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#I don't know about this coloring. I don't know what happened here.
pupyuj · 3 days
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→ “your colorful secrets.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.
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— weeks after the event which you call "the weirdest thing that's ever happened all year", wonyoung approaches you about your 'strange' behavior towards her in the most 'wonyoung' way possible...
word count: 10.6k
dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!reader.
content warnings: smut, fingering, clit play, nipple play, masturbation (for like, a minute lmao), overstimulation, mommy kink, degradation.
requested? : kind of!
a/n: well, we finally made it ya'll! 😭😭💞 i feel like i'm gonna say this about every fic i write here from now on but PHEWWW THIS QUITE LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER?? but i was more than happy to flesh this little universe out more and revisit our favorite mean girl and her awkward nerd <33 just like you guys, "magic words" is one of my favorite things that i have written so even though this kinda took me wayyy too long to finish, I WAS SO HAPPY THAT I STILL DID IT UEUEUE MEAN GIRL WONY MY BELOVED 🥺💓 anyhow, i really, really hope you guys enjoy this and here's to more mean girl wonys in the future hehehe
p.s. i hope ya'll don't get bored too easily bcs wow there's a shit ton of talking in the first half of this fic—
previous: magic words.
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jang wonyoung was late. 
to class.
which wasn’t exactly all that surprising considering she thinks she can do whatever she wants. but she was never late to class. you would know—you were always waiting until she entered the room. it was like you were never calm until she appeared, but that was because you have had the biggest, lamest crush on her all year. even the professor took a pause when he called wonyoung’s name for attendance and nobody was there to respond with “i’m here, professor~” and a cheeky smile. you stared at the empty seat in the middle of the classroom, wonyoung’s seat, and wondered what could’ve been in her way for her to— 
“just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?”
you dropped your pen, covering your red face with your hands. your seatmate gave you a brief look before going back to reading her notes. did you really have to think about that first thing in the morning? well, it wasn’t as if it was all you have been thinking about for the past two weeks: wonyoung’s lips on yours, her hands all over you, her sweet voice soothing you, and her eyes looking at you like you were her last meal… you still couldn’t believe that entire thing even happened!
ever since then, things have been really weird. a lot of people looked at you more when before wonyoung fucked you, you were usually ignored which you liked. and you knew everybody whispered about you and wonyoung too. neither of you were being discreet in that room in the library that day so you heard all sorts of things from your fellow students the day after. usually about how they didn’t think you were that kind of girl, or how they never thought wonyoung would ever consider fucking ‘someone like you’. see, other people would be mad if they heard some strangers say all those things about them but actually, you agreed with them.
everything about that day went against a lot of things that you thought about yourself. well, you weren’t planning on staying a virgin forever but you really didn’t expect for it to be taken by jang wonyoung of all people!
“come on, baby. give me a show.”
you squeezed your thighs together, your heart hammering inside your chest. god, it almost felt like wonyoung was right up against your ear—talking to you and berating you for thinking about her 24/7 after she fucked you. you felt your core clench upon remembering how warm wonyoung’s hands were, how her fingers felt ramming inside you… god, you wanted it all again. but there was no way she would agree to that, right? knowing wonyoung and the kind of girl that she was, that would be the only time she would fuck you, right?
a pink jacket catches your attention, making you look up from your thighs. jang wonyoung has finally arrived. she was talking to the professor as she sat in her seat, all smiles and giggles as usual. she throws a brief glance over her shoulder, sharp eyes meeting yours. you didn’t miss the way the corner of her mouth lifted up, smirking at you as she eyed you down. you didn’t even know how the fuck she was able to do that within a millisecond of looking at you, but she did it anyway and it only made you squirm in your seat.
oh, how pathetic you were. you’ve been feeling all sorts of things after wonyoung fucked you, but you never knew what to do about them. for now, you just wanted to get through another day of being in wonyoung’s presence despite everything that’s happened. she hasn’t spoken much to you since that day and you doubted that anything was going to change—she’s jang wonyoung after all. you were probably just another hook-up to her, something she’s bound to forget about in a week or so.
(see, that was just all kinds of wrong because right at this moment, all the nosy people who were staring at wonyoung can clearly see how she spared your pitiful figure by the window little glances every other minute with a sly smile on her face. she didn’t make an effort to be discreet. she never does. when jang wonyoung likes something, she is going to let people know—she has to! or else they’ll all just think you’re up for grabs.
no. wonyoung was going to show them only she can really pull all the nice girls in this school. especially you—(y/n) (l/n), the campus’ adorably awkward bookworm who’s very endearingly clumsy despite her well-put appearance. god, how wonyoung had become obsessed with you and you had absolutely no idea.
but it was more than just your character too. for a while now, actually ever since she fucked you, something about you has been bothering her mind. it’s made her unable to stop thinking about you and truthfully, it fucking pissed her off so much that she had to brainstorm a plan, a solution, for it. which became the reason why she was late today. will wonyoung actually execute it? who knows! for now, she can stare at you scribbling on your notes and laugh to herself because she knew, oh she so knew, that every time you paused, shut your eyes, and shook your head—you were thinking about her.)
thankfully, the class ended after another hour and a half. halfway through it all, you got bored and opted to stare out the window. so much so that you didn’t realize class was over until the familiar scent of money and local fame wafted into your nose—wonyoung had walked past you, and she winked at you. you found yourself freezing up in your seat, so fucking pathetic. nobody seemed to notice what wonyoung had just done which was fortunate for you! with bright red cheeks and ears, you packed up our belongings in record time and swiftly power-walked your way out of the classroom.
the attention that was put on you as you walked along the hallways of the building was annoying, for the lack of a better word. it seems like everybody was looking at you as if this was the very first instance of a loser somehow ‘getting’ the popular girl to sleep with her. sometimes, you wish it never happened. as good as it felt, the aftermath was almost not worth it. you’ve heard cruel things being said about you after that day and to save your enrollment, you kept yourself quiet and pretended like you were unaware. except that you weren’t, so every time you make eye contact with someone and they start whispering to their friend or something, it only adds up to that pool of anger that was slowly building up from the pit of your stomach.
still, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame wonyoung for it all. you were part of the act as much as she was but you also can’t say that you brought all this attention and rumors to yourself. you blamed the other girl’s stupid reputation, actually. but it’s not like you can rewind time and make yourself leave that goddamn room when you thought wonyoung was never going to come. there was no point in dwelling on it now. it happened and you have to live with the consequences. being talked about isn’t half as bad as the threat of your scholarship getting revoked anyway.
you were right on the other side of the building when you realized you had no idea where you wanted to go. you just wanted to get out of that classroom, away from wonyoung’s sights so she can’t have you acting up in front of everybody. not that you would actually be able to make stable eye contact with her anyway. naturally, you found yourself marching towards the washroom. you were nearing to the door when you heard a few girls chattering lively.
you entered the washroom and there stood in front of the mirror were kim jiwon and shim jayoon—your acquaintances and wonyoung’s super smart best friends from one of the science programs. they were the last people you wanted to see face-to-face and for good reason! as soon as they saw you, they squealed and grabbed your arm, yanking you to stand in front of the mirror with them. “there’s the woman of the hour!” jiwon teased, lightly pinching your cheek.
“more like woman of the week—literally nobody is shutting up about you! this must feel like heaven.” jayoon nudges your arm, firmly believing that you liked all of the attention you were getting when you really didn’t. you would do anything to be invisible again.
“is this really what it feels like to be popular? i hate it,” you grumbled, earning a sigh from jayoon. “i don’t know how you guys ever manage.”
“you have an outdated opinion about all of this, baby girl! don’t you like having everyone’s eyes on you? now they’ll see how much of a pretty little thing you are—it’s great!” jiwon said. no, she was not very successful in convincing you that this wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened in your academic life so far. but you decided that you wouldn’t fight her on it and instead, stand idly between the two girls while they gossiped and twirled and played with your hair.
you were completely signed off from the conversation; the only thing in your mind was the feeling of wonyoung’s hands in your hair while she kissed you. unconsciously, you touched your lips with your fingers. fuck.
“oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?” jiwon teases.
“hey, don’t blame (y/n)! wonyoung’s a good kisser—i’d miss her lips too,” jayoon sighs dreamily. then she gasps and grips your forearm tightly. “do you want to fuck her again?” she asked with shiny eyes.
“w-what?!”
“where’d you get your information from, jayoon? wonyoung fucked her.”
“oh, right!”
you covered your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”
jayoon forcefully pries your hand off your face, “listen, gaeul-sunbae is having a party next week and we’ll be there with wonyoung! you should come! we’ll make sure to get you guys a room.” jayoon says with a wink. god, they’d let the two of you fuck in a house full of your schoolmates?! that would just add onto your world of troubles.
“i’m not going to any party and i’m never sleeping with wonyoung again, okay? i just—i want this all to end. i hate it when i’m looked at.” you gently wiggled yourself out of the two girls’ hold and once again marched towards the door.
“you shouldn’t have fucked her then.” jayoon says with a shrug as you reach for the handle, making you pause.
“she fucked me.” you corrected your friend before swinging the door open and exiting the washroom.
“yeah jayoon get your facts straight!” you heard jiwon laugh as you bolted out of the washroom. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and glaring at the first person you saw in the hallway. the person in question raised an eyebrow before turning to talk with his friend, eyes lingering on your leaving figure.
gosh, this school was a nightmare.
nevertheless, you survive the long walk back to your classroom without sparing another person a glance. did you bump into people because you absolutely refused to look up? yes! did you care? not at all. it was much, much better than dealing with the scrutiny in everyone’s eyes. apparently, sex was only a problem when the girl who wanted nothing to do with it actually did it. every time you remembered how everyone in the library looked at you after you and wonyoung left that private room, you wanted to scream. literally. all of the negative things that came after the event made you forget about the sweet stuff. like the way wonyoung insisted on driving you home, how she walked you to a bus stop when you refused to ride with her, how she patiently and wordlessly waited for your bus with you, and how she gave you a kiss on the cheek when your bus did arrive.
but what good was having wonyoung’s attention if everybody was also going to look at you, but in a worse light?
you knew it probably wasn’t fair, but you grew a tiny bit of resentment towards the popular girl.
you entered your classroom after a deep breath—eyes glued to the ground and hands hidden under the straps of your backpack. it felt like you were back in high school all over again. this sucked so bad. but unfortunately, getting to your seat was only a bumpy road! all you had to do was not look up and start reading material once you’ve sat down. it should be so easy. of course, fate had other ideas.
wonyoung had bumped into you while walking towards her own seat, forcing you to tear your gaze from the ground to look at her. oh, she was so pretty—no, (y/n)! “sorry.” wonyoung says with a cheeky smile. (she was excited that she finally got you to look at her. and as expected…) you blushed, merely looking away from the other girl before rushing to your seat. you heard a few giggles behind you which only confirmed your suspicions—it was definitely planned. it didn’t help that your cheeks and ears were flushed red… gosh, even your neck felt warm. you know what also didn’t help? how wonyoung’s intense gaze didn’t leave your figure for a while. you could feel her staring at you like you were some piece of meat for her to devour and you weren’t even exaggerating by saying all that!
it was the same kind of look she was giving you right before she kissed you that day. despite your resistance, you met wonyoung’s stare. you noticed that she was surprised to see you raise your head, but it looked like it pleased her more than anything. wonyoung tilts her head and smiles slyly at you while her eyes travel from your hands, your exposed thighs, to your legs… now who knew jang wonyoung could be such a pervert? you squeezed your thighs together, glaring slightly at wonyoung who merely giggled before finally turning around and facing the front.
things like that—wonyoung’s attention, her interest, her affection—were the only good to come out from that hook-up. the rest? the side-eyes, the rumors, the whispers, the unwanted popularity spike? you wanted nothing to do with it. but, again, it wasn’t like you could reverse time.
so, you were going to do what you’ve always been good at: hide yourself to the point of invisibility. it’s never failed you before, and it shouldn’t now.
the only challenge was jang wonyoung herself—will she let you out of her sight?
you didn’t want to think about the most obvious answer. instead, you tried your damned hardest to not think about her at all for the rest of the day. you poured all of your attention to the lectures, the coursework, and the notes. basically anything just to avoid hearing her voice in your head again. at least it wasn’t as bad as the first few days after she fucked you. during those times, you quite literally replayed the entire thing in your head every minute. it wasn’t surprising that you ended up failing a few small quizzes around that time.
when you’ve put every belonging you had in your backpack, you practically rushed to get up from your seat and headed to the door. avoiding every eye that latched onto your figure. you successfully passed wonyoung’s seat without trouble until…
“ah, (y/n)! finally, i can talk to you.”
ms. lim, the professor for your last class of the day, calls you. you turned around with a tight-lipped smile on your face, reluctantly walking closer to the teacher’s desk while most of your classmates walked out of the door. wonyoung was still in the room. she was staring. fuck, why is she always staring?!
“i wanted to thank you for all the help you gave last week for jiyoung’s little… ‘art for amateurs’ club.” ms. lim sighed at the name (she has always hated it but ms. kim jiyoung, her fiancé, loved it too much to change it) and smiled up at you.
“no need for thanks, ma’am. i was passing by the art room that day and i just thought i’d help.” you hear a few people shuffle behind you. more students walking out. a flash of pink walks by behind you. wonyoung. you blinked and smiled at the professor, acting as normal as you could.
“if you don’t mind, i need you to do another favor for me,” ms. lim opens up one of her drawers and carefully takes out a lunch bag from it. the professor smiles sheepishly at you. “i hate to ask my students to do little chores like this. but i’m going to be preoccupied with grading and lesson plans for the rest of the day and that idiot jiyoung forgot to grab her food from me.”
you chuckled lightly, “hard to imagine ms. kim of all people would forget about her food. i’ll take it to her, no worries.” you carefully held the lunch bag in your hands and smiled at your professor.
“thank you, (y/n). she’s been all over the place lately! worrying about this one special pupil of hers that she’s practically begging to put up a piece of her work in the walls of the art building. it’s a whole thing, i won’t bore you about it. run along.” ms. lim waves you off with a laugh. you bowed to the professor before happily exiting the classroom with ms. kim’s lunch bag in hand. when you left the room, you saw that the hallways were still quite full with students lounging about—looks like it wasn’t going to be an easy walk to the fine arts building but oh well.
the first hurdle was squeezing through a crowd of jocks from different teams creating a ruckus in the middle of the hallway. the second struggle was nearly getting picked on by said jocks when they just so happened to notice you sneaking by. thankfully, a nice cheerleader with red hair diverted their attention so you could slip away. it was a quiet and pleasant walk along the school courtyard towards the fine arts building from there, with only the wind and soft rustling of leaves accompanying you.
the building was quiet, save for your own footsteps. usually, the hallways would be filled with sounds of casual chatter and the muffled voices of instructors and students alike. you had to say though, you much rather preferred the silence. it was comforting. you were usually surrounded with a lot of yelling, hollering, and laughing which sometimes wasn’t all that bad but considering everything that’s been happening the fast few days… yeah, this was preferable.
it didn’t take long for you to reach ms. kim’s classroom, and there you were met with a vast empty room littered with half-finished paintings and beautiful illustrations created by the students and ms. kim herself. there was a backpack and a big canvas set near the back of the classroom but you pay it no mind. it was common for students to stay after school hours just to kill time or work on their projects. you put down the lunch bag on ms. kim’s desk, all the more ready to turn around and leave when a particular painting caught your eye.
it wasn’t anything special by any means. in fact, it was buried behind more colorful paintings and you could only see half of it. you approached the painting, looking around the other canvases just to see it in full. it didn’t look finished, but then again maybe that was part of the appeal. the painting was that of an arrangement of beautiful flowers in a jar, they were wilting. or maybe they were just coming to life, looking at the soft streams of sunlight that shone down on them.
regardless, you didn’t have the luxury to analyze the painting any further when you heard shuffling behind you. alarmed, you turned your head quickly and… well, fuck.
“wonyoung…”
the tall girl clad in pinks and blues smiles at you. it wasn’t a very comforting smile.
“the one and only,” well, that sounded familiar. you watched as wonyoung threads the ends of her hair using her dainty little fingers. a smirk dances on her lips while she stares you down, very much liking how she has rendered you speechless with her mere presence. a bit of a dramatic statement but it was true! “how’d you like my work?” wonyoung asked, eyes quickly flickering over to the flower painting behind you.
you followed her stare, but quickly looked back at her in shock. “you painted that?” you gasped.
“you make me sound like i’m just a stupid bimbo,” wonyoung sighs dramatically. “of course, i painted it. would anyone else’s work look as gorgeous?” ‘charming’ as ever, wonyoung flips her hair over her shoulder with a smug look on her pretty face. you turned away, very quickly rolling your eyes before settling them back on the painting. you were impressed. you wouldn’t have guessed that wonyoung of all people would have that kind of talent, but then again, she is one of the class-toppers and nobody knows who she is exactly.
“it’s beautiful.” you admitted. you heard wonyoung chuckle, but she doesn’t say much else. you don’t look back at her, choosing to stare at her painting instead. again, something stopped you from looking further into it. wonyoung stood beside you, briefly looking at her painting with a somber look on her face before quickly covering it up with her usual cheeky, queen bitch smile. it was dead silent. did you even want to speak to her? for two weeks, you’ve resented all the attention that was given to you because of her. you’ve glared at the back of her head, cursed her in your mind whenever some students whispered about you… but somehow, you’re the one who’s tongue-tied now that you were actually alone with her.
it was confusing—feelings, that is. hell, the last real face-to-face interaction you’ve had with her was on that day. when she kissed your cheek before you got on your bus.
“wasn’t expecting you to be here, (y/n),” wonyoung unzips her pink jacket, slowly taking it off before putting it on an empty seat. you watched her from the corner of your eye, she was taking deep breaths and you could hear her. then she fixes her hair and turns around wearing a glowing smile. “but this is just perfect.” she steps towards you and instinctively, you jolted backwards.
“i-i just dropped something off for ms. kim… from ms. lim, i mean. i should get going.” well, it wasn’t going to be easy! what with wonyoung being inside your personal bubble and your heart beating so fast that you can’t quite hear your own thoughts. it didn’t help that she towered over you, and again, her perfume was a fucking weapon—rendering you immobile.
“don’t be like that, (y/n). i’m upset with you.” wonyoung says with a pout. cute, but you really shouldn’t let your stupid crush on her stop you from just getting the hell away! wonyoung was fascinated with the way your eyes wandered. she knew that no matter how angry you were with her, she was always going to have the same effect on you. and it was delicious. being able to have that much of an impact on someone. 
“you never called or texted me. i was waiting, especially after i sent you home,” wonyoung stands even closer and for a second, you actually saw some kind of emotion in her eyes. dissatisfaction, perhaps. “didn’t know you were like that, (y/n).”
“i d-didn’t even think you’d want me to contact you after… after all of that.”
“i wouldn’t have given you my number if i didn’t want you begging for more of me over the phone, dumbass.” wonyoung bumps your shoulder with her own as she walks past you. the way you looked (confused and… so fucking stupid) must’ve made her pissed, judging by the way she started dragging her equipment around with her eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring at you every now and then. you stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. you should really leave. you had things to do at home! this wasn’t a time to waste with someone who was mad at you and someone you were mad with.
all it takes was a period of silence to remind of how much wonyoung affected your life. and suddenly all the anger was back. the longer you stood there and looked at her, the more it boiled up and threatened to tip over. but you were going to be mature. you were going to leave the classroom and go on with your life, leaving it all (wonyoung) behind.
“i have a few ideas on how you can make it up to me though.” wonyoung averts her gaze from the empty canvas in front of her to you.
given the way she was looking at you—or rather, has been looking at you, wonyoung was up to no good. and if you wanted any chance to redeem the little reputation you had in this academy, you had to be strong and not get swayed by her and her pretty little face and those soft lips and that mesmerizing pair of eyes. you shook your head, “i am not fucking with you again, wonyoung.”
the taller girl laughed, “what? did it look like i was going to make you do that? gee, (y/n), it takes one hook-up to corrupt you, huh?” wonyoung laughs, a smirk making its way to her face when she sees you glaring daggers at her. “you’re going to be my muse.” she says, crossing her arms and scanning you up and down. gosh, she didn’t even bother to hide the lust behind her stare… but you could tell that her statement wasn’t a joke.
“you’re… going to paint me?” you asked. wonyoung hums, staring right at you as she pulled her hair up to a ponytail, quietly anticipating your answer while you stood idly by the windows.
“only reason i’m here is because ms. kim has been begging for me to put something of my own up in the hallways. usually i would just refuse but the lady’s been nice to me since i stepped a foot in this school so why not? plus, what’s a better subject than my latest and possibly most popular fling?” wonyoung gives you a very sarcastic smile that makes you roll your eyes. you seriously needed to get out of here.
you were more than ready to leave until you remembered the way wonyoung’s eyes looked when she confronted you about the silence you gave her. then a pang of guilt hits you the more you think about her actions after the two of you hooked up. the walking together, the waiting together, and the kiss on the cheek. maybe attempting to cut her off was a dick move on your part…
“okay.”
wonyoung’s face visibly lights up. adorable.
“where do you want me?” you asked, blushing at the sight of the cute look on her face. all of your activities can wait. you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself knowing that you were potentially hurting someone. albeit unintentionally and the person in question being your best slash worst nightmare.
“just sit in front of me and we’ll figure it out from there.” and so, you and wonyoung get to work. well, of course it was mostly her doing the work while you just sat on a stool and listened carefully to whatever she told you. 
oddly enough, the weight of her stare wasn’t as intimidating or nerve-wracking like it usually was. wonyoung had a certain softness in her eyes as she studied your features closely, and every time you figured that she saw something she liked, something would sparkle behind those beautiful brown eyes. watching wonyoung in what seems to be her natural environment… well, ‘unexpected’ would be the understatement of the year. you figured it would be parties and social clubs and outlet malls but then again, nobody really knew wonyoung.
getting so much as a glimpse of the untouchable popular girl was truly something. and despite everything that’s happened you find yourself feeling the way you did the first time you laid eyes on her on campus during freshman year. awestruck, with your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you desperately tried to look at something that isn’t her but ultimately failing. wonyoung gives you a smile, and it wasn’t her usual cheeky-teasing one. she looked… bashful? and is that a hint of pink on her cheeks?
it was strange to see, but you ended up smiling a little at the sight of a rare cute wonyoung. the tall girl’s cheeks show a deeper shade of pink as soon as your lips curled up in a smile, making you giggle a little. not a lot of words were shared between the two of you after that as wonyoung completely immerses herself in her work. and during that entire time you just stared at her, admiring her focused state. you wondered if she was concerned at all about making a mistake—her hand moved skillfully across the canvas with the attitude of someone that was sure about their abilities. you would hear an occasional tut partnered with a quick hum and followed by a quiet, satisfied laugh, giving you the impression that wonyoung was confident about the picture she was painting of you.
you��ve never been more curious in your life. you wanted to know how wonyoung sees you. it would be from an artist’s perspective but maybe you’ll see even a spot of how wonyoung truly sees you deep inside. especially after everything that has gone down between the two of you, and especially after her reaction to you forcing yourself to forget her existence for two weeks. it’s not like you were looking for any chance of the popular girl returning your feelings, you just wanted to know if you were anything to her at all. maybe you’ll get to know it here.
“(y/n),” wonyoung snaps you back into reality. she beckons you over with a proud look on her face. “come over here. see if you like it.”
soon enough, you were standing beside wonyoung, staring at the most impressive painting in the room. it was you; sitting on that stool wearing a gentle smile, but almost half of your entire form was covered by a slightly see-through curtain and the tiniest streams of sunlight. at first glance, the painting looks incomplete or rather, abruptly finished but it looks perfect in your eyes. and on wonyoung’s eyes too, judging by the way she looked at her own work with approval.
“it’s beautiful, wonyoung.” you said with a grateful smile.
“mhm. it’s y—” wonyoung pauses, and clears her throat. “obviously.” she said, chuckling awkwardly and flipping her hair over her shoulder with less flair than usual. you did not know what the hell that was all about. (“it’s you.” wonyoung wanted to say. but she bit her tongue real quick. why? well, jang wonyoung was not one to try to woo a nerd of all things like that! but really though—it’s you. of course it’s beautiful.)
you were admiring the painting some more and the longer you did, the more you noticed just how many details wonyoung put into it. from the slight crinkle of your eyes while you’re smiling down to that tiny little scar you had on your right cheek. amazing.
“w-wait, you’re going to put this up in this building?” you asked, now blushing wildly. it’s not even that you were embarrassed of having your face put up in the fine hallways of this campus (there have been many instances of your face being plastered everywhere because of your very impressive achievements as an honor student). it’s the fact that wonyoung was involved in all of this that makes it all complicated.
“no.”
surprised, you looked at wonyoung with slightly widened eyes. she worked hard for this painting for the sole reason of putting it up, and now she won’t? maybe she sensed your discomfort at the thought of putting up a painting of you made by wonyoung, which you know would just repeat the never-ending nightmare of being surrounded by rumors all over again. you would ask the tall girl to give you a reason why, but you noticed that she was standing closer to you now, eyes darkened and very much drawing you in.
just like last time.
“for my eyes only.” wonyoung says quietly. she was referring to the painting, sure, but she was looking at you the entire time. the implication makes your face heat up, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to do anything else except to just stand there. obnoxiously close to wonyoung with your eyes constantly flickering up and down from her eyes to her lips. you remember what those lips taste like, how they feel moving against yours. what you would give to feel and taste them all over again.
“i need a break,” wonyoung’s gaze pierces through your own, inviting you in. “don’t you?”
and all it took was the slightest nod of your head for wonyoung to lock your lips in a searing kiss with her own.
god, it felt like your chest collapsed within itself. your hands immediately cup wonyoung’s cheeks, and having learned a few things from the last time you kissed her, you were much, much better at keeping up with her despite your heartbeat running a mile a minute. wonyoung’s own hands were on your hips, pulling you closer until she started undoing the ribbon on your uniform. then, she unbuttoned your shirt, forcing herself out of the kiss and putting her lips on your neck as she did so. it was hard trying to keep yourself quiet with the way wonyoung nibbled and softly sucked on your skin… which was why you just stopped trying.
“ahh… mhm, wonyoung…” your moans were met with a hum from the taller girl, whose kisses now reached your chest.
“you missed me, didn’t you?” wonyoung whispers against your skin, leaving a mark just below your collarbone where she likes it best. she tilts her head up, lips hovering over your own, only touching slightly. “you missed mommy?”
fuck, that was gonna do you in.
too embarrassed to truly admit it all, you nodded, which earned you a pout mixed with a glare from wonyoung. “i’m gonna let that go once. you’re lucky i missed you more.” eventually, you found your waist pressed against a lone desk while wonyoung continues to kiss you. you were topless now, what with wonyoung discarding your white shirt somewhere on the floor.
“w-what if ms. kim comes in…?” you asked when you felt wonyoung’s hand sliding up your thigh. surely she won’t be as careless as last time, right? the two of you were barely hiding! the curtains didn’t leave much to the imagination and the door was only halfway closed… if you weren’t careful with your mouth, some unlucky soul passing by will catch the two of you and you really don’t know if you can handle more of that. maybe you were naive to expect wonyoung to change within two weeks, because right after you asked your stupid little question, wonyoung had pulled down your panties and unclasped your bra from behind. goodness, she works fast.
the tall girl decided not to waste time and completely disregarded your question. “up.” she taps your hip, urging you to sit on top of the desk behind you. as you were getting yourself settled, wonyoung takes the opportunity to stare at you. you were as cute as ever—flushed cheeks, messy hair, lips quivering, and pretty eyes glossy with anticipation, even though you tried to disguise it with uncertainty. wonyoung couldn’t believe how easy it has been to knock down your defenses. she was so sure that even she, the jang wonyoung, was going to get rejected and embarrassed for the very first time in that library, given your reputation as a hardass.
but alas, she always gets what she wants in the end. as she should!
you pull wonyoung closer, eager to feel her lips on yours again. then she allows you to kiss her, doing the same exact thing as last time—staying still and letting you do what you want. wonyoung noticed that your kiss was softer, more careful. you were holding her face so gently, caressing her cheek with your thumb before letting your hands fall to her shoulders, giving the control back to her. it warmed her heart in a way that took her by surprise, but that was nothing compared to the pure amusement she felt when she caught you untying her ribbon.
“you’re brave today, hm?” wonyoung whispered with a smirk. she doesn’t stop you, though! she holds your stare as you let her ribbon drop to the ground, and then you start unbuttoning her shirt so excruciatingly slow. you stopped halfway through, only getting to see a little bit of wonyoung’s crimson red bra before putting your lips on her neck. and finally, for the first time, you heard her whimper.
you couldn’t see it as you were busy kissing her neck, but wonyoung was a blushing mess. she never whimpers! but with your sudden courage and the way you left the softest and sweetest kisses on her neck, wonyoung couldn’t hide it. “are you… marking me up?” wonyoung asked with a giggle.
immediately, you stopped, staring at her with half-widened eyes. “is that okay…?”
wonyoung would’ve called you stupid if the sound of her own loud heartbeat didn’t render her speechless. “don’t tell me you’re going to ask for permission if you so much as want to put your hand on my waist or something.” wonyoung said. she can imagine it clearly in her head, actually! you were too polite for your own good.
“well, consent is important—”
“yeah, yeah. how about you use that pretty mouth of yours for something worth my time, dummy?” wonyoung urges you to kiss her again, craning her neck to give you access. and you did it happily! you were so obviously excited that even wonyoung thought it was endearing, laughing lightly as you gently sucked on her soft skin. you did that for a while. how could you stop, anyway? the mix of wonyoung’s sighs, feeling her thin, dainty fingers smoothly threading your hair, and her other hand laying still on your thigh, squeezing ever so often when you do something she likes… well, suffice to say that it was almost impossible to stop.
leaning back, you stare at your work. the sight of your marks on wonyoung’s neck only made your core buzz, making you not-so-subtly close your legs. wonyoung regains her composure, eyes darkened once again before she forces her legs open, one hand slowly sliding deeper up your inner thighs while the other keeps your legs apart. “since you’ve had your fun… naturally, it’s my turn now, correct?” and of course you were nodding your head eagerly like an obedient pet, just how she likes it.
your breath gets caught in your throat when wonyoung cups one of your breasts in her hand, her face dangerously close to the other one, more than ready to pleasure you. “i was thinking of being nice since i missed you… but you made me upset with your stupid tantrum over the last time we fucked,” wonyoung feigns a smile and a shiver runs down your spine. “so, to truly make it up to me… you’re going to take  everything i’m giving to you today.”
scary. terrifying even, but how could you say no? the (y/n) of two hours ago would be really disappointed of you but fuck it. wonyoung’s got you wrapped around her finger once again and you’re going to let it happen again.
only moans escape your lips as wonyoung’s warm mouth closes around your nipple. a new sensation, and it was wonderful. you found yourself hugging wonyoung’s neck, pushing her face impossibly closer while she licked and sucked as she pleases. your cunt clenches around nothing, and you buck your hips slightly just to urge wonyoung to touch you down there even a little bit but you should’ve expected that she wouldn’t care about that. her hands were rather busy! one played with your other nipple while the other held your thigh in a grip so tight that it almost hurt.
wonyoung releases your nipple from her mouth, her lips now attacking your chest area with little bites. you weren’t opposed to it. in fact, the frustrated look on wonyoung’s face was a delight to see! “should’ve known you were going to be a pussy about it all… wouldn’t have waited up all night for your text if i did.” wonyoung tightens her grip on your thigh, making you wince. but the pain was quickly overshadowed by pleasure as the tall girl pulled on your nipple.
“how was i supposed to accept that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore…? you were screaming my name so sweetly in the library… and i was in your head after all of that, right?” wonyoung briefly lets go of your thigh to pull your hair down, forcing you to meet her eyes. “i know you did… in the end, the campus’ smart goody-two-shoes is just a fucking slut in the making, isn’t she?”
wonyoung’s eyes shine with excitement upon seeing you look at her so desperately. she knew that you’d never take any insult if you were in your right mind… and it only turned her on when you said nothing to her, your head so clouded that you’d allow wonyoung to say anything she wants to you. the tall girl spreads your legs apart, staring at your glistening pussy before her hungry eyes pierce back into your own. “and to think that you wanted to leave when you’re all drenched like this! what would you have done if i let you go? surely not touch yourself,” wonyoung laughs, but it was a cold and mocking one. your cheeks flush with embarrassment since she was right—you can’t bear to touch yourself, which is why you’re so desperate to have her fuck you already. “you need me, and i want a pretty doll i can play with however i like. let’s help each other out, (y/n)-ah.”
wonyoung doesn’t wait for you to say anything (of course she doesn’t) and starts massaging your clit with her thumb. you gasped at the sensation, holding onto her arms and almost closing your legs up. you try to control your sounds this time around, all that left your mouth were the usual pathetic whimpering and panting but at least you weren’t loud! wonyoung didn’t like that, though. she presses her thumb harder against your clit, making you whine loudly. “that’s more like it.” the tall girl muttered under her breath. the longer she pleasured your clit, the sooner you were losing control of yourself. and eventually you were just giving into what your body wants—grinding against wonyoung’s hand, pulling her closer so you can kiss her…
you gasped sharply as wonyoung plunged her two fingers inside your cunt, and she was giggling at how you were wrinkling her shirt up due to how tight you were holding onto her. fuck did it feel good to be filled up. when wonyoung curls her long fingers inside you, you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of alerting anyone who may be lurking around. annoyed, wonyoung swats your hand away, “come on, i don’t want to punish you so early.” none of what she was saying went through to your head. and it wasn’t even because you were trying to be a disobedient brat but because of her pace.
she snaps her wrist with each thrust, enough to make sure that you feel every inch of her fingers inside you before pulling out. it was hard to focus on anything, even more so when wonyoung’s pretty brown eyes were raking all over your body, getting familiar with your features once again. it wasn’t everyday something catches her eye so easily, but when she entered that secluded room in the library and had the luxury of staring at you while you were asleep, she was charmed. not even she thought that she would have you on top of this table merely two weeks later—writhing under her touch and moaning her name, but wonyoung quite liked this outcome.
why, after you were so good for her the first time she fucked you, you’ve been on her mind!
“a-ah..! wonyoung…” your sweet voice snaps the tall girl back to reality. you’ve completely wrapped your arms around her neck now, how precious. wonyoung puts her lips to work, wanting to taste your skin once again. and that she does! giving you kisses from your cheek, to your jawline, to the crook of your neck and all that the way down to your chest. conveniently, the desk was long enough for wonyoung to be able to pull you down so you’d be lying back comfortably. she towers above you, a grin on her lips as she watches you try to hold on to your climax.
it was so glaringly obvious that you were close. with the way your walls clenched around wonyoung’s fingers, a few more thrusts should do it. and that made wonyoung way more upset than you can imagine. there was no way you were going to make this so short, right? but she feels it. not only have you dug your nails on her free wrist trying to hold onto her, you’ve also started whining very loudly. wonyoung, annoyed, wriggles out of your painful hold and shoves her thumb inside your mouth, effectively shutting you up. drool starts dripping down along your jawline—wonyoung wasn’t going to let you off easy judging by how she pressed her thumb flat and hard down on your tongue.
“we’re gonna make this last, baby,” wonyoung says. she sees the tears pooling in your eyes and it only makes her feel warm inside. she was getting so excited to have her way with you, and a few tears wouldn’t stop her. “and everyone’s going to know again. i know you don’t like that but this time… they’ll know you’re mine.”
wonyoung didn’t plan on saying that last part out loud but thankfully enough, you were way too busy moaning her name to even hear it. a knot tightens in your stomach and you gasp, the sensation becoming all too familiar with you now. wonyoung pulls her thumb out of your mouth and slowly slides a third finger inside your cunt—and then there it was.
“aww…” wonyoung cooed as you came all over her hand. but she doesn’t stop any of her movements. instead, she leans down, catching one of your nipples with her mouth and continuing on fingering you through your orgasm.
“f-fuck..! wonyoung, w-wait…!!” you clawed helplessly at her back. amidst your hopeless whining and moaning, wonyoung just giggles. her eyes flicker up to get a brief glance of your face, her own core clenching at how tight you’ve closed your eyes, how you’ve bitten your lower lip to the point of it hurting. she absolutely loved getting to see you undone piece by piece… even more so when you allow it to happen. which is what you finally do as you bury your hands in wonyoung’s hair, pushing her further down your chest and whimpering sweetly at every flick of her tongue on your nipples.
wonyoung wasn’t letting her hand rest, however. she keeps fingering you in a semi-fast pace, hoping to edge you closer to another orgasm. clearly, she was taking advantage of your dazed state and in all honesty, of her own adrenaline-driven state. in her right mind, she would have let you cum the first time and stop there since she knew you can’t handle too much of what she can really give you but god… wonyoung just has to see you fall apart completely under her.
“someone learned a few things from last time, hm?” wonyoung teased as she gently massaged your clit in circles with her thumb. “you’re taking it so well. good.”
you gasped loudly as she plunges her fingers knuckle-deep inside your walls again, now thrusting faster than ever. wonyoung completely gets lost at the feeling of your warmth around her fingers. with her towering above you, she was distracting enough for your mind to wander elsewhere. every so often you’d notice the way she slightly bit her lower lip, whimper quietly, and huff as she fucked you… and as your eyes trail down lower (as low as you could, anyway), you saw that the tall girl had been clenching her thighs together. gods, wonyoung looked so hot being desperate like this.
it made you blush, how much she wanted to feel as good as she was making you feel good. next time, you are going to make sure to return the favor. it was what she deserves, as much of a pain in the ass she was.
“are you okay, (y/n)…?” wonyoung, concerned that you have spaced out, asked. her thrusts have slowed and her eyes are now softer.
you nodded meekly, “yes, mommy.” the nickname slipped out so naturally that it caught wonyoung off guard. and was she… blushing? flustered, even?
(wonyoung wouldn’t even know where to start if someone were to ask about the hold you have on her. it almost sucks that you don’t know about it, but wonyoung’s pride wouldn’t let her admit it outright. not yet, anyway.)
“we’re almost done.” wonyoung regains her composure. she completely pins one of your wrists down with her free hand, the other ramming inside your walls out of control, and her forehead nearly touching yours while you moaned helplessly. with your one hand, you clutched the edge of the desk, refusing to hurt wonyoung any further because you knew you would make her blood had you decided to hold onto her with the way she was abusing your pussy. wonyoung chuckles slightly at how smoothly her fingers went in and out of you—her hand was completely drenched in your cum and wetness. she was practically drooling at the thought of getting to taste you.
wonyoung would rather do it from the source, but she knew you wouldn’t be able to handle her mouth. not at this state. and not with all the things she wants to do to you with her tongue alone.
she feels you clenching around her again, and she watches as tears squeeze out of your eyes. she kisses them away, whispering some comforting words in your ear before she thrusts her fingers knuckle-deep inside you. wonyoung intertwines your fingers since she knew you’d need it as you came all over her hand once again. unlike last time, wonyoung makes sure her hand is still, only pulling out as you’ve started to calm down a little. your eyes wandered all over the ceiling, still trying to get a sense of things. you could feel wonyoung’s eyes on you though, but you couldn’t tell what she was doing.
so ‘surprised’ would be an understatement when you feel her clothed, wet cunt pressed against your knee. wonyoung smiles bashfully as she slightly grinds her clit on your knee. hell, she nearly fucked you into unconsciousness—she shouldn’t have anything to be afraid of doing now. even if she has to become this spectacle for you.
“j-just need to… do something about this.” wonyoung says. her voice was a bit higher from her whines, obviously feeling so good that she can’t help but show this new side of herself. underneath her, you were a bit rattled but completely flustered and quite confused as to what you should do. not that you could do anything, anyway. you couldn’t really feel your legs and your head was still getting itself situated. you were basically watching wonyoung grind herself into you… and it was heaven.
wonyoung meets your stare and grins, “liking the show, babe?” she teased. she giggled when you covered your face with your other hand, you were so red. but you were brazen enough to raise your knee slightly and pressed it against her clit, making her moan out loud for the first time. a smile of satisfaction spreads on your face—you finally heard wonyoung make that kind of sound!
“cheeky little doll.” wonyoung says before leaning down and kissing you. she stops her grinding, having had enough for now and slowly pulls you to sit up, carefully.
much like the last time this happened, nothing much was said afterwards. you were merely hugging wonyoung while you recovered, and you’d smile every time you felt her leave feathery-light kisses across your shoulder and draw random circles on your lower back. wonyoung allowed you to hold her for as long as you needed, never worrying about how the sky has turned orange or the supposed project she was assigned to start today for ms. kim. a gust of wind seeps through the slightly open windows and you shiver. 
finally, wonyoung pulled away. “let’s get you dressed up. ms. kim should be on her way anyway.” she helps you stand on both feet and picks up the random pieces of clothing scattered around the area, almost scolding herself for throwing them around haphazardly. wonyoung was the one who buttons up your shirt, makes sure your skirt is all nice and tidy, ties up your ribbon perfectly, and styles your hair as if it was never a mess. and then she decides that you would look cute with a bit of lip tint—but also because you needed a good excuse to give people if they so happen to ask you why your lips were so red and fucked up.
you stayed still as wonyoung dolled you up. it was strange though, because at this point, she has fucked you three times and you’ve bravely looked at her in the eye then but now you can’t. every time her eyes flicker over to yours, you blink and set them elsewhere. you can’t tell her about how your pussy clenches under her gaze. you can’t tell her that if she does something so simple as this, helping a fellow girl to look presentable, it turns you on. and it probably wasn’t even because nice-and-friendly wonyoung was a rarity! it was because of that damn crush. and how you can still feel her hands all over you but ugh, you’re so tired of coming to that conclusion. 
you get it: you are morbidly obsessed with how wonyoung makes you feel! god, can i be any more pathetic?
“you’ll text me this time, right?” wonyoung asks after she is done. she has also gotten herself look as perfect as she always does. 
“i can’t exactly escape you now, can i?”
“mhm! glad you’re aware of that.” wonyoung puts on an exaggerated smile, but really, she was excited. 
you then pulled out your phone and sent wonyoung a simple ‘hi’ text message. “there. happy?” you mimicked her fake smile.
“ecstatic, actually.” wonyoung replied with a straight face as she stared blankly at your useless message. she saves your number and suddenly snaps a quick photo of you without warning, setting it as her contact photo for you. when you tried to sneak a peek, wonyoung moved away from you with a laugh, and saved your name as ‘dum’ on her phone, even waving it all over your face and laughing even more at your disgruntled reaction. how mature… and endearing.
when silence started to fill the air, you almost wanted to ask wonyoung a few things about this whole… thing. whatever it was. as much as you liked the whole doll talk earlier, you didn’t exactly understand it. were the two of you going to be friends-with-benefits now? well, more like barely-acquaintances-with-benefits. was wonyoung going to make a habit of cornering you at some isolated place and fuck you? because really, you‘d prefer a small warning before she starts using you. confused as you were, you didn’t let a word slip. you just stood there, watching wonyoung as she put up an empty canvas on the easel.
“is it okay if i rest for a bit before leaving?” you asked in a quiet voice. wonyoung nods as she pulls her hair up for a half-ponytail, only briefly looking at your figure as you walk past her to sit on the instructor’s chair at the front of the classroom.
“i’d insist on taking you home but you seem to adore public transportation.” wonyoung quipped from behind her canvas.
“you’d only find some excuse to touch me again in your car so yes, maybe i prefer taking the bus rather than that.” you replied. attempting to avoid thinking about wonyoung’s hands all over you while you sat on the passenger seat of her car was futile, thank goodness she was focused on whatever project she was working on.
“thanks for the idea.” oh you just knew wonyoung had a stupid smile on her face thinking about it all. that pervert!
although you would be lying if you said you weren’t into the idea, but that was something the two of you should save for much, much later.
for the rest of your time there, you merely sat on ms. kim’s chair. sometimes you watched wonyoung even though you couldn’t see much of her face. occasionally, however, she would peek from above the canvas to check on you and you wouldn’t look away like you usually would. you would hold her gaze, smiling softly before gazing at the setting sun outside. the only thing that was on your mind was how everything has changed now. whether it was for the better or for worse, you couldn’t tell yet.
there was no use dwelling on it. you simply have to see where things go. one thing was for sure though: jang wonyoung wasn’t going to be out of your life so easily.
you pondered on that chair for a while before you finally decided to leave. you promised wonyoung that you would text her as soon as you got home, and you knew that even though she barely gave you a glance since she was so focused, she was happy that you promised that. while you headed for the door, you felt wonyoung’s eyes follow you until you were completely gone. but even as you walked through the empty hallways once again the hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you found yourself stopping in your tracks completely on top of a flight of stairs.
“that… really all just happened. again.” you mumbled. ugh, your ears felt hot. your cheeks too. matter of fact, your entire body was just warm.
“what happened?” a chipper voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. ms. kim has suddenly appeared beside you. you hadn’t noticed that she was already there when you turned to the corner.
“o-oh! ms. kim, hello,” you greeted, hand clutching your chest. “ah, right. i dropped off your lunch bag. ms. lim said you forgot it earlier.”
“really? thank you, (y/n). she must be very busy if she couldn’t visit me herself. i’ll make sure to tell her that you did well delivering my food.” the art teacher pats your shoulder. her smile was striking and infectious—no wonder ms. lim always looked so lovesick around her!
“no need. it’s no problem at all,” you glanced at the giant clock on the other side of the wall and felt panic rise from the bottom of your stomach. “my bus should be making its way to the stop now. have a good day, ms. kim!” and so you were off to running as fast as you could to catch your ride, leaving the art teacher baffled but quite amused at the stairs.
“never seen (y/n) a bit loose in the head like that before.”
inside the art room, wonyoung has gotten busy. the tiniest specks of paint decorated her face, her hands had become quite the mess but what mattered was the picture she was creating. she was quite surprised with herself. only earlier did she feel that familiar rush of creating something with efficiency—when she was painting you. she was feeling it again, and it was great. it has been quite some time before she felt that rush. as rich her mind was with concepts, wonyoung found it hard to materialize them in a painting for some reason. maybe she was just lazy. maybe the pictures in her head just weren’t clear enough.
but somehow you of all people—of all things, really—made it all so very clear.
“ah, the things a good pussy does to the human mind.” wonyoung laughs at her own words. she couldn’t wait to bother you all night long later.
“i knew it!”
once again, ms. kim has surprised a student. fortunately enough, wonyoung didn’t make a mistake and only flinched slightly. “hello, ms. kim.” the tall girl greeted. she doesn’t take her eyes off her canvas since she knew that the teacher was already sauntering towards her with that contagious energy she always has.
“wow. i half expected you to be struggling for inspiration as usual but you actually got somewhere!” ms. kim pats wonyoung’s head, very much satisfied at wonyoung’s progress with her work. oddly enough, wonyoung found herself blushing deeply letting ms. kim look at a personal piece from her so freely. not that she gave a fuck about keeping up her reputation even with the teachers, but jang wonyoung was nothing if not so stubbornly prideful.
because no! she cannot bear being teased about painting (y/n) (l/n) for the second time in the same day!
“is that…”
wonyoung’s blush get deeper. here it comes.
“she did say she came by this room… i see!” ms. kim laughs and nudges wonyoung’s arm, teasing the girl as if she was some kid who was having a crush for the first time in her life. incorrect, by the way! because jang wonyoung doesn’t do crushes. 
the art teacher leans back and allows herself to fully take in her student’s work. it was a beautiful painting of you, surrounded by orange and yellow colors, looking lost in thought as you gazed out the window. your face was slightly obscured by the curtain, similar to the previous painting of you that she has done. perhaps a clue as to how wonyoung truly sees you.
“never thought you’d want a muse, wonyoung! but she’s not just that, is she?”
wonyoung settles her palette and paintbrush on an empty stool, exhaling and stretching her sore shoulders. now, she wasn’t the one getting fucked but damn, did you exhaust her too! it was in the good way at least, so wonyoung can’t really be mad at you. with you in her sick little head, wonyoung offers a mischievous smile to her teacher, “my cute little secret is what she is.”
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weirdmarioenemies · 22 hours
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Name: Melon Bug (again)
Debut: Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island
(I wanted to write some more about Melon Bug, and I liked the original post just fine, so this post will be a continuation since that one was so short!)
An isopod! Oh, joyous day! It may not look like one at all with that big ol’ nose, but when it’s rolled up, there is no mistaking it! Here’s a very fun fact: when an isopod curls into a ball, it’s called conglobation! Use that in your everyday lives.
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Melon Bug technically isn’t an enemy, you know the drill, weird Mario friends, that usual thing. When curled up, Yoshi can lick them up and spit them out, defeating enemies they hit! Could this be the first instance of weaponized isopods?
The Player's Guide says "These feisty hoppers transform from bug to melon and back again." Feisty? They're only slightly more feisty than a real pill bug! And a real pill bug has a negative Feistiness Level. I don't think whoever wrote this has played the game, since Melon Bug is harmless! I also don't think they know about real pill bugs, because they clearly can't cogitate conglobation. A bug transforming into a melon? How unrealistic! What do they think this is, Trip World?
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I think "Melon Bug" is a very good name. An incredible name, even! When Melon Bug curls up, it, obviously, resembles a melon, what with both being round with stripes. While real pill bugs don't really have "stripes", their tergites (armor plates) do give a "lined" appearance. If you ask me, Melon Bug could be a good name even for real terrestrial isopods!
What do YOU call pill bugs? I've always called them roly-polies, but they have so many wacky names. Woodlouse? Yeah sure, a bug that lives under wood, why not! Butchy-boy? I don't get it, but it's funny. Then there are all the names comparing them to pigs which I just do not get, but groundhogs also get compared to pigs in common names a lot, so maybe people just don't know pigs as well as they like to think. And THEN! England gave them a bunch of CHEESE-related names. What is happening over there? Are British people somehow making cheese from isopod secretions? Why would you call this creature a CHEESELOG? That's a straight up food! I kind of love this name for them for being so ridiculous! Anyway, my point with all this is that Melon Bug would be more actually fitting than the majority of the common names these have been given, but sometimes it is more fun to be unfitting!
Isn't it weird how Melon Bug's art doesn't quite look like the sprite? Such bulging eyes in the art, but little dots in-game... well, we now know the reason!
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Remember Super Donkey, from the 2020 gigaleak? I feel like it's been far too forgotten for how interesting it is! Anyway, as I mentioned when talking about that game, Melon Bug was originally designed for it! It seems like the Yoshi's Island art was drawn before they decided to shrink its sclerae, and lighten its colors, but after they decided to give it little red shoes.
If you grew up calling roly-polies something else, or if you know fun names from other languages, I would love to hear them! And I hope you love and appreciate these creatures! They are so common and easy to observe, so rather than get jaded to their presence, celebrate them, and you will be able to find delight whenever you turn over a log!
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macgyvermedical · 1 day
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My Experience in Inpatient Psych
So I know a lot of people on here have talked about their experience in inpatient psych facilities, but I'd like to add mine just to give all you writers out there a writer-focused one. It's below the cut just in case you have to sit this one out for your own reasons.
To give you some background, I am 30 years old and have had hallucinations since about 16 and bizarre intrusive thoughts (someone living in my house that wasn't supposed to be there, somebody poisoned my walls, etc...) for about a decade, as well as very severe anxiety since I was about 3 years old. This is something not a lot of people know about me, even people I am friends with IRL.
The only thing I am actually diagnosed with is anxiety, which I'm starting to think is a failing of the psych systems I have been a part of. I have had counseling off and on and prior to this hospitalization I took escitalopram, aripiprazole, and gabapentin prescribed by my primary care doctor- all for the severe anxiety.
Quite frankly, I should have been in inpatient psych at least a few times before this, and it's by sheer dumb luck that I've survived to continue this blog.
On Friday, I was at home alone and made a few pretty bad decisions. I wont say what they were because frankly they're embarrassing, but they have to do with self-harm. I was scheduled to work Saturday and at about 9pm I realized that if I drove myself to work I would crash my car. Since my wife drives me sometimes, I figured I would just ask her to.
I told my wife and she asked- even if she drove me to work, since I was a nurse, would I be able to keep myself safe around insulin or other potentially dangerous drugs? I couldn't answer that question. We talked for a couple hours and came to the conclusion that I probably needed to go to the emergency department.
At this point I figured they would evaluate me and release me because I couldn't possibly meet the criteria for inpatient. I was wrong in this assumption. After telling them the decisions I had made that day, the feelings of wanting to die in a car crash, plus about a previous attempt, they recommended inpatient. Turns out, when you're a nurse, you can make some really bad life choices with the knowledge you have, and they didn't want to take any chances.
I was given paper scrubs to wear (so I couldn't hurt myself with my clothing or a hospital gown). I was also given a patient companion (someone who sits in the room and makes sure you don't hurt yourself).
They gave me the option of signing myself in voluntarily, or putting me on a writ of detention. A writ of detention is a piece of paperwork that allows a medical professional or law enforcement officer to hold someone for 3 days in a psychiatric facility against the person's will for the purposes of psychiatric treatment. Whether you sign the voluntary or get placed on a writ, you cannot sign yourself out. You need to wait until the psychiatrist taking care of you thinks you're ready to go.
I didn't believe at this point I needed to go inpatient, but I took the voluntary option because there are some perks, like being able to leave within 3 days if appropriate. At this point I was convinced I was probably going to have to call off work Saturday and Sunday, probably be out of the hospital Monday, have a few days to rest and be back at work on my next scheduled shift after that, which was Thursday.
Well, that's not what happened.
Because of some of the decisions I had made, along with bed availability, they wanted to keep me in the observation unit overnight before they sent me to psych. I stayed overnight in a unit that shares staff with the unit I work on, so I was taken care of by my coworkers. This was surprisingly not that bad. I like my coworkers and they were really professional about it.
Saturday I felt like I was in a fog all day. I couldn't watch TV. I couldn't color or write. I worked out some in my hospital room and paced the halls once or twice. Mostly I hung out with my wife and occasionally talked with my companion, but even talking was difficult. I had refused ativan because I felt like I had no hope of finding a medication that made me feel better, and I figured I didn't want to take the one medication that might actually work and then not be able to get it ever again.
Around 7PM I took a 45 minute ambulance ride to the facility. Getting my blood pressure taken is a big anxiety trigger for me, but my brain felt so scrambled that I couldn't express this well. They took it every 10 minutes on the ride there and by the time I got there it was in the 170s/100s (BP goes up when you're having severe anxiety). This was not their fault of course, but no matter how much I thought about telling them or refusing the BPs, I just couldn't do it.
When I got to the facility I was greeted by a tech who took my BP again (150s/90s this time), showed me around and looked through my personal belongings (basically just the clothing I came in with since my wife took my phone and wallet knowing I wouldn't be able to have them on the unit) to make sure I didn't have anything I wasn't allowed to on the unit. She showed me around my room and was really thorough with telling me how things worked, what the rules were, etc..
The rules included:
No patients allowed in other patients rooms
No personal belongings that had strings, belts, or laces, or that could be used as a weapon
No caffeine after lunch and no free access to caffeine
No personal electronics (including eReaders and watches). There was a TV in the day room and 2 phones mounted to the wall for patient use
A little later my nurse came into my room and asked me a ton of questions. Here's the thing about any hospital- you get asked the same questions over and over. By the time I'd gotten there I could give my story in under a minute. Or at least, that's what it felt like. There were only 2 clocks on the unit, at the nurses stations.
The unit itself was laid out in a "T" shape. There was a main nurse's station at the place where the two hallways intersected. At the end of the long hallway there was another smaller nurses station, a cafeteria/day room, and a "comfort room" which was a small room off the day room that had a collection of the oldest and worst donated books that have every come together on a bookshelf.
I did some pacing that night and then went to bed, but didn't sleep particularly well.
On Sunday morning the tech woke me up to take my blood pressure, which was, not unsurprisingly, still high. It was about 5 AM so I got up and paced the longer of the corridors for about an hour. Breakfast was served at 8 and the food wasn't that bad. The coffee was about the worst I'd ever drank, which I suppose helped with the no caffeine goals.
Just after breakfast I met with a psychiatrist on an iPad for about half a minute, and I'm not exaggerating there. The only questions he asked were whether I was suicidal and whether I would be fine with tripling my dose of aripiprazole in light of the hallucinations. I had had a 50-lb weight gain in the last year so I asked to switch my med. He switched the med to cariprazine. That was all.
I had a much longer meeting with my nurse later. All the nurses did an excellent job of assessing me, asked tons of questions, and it seemed like they really tried to figure out what was going on. That day I also met with a social worker, and a therapist, and a nurse practitioner. Each of them did an assessment to see what my needs were while I was there.
There was also a music therapy session where I cried my eyes out to Because of You by Kelly Clarkson.
I was really tired by the end of the day but I also didn't think I could sleep so I asked for trazodone. I should clarify that when I say "I" in this piece I really mean my wife convinced me to ask because I legitimately didn't believe I needed or deserved any of the things I asked for at this point. To my utter shock and surprise, they gave me the trazodone.
My first night on trazodone was amazing and I realized I hadn't slept well in a long time. With trazodone I fell asleep and stayed asleep until the blood pressure cart came rolling down the hallway at 5am. The second I got up on Monday morning I was wide awake.
I paced a lot Monday. I went to a goals session in the morning where I gave a goal to write 3/4 of a page. I didn't know if I could do it or what I was even going to write about, but I know I like to write and it might be a reasonable introduction to getting back to life.
I also was having kind of a rough day brain-wise. My brain was coming up with all the ways I could hurt myself in my room. There weren't a lot of them, but it was trying. I told the nurse during her assessment and she asked if I felt I could keep myself safe. I asked her what she would do if I said no. She said they could move me to a more secure part of the unit and give me more supervision. I knew what part of the unit she was talking about, and I didn't want to go there (no space to pace, and pacing was keeping me alive right then). So I told her I could keep myself safe (if anything, the idea of moving was good motivation to do stay safe in itself). I hallucinated some black and white blood cells falling from the ceiling and music coming out of my vents.
I also had another meeting with the social worker to figure out discharge plans. I voiced in the meeting that I wasn't sure that I could trust my wife, since it felt like at the time she was the one who exaggerated my symptoms to get me in here. The social worker said we had really good communication skills, since this was something I felt needed to be said in front of both of them and we both stayed really calm through the whole thing.
I finished the day with an art therapy session that really helped me turn a corner. The prompt was to draw the emotion(s) you felt right now on one side of the paper, and to draw the emotions you wished you could feel on the other side. For the first time I realized that my emotional state was actually really bad and that the suicidality hadn't come out of nowhere, and that I needed help.
When my wife came to visit later that night I was able to tell her about my breakthrough, even though I still felt a little bit like she had done something to get me in here and I still wasn't sure I needed to be inpatient.
Tuesday was a lot better. I felt like I had woken up out of some kind of fog and I had no idea how long I'd been in it. I went to goals group, a spiritual group, and group occupational therapy. My goal was to be more social and I made a friend and we paced together and worked out. I read a quarter of The Martian by Andy Weir (my wife brought it for me because the best thing on the bookshelf was Louis L'Amour). I wrote about how good I suddenly felt. Turns out, I thought, a few days of good sleep, lots of therapy, and a new medication or two will really change things.
A quick side note about The Martian. I highly recommend it to anyone who is chilling in a psych hospital but has the ability to read while they're there (I sure didn't the first few days). I don't really know why, but the first few times I read it, I felt like they had created this superhuman character in Mark Watney just so they could throw a ton of wild things at him for the story. This time reading it, as a suddenly not suicidal person, I realized anyone with Mark's skill would have done the same thing and not just died on Sol 7 to get it over with.
Wednesday I woke up not feeling nearly as good as Tuesday, but still like the fog had lifted. I was a little disappointed (I hallucinated my cat (thanks for coming to visit me, Corina), some spiders, and just felt kinda meh. But I remembered how good I felt the day before, and that really kept me hopeful about going home.
I saw the psychiatrist again and asked to go home. He joked a little about me staying till Christmas, but ultimately he said as soon as his note was in I could go. I ended up leaving at about 12:30 with my wife.
In the time since leaving I have required a lot of support from my wife. The medications are all locked up, so are the blades and anything I could use to hurt myself. My wife has me in eyeshot at all times. I can't drive due to intrusive thoughts, so she does all the driving now. I quit my job because I feel like it was a big part of why I ended up as bad as I was. As someone who has been a pretty independent person this is a big change of pace, but something that is really necessary to my healing.
Ultimately at the end of my hospital stay, I was prescribed escitalopram, gabapentin, trazodone, cariprazine, and then a few days later propranolol. I'm currently on a total of 5 psych meds and honestly I don't care one bit because its so much better than being not on them at this point in my life.
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telvess · 3 days
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Pizza delivery girl
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higuruma hiromi x reader fic, a bit of smut content (nothing extreme, only kissing, touching and inappropriate dialogues). 🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞
wc: 3,390
Big thanks to my @teatreeoilll for correct spelling and supporting me the entire time. You're the best 💕 This fic would never have been written without you!
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He doesn’t even like pizza.
And yet every time he has to do overtime in the dull room he calls an office, all while working cases and overwhelming his mind to the point where he just wants to see the bed, he finds himself thinking of you - the pizza delivery girl - and wondering if he should order another damn pizza. You slip to his mind unannounced once the tiredness takes over and his brain needs stimulation.
Higuruma Hiromi never took himself for a daydreamer, but here he is - imagining scenarios that will never happen with a woman he barely knows.
Ding dong!
Hiromi feels his co-workers' eyes on him when he gets up from his desk, their gazes follow him all the way to the door. As he walks there’s a new spring in his step. It's that time of day.
He opens the door and sees you, the woman who rules his irrational side. You smile at him, freckles clear on your fair skin.
“We meet again,” Hiromi welcomes you, looking at your peach colored hoodie with a print on it that he assumes is the cover of some band’s album.
“I’m starting to think that there’s hidden reason you order from the same place almost every day,” you point out with a smirk. Hiromi likes the way your voice changed over the last few meetings - how it became partly coy and… seductive.
“Well, I'm starting to wonder what are the odds that you're always the one who delivers my orders,” he bites back.
Your smile deepens and with slight shrug you mutter, “Touché.” You hand him over the pizza. “But don’t jump to conclusions. I’m just worried about you”— and your voice lowers to a whisper as you lean closer—“a little birdie told me you’re living here, Higuruma-san.”
Hiromi enjoys the softness in your voice, but for the love of God, don't use this tone when you say his name. You straighten up with a contented smile when you notice him swallow.
“You’re looking more tired every day,” you admit.
It’s not that you're innocent in all this.
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” As you nod the brown hair in your pigtail sways.
“You should take care of yourself before helping others.”
“Tough case,” he tries to shrug it off.
“Yeah, I heard.” Hiromi looks up to see genuine concern in your eyes. Before he can ask, you continue, “I read the papers. You did good job.”
Hiromi wants to say the case it’s far from over, but instead he decides not to; he accepts the compliment with a nod.
“Work goes better on a full stomach,” he says, raising the pizza box to light up the mood. You snort and bite your lower lip.
“Well I’m sure it could go even better if you relieved the pressure here and there.” You massage your shoulders and move them as if you were exhausted. You catch Hiromi a bit off guard with that.
“Well, I”—He rubs his hand over his two-day stubble—“Heh…” He smiles and can’t force himself to look you into eyes, feeling annoying heat spreading over his cheeks.
“No comeback, huh?” He hears you barely holding your laugher. Soon both of you laugh, more or less openly. For a moment Hiromi forgets he's at his office. The burden that weighed upon his mind lately suddenly becomes bearable.
“You know, I was wondering…” He scratches his cheek with a finger. His head is still full of doubts, but the timing feels so right that Hiromi gives in spontaneous impulse.
“About what?” you tilt your head.
“I—” “Excuse me, is this the defense attorney’s office?”
That’s not the right question.
For split of a second Hiromi doesn’t register the man appearing by your side. Then he notices a patch on the man's jacket with the symbol of the courier company.
“Yes, it is,” you say.
“Mr. Higuruma Hiromi?” The man asks and Hiromi confirms with a nod. His eyes are still on you, observing how you smile with what he hopes is some sort of disappointment. You shrug, then wave at him and finally turn away.
Hiromi watches over man’s shoulder how you go down the stairs. One last peek at your ass before the disappointment in his chest slowly builds up. He takes the package, closes the doors and comes back to his desk, too pensive to feel his co-worker's eyes on himself.
“Oh enough already!” Hiromi flinches at the woman's voice. It doesn’t happen often for her to be this angry, especially not at him and not about matters that aren’t work related.
“Why won’t you ask her out already?” She asks, crossing her hands over her chest.
If there’s one thing that Hiromi is grateful for, it’s definitely the ability to keep his cool in stressful situations. Professional habit.
“Why would I?” His voice is drier than when he was thanking the courier for his service.
His co-worker takes a deep breath, then asserts, “Because every time she turns her back you stare at her ass with those sad puppy eyes of yours.”
Is this how criminals feel when they speak to him through the glass windows in the visiting room? Because he definitely feels like one of them caught red-handed.
“There are no puppy eyes. And besides,” he pauses, lacking a counter-argument, “I don’t stare.” It takes one long skeptical gaze to break his façade. “Fine. But I wouldn’t call it staring.”
The co-worker raises her brows.
“Then how would you call it?”
“Admiring?” he mumbles, hoping she doesn’t hear it. His co-worker chuckles from behind her desk. He sighs as he looks at her, and puts the package and pizza box on his desk.
“I don’t think she would decline though.” It was naive of him to assume the conversation was over.
“Don't you have work to do?” He tries to separate himself from her by breaking the line of sight with a book. His tie starts to irritate him, but loosening it up means giving more opening to his co-worker so he lets it choke him.
He hears how her heels knock on the floor as she comes to his desk and lean over to reach the pizza box.
“It’s very unusual to see you like this. I’ve always thought you were a robot when it comes to your personal life,” she takes a piece of margarita.
Hiromi raises eyebrows. The book in his hands drops down.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs.
“You know… very, hmm… economical?”
“Nice save,” he mumbles.
Economical was the last word Hiromi would have used describing his personal life. Not after wasting so much money for a food he never eats.
“So, are you going to ask her out?”
“No,” he says but sounds very disappointed. Damn courier.
“Why not?” She frown.
“It’s complicated—”
“Rubbish! You could sell me that crap at the beginning when the both of you were acting like teenagers. Now”— she snorts—“you basically flirt like normal people do on the third date!” she waves her hands, as if trying to convince an invisible witness. “Except you never went out once and it seems that the two of you would rather die than change that…”
His co-worker takes a bite and looks at him, but this time Hiromi’s facade doesn’t break that easy. He only shrugs.
“Ugh! What’s the matter with you?” she snaps at him. “Have made it a mission to complicate everything in your life?”
“Guilty,” he admits without a blink. There’s no point in denying this. “And you can’t do anything about it. We aren’t at court.”
Hiromi watches as she chew in silence.
“You can have all of it.” He moves the box towards her.
“I know,” she answers. “It isn’t the pizza that’s on your mind.” She takes the box and walks back to her desk. Hiromi knows what she's about to say before she opens her mouth, “But with that attitude you never gonna taste that in your lifespan.”
How vulgar…
Hiromi sits on the couch in his dull living room, with a glass in one hand and a remote in another. He flips through channels, staring at the TV without a hint of interest. When exactly did he become the person who comes back to home and has absolutely no idea what to do with himself? Everything feels like an empty time filler at this point.
Click, click, click…
Hiromi maintains a fast pace, his eyes on the screen, but mind barely present. Drama show, reality talk, an okonomiyaki advertisment… “Our national pizza!” Says a lady with her mouth full. Not the best marketing gimmick, he thinks. But yeah… He could go for a pizza. Today someone has interrupted his little tête-à-tête with you, but maybe it isn’t too late to fix it?
Before he can think it through, his hand reaches for the phone and opens the food app on its own. The pizzeria you work at is marked with a star as the only one in his favorites. Hiromi chooses a margarita, pays in advance, and hopes that your boss has forced you to work overtime today.
And then… what remains to be done? Just wait. But this time sitting in his dull living room doesn’t feel awfully boring. Hiromi finally finds a comfortable spot on his couch. He leans back and puts his feet up on the table, feeling strangely relaxed. As if he has found the missing piece of the puzzle. The advertising marathon has finishes and he watches the beginning of unknown romantic comedy. A pleasant drowsiness slowly befuddles him…
Knock knock!
Oh? Is it already time?
Hiromi gets up from the couch, his body feels dizzy at first but with each step towards the doors it gets more and more tense. Dozens of thoughts run through his head as his hand reaches for the door handle. Will that be you? What should he say? He haven’t thought of any opening line… Now, that’s the lawyer everybody needs, right?
Very slowly he presses down onto the handle and opens the door.
“Hello, your pizza- Oh! Hi, Higuruma-san! What a surprise!” Your expression changes from weary to genuinely happy; Hiromi feels your smile deep in his chest. “So you don’t really live in your office, huh?” You try to take a peek over his shoulder.
“I have to come here from time to time. Otherwise they will start imposing rent at my workplace,” he answers, shrugging.
Your whole chest trembles as you laugh, you have the same hoodie you had afternoon with faces of some band on it. Hiromi catches himself at staring for too long at your chest. It draws your attention.
“Do you like this band?” you ask, pulling the hoodie to stretch the fabric, which reveals a bit of your neckline.
Hiromi finally raises his eyes to meet yours.
“I don’t know them,” he says honestly and, given the cheerfulness in your eyes, you seem to be content with this answer.
“Ah, I see,” you slowly nod. “That’s not what interested you.”
“Nothing gets past you, does it?”
He doesn’t feel too embarrassed when you smile like this at him. Maybe his sad puppy eyes come in handy…
“Now that I caught you red-handed I won’t feel bad telling you something like this -” You smirked, “Don’t be upset, but you don’t look like a guy who likes pizza.”
You would think, huh?
“That’s a bit judgmental,” Hiromi says with unusual sensitivity in his voice that immediately puts you in defensive mode.
“Oh, no! I’m sorry!” You raise your hand in apologetic gesture. “It’s just”—you eye him up and down—“I don’t know, I guess it’s the suit. It makes you look…”
“Pompous?” he slips watching you struggle to find the right word.
“No!” you quickly deny. Too quickly. “I mean… well, kinda.” You gave up.
“Ouch.”
Hiromi has never heard you giggle before, but he could definitely get used to it. He couldn’t explain the phenomenon that makes him seek for your reaction - any reactions, really - but the idea of closing the doors right now and not getting more out of you seemed awful.
“Do you ever take it off?” you ask pointing at his loosened tie and wrinkled dress shirt.
I could for you, he thinks to his own surprise.
“Well, I was waiting for the pizza,” he reminds.
“Right. Can’t collect your order in pyjamas.” And you laugh again, which causes a rush of heat in his belly and bellow. Cursed thoughts suddenly take him to very inappropriate places where you tell him about the band printed on your hoodie as you take it off. He wonders what color of bra you wear. The white one would suit you - in his modest opinion.
“You weren’t wrong though.” He breaks himself out of the trance. “I don’t like pizza." After all the orders he made for the past few weeks.
You blink at his words, definitely not as surprised as he thought you were going to be. In fact, your reaction tells him that you knew and have played along this entire time.
“Then why did you order so many of them?” you ask, a soft smile forming on your lips.
“I was ordering you,” he finds himself saying. The moment the first word left his lips, Hiromi felt in his guts it was a bad idea, but the rest of the sentence left his lips anyway, leaving sweet-sour flavor on the top of his tongue.
He watches your eyes widen for a second, and your lips part - then close - then open again as you try to say something back, but your mind can’t find the right words.
Well, this is it then…
A lonely “oh” slips quietly out of your mouth.
Oh?
“Well, you are my last stop today.” Your rosy cheeks rise up as you smile. “Why don’t you invite me in?”
For a moment the world stops.
“Are you sure?” The lower parts of Hiromi call him an idiot, but the lower parts have never been in charge. Biting his tongue wasn’t an option.
Sudden embarrassment takes over as you look sideways and as both of you wonder about the simple “should I or should I not?” You smile and Hiromi smiles as well.
“Do you think my boss can sue me once he finds out that I’ve made him lose a regular customer?” You break the silence. Hiromi watches at the corners of your lips twitch, then raises his eyes at yours.
“Why do you assume I won’t order any more pizza in the future?” You shrug.
“Why would you if you can just call me instead?”
“So you can have nice break at work,” he answers. This is enough to make you burst out laughing.
“I see you've thought everything through carefully.”
“I only try to keep you here as long as I can.”
You make a step towards him, standing on the threshold. Much, much, much closer than usually. Hiromi could smell your perfume, but he mostly focuses on the soft smile you give him.
“Well, can’t deny it isn’t working. Lemme in,” you whisper, fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt as you speak.
Once Hiromi opens the doors wide for you to come in and you cross the threshold, letting the pizza box fall on the ground, making you giggle again. Hiromi presses you against the doors, his hands finally on your waists, fingers tightened to feel you under the fabric of hoodie.
You are the one who closes the gap between your lips. Your smell stupefies Hiromi as you kiss him without hesitation, shamelessly penetrating his mouth with your tongue. Your fingers slide right under his collar, slowly moving around his nape, tickling his skin and sending shivers down his spine. Hiromi feels dizzy from the excess of stimuli.
“Tell me about this band,” he says once you two break away to catch a breath.
“I know only one song…” you mutter, too focused on undoing buttons of his dress shirt to give the song name. “It was an accident. I spotted the hoodie on the sale. L—Liked the color. Later found out it’s them,” you babble.
The feeling of your fingers exploring his bare chest and belly is blend of disconcerting relief and irritation. He waited for this moment for so long that now, when he finally has you, the touch of fingers isn’t enough to meet his expectations.
You place a kiss on his chin but before you can reach higher, Hiromi’s mouth is on your neck. One hand wraps around your waists, pulling you closer to him, yet still not close enough in his opinion. He wishes he could absorb you. He wants to feel the heat coming from your skin and your heartbeat quickening.
The other hand finds your buttcheek and squeezes it hard. The moan that escapes your lips is like long-awaited music in his ear. Hiromi can’t help himself and bites your earlobe to get more reactions out of you. And when that stops being enough, he starts sucking your neck and giving you hickeys while his hands roam freely all over your body, finding their way under the hoodie.
Considering how your fingers have made big mess out of his haircut and how now they dig deep into his shoulders, he assumes he's doing a good job so far.
“These damn legs of yours,” he mumbles into your ear while lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around him.
Hiromi carries you to the couch where he takes off your hoodie together with the work uniform underneath it. Your sports bra is black, and nicely molds itself to your breasts. He can see your perky nipples through the fabric at which his erection grows larger.
You pull him towards you by tugging on his tie. Very soon your bra ends up on the floor as well when Hiromi places himself above you. The way he cups his hands around your breasts, squeezing your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, puts your dirty needs to another level.
“I’ve been waited for so long to feel them,” Hiromi whispers right before your face, a hair's length away from touching your lips. His voice is so quiet you have a problem hearing him. “You’re blushing,” he notices, making you look away and mutter an embarrassed “shatap”.
“Better hurry up and suck them,” you pout at him, you have hard time talking at this point, your throat dry and voice distorted by hoarseness.
Hiromi’s smirk gets bigger.
“It’s nice to know you want it as bad as I do,” he says before leaning over.
DING DONG.
Hiromi opens his eyes. At first he doesn’t even recognize his own apartment, the view from the couch is downright unrealistic. With his swollen eyes he looks for any sign of yours presence, because even if he knows you weren’t here, his mind doesn’t want to give up. Not yet. He can’t help it, his professional tendency to hope for the best and be ready for the worst speaks through him.
But the longer he stares at his empty apartment and the longer he can’t find any part of the clothes that he just took off of you, the more and more the disappointing reality seeps through his mind.
Ding dong…
Oh, right - the doorbell. He looks at the door, then at the bulge in his pants, sighing at the bitter unfinished business. What one pizza delivery girl can do to a man who doesn’t even like pizza…
He slowly gets up, massaging his sore nape that the couch header have gave him as he approaches the door. A doubtful thought on the back on his head whispers to him that he may see you behind it - with your high-tied ponytail, a hoodie and unearthly legs - and that his dream have been prelude to the main event.
Hiromi opens the door and sees the most average looking stranger.
Yeah, he thinks, taking the pizza and mumbling thanks, life isn’t that pretty, is it? He doesn't think about covering himself or even feel embarrassed about it. There’s just pure disappointed in his heart and an annoying tightness in his boxers.
He closes the door. What a shame it wasn’t you.
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there is a possibility that a second part will be written. thanks for reading!
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scorpioriesling · 3 days
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Enchanted
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Rhysand x reader
Warnings: fluff
Summary: Every birthday girl makes a wish... yours has been the same for years. One you began to doubt would ever come true; but what happens when it does?
SR’s Note: I am honestly giggling and kicking my feet over this one, and lately Rhys hasn't even been my favorite... I don't care. I like how this turned out. Based on Enchanted by Taylor Swift, of course. Enjoy (:
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Everything about the final day of Autumn was as it usually was; the cool sun bathing the Velaris cobblestone in light, the crisp breeze ruffling your hair, causing you to pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders. Even the townsfolk presented the same familiar faces you’d seen nearly every day now on your way to the public library.
Today was a treat; the day before your birthday, of course. The first day of the Winter season would mark the day of your birth, and usually you’d spend the day before spoiling yourself as you’d usually end up having to work on said birthday. This year, it was no different.
That is, before two large Illyrian warriors donning seven gleaming siphons each landed right in the middle of the square, their enormous bat wings spread wide. The townspeople, as well as yourself, whirled in shock at the sight. After straightening, the taller one (Cassian? You thought?) cleared his throat.
“Greetings, Velaris,” he said, voice echoing down every corridor and alleyway around you. Every wide-eyed fae stared back in awe as he looked from person to person.
“As you know, the High Lord will be having his annual Winter Ball tomorrow evening,” he continued. You’d known; it was an annual tradition. One you’d always ended up working as the bakery your parents owned supplied the delicacies for the event.
“…andddd this year, the High Lord has made it very clear that the celebration is to be extended.” He coughs. Gasps and murmurs begin around you, and you glance side to side as chatter begins.
“The ballroom cannot accommodate all of Velaris; so only a select few will be receiving invitations.” The spymaster calmly cuts in, and the chattering crowd around you stops. All eyes return to the pair in the middle of the street.
“The festivities are to be celebrated here in the city, though, should you not attend the ball,” Cassian fumbles. His brother raises his eyebrows, releasing a breath and gazing at the crowd once more.
“If you’re to be invited; you should expect to receive an invitation in your mailbox by this afternoon.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
You practically jumped on the mail man when he approached your drive, scaring him half to death as his letters tumbled from his hands.
“I’m so sorry! I’m, um… just, really hoping something came for me today.” You laugh sheepishly as he thrusts a pile of letters into your hands.
“Yeah, you and every other female in Velaris.” He continues on his route with a hmmph, and you begin anxiously thumbing through the letters.
You almost trip when you finally make it back into your small flat, sitting at the kitchen table. Your hand shakes as you get to the last envelope in the pile, only one elegant word written across the front of it.
Y/N.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
“I don’t know if that’s the right… I don’t know, color?” Your best friend eyes you in the mirror, and you twist to one side, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
“Maybe not. I don’t know, it’s just not quite… right.” She says, the statement only a repetition of how your morning’s been going. You’ve spent the entire morning trying to find a gown for the ball tonight, but every single one you’ve tried just isn’t quite… the one.
You let out a frustrated sigh, and your friend / shop owner flits toward a wall of dresses, brushing through them once more.
“I feel like I’ve tried on a million,” you say. She returns just a moment later, a lovely steel silver gown in hand. You raise your brows at her.
“Yes, but, it’d be dress one million and one that might catch the High Lord’s attention.” You can’t help but blush, turning from her. It was no secret you found the High Lord of the Night Court quite intriguing; Gods, half of Prythian did.
She tsked at you and shooed you towards the dressing chamber, only for you to reappear a moment later in the gown. She didn’t hide back the gasp, or stunned expression on her face as you approached the mirror to look yourself.
“Oh come now, it can’t be…” But, it was. Seeing it in the reflection, you understood her reaction a little more. You were breathtaking; this one. It had to be this one.
You spend a good few minutes twirling, admiring the gown hugging you in all the right places. You finally glance down at the price tag, and your heart sinks. It was way too expensive.
“I don’t think I can…” You say. Your friend shakes her head, leading you back to the dressing room to change.
“Nonsense.” She says. You stare at her, a blank expression on your face.
“I can’t afford it.” You say. She only winks at you before shutting the chamber curtain, allowing you privacy.
“Consider it a birthday gift!”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
You'd never been to one of these before; not coming from a wealthy family, or even being High Fae yourself, there was never any reason to attend such an event held by Night Court royalty.
Yet, here you stood. In front of the polished black gate, separating you from the awaiting festivities inside.
"Uhh.. miss?" You turn, to see another guest had silently approached at your side. "Are you going in?"
You nod. "Yes! Yes, I'm sorry if I held you up-" He shakes his head, a small smile offerred to you as the gates open and he steps beyond. He looks over his shoulder to you.
"No worries... but, I think it's beginning soon?" You hear the groaning of the iron bars and quickly step inside, keeping in step with this new aquiantence. You politely converse until you've reached the main building, and females in lovely gowns pass by you. You nervously look around; maybe you should've prepared better for this.
"I'll see you around," with a small wave, your company stalks off toward a group of males he seems to know. You sigh, taking in the beauty around you. The gleaming faelights, all of the attendees meandering around you, the scent of jasmine in the air-
"I personally want to thank you all for your attendance tonight," you hear, and the room is instantly filled with silence. All eyes are peering toward the front of the room, and the crowd shuffles together to hear the speaker more clearly. You try and get a good look, but you can't really see over everyone's heads.
"I haven't had one of these events in a while where I get to invite our court's friends to join us, and as this marks the first night of Winter," the voice drawls. It sounds lovely, as though it was coming from a cello - deep and smooth. Not like the sounds from Azriel or Cassian, but this one was much different.
"...we are very happy you're all here. So, let the dancing commence!" And with that, the crowd is in a frenzy, chattering and partnering off for the first dance of the evening. Your cheeks heat in embarassment as you realize you have no one to dance with, and you recede towards the stone wall to hide in the shadows for this one. You feel a light hand on your elbow, and you whirl around to come face-to-face with the kind male from earlier.
"I don't have a partner either..." He says, his cheeks flushing rosey-pink. You give him a soft smile, your embarassment fading with every passing second.
"I'd love to dance with you." You slide your hand into his and pull him to the middle of the crowd, just as the music begins. His hand rests on your lower back, the cold metal ring on his finger sending a chill up your spine. You suck in a breath as he pulls you closer to his chest.
"Is this... alright?" He asks. You nod, resting your free hand on his shoulder. Now that you're close to him, you get a better view of his face; his sharp jaw, auburn freckles dusting over his nose. His sultry amber eyes that match the flaming locks upon his head; he truly is beautiful.
But not the reason you came tonight.
He engages in polite conversation as you continue the waltz, asking you about yourself, laughing and making light jokes with you inbetween the spinning and dipping as the music intensifies. You laugh with him, appreciating him more and more by the minute. When he's turned you around, his back to the dias at the head of the room, you swear you meet those violet eyes, staring right back at you. Maybe you're just thinking wishfully, maybe... maybe he is just looking at everyone, but he looked irritated, besides the sweet sentiment he'd made before.
You have to look away, your partner realizing you're staring.
"Is, everything okay?" He politely asks you. You nod, reassuring him everything was. But it wasn't. You were living in this moment; the music, the liveliness of the room, the way you were pushed so close with this male's hand on your waist-
But it still wasn't who you wanted.
You wanted him.
His hands on you. Your body against him. His eyes looking into yours.
You felt like a fool for thinking that coming here would change anything for you.
"I, uhm," your partner fumbles for words to distract you. "I didn't catch your name?" He asks. You meet his gaze, smiling again at him. You knew the High Lord wouldn't need or want you, so you may as well make the most of your night while it lasts.
"Y/N," you reply. He grins.
"What a lovely name," he tucks a flyaway tendril of hair behind your ear, eyes catching when it is exposed. He immediately sees it is rounded; and shame courses through you again as you know he is High Fae.
He clears his throat. "What a beautiful name," he reiterates. "...for a beautiful girl." You can't help but blush at his words, this male is laying the flirting on you thick. Doing quite well at that, too.
"Why thank you," you say, voice feeling small. You didn't register that the song had already changed, your bodies abseltmindedly falling into rhythm as you continue to sway with the music.
"I should probably relieve you from me," he says, dipping his head and huffing a small smirk. "Had I known who you were, I would have let you dance with someone else. I'm sure Rhys will have my ass for this anyway," he concludes. You furrow a brow, as the song engages in the final chorus.
"Whatever do you mean?" You ask. He opens his mouth to answer, but clapping erupts and conversations get too loud around you. What was he even talking about? You'd never met the High Lord, not officially, anyway. Maybe in passing, but there was nothing there.
Suddenly the room feels too small, too warm, his hand on your back feels like fire and you feel like you are sweating. You could pass out, you just needed a minute to breathe and get out of this crowded room.
"I have to um," you shout, over the loud conversing around you. "I need a breath of air!" You say. He nods, and pulls you close, hands still holding yours.
"Do you want me to come with you?" He politely asks. You lean back, meeting his eyes and shake your head.
"I'll be fine!" You say loudly. He nods, and you lean up and kiss his cheek. "I'll find you later?" You say, and he grins at you. What a cutie.
You search for an exit, clammy hands brushing the sides of your skirts. You find an open doorway, and travel down a side hall that leads to an unmarked door. Chest tight, you open it -- revealing the most wonderful sight you've ever seen.
You step out onto the stone terrace, walking all the way to the railed edge to get the best view. You let out a gasp; you can see all of Velaris from here. Soft music echoes from beyond, and you watch as a single shooting star stretches across the sky.
"This is, my favorite place to see the whole city too." You turn abruptly, not realizing someone had followed you. You stare in shock as Rhysand leans against the open doorway, arms folded, and one ankle crossed over the other. You immediately get embarassed again, remembering this is his building and his terrace and you were out here without permission-
"No need to worry, darling." He strides over to you, and you feel a tiny tickling inside your head. Your fingers brush your temple on instinct, and you remember that he could in fact see what you were thinking.
"Enjoying the ball?" He asks, his silky tenor causing your attempt to clear your mind to fail. You huff, turning back to the city beyond. He puts his hands on the balcony railing next to you, one hand nearly brushing yours.
"Oh! Um... yes. Yes I have been." Your mind flashes to the dances you'd shared with the readhead, how he held you, and how you'd wished it was Rhys the whole time...
Clear your mind, Cauldron! He could easily see what you were thinking.
"That's... great." His sudden clipped tone had you side-eyeing him. The night seemed to radiate off of him, the onyx crown atop his head gleaming in the moonlight. He was definately intimidating, but you remembered what your new friend said. Did you even catch his name? No. You were too focused on the High Lord, though this other man was nothing but nice to you.
Cauldron, boil you.
"Can I ask you something?" You say. He angles his head to you, a small smirk pulling the corner of his lips up.
"You'd like to know why I asked you here tonight?" He answers. You gape at him, and he chuckles, the sound like soft rain outside an open window.
"How did you-" You begin, and he turns to you, a hand tracing his knucles down the side of your face. You flush at the contact, as this was something you'd only ever hope for in a dream.
"This... is something we can work on later." He looks at the top of your head, the idea of mind shielding grazing your brain.
Has he been inside your head this whole time?
You almost feel violated; if it was anyone but him, you'd tell them to leave you be. But... you couldn't. He was finally here, with you -- but, you can't help from a little bit of your attitude peeking through.
"If you wanted me here so damn bad, whatever the reason may be," you start, pulling back an inch from his touch. His brows raise in amusement. "Why were you pouting about in there? I didn't even see you dance once." You finish. His gaze softens, and his free hand brushes yours on the railing. The hand that once grazed your cheek is now gliding down your arm, tracing over every inch of exposed skin.
"The partner I wanted was already taken." He answers lowly. You don't miss the way his eyes darken a bit, and you bite the inside of your cheek hard to try and stop from freaking out and dissolving into a puddle right then and there.
"Well..." You begin, taking one step closer to him. The soft scent of sea salt and nectarines graces your nose -- of course, one of your favorites. His gaze stays locked on you, drinking in every inch of you with his eyes.
"I'm not now." You say, as confidently as you can muster. His lips twist, trying to supress the huge smile he eventually allows to take over his face. You can't help but smile back; his gorgeous features only more enticing up close. His hand slips around the curve of your waist, pulling you in closer. Your breath catches, as his other hand guides your idle ones to his neck.
"I've waited much too long for this," he says. You are sure you look like a tomato; there was no way he was fawning over you like this. The way you'd done, every night in your room; every day in Velaris, constant reminders of him all over the city; every year when you'd use your bithday wish just to see him, just once -- and there he would be, waltzing into your parents shop before the ball as if he wasn't reducing you to mush each time.
"I'm not very good," he admits with a small laugh. You don't know what the hell comes over you, but you don't allow him enough time to read your mind before the words are spilling out-
"I don't need good. I need you." You take the lead, swaying to the distant music from the walls beyond and streets below, and he only follows. Its his turn to feel flattered, as his hands gently trail up and down your waist. You try your best to keep from shaking in excitement; but it isn't long before you see another star flying across the sky. He glances in your line of sight, grinning and letting one hand go of you. He takes the gleaming onyx crown off his head, replacing it atop yours, tucked behind the brained crown near the top.
You stare at him wide eyed as he pulls your body flush with his, leaning in to whisper, "I'm enchanted to finally meet you," as his soft lips lightly graze the shell of your ear. You can't help but let out a small chuckle, not knowing if you are going to cry or not. You could; you'd only wished for this very thing for years and years.
"You truly are a princess," he drawls on, fingers tracing your jaw lightly. His gaze flicks to the star trailing across the sky, and back to you once more. "One that still needs to make her birthday wish."
Your hands play with the soft hair near the nape of his neck, eyes loving the way he practically wills your mouth to his. It's like there is a thread, a rope connecting the two of you, and he is using his end to pull you closer, closer...
He finally kisses you, softly cupping your jaw as your hands slide down his chest. Pressed against him like this, that rope feels more like a threat tied so tight, golden aura coming from deep within you at the scene around you. He slowly pulls back, eyes searching yours for reassurance. You only reach up and swipe a tear away from his cheek, the new feeling connecting the two of you reassurance enough.
"I don't have one this year; it has already come true."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
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tuesday again 4/30/2024
most annoying book i've read so far this year under the jump
listening
a lovely polyrhythmic instrumental piece with previously-featured tuesdaysong artist, terrifying master of the cello, abel selaocoe. this is very textured and kind of scrubs at the inside of my skull in a pleasing way. like the kind of back scrubber you can buy with a bamboo handle and the long soft bristles. popped up on my recent releases playlist from spotify.
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reading
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really fucking pissed about this book and i am not able to be reasonable about it. i was really thrown, much like the fantasy prince's mother from her carriage as she was being chased by regency gossip reporters, that this was a prince harry/meghan markle RPF AU. i am a bit uncomfy about the fact that our female lead, the fantasy AU meghan markle, is some flavor of fantasy Gaelic instead of fantasy mixed-race. now, i have no particular moral or physical beef with RPF but i don't typically seek it out. but/also/and, much like works about marilyn monroe, i think works with the specter of princess diana are in poor taste. can we leave these women alone maybe
i got about halfway through the book before this revelation and didn't really feel like it succeeded at much of anything it was trying to do. oddly informal and choppy, like it was originally intended as a contemporary romance with some urban magic and changed to regency in a late draft. this is combined with some fairly weak prose: more simple sentence structure than i would expect in a book for young adults, far too many proper nouns, and a lack of interest in showing not telling.
i straight up don't understand why the leads are attracted to each other if she keeps making very public mistakes and he's a rude cunt. i have read other books (most recently the t kingfisher books) where someone grows to love a very gruff or taciturn man, but it takes time and mutual trust and an effort on both sides, none of which happen here. the core conflict is duty to family in all its various forms vs the heart wants what the heart wants. the conflict is not much of a conflict, though, because characters come to realizations within three sentences of confronting them and then vocalize them with therapyspeak. someone literally pats someone else's hand and goes, "It's hard, I know." the author mercifully did not describe the sad little pursed sympathy mouth but i'm sure it was there.
i'm also deeply annoyed with how this author chose to go about characterization. while the character concepts are people i would love to meet in a ttrpg, it feels very concerned about Good Representation and it makes everyone feel very wooden. i think when you put together characters from a list of various oppressions and disabilities it starts feeling like a grownup version of a children’s ensemble show meant to sell little blind box figurines. here is the Chronically Ill one, and her color is pink! here is the Addicted one, and his color is green! here is the Goth and Depressed one, and her color is black with some bones! here is the Gay one who was once badly hurt by the Addicted one, and we don’t care enough about him to give him a color! here is the superficially fantasy-Jewish one, and we don’t care enough about her to give her a color or an action figure either!
while normally i would love to read a book with two! TWO! canonically bisexual leads of different genders! this book is written for the "folx" spectrum of gays instead of the "fags" part of the spectrum and it strays very close to a modern morality tale for me.
this popped up on a list of books with bi leads i think, but if it was here or on libby i cannot remember.
anyway! fucking hated this one.
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pleasantly surprised these came in back to back off my holds lists, bc they are about the perfumer Grace and Grace's former landlord, the spy Marguerite. my favorite of these Saint of Steel series is still the one with the werebear nun. i have nothing to complain about these books and not much to say about them either. they were such a delightful and competent change of pace after the annoyance of the previously discussed book.
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oh i loved these. oh i LOOOOOOVED these. how the fuck does novik do it. she is so good at capturing the very specific feel of a grandpa military historical novel. except with dragons. i love these in the same way i know i will love the patrick o'brien books if i ever get around to reading them. i was a navy brat and unfortunately this is fucking catnip to me. truly i have inherited all my father's tastes
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watching
largely fallow week. i don't have anything particularly great to say about The Bad Batch, but when have i ever. have not caught up with dunmeishi bc my siblings have once again inadvertently locked me out of the netflix account i pay for. considering a vpn for many reasons but watching netflix and watching porn (the state of texas does not want me or anyone else to watch porn within her borders) are the two big reasons for. idk. cashing out the paltry cash-back credit card rewards and coughing them up for a vpn. vpn opinions welcomed, i know most of them are straight garbage
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playing
i straight up ran out of money in genshin, which is pretty hard to do since they're pretty generous with it? i have spent several million in-game currency on leveling up neuvilette (i am so so so happy to not have to collect any fucking starfish mats for him anymore [mats are different materials you have to collect or buy in-game in order to level up a character. very grindy most of the time]). anyway i am now scrabbling around for the last couple chests and puzzles i marked on my map in fontaine. i haven't bothered with grinding for his specific boosting artifacts or leveling up his talents all the way yet but this is really not shabby. i have the bad habit of completely levelling up all my 5-stars and then ignoring them until i need them for a specific fight or a specific level of the monthly..battle royale puzzle? i don't really know how to describe the abyss. anyway when i do eventually need his pretty intense water AOE attacks i will frantically grind for his talent mats. right now we're grinding for other things thanks
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this latest update contains both the best and worst new areas so far. the underwater lost city of Remuria is a fuckin banger. gorgeous. incredible puzzles. very fun music-based quest line with new abilities and giant whale. however, im kind of disappointed by the new coastline area in the map: there is pretty much nothing there. almost no interactable plants to harvest, very few enemies, almost no chests. i get that they are focusing their time and attention on the new underwater area everyone will be focusing on (killer, btw, super dense and great use of vertical space). very lore-heavy expansion, sort of what if atlantis was a bit roman-inspired and also. hold on. wait a second.
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sorry this has just occurred to me at 10:21 PM on Monday night as im drafting this but oh my god are the fucking fontanians the Sea Peoples of the bronze age collapse. this is hysterically funny lore if true. im going to have to go back and reread a lot of the environmental storytelling notes but oh my GOD that's extremely funny if true. genshin has some of the most batshit lore of any game ive ever played and im so sad that so few game journos are focusing on it.
where was i. leveling up characters in legally-not-france who may or may not be descendants of the sea peoples. i often find myself leveling up characters in genshin not based on how useful they are to the party but by how fun the bosses i need to fight for their mats are? for example: neuvilette is a water-based AOE character with not a lot of on-field time. however this big electric seahorse, whose antlers i need to level him up, is really fun to fight and i can knock it out in about thirty seconds.
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making
my sister's birthday is tomorrow! my birthday package to her was kind of heavy on stupid little trinkets and art books and not very much like. homemade? so i cranked out a little sampler. it's framed i promise i simply forgot to take a picture of it framed. about 3"x3", slightly adapted from a piece in Julie Jackson's Subversive Cross Stitch. i do think the F and C turned out way better (or at least the backstitching stands out way more) but hey. sometimes you need to hastily stitch a gift with the limited colors you have on hand
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fallenclan · 15 hours
Text
Pebblefreeze & Human Drabble
by Dragon Anon
"Another newcomer, ey?" Human jolted at the sound of a gravelly voice. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the grey she-cat approach. Well, mostly grey. Her tail was a brilliant reddish color, standing out starkly against her pelt. 
"Ah, hello," Human murmured uncertainly. The she-cat grinned, as if delighted only to be acknowledged. 
"I'm Pebblefreeze," she mrrowed.
"How'd you get a name like that?" Human tilted his head, gaze sweeping over the cotton-pelted 'Pebblefreeze' once more. 
"It's a warrior name."
"Oh, I know about that. Thistleskip taught me. I just mean... you look more like a 'Pebbleflame' to me."
Human flinched back when the she-cat let out a growl, only to realize she was laughing a few seconds later. "Pebbleflame! Ha! If only Maplestar had thought of that one."
"Maplestar?" 
"He was our clan's leader back when I was a 'paw." 
"Ah."
"..."
"What?"
"You never told me your name, silly."
"Oh, uh! I'm Human."
"...and how'd you get a name like that?"
...
"This is my dad, Evie," Pebblefreeze purred. "And the cat cuddling with him is Crowflame."
"We are not cuddling, Pebblefreeeze," Crowflame hissed. "It's drafty in this den. Maybe if the apprentices had actually done their job and brought back those goose feathers..."
"I seem to remember a certain apprentice getting bit by a goose once..." Evie hummed thoughtfully. "Who was that again?"
"Be quiet, Evie."
"Blizzardfang always had delightful stories about your apprentice days..."
"Evie," Crowflame growled.
"Stop teasing him, dad." Pebblefreeze sat down, shaking her head solemnly. "You're only reminding him of a traumatic childhood event. Truly, quite insensitive of you."
Crowflame snorted, rolling to his paws and stomping out of the elders' den, although Human thought he heard the tom mutter something along the lines of "I'm too old for this."
"Anyway," Evie yawned, shifting to his paws. "Who's this?"
"I'm Human," Human replied quickly. It still felt surreal to him that so many clan cats actually knew their parents. Had grown up with them. Human could barely remember his own mother's face, let alone her name. Idly, he wondered if Pebblefreeze had siblings too. 
"Hi, Human. I'm dad," Evie replied nonchalantly.
"Pebblefreeze already introduced you," a tawny-spotted cat rasped, slinking forward from the back of the den. Human started. There were so many cats in FallenClan, he could hardly keep track of them. "I'm Mothspots."
"Hi." Human ducked his head, feeling a bit timid. 
"My sister's around here somewhere too..." Pebblefreeze murmured thoughtfully, glancing around the den. "I think."
"Willowsplash and Bub went out on a walk, actually. You're welcome to wait for them in here, if you want. I'm sure I could tell Human plenty of stories about your kittenhood..."
"Oh, please do!" Pebblefreeze chortled. "Sit down, Human. You'll love this."
...
"What happened to Hopethistle?"
"What?"
"Sorry. I mean, your dad mentioned her being Cherrystar's sister. I, uh, know about Cherrystar's sudden death, given how it happened pretty recently before I joined the clan. I haven't heard anything about Hopethistle, though."
"She died a long time ago." Pebblefreeze shrugged, gaze growing distant for a few moments before refocusing on Human. "We don't actually know what happened. Just... found her dead one day."
"Oh. I'm sorry." Human grimaced, feeling suddenly ashamed for asking.
"Don't be. Like I said, it was a long time ago. I was a lot more troublesome back then."
"More so than you are now?" The words were out of Human's mouth before he could stop them, and he felt a pang of alarm. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"Ha ha! So you do have some fire in you after all! C'mon, why don't I show you where Hopethistle and I used to sneak off to together? We used to drive our mentors crazy."
" . . . all right."
...
"Rah! I'm the strongest warrior ever!" Frozenkit yowled, bounding across camp in a few long strides. "Surrender or die!"
"Guess I'll have to surrender then," Pebblefreeze grinned, dramatically falling to her side. "Please, be merciful!"
"Nuh uh! I'll protect you, momma," Tempestkit yowled, tackling Frozenkit. Human took a worried step forward, but Pebblefreeze shot him an amused glance. He sat down again. 
A few pawsteps away, Tinykit looked up from a snail he had been observing all morning with Palekit. "Watch it! You could break his shell if you fall on him," Palekit hissed. 
"What shell--hey! Frozenkit, you hit my eye!" 
Human shot an imploring gaze at Pebblefreeze, and this time she nodded in confirmation. Stepping forward, the tom gently detangled his kits. "Are you all right, Tempestkit?
"Mhm," she sniffled slightly. "I'm tough."
"Sorry, Tempest," Frozenkit peered at her sister. "It was an accident."
"It's okay."
"Why don't we all go find a nice spot and curl up, and I can tell you kits a story about the twolegplace?" Human rumbled. 
"Can I stay out here with Palekit?" Tinykit asked.
"I can stay out here and watch him," Pebblefreeze hummed casually. 
"Thank you. You really don't mind-?"
"I don't," Pebblefreeze chuckled. "Go on, but make sure it's an exciting story or they'll be demanding I tell them a different one later."
"Of course," Human purred. With a contented sigh, the tom swept up Frozenkit and Tempestkit with his tail, letting his daughters ride on his back as he padded towards the nursery.
Pebblefreeze rested her chin on her paws, hoping that Bluefern and Newtscar were watching, wherever they might be.
-🐉 (pebblefreeze & human drabble.)
(beetle note: YOU NEVER MISSSSSS THIS IS SO GOOD!!! i love the exploration of pebblefreeze and human's friendship,,,, theyre the silliest)
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thedeviltohisangel · 15 hours
Note
I hope we get an interlude abut the boys “vacation” in Africa since it’s longest (?) Cass and John would be apart since meeting so you know he’s driving the boys crazy talking about her and he won’t shut up until he sees her and the only reason he shuts up then is because he’s too busy kissing her
Ok so a little interlude about what Cass gets up to during this mission, a little bit about what John gets up to and their reunion is here.
I think my favorite part of the Africa mission is going to be him meeting her brother, Bobby.
She gives John a present and some letters and an updated photo of herself to give her brother and he takes the task so seriously. And Gale is like then why are you meeting her brother while you're in a fez?
But that is exactly how John meets his future brother-in-law for the first time. And he tells all the guys it's no big deal and he's got it in the bag and they're like then why are you sweating?
And Bobby does his best to be intimidating. But the last time he saw his sister she was crying because he was getting to escape and do something bigger with his life and she was stuck getting shoved into dresses and dragged around like a lifeless doll by Sidney Landry.
And when John speaks about Cass he can tell he worships her. He is smiling and blushing and hands him the gift like he's just delivered the Ark of the Covenant. And he reads the letter Cass has included and she tells Bobby that she thinks, no she scratches it out and rewrites it then crosses it out again, KNOWS that she loves him. And she prays her brother will too because John Egan has brought the color back to her cheeks and makes her giggle and she has never felt safer than she does in his arms.
Bobby asks around about John Egan and his sister. And the men groan and complain that they are lovesick doves just could stare into each other's eyes and just drift around the world happily. They tell him about John punching the RAF Pilot for even daring to mention her. Tell him about the sleep mumbling of his love.
About the way he held her after Berlin and how he brings her flowers every day.
So the last night in Africa, John summons the courage to ask Bobby if they can talk away from the group.
"I love your sister, Lieutenant Colonel Cooper. I've told her I'm in love with her. Told her I will protect her and provide for her as long as this universe will allow me to. She gives me a reason to live. A reason to fight for tomorrow and every day after because I want all the time in the world to be with her. I can never promise her forever but I can promise her my forever and I...I want to marry Cassandra when the time is right, sir. If that happens before I can meet your father, I'd like to have your blessing."
"My father, John, has been praying for a long time that a man like you would ask for his blessing to marry my sister." Cass had always been a wild thing. Mr. Cooper had been delighted with the way she challenged her mother. But he had lost the battle of preserving her independence any further than the turn of her twenties had brought. "I don't want to take that honor from him but I also want my sister to be happy. She deserves it more than anyone."
"I'll marry her everyday, sir. Your father will get the chance to give me his blessing. I promise."
"You have my blessing, Major. Just promise me you'll never try to cage her." John smiles blissfully.
"There is nothing about her I'd ever want to change."
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warcorrespondence · 18 hours
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You've probably seen that post that goes around, you know the one: It's all fun and games in hbowar until you want to see two women have a conversation.
Well, @mercurygray/mercurygray set out to fix that. The Darkening Sky is full of women having conversations about real things.
fandom: band of brothers
pairing: Dick Winters/OC
mature, 220612 words
This epic asks the question: what would it be like if women went to war with Easy Company? No, but really though?
There are a lot of OCs, and a personal challenge I have with reading OCs is that I already love the canon characters. So for me, OCs have more work to do in fanfic than they do in novels, because they have to shoulder aside my blorbos. (This is me - there are a lot of OC writers and readers in this fandom and bravo to you all! I’m simply explaining a barrier I have). 
But fairly quickly, they established themselves, and over not too long a time, I grew to love them.
The main relationship is between Joan Warren, niece of General Pershing and society gal of Nixon’s ilk, and Dick Winters - she’s flirtier than he is, and more outspoken, but just as driven and in essence just as private. It takes them A WHILE to get going, because it would - these are two serious people with serious things to do, and they take love seriously too.
And all right, I’m just going to put it out there - was it a challenge, as a card-carrying winnix girlie, to hop on board that train? 
…not really? 
It helps that Nix ships it (which, like everything here, is shown and not told, and with delightful subtlety). It helps that Joan is awesome, a fully-fleshed out character with flaws and frustrations, narrative drive as well as personal drive. It helps that this is just another world where the Nix-Dick friendship didn’t develop that way, from Toccoa onward. There is no "We'll go to Chicago, I’ll take you there." It’s not what happens. 
(This fic also doesn't straightwash - there's not a ton of focus on m/m or f/f relationships, but they're there).
But Joan and Dick, much as I love to read about them, are not the only focus of the story. POV shifts all the time, sometimes to Shifty, sometimes to minor characters like Aldbourne residents or land girls, and we get an idea of what the war is like for them, as well as their perspective on Easy Company in all its camaraderie and complexity. 
It probably goes without saying that in a fandom full of heavily researched fics, Merc’s stands out as being the most meticulous. She knows her shit, and I knew that going in. But there’s a difference between throwing in facts and details for the sake of it, and doing it to further the experience of the reader. I felt like I learned things, but never like I was being taken to school - when I learned something it was because I was gaining context about a beloved character or understanding more about how the world would work for women in these circumstances. And they don't all have the same experience! Life for Lieutenant Joan Warren, reluctant media darling, is very different than it is for Sergeants Billie Mitchell or Marj Gordon (just to name a couple of my favorites).
These women never stop being women, and being treated that way, for better or worse (often worse). And there's something heartbreakingly frustrating but also beautiful about that.
Marj’s new haircut looked good on her - Doris wasn’t proud of a whole lot, these days, but any time she caught sight of Marj with her helmet off she had to smile. I did that. And she looks damn good. Marj’s honey-colored pageboy was starting to get a little long at the edges, but only enough to make Doris regret not bringing her scissors so she could do everyone else’s. Her fellow sergeant looked…free, without the hair, released from some burden of responsibility to look like she belonged somewhere else and might well be there soon. Why didn’t we do that earlier? Doris wondered to herself. It’s a war, not a beauty pageant. We’re not winning awards.  Because we’re still women, and we still want beauty. Because it’s hard to change something like that.  Because we all want to go right back to the way it was when this is over - even if we know we can’t. The way it was. The phrase made Doris want to laugh. They weren’t those women and men any more, the kids who’d arrived at Toccoa, and it was foolish to think they might be. Look at any of them, bruised and scarred - look at Marj! And even if they hadn’t changed, the people at home would have. (Look at Marj, again - and fuck Allen, while they were looking.)
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iero · 2 years
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Is it me, is it me that brings you down? 
GREAT PARTY by Frank Iero and the Future Violents
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egophiliac · 8 months
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just thinking about hair and faces
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front-facing-pokemon · 9 months
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oozeandgoo-art · 15 days
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#oc#haven#rex#monochrome#contents: a little raunchy for tumblr#doodle#really high effort one but it's about the shapes more than anything else lol#meme redraw#comic#i may color this. the original plan was to color it. however i spent all my energy for coloring on drawing an aftermath coda#im fond of this one. there's a lot happening in it#haven and rex are both dressed "up'' to annoy the other's plus-one minor enemy#<- specific au element#rex is wearing a weezer shirt because haven knows that'll piss off taran. haven is dressed up like rex's best attempt at a mid-00s surfer#because he knows felyx cant fucking stand haven and is also into buff masc dudes dressed in jeans with rhinestones and thinks it'll be funn#to put felyx in the Lustful Colander#(he is right)#haven's house is not actually a cool neat influencer home or whatever there's no like open floorplan white walls light bamboo floor bullshi#going on here. it's all like green and red granite tile and shit. the man has been around for a very long time he knows what kind of decor#he's fond of. those ARE fish tanks in the walls though. and a spiral staircase#the man has been around for a very long time. he does not give a shit if what he likes is 'tacky'#also when the one speechbubble he says gets weird it is because he is using a magic power and forcing rex to put his cigarette out. rex is#naturally kind of annoyed about this. it used to make haven wince when he put his cigs out on his hands so he keeps doing it every time thi#happens but he has not yet cottoned on to the fact that haven has fully stopped wincing and now just thinks it's a normal habit he has#and has no idea that it's specifically aimed in his direction#also haven has no issue with giving head but rex isn't aware of that. they don't communicate well#and what Rex is actually aware of mostly consists of 'asking him to bottom turned into a giant argument and then a physical actual fight#and he broke my jaw in like four places over it and it was awesome but i didnt get what i wanted' and kind of gave up on the subject#he couldve been getting his d!ck sucked this whole time and he didnt know it. so sad#lineart
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voskhozhdeniye · 3 months
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november-rising · 6 months
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The Color Blue: I love it and may read too much into it
Earlier, I was at work doing, you know, working-like things and my mind decided to flash to this scene:
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I watched Season Two, Episode Eight (Bolognese) and Episode Nine (Omelette) again and questions. Many fantastic folks have shared commentaries and metas about the imagery, the symbolism, the soundtrack, the cinematography - everything!(@thoughtfulchaos773, @unladyboss, @gingerylangylang1979 are just the few that hit. I'm sorry if I missed anyone. I'm sure I did. This fandom is too creative and intuitive for me to keep up with!)
And my okey-doke foolish self is wondering: "okay but why am I seeing this image of Sydney changing in the same dim, dark blue sexy lighting as Carmy being intimate with Claire?"
(Side note: DAMN that opening intimate scene in Omelette got me into and applauding Carmen. Get your sensuality on!!!!)
This above scene was sliced in with Carmy making dinner for Claire in episode eight. Then, as I said, the next episode opens with the mood lighting. Like...huh? I mean, really? These two women, similar lighting, personal moments? What is happening?
But then we are cut to Carmen's panic attack. The world we are shown is in cooler blue tones as he's zoomed in on i that back alley.
Those in the flashbacks that are in warmer colors/tones are taunting, patronizing, and disregarding of Carmen.
Throughout all of this, when Carmen is cut back to in cooler hues, who else do we see filmed in such a light? Sydney.
To cap it all off, the immediate scene after Carmen settles and smiles is of Sydney approaching the almost completed Bear, her saturation (is that a term? is that a film term thing or am i making words up to sound smart-ish?) is in the same paler, calmer blue.
We also see this blue hue in the BOH during the final episode as Carmen starts spiraling. As he shouts for a re-fire, Sydney holds him accountable and he actually takes a breath. He stops, sees her, and apologizes. He tried to manage his emotions.
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(I couldn't find the gif or such where you see Sydney telling him to cool it out before he actually listens to her. If anyone can send me that, I'd appreciate it!)
I tried to be more aware while watching this episode in particular and I noticed that, when Carmy is trapped in his own making - I mean trapped in the walk-in, he's filmed in a clear blue tone.
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To my untrained eye, in this picture, the deeper blue transitioning into something lighter is significant. Is this a way to show intimacy? To show Carmen connecting back with his personal like? Him finding a way to process it? HECK! This color scheme showed itself when he met Claire in the grocery store. Does this color palette represent Carmen being faced with having a personal life? To be around others who want to see him can be daunting yet muted and depressing.
Too many thoughts I'm trying to express HOURS after my original thought all the while fighting off going to sleep.
To wrap this whole thing up on a random note, this song from way back in my high school emo days came to mind. I seems to fit our boy Carmen.
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Goodnight.
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volivolition · 5 days
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I say this in the most loving way possible, how the fuck can you write the most expressive and magical tags ever?? How do you have the mental energy to form words? 50% I can only say "nice post op". You inspire me to spread positivity to everyone but I literally can't be this positive and kind all the time. Just want to send you love and know that I appreciate you <3
HKJGH AW RED!! :'] <3 it does take a lot of energy, i understand :'0 i keep a lot of cool art in my tumblr drafts. the art stays in there until i have energy to type all my thoughts out. a lot of things stay stuck in there… i try to make sure art from my friends get out soon though :0 don't feel bad if you can't type a lot!! anything you can manage is okay! no one can be positive and kind all the time, and that's normal! just do what you can. i promise it's enough. (<- these are things i need to remind myself too <3)
a lot of it is literally just me needing to scream hkjfh, i have a lot of thoughts and i love sharing them always. i love rambling, can you tell? (<- joke) also i have a lot of love to give and i love artists and their creations. like WOW someone made a thing!! and they wanted to share it with the world!! AND I GET TO SEE IT!!! i GOTTA tell them i enjoy it!!!!!
it's also my empathy acting up because im also an artist!! and he's like "hey!! you love people writing nice tags on *your* art!! imagine if you were this artist, wouldn't you be happy to see someone tagging it with nice things? :)!" and im like yeah!! if this makes me happy, i should make other people happy too :3
ANYWAY I APPRECIATE YOU TOO RED YOU'RE DEAR TO ME!! SENDING LOVE BACK!!!! <33
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