servant and one day he found a merman and he just hangs around him to escape from his shitty life situation (and the merman is completey enamoured).

so, apart of NRC not happening, more details about the canon divergence should be revealed at a later date

thiat is the info about the au out of the way. ill just do personal rambling here esp bevause im insecure about some things about this so you can stop reading if you want.

this is a trope ive seen around a lot, especially on twitter, so ive had this idea since a bunch of months ago. i then proceeded to forget about it until i saw a twitter post about this same exact trope again except it was with fucking miguel o’hara but thats besides the point. the original post that made me get the idea were 2 ocs (they had the blood-cut-to-call-merman idea. I completely stole it from that. im coming clean) and i was like “wow do you know who else is a mermaid? azul fucking ashengrotto”

ok so no the art style i used. i started using it really recently to doodle stuff, since 2 days ago actually im so serious. i tried using it here as well bevause its an easy art style, really quick to draw with it and also looks good. or so i thought. because im now having doubts about wether it looks good or not and i fear it might just look weird. i kinda wanna hear if people prefer this art style or my “actual” one from my other posts

this style looked way better when i used it to doodle stuff, but i dont think im capable of using it in comic format. the style i was going for is mostly evident in the colored “poster” because ive actually redrawn the comic sequence a bunch of times so the style was lost there. I do like how the “poster” looks but im not sure if y’all would agree so id love to hear wyt

now the biggest part. ive never made comics in my life!! so these are going to look so damn akward. u can already notice it here!!!!! crowd starts booing

also i cant draw water and also i dont know how to draw azuls octo patterns bc the material we have of his design are so vague and fragmented but his patterns are not easy to draw so im struggling and i need to make a reference of him for myself 😭😭

[thebluestbluewords]

Retro-Red

Hi friends. Enemies. Reluctant allies.

It's been a long time since I had a really impassioned rant about the silly logistics of these silly dcom movies that I love so much. But never fear! I rewatched the first 20~ish minutes of Rise of Red the other day, and I've come back with some more thoughts about Red's outfits. 

Mostly that she DESERVED a silly retro vaguely 80s-90s outfit after the time travel.

My visual art skills aren't up to the task of drawing her a new outfit from scratch, but I love silly retro clothes AND dissecting costumes, so I'd like to present some ideas on how to 80s-ize Red’s costumes post time travel.

Main outfit: I really don't love her main outfit - I think the materials look cheap. Her jacket has fun weird sleeves, but they're not easily identifiable as "2020s fashion", and I feel like the costume designers leaned a little too hard into making the outfits look like what they thought "edgy fairy tale fashion" would look like, and not hard enough into making them fit the descendants style that was already established by the last three movies. I’d hoped for more of a distinctive wonderland vibe- maybe a more dramatic fantasy top, or mixing in some color that isn’t just the same matchy-matchy shades of red and black. Give her some white and yellow details maybe?? Or at least let Red visually rebel through her clothes by giving her a look that’s different from the rest of wonderland- make Wonderland vintage, and Red modern! Give her something to make her stand out, not blend in with her mom! Red outfit (the second picture) I actually don't hate this one. She's kind of working the coordinated athletic set look, which as best I can tell is still a trendy 2020s teen look! She's got enough impractical studs to read as VK-style, but not so many that I question how she was walking around set. (cough-chloe-cough) 

side note: I never want to bash a plot-significant shoe choice, but seriously. These are.....bad. 

How is she walking around in these?? The stones on the bottom are doing to give her no traction. I love a glittery shoe as much as the next girly, but these look like a pair I used to own during my middle school days, not a pair fit for a princess. I’d rather see Chloe in some materials meant to genuinely imitate iridescent glass, rather than regular silver rhinestones. Something like these:

(Sporty and coordinated feels like the ideal Chloe vibe, and as best I can tell, that means immaculate un-creased sneakers)

BUT!! My biggest complaint about the costumes in this movie isn't actually about the costumes we did see- it's about the costumes that we were TRAGICALLY DEPRIVED OF SEEING. 

Red and Chloe DESERVED 80s/90s inspired outfits to wear after the time jump, and I’m here to deliver some very accurate and normal ideas for what they COULD have worn!!

consider this a reference image: what Red and Chloe were actually wearing around Merlin Academy.

Red’s general vibe- she’s got the big jacket, the layers, and a sort of cool-girl-slacker vibe.

I think we can make her jacket More 80s. She needs bigger shoulder pads! Her sleeves are big in her modern clothes, but they’re big at the end of the sleeve, not the shoulder! Give this girl VOLUME.

once we’ve got the shoulder pads in place, we need to think about color variation. Colorful details are FUN. They give IMPACT. They bring in the mismatched, retro vibe. Imagine the first Big Shoulder jacket with pink and red collar details- adorable! In character! It ties Red visually to Bridget! And if she needs a sportier look, well, the tri color leather is also a solid option.

Red’s canon pants are cut pretty tight, and I think we can roll with that!! #giveredstirruppants

If she needs the color block vibe, giving her some stripes with the heart cutout (probably not rainbow, but maybe a red/pink sort of look??) would fit the vibe, make her pants look different from her modern outfit, and still look distinctively Like Red.

Alternatively, give Red Big Detailed Vintage Denim. It would work for her too-cool-for-school vibe. Also the heart jeans are Extremely Cute.

For accessories, I want Red to go bigger with her hair. Claw clips are trendy in 2020, but they were ALSO a 90s trend, and giving Red a little half-up claw clip as a time travel alternative to her space buns would have been CUTE.

for Chloe’s look:

Big hair is ESSENTIAL TO ME. GIVE CHLOE CURLY RETRO BANGS. SHE NEEDED THEM. LET ELLA CUT THEIR HAIR TO MATCH IN A DRAMATIC BONDING SCENE. LET HER OFFER TO TRIM BRIDGETS SPLIT ENDS RIGHT AFTER AND EXPERIENCE THE INTIMACY OF HOLDING A BLADE CLOSE TO ONE ANOTHER’S NECK.

(I am. So normal. About them.)

as the sporty fencing queen of my heart, Chloe deserved to wear leg warmers. Preferably with jeans (because oh dear god what a trend), but they would’ve been cute with color coordinated leggings too. She needed these. They could have had crowns knitted into the cable pattern. They could have had GLITTER. Or pompom appliqués of a princess figure holding a cheerleading pompom. We could have had it all!!

speaking of sporty looks, I think Chloe would have looked adorable in a vintage varsity jacket. She could’ve had her dad’s old school jacket! There could’ve been a whole moment where she had to scramble to justify why she had it! More Charming family bonding!!

But if we want to stick closer to her canon look, Chloe is wearing a quilted jacket. The ambiguously historical 80s-90s had quilted jackets. Chloe could rock one of these. She could color coordinate it with her leggings!!

I don’t have a conclusion to this rant (this is a lie) (I have so many images of high fashion 80s prom gowns that the girls COULD HAVE WORN TO CASTLECOMING) but in not-really-conclusion, give these movies More Goofy Vintage Looks!! Adding a bigger costume difference between the modern Auradon Prep scenes and the historical Merlin Academy scenes would have gone a long way towards improving the overall costuming of the movie.

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 37

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Welcome to my bi-weekly fic rec list! This is everything I read in the last two weeks. It's... a lot. I did March Fic Madness and also just was generally in a reading mood so there's like 40 fics here. They're in alphabetical order by boy.

All info provided by the author unless it was blank, in which case I filled it in.

Constellations in his eyes

Dave York one shot by @janaispunk

Your fiancé stands you up on your birthday. Dave doesn’t.

infidelity, shitty boyfriend, angst, fluff, kissing, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n

What Love Means

Dave York one shot by @ravensmadreads

Dave has a panic attack and you help him through it

So David is probably ooc (but this version of him is my comfort character sorry), description of a panic attack, mentions of canon violence, and like the barest hint at smut.

The Mess of Us

Dave York one shot by @ravensmadreads

I gave david york my heart and then proceeded to bash it with a sledgehammer - forgive me :p this is the same universe as What Love Means

vague smut, lots of angst (i mean i tried), almost entirely canon compliant, vague-ish attempt at smut, mild cursing, insane use of italics.

The One

Dieter one shot by @schnarfer

If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?

Bit of emotional torment, drink and drugs references, Dieter POV, happy ending? Always Fleabag coded.

Purple Haze

Dieter one shot by @schnarfer

that boy put a spell on you

1960’s London Dieter Bravo AU, heavy on the British slang, explicit alcohol and drug references, reader is a model but no physical descriptions, outfit descriptions, swearing, sort of enemies to lovers if you squint, smut; protected PIV, light bondage, reader is in control and Dieter is a subby puddle, pet names (angel, doll, darling), light dirty talk, playful slaps. Just a note we’re always very Fleabag coded here.

House Arrest

Dieter one shot by @rulexofxnines

Dieter stays over at your place out of desperation. Things get out of hand so you take control of the situation.

forced proximity, only one bed, a goat

The Howler Monkey

Dieter one shot by @covetyou

You got him here, he was safely tucked away upstairs and everything was going, mostly, according to plan. So, who the fuck is screaming?

no smut but some nudity, implied drug use/addiction, little bit silly, mildly angsty, performance anxiety, screaming, Dieter Bravo's soft cock. basically mild hurt/comfort/fluff with my usual bit of silliness.

Vampire!Dieter

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Interview with a vampire, gatsby style

flirting, a bit of blood, maybe dubcon due to The Thrall but i think it's safe to say we all want It from vampire!dieter, unbeta-ed because i needed to write something or someone was going to die

Brick House

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter buys a house for you and the baby

mention of past drug use, fertility issues, mention of sperm donation and clinics, false pretenses, Dieter might be a bit obsessed or a lot

Stay sexy and don't get murdered

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Trapped behind a secret wall to hide from a murderer, the close proximity forces you and Dieter to confront feelings you rather bury underneath your case to prove your favorite neighbor didn’t commit suicide.

brief moments of tv-appropiate terror, arguing, mentions of suicide, mentions of death/murder, but more importantly: smut (like half of this is smut), oral (f!receiving), dieter’s bare ass nearly catching on fire, too many feelings for something that started as a crack fic idea

Fare Well

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter has been working so hard. He still has an issue that might be because of his mind. What can he do about it? Do anything else.

unhealthy coping, sexual dysfunction, sex work, teasing, pet names, sexual activity (actual and implied I think? I should know. 🙃)

A poor plan to confess

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter is doing his best to stay sober. You have a large part in his plans. They aren’t well thought out.

Dieter being a bit rude, porn use, mention of masturbation, teasing, improper toy use?, very bad communication, some mentions of sexual activities and acts, Nerdie is unsure of what she wrote

Conversation Pit

Dieter one shot @thosewickedlovelies

You’re viewing a mansion with Dieter, and it has a conversation pit. Does he have the discipline to keep his hands to himself?

friends with benefits, SMUT: Dieter’s favorite dom appears 👀 could it be someone we know?; mmf threesome, piv sex, semipublic sex but don’t worry, edging (m receiving), references to sex work

Lush

Din one shot by @the-scandalorian

Mando makes regular visits to the healing baths.

touch-starved Din; reader is blindfolded; smut

Immortal By Design

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

Din Djarin picks up a mysterious job at the Bounty Hunter’s Guild from a high paying client that specifically requested him. Once he tracks down the bounty, he discovers two things— you tracking the bounty for different reasons entirely and a lot more than he bargained for.

reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), no Grogu in this universe, possession, cursed object, dark!Din, monsterfucking (I think), Din has heightened capabilities, dub con/noncon, restraints, reader gets captured, oral sex (M and F receiving), rough oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mir’sheb = smart ass, character death, no use of y/n

Enchanted to Meet You

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

You’re a senator for the New Republic and tonight you’re forced to attend the New Republic Gala. Senator Xiono won’t leave you alone but that in turn leads you to meet Mando, a security guard at the event. And that leaves you wonderstruck.

Reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, reader has consumed alcohol, creepy guy at the gala, fingering, semi public sex, vaginal sex, pull out method, pet names (cyar’ika, mesh’la), no use of y/n

I don't mind bleeding

Din one shot by @quicksilvermad

You and the Mandalorian have a mutually beneficial relationship—he pays your rent and you feed him when he needs fresh blood.

vampire!Din, blood, PIV sex, biting, sex work, second person POV, AFAB Reader, one instance of "good girl", aftercare

Bound

Din one shot by @frannyzooey

It’s your thighs he’s bound this time — not your hands for a change.

smut, bondage, AU

Hello to the Green

Ezra one shot by @the-blind-assassin-12

Down a ship, a crew, and a working air filter, and suffering from a rapidly worsening infection, Ezra makes one last ditch effort to get home. And he hopes it’s enough.

language, angst, injury and illness, death

Paint With Me

Frankie one shot by @bitchesuntitled

You have a crush on the dad of your daughter’s best friend.

Sexual innuendos and cursing

Right on Cue

Frankie one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

The quiet bartender lends you a hand after you've closed up for the night.

reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed. Oral sex f receiving, protected PIV, that's pretty much it. this is just PWP

Door Number Three

Javi G drabble by @morallyinept

Javi shows you what he keeps behind that mirrored door

Character talk alludes to sexy things.

Dámelo

Javi P one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

You want more. Javi wants to give it to you. You just have to give him something first.

mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, aftercare. reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed.

Dress Up Joel

Joel series @covetyou

when a mysterious stranger breaks into your house, and keeps breaking into your house, he gives you the fright, and the ride, of your life. Welcome to your seasonal encounters with one Mr. Joel Miller.

sex toys, dress up, festive/seasonal shenanigans, no use of Y/N, see individual fics for additional warnings

He Knows

Joel/Tommy one shot by @psychedelic-ink

Joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.

gonna state this very clearly: joel gets cucked by tommy and watches, everyone is consenting and it's discussed beforehand, piv, dirty talk, possessive!joel, daddy kink, size kink, established relationship between joel and reader, jealousy, some brotherly rivalry, facial, mild degradation kink, creampie

Does Your Mother Know

Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

Joel finds a pretty young thing on the beach to spend some time with on his vacation.

reader is able-bodied, reader wears a bikini & a dress, no outbreak AU, ambiguous beach location, both reader and Joel consume alcohol, age gap (20 years), oral sex (F and M receiving), semi public sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is on birth control, pet names (sweetheart, baby), no use of y/n

Tear You Apart

Joel one shot by @mermaidgirl30

Joel comes for you late at night. He always does. Always stalks, chases, and prowls after you like a starving wolf. And when he catches you, he devours you, feeds on you like the animal he is. Will you run and hide or will you give into the temptation that calls you in the forest?

Dark themes, Little red riding hood references, dark! Joel, Joel is a menace, oral, fingering, choking, unprotected P in V, cream pie, filthy smut, degrading actions, not really violent but lots of dark themes, manipulation, rough sex, dirty talk, Joel calls reader little lamb, possessive Joel, feral! Joel, post outbreak! Joel, controlling Joel, dom! Joel, submissive reader, Joel x fem! reader, Joel is in his late 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s

inhale, exhale

Joel one shot by @sp00kymulderr

This world is not made for intimacy and both of you know it.

Fingering, mentions of sex, smoking (both reader and Joel), canon typical violence mentions, needy!Joel, fear of intimacy. Barely edited as usual.

One Day at a Time

Joel series by @sixhours

Joel becomes a dad. Again

soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Joel is a sap, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff

mine

Joel one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

You encounter a frightening beast in the forest after getting separated from your group. Instead of killing you, he spares your life - the first of many surprises from this mysterious creature.

it's Joel Miller as a humanoid monster beast creature with a massive cock idk what you want me to say, creative liberties with anatomy and bodily fluids, they're soulmates because I wrote this so of course they are, monster!Joel can talk a little but it wouldn't kill him to watch a few episodes of Reading Rainbow or do some alphabet flash cards tbh, one curious use of an aquifer as a metaphor

Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To

Joel one shot by @freelancearsonist

Joel finds a familiar face while out on a smuggling run.

Rated PG for pure angst, one single kiss, and references to Joel's self-inflicted gun wound/self harm

Ahórcame, Papí

Joel/Frankie/Ezra one shot by @marisferasiop

After he gives a recovering addict a job (and subsequently falls head over heels for him), Joel and Frankie have a sweet, fulfilling relationship as Daddy and little exploring their kinks. Then, they meet Ezra at a leather club, another damaged vet with his own issues and kinks. They take him home, and he never really leaves.

Daddy Kink, Daddy/littles, pup kink, Breathplay (hands on throats), Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Control "Training", Light BDSM, Aftercare, Soft Dom Joel, vers Ezra, Bottom Frankie Morales, Oral Sex, Cockwarming, AnalSex, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Breeding Kink, Heat/rut kink, PTSD mention (vets), gags, fingering, choking, cum eating, prostate milking, fucking machine mention, the elusive "sissygasm"

On the Verge of a Usual Mistake

Lucien/Dieter two shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

You've been avoiding your exes Dieter Bravo and Lucien Flores all night at this event, but you're forced to come to terms with how things ended in both relationships when they seek to right their wrongs.

this is truly just porn with minimal plot (I'm so proud of myself lol), Dieter and Lucien are messy exes, threesome activities, Twister but with genitalia, Daddy and Papi kinks

In shades of gray and candlelight

Marcus P one shot by @freelancearsonist

Nothing good starts in a getaway car, but you sure do have fun delaying the inevitable.

artist!reader my beloved (reader is able-bodied, basic female anatomy and feminine pronouns used, reader is described as having hair that is long enough to be put up but otherwise she’s a blank slate), unprotected p in v sex, cum swallowing, creampie, semi-public sex acts, oral (r + m receiving), handjobs, fingering, very light switchy dom/sub dynamics, a couple spanks, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, honey), heavy praise kink, light size kink, consent king!marcus, just like the song it does not end happily

headshots

Marcus P series by @secretelephanttattoo

You're a photographer and you get a job working for the FBI, taking corporate headshots. On your first day, you run into a handsome Special Agent. The series follows their relationship.

Fluff. Smut. PIV. Romance. Flirting. So much kissing. Non-stop nuzzling. Tiny bit of angst. Marcus in his plaid shirts. Marcus on a motorbike. Skiing. A cameo. Sex talker Marcus.

The Infinity Cube

Marcus P/Various series by @littlemisspascal

When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

language, fluff, angst

12:32 PM

Marcus M one shot by @dancingtotuyo

Marcus likes to think he's moved on with life.

Grief, loss of a spouse (Wife), fluff

Given a name

Oberyn/Ellaria one shot by @missredherring

"This would be your greatest indulgence?" He asks, the edges of his beautiful mouth curling into a pleased grin. / How like a man to inflate his importance. It’s a pity that he isn’t wrong. / This will be my greatest selfishness.

Angst. Mentions of canon character deaths. Allusions to Greek mythology cos I'm a nerd. Reader chooses a name for herself.

Innocence need not tremble

Pero one shot by @brandyllyn

"I told you I don’t know how to fuck a maiden."

smut. PiV. starts rough. but gets better.

Cherry Wine

Whiskey one shot by @julesonrecord

Your marriage to your high school sweetheart has been hell for a long time, but when Jack discovers your awful secret, it all comes pouring out like a wine stain on the carpet. What do you find in the dregs?

MDNI; DDDNE; hurt people hurting people, domestic violence (verbal, physical, off stage neglect), there's a mention of human urine omg I'm truly horrified that survived the editing process, off stage drug use as a coping mechanism, alcoholism, infidelity, grief due to miscarriage/child loss, oblique suicidal ideations ("you should have killed me"); explicit smut; dirty talk; piv; fingering; possessive!Jack; emotional resolution?

[itsbenedict]

Recently finished On Your Tail, a sort of... combination cozy life sim/mystery game set in a small Italian seaside town. Except everyone's furries.

It's... got a lot of ups and downs! The good...

The location itself is very charming, and it does a good job introducing you to it and its winding layout. It's got nice music and pretty colors and lots of fun characters.

The overarching plot has some pretty surprising and clever moments, and I generally like how things resolved.

The character portraits are really nice and expressive- I like the art style a lot.

That's not a lot of bullet points, but those I feel dominate the experience. It's pleasant, most of the time. I enjoyed it!

But uh. It's got lots and lots of game design problems.

First, and most importantly: the core mystery-solving mechanic. It's... kind of busted. Like, it doesn't work. And it's weirdly polished and high-effort for something that doesn't work!

The way it works is... after you perform an investigation (using this kind of cool "chronolens" mechanic that lets you see the history of objects) and collect cards representing clues, you go to this... diorama situation where you have to play the clue cards in a particular order to reconstruct a timeline of the crime. As you play cards, little cardboard cutouts of the characters hop around the diorama and perform actions, and you've got to line up those actions such that they interact with each other in context to satisfy the conditions observable after the crime.

That sounds fun! But, uh... the designer(s) responsible just did a really bad job, every single time.

See, the clues you obtain during the investigation are not sufficient information to deduce the events of the crime. Not even a little! Most critical information you obtain, you obtain from watching the cardboard cutouts hop around. You'll play certain cards, and they'll do completely unexpected things in response. You don't know the rules of the puzzle you're solving until you've already screwed around and tried several failed solutions. It's pure trial and error, with the internal logic only vaguely visible after a bunch of attempts.

This is a problem for a few reasons:

There is something kind of fun about doing this, the trying-things-out-and-seeing-if-they-do-what-you-want gameplay loop- but unfortunately there is no back button. If you do something and it clearly didn't have the intended effect, you have to either start from the beginning, or- and you always want to do this because you don't get any confirmed card placements if you bail early- continue slapping cards down even when you know you're wrong and will fail. This is slow and wastes lots of time. Very annoying.

There's no real way to skip over things you've already seen. Did you get the first four card placements right but the last four are eluding you? Well, get ready to play the exact same cards over and over for like three minutes between every attempt at trying something new! There's a fast-forward, but it's only like 2x and you'll be holding it down constantly because the default speed is a snail's pace.

Most importantly, none of this makes any sense in-universe. People treat Diana like she's "solved the case" once you beat the diorama thing, but you don't actually have any new information. The game you just played was imaginary. The only reason you were able to narrow it down based on the evidence was that you hallucinated a bunch of random extra shit happening that could've easily happened differently. People just inexplicably insta-trust your version of events once you solve the puzzle, with no attempt to explain how the nonexistent deductions were made.

These segments are intricate and polished and surprising and it's clear a lot of love went into them- but they're bad. They don't work. The mechanic is so divorced from deductive reasoning that it works exactly as well when they reuse it later for real-time action scenes.

I'm sorry! You didn't do a good job at game design! It's really frustrating and full to bursting with ludonarrative dissonance and wastes five times as much of your time as it should! I like what you're trying to do here but you didn't think it through!

Aaaand sadly, this is kind of mirrored in the whole rest of the game.

Like, there's one minigame I really wanted to like- it's a logic puzzle thing where a persnickety inventor wants you to grab specific tools off a shelf. I love logic puzzles like these! But about half of these were just incomplete. I routinely found valid solves that were incorrect, because the clues didn't constrain the options enough to produce a single solution. Frequently- and this is partially an artifact of an awkward localization- the phrasing of clues would be ambiguous or sometimes just completely wrong for what the clue was trying to say. And the less said about that obnoxious puzzle #9 where you have a secret rule that they don't tell you and want you to puzzle out from an extensional definition, the better.

It's like... they decided to make a game about logical reasoning and solving mysteries, but nobody involved knew anything about those things. They just kind of imagined how they thought logical reasoning must work, and designed games around those. It doesn't work, guys! If you don't understand the mechanics of these things, you need to either get that understanding or make a different game!

The rest of the game is... charming, but lacking in polish in a lot of ways. There's various activities you can do in town to earn money, and it's very hit or miss. There's a standard fishing minigame which is, like, fine when it works, except you get seaweed or trash like 40-50% of the time and it always feels really bad to spend time on for that reason. There's a marble-race minigame with really janky physics. There's a photo safari thing where "is this a picture of X thing or not" is determined by the precise spot you're standing in rather than whether the thing is in frame. There's a gelato-selling minigame where due to some floating-point error, the last eighth of a tub sometimes randomly counts as being empty despite showing a bar of fullness. There's a Cooking Mama bit with some extremely ambiguous input prompts. A lot of these needed more time in the oven.

The biggest wasted opportunity, I think, is with the town's residents. There's over 70 non-story NPC characters in this town, with lots of fun personalities- and very few of them seem to have anything to do. They'll get introduction dialogue, two or three lines reacting to plot events, and if you're lucky a mail delivery quest where you learn a thing about them and their relationship to the other NPCs. They're weirdly light on dialogue or gameplay relevance compared to how much art was done to bring them to life! The game badly needs more mailbag sidequests or other reasons to interact with these characters.

A grab bag of other compliments and complaints:

The waitress minigame is good and works! I had a lot of fun with that. (Only nitpick is when you need to pick up two of something, you gotta do a little loop-de-loop that interrupts your route planning since your plan line can't cross itself.)

The 3D models are kinda uggo compared to the portraits, and it's clear there wasn't much budget for those. A town full of people where the only people ever outside are nameless Paun reskins is a little eerie sometimes.

The boating is really fun! Kinda wish there were more than like five things on the ocean to give you an excuse to do it more. Gorgeous water.

The ending really sneaks up on you! I didn't expect, like... a new character shows up in town, you do the first quest related to her, and then BAM that's a chain of dominoes that immediately topples to the end of the game. Kinda thought it'd pace things out more!

So... did you have problems in playtesting with people accidentally hitting A on cards they didn't mean to play? Because the solve for that- making you hold down the button for a full second every time you want to pick any menu option ever- is... bad. It's bad and really slows the game down. I assume you didn't have a UX person telling you not to do that?

The game has no time limit, and seems built around time management mechanics that don't exist- and this dovetails hilariously with a certain lategame story development. There's your ludonarrative synchronicity!

Wait, why did deer man shoot at old rabbit dude? They super never explain that, everyone clams up about it, and it has no apparent connection to the thief plot. Did he just fuckin' hate Menettu?

Kinda wish the Chronolens did stuff outside of investigations besides "inexplicably be your means of collecting constellations". It's a cool concept, underutilized!

Judging by what's on the DLC roadmap, they're well aware of this, but once you have fully explored the town, not having a fast travel system and having to quite literally hoof it around town later on gets pretty tiresome. You know what the fast travel should be? Traveling fast. Give Diana a skateboard or something speedy, open up the roof geometry, make the town fun to traverse!

Overall- I liked it! It's a real mess of a videogame, but I enjoyed it regardless. The art direction really makes up for a lot of shortcomings, and it's too charming to stay mad at.

[themsource]

Stan and Soos having a moment

Um... was this a shipping request?

I couldn't tell because it was a bit vague what with no ship name, 'x' or '/' indicator, plus a lot of these requests are all pairings ^^; So I just kind of defaulted and went the platonic route

Hope this is still a good read for you!

A Guardian

Stan has to admit, he isn’t particularly fond of employing child labor to help out with his business (too many bad memories he’d rather not have), however it was really paying off for him in the long run.

Not only was he not having to pay what was considered a decent wage (more money toward the insanely expensive supplies for fixing that damned portal was always a win, he was getting too old to keep up the theft game like he used to), but he also found that…

The brat’s company wasn’t too bad.

Soos could be… a little weird from time to time. He obviously had daddy issues (who didn’t though?) and lacked an understanding of boundaries (a bit too familiar of a trait that reminded him of someone he tried his best not to think about too often when not perusing those frustratingly crazed scribblings of a ‘journal’).

But he was a good kid.

As good as a kid could come, he guessed.

Which is why Stan finds himself torn as he stares down at the little tyke who, rather than working on trying to fix the AC unit like he’d asked him to, is instead hiding his chubby face in the tops of his knees, sniffling on the brink of tears.

Stan looks awkwardly around, as if that will somehow magically make someone else appear who’d be more capable of handling this situation, before patting his hands stiffly on his thighs and letting out a resigned sigh.

“What’s wrong chick-o-stick?”

For a long moment Soos doesn’t say anything, only lets out a whimper, before reluctantly lifting his head as Stan takes a seat on the wooden step beside him (with great difficulty by the way, his back isn’t what it used to be).

The kid wipes his eyes and snotty nose with his arm, making Stan wince in disgust before murmuring, “Abuelita i-is in the hospital… she fell.”

Stan’s eyes widen.

He’s only met Soos’ grandma once, but she suffered from the same myriad of problems that Stan did, if not more. She cleaned like it was going out of style and always wore a calm and serene smile even when angrier than a bull, but she was as fragile as glass. The kid had told him how she’d dislocated her hip getting out of bed once, and ever since Stan has always made sure to roll out of bed rather than just jump out like he used to.

“Geez… that sucks.” Stan comments, not sure what more to say.

“Yeah.” Soos agrees, his tiny hands balling into worried fists.

Stan looks out at the forest, his eyes flickering between swaying branches and fluttering leaves as he asks casually, “So, you gonna visit her when you get off here in an hour?”

“No,” Soos whispers, wiping his eyes one more time before looking up at the trees too. “I’ll probably go home, maybe play more games while I wait for her...”

Stan frowns, his eyes darting down to the kid in confusion.

“Wait a minute, I thought only you and your grandma lived together.”

Soos nods, and Stan instantly feels a knot in his gut that has nothing to do with his digestive issues.

“Well then who’s watching ya?”

Soos doesn’t say anything.

Stan’s frown deepens. “You telling me you’re at home alone? You’re what… eight?”

“Twelve, Mr. Pines.” Soos mumbles.

Twelve is still too young in Stan’s book for a kid to be without supervision for an extended period of time. If he was closer to say, fourteen (like Stan was when he was first allowed to be home alone), then Stan would brush this whole thing off with maybe a pat on the shoulder and checking in on Soos once in a while with a surprise visit to his house under the guise of some convenient excuse.

But Soos isn’t.

And as much as Stan likes to think his heart gave out and withered away a long time ago, he can’t ignore how it makes him imagine all sorts of gruesome scenarios that could happen to the young boy.

The world isn’t kind, he knows from experience.

Stan looks up at the sky with a roll of his eyes before huffing, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about somethin'.”

Soos looks up at him curiously, and Stan pointedly avoids meeting his gaze.

“Wanted to ask if you’d be up for doing overtime. Next week is some kinda golden week nonsense that’s sure to bring in tourists from outta country, and I could use the help setting up for it.”

“Overtime?” The confusion in Soos’ tone has Stan reluctantly daring a glance at him as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Yeah, extra work hours… thinking it might be an all day thing, go from five hours to twenty.”

It’s an insane and ridiculous leap of a work schedule but Stan is working with what he can, and waits for the kid to take the bait. 

Soos rubs the back of his neck. “That’s a lot of hours…”

“It’s temporary. And before you ask: I won’t pay you extra, and you’re not getting a raise… but I’d be willing to give you a break room.”

“Break room?” Soos echoes in an awed tone as he instantly perks up, his eyes lighting up at the thought of having his own space at the mystery shack.

He’s not surprised, he knows Soos basically views this place as a second home.

For whatever odd reason that is.

‘Too easy.’

Stan crosses his arms, biting back a smirk as he shrugs again. “Yeah, for taking breaks in, obviously. And for… I dunno, a place to take naps. You’re gonna be doing a lot of work so you might not get it all done during the day. There’s a spare mattress I could toss in for ya. Only rules I’d have for having it is no touching the Pitt in my fridge and no noise after eight.”

Soos suddenly goes quiet, and the look in his eyes… It's a bit too uncharacteristically perceptive for the little pipsqueak, as if he sees right through the older man and knows that this is Stan’s way of trying to keep an eye on him until his Grandma can again.

As if in defiance he silently tells himself and Soos both, ‘it’s only because I don’t want to risk losing the cheap labor, that’s all!’.

But the lie feels a bit bitter on his imaginary tongue. 

Stan fidgets but holds his ground, doesn’t dare say a word as he swallows thickly and tries to ignore how vulnerable he suddenly feels making an offer like this. It’s been longer than he can remember, the last time he tried to look out for someone.

Gradually, slowly, a smile spreads across Soos’ face. 

“Gee Mr. Pines! That sure is cool of ya! I’ve always wanted a break room!”

Just like that the tension breaks, and a feeling close to relief floods his chest as Stan grunts and he pushes to his feet. He absently ruffles the kid’s hair with a careless vigor Soos giggles under.

“Yeah well, don’t get used to it. Like I said, temporary.”

Soos looks up at him with an admiration that makes Stan subconsciously puff out his chest a little (despite knowing he doesn’t deserve it) before he pockets his hands and turns on his heel to head back inside, eager to get away from how awkward he’s starting to feel.

The decades old memories threatening to stir within him.

“Get to work on that AC would ya? Getting hotter than an oven in there.”

“Sure thing Mr. Pines!” Soos calls back before facing the surrounding forest again.

Stan pauses in the doorway as he hears what he’s sure Soos didn’t intend for him to hear under his breath. “Thank you…”

Those two simple words are like an arrow right through Stan’s chest, a breach in his carefully constructed walls. 

…when was the last time anyone had ever been grateful for him being in their life?  

Stan looks down at his feet, and allows himself one moment of selfishness, one split second of stolen and misplaced affection before he buries it again as he whispers back, “Anytime kid.”

And proceeds inside without another word.