#This drawing could be a little personal...

[canisalbus]

I've only known about your art for a little less than a year but I think it will forever leave an impact on me. Your style and designs and imagery. Even if at some point I move on from your blog, tumblr, internet, there will be times when I'll fondly remember this one person who would draw gay anthro dogs. You are unforgettable. Thank you.

Auh, that's too kind ;_;

I'm honored you think so highly of what I do! Thank you so much!

#lately I've been pretty focused on making only the kind of stuff I feel close to #things that feel good and natural to draw #which right now (as you've probably noticed) is just endless Vasco and Machete #and while it's fun and satisfying it also makes me feel a little guilty about being self-centered sometimes #it means the world to me to hear my creations resonate with someone out there and people seem to genuinely care about my dog guys #even if they might be somewhat niche and personal in nature and I'm not doing anything special with them #maybe that's just the way I see it though I could be overthinking things it's late and I've had one of them emotional days #answered #kruncher

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part four max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

"Hey, hey. It's ok." The man who you were unable to recognize tried to comfort you. "You're safe. You're okay." The blurry figure assured, gently pulling your hand that was covering your mouth and the other that was clutched to your chest in his hands.

"See, you're ok." His soft voice assured, his thumbs gently running over your knuckles to show you you were ok. You kept your blurry, tear-filled eyes on your hands, watching him turn your hands palm up and slowly count your fingers. "1, 2, 3," you quietly counted with him till your breaths evened and the ground stopped spinning.

"Do you know where you're staying?" He asked, gently wiping your cheeks and eyes dry. You shook your head no. "You don't know?" He was so gentle with you as if you were made of glass, brushing your hair from your eyes. You shook your head, grabbing his sleeve when he stepped back. You don't know why you did.

"You don't want to be alone?" The man asked further and you nodded hesitantly. You were too busy looking at the concrete floor to see Max's eyes soften and return your hesitant nod. The dutch had no idea what to do but he knew that he couldn't just leave you like this after someone tried to drag you away.

He was glad he found himself at the same club as you the night of the Monaco Grand Prix, celebrating the race. If he wasn't keeping an eye on you here and there, he wouldn't have noticed that the random guy who you'd made friends with was crossing some boundaries.

He'd jumped in and pushed the guy off and pulled you somewhere safe before anything could happen. And now he was carrying your sleeping body as he walked into his apartment building, struggling with the elevator and keys but he'd rather let you sleep.

When you woke up, it took a few seconds for your memories to click back. You'd let a stranger carry you, and you're assuming you're in his home. What confused you the most was the feeling that this person wasn't a stranger. Almost as if it was your Amilian. But that was impossible, Amilian isn't in Monaco. It must've been someone who sounds or talks like him.

Sitting up in the clearly expensive bed, you looked around the room. The blinds were drawn leaving slithers of light fighting to enter though the gap at the bottom. Your headache came crashing as if someone had hit you straight with a mallet. But you couldn't let that stop you, you had bigger issues to deal with.

Where are you? Whose house are you in? Should you greet this unknown person? Or should you just change and run for the front door? If you find the door.

And what are you wearing?! How'd you get into this?

You furrowed your eyes as you looked down at the Red Bull shirt, clearly confused because you for sure had worn a dress and the stiletto sandals you were excited about.

Your mind raced for a few minutes as you looked around the clearly owned-by-a-male room, trying to figure out the next steps. You could've very much been standing in the dark room for 30 minutes if the noise at the door didn't catch your attention.

Cracking the door to the bedroom, you found a cat looking back up at you just as scared and confused by your presence as you were. But this was a cat, that was a definite green flag. With the little courage you had, you stepped outside the room to search or scope or whatever. You had no idea what you were doing. But you had to at least draw a map, no?

A guy was definitely living here alone. His gaming setup had its own space with no traces of femininity. A woman wouldn't be too happy with such a huge gaming setup that would probably take all his attention. Three screens that are literally curved with a mini Red Bull fridge?

Not even you wanted a guy who probably spends all his time on his screens. But it was a cool set up for sure. Setting the cat down you took a closer look at the cockpit-like setup. This guy must've been a huge F1 fan because even had a replica of . . . Max's trophy. Oh.

"Sassy! That's not food! Well it is food— but not for you." You heard who you were dreading yet praying for call as he chased the other cat. Jimmy (you’re assuming), the other cat who was rubbing into your ankles, abandoned you in favour of his father. Who'd froze in his spot like a statue upon seeing you stare back just as awkwardly.

The two of you could've been standing there like statues for hours as far as you know. You were in deep internal shock, trying to process the fact that you were unable to break eye contact with the three time world champion that you take time to watch on your TV every weekend and were standing in his apartment. In his Red Bull shirt that he probably never takes off!

Holy shit! He was the one comforting you last night! He saw you all crying and weak and— you felt so embarrassed! So anxious! You could probably run out if you had the strength to cut eye contact.

Max on the other hand was praying that you didn't notice his heating face. When he asked his sister to help him help you get into something comfortable, he did not expect Victoria to put you in his team shirt that looks way too good on you. He wanted you to keep it on and wear it everyday.

"Did you?" you asked quietly, pointing to the shirt, silently asking if he changed you. The blond shook his head quickly, setting his cat down. 

"M-my sister was here so I asked her. If that's okay. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable." He clarified, scratching the back of his neck. You nodded briefly in thanks. The awkward silence dawned again.

He cut the silence the second time. "I was making breakfast." He cleared his throat, pointing to the kitchen. "I'm trying to make your favourite," He would tell you but Max Verstappen doesn't know your favourite food. He's not Amilian right now. He's the athlete you've been slowly growing fond of. He shouldn't have known you exist. But he does.

"I'm allergic to peanuts." You mumble and Max was so close to answering with "i know", instead he just nodded and told you he didn't possess any in the flat. You followed him to the kitchen seeing the half mess he had caused trying to gather ingredients. 

"Crepes." He muttered, looking through the online recipe. You purse your lips in thought, looking at the eggs, flour and vanilla (?) he was trying to collect.

"Can I?" You pointed to the kitchen and Max nodded, gesturing that it was all yours.

"Please." You took a deep breath looking around before starting to gather and mix while Max fed the two cats. "Wait 2 eggs?" The blond questioned, watching you crack a second. You nodded, with a little smile showing him the batter. "Oh, yeah. That makes sense." He nodded, looking in the bowl with a pause. ". . . Is it obvious that I have no idea what's going on?" You tried to hold in a chuckle at his confused expression.

"Kinda." You shrugged going back to adjusting the batter.

You'd soon enough relaxed around the man, seeing the soft and sunny side he really was all about. You found yourself cracking a smile or a giggle each time he made a little joke or comment, warming up to him.

You ate the crepes standing at the kitchen island with the blueberries he washed for you. You felt warm in this space, petting the cat that lazed on the counter for your head scratches. Never in your life did you imagine standing and eating crepes with Max in his apartment, wearing his shirt and no pants. You never even imagined breathing in the same room as him, but here you were.

Max felt the same way. His heart was beating so fast and he was scared his irises had turned into heart shaped from how much he was admiring and staring at you. You were so beautiful and calm with such an aura he would think you were an angel.

And to him you were. You are an angel. A gift. It might have taken some ice breaking, but you made Max feel human and normal. You made him feel as happy and sunny as when he's Amilian. Only now, he didn't want to go back to being Amilian.

Max didn't mention anything, he wanted things to stay as it was right now, playfully pushing you as you tried to do the dishes and push him away. The tug of war (more like push of war) lasted a few minutes with you winning and sending Max off.

It was 15 minutes later after Max freshened up did he find you playing with Sassy and cuddling with Jimmy, waving the stringed feather so the cat could chase while the other happily sat in your warm stomach. Your giggles and laughter were music to his ears. He felt so giddy just by seeing your smile, the same one he's been imagining for years now lighting up his world brighter than the sun and all the stars in the sky.

He didn't want to interrupt you. He wanted to keep you away from time so he could keep you, and spend time and have fun with you. He didn't want to let you go. He'd feel empty now that he got a taste of you. Max gently sat beside you, scratching Jimmy on your belly. You blushed watching him.

"You know, they've never been so comfortable with other people." He says looking into your eyes. You felt yourself blush deeper, looking between his two sapphire eyes. 

"I'm kind of a cat whisperer." you joke, pulling a smile and giggle from Max. The two of you looked into each other's eyes for a little, enjoying the moment.

"I really like you, Y/n. Maybe we can spend time like this again in the future?"

You were taken aback by the request. The question of how he knew your name long drifted from your brain, leaving a big smile and blush on your face as you nodded. 

credits to the lovely @classiclitfreak as always <3

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾ #🐈 ﹒wired in? ﹐♫ #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen #max #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula racing #mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 fic #mv33 fic #max x reader #max x you #f1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one

[sugar-grigri]

Comedy in CSM is the most important thing to analyze

I accept that the last arc can be read as comic, but you have to push the analysis further; every situation, every comic spring, pursues a theme: identity.

While it had been raised, questioned, it's in this arc that Fujimoto announces that this time we're in the dissection phase.

Denji is accompanied by characters of different narrative rank to enable this operation: a former enemy (still current, but belonging to part 1), a current enemy (introduced in part 2), a potential lover, a guy who idolizes part of his identity, and someone a little more out of touch with everything that's going on.

Everything is there to talk about identity, from the fact that Asa's high-school girl outfit is an advantage for going unnoticed, to the fact that she's stumbling.

Because this way of portraying Asa isn't the right one, since she's a teenager who's always resisted fitting in at her high school.

The guillotine is not insignificant either. It's not to be analyzed as something innocuous - there were plenty of potential demons - but Fujimoto chose ultra-symbolism.

For the guillotine has been manipulated by men of all political persuasions, and is also the symbol of a France seeking to redefine itself.

Above all, it's a symbol of a changing world.

And the rules of the world into which the characters fit are changing.

Fami's struggle against death is one of the first cogs in this change.

Stripping the guards of their clothing is also a way of removing their authority through their uniforms.

The high school girls' uniforms, on the other hand, had the advantage of symbolizing innocence and candor, and of not drawing attention to themselves.

The guards' uniforms contained their authority, so undressing them is enough.

Finding Denji cut up also heralds what's to come, as all the characters help him to literally rebuild his life.

If Asa learns who Chainsaw Man is from Denji's severed head, it's also Fujimoto's way of punishing his main characters.

Asa had always conceived of Chainsaw Man as an evil symbol, a demon for whom she felt no respect or consideration.

So, presenting her with a severed head is always reminiscent of the guillotine: the guilty party's head, presented to the people.

Because Chainsaw Man, before being a hero, is a culprit.

Just as the greatest revolutionaries glorified by the early revolutionaries ended up on the guillotine.

Above all, Fujimoto punishes Denji, because Denji's dream, the only thing he had about his identity - the power to reveal himself - has been taken away from him.

Denji didn't present himself, he was presented as a hunted beast

If Yoru and Katana Man are trying to help Chainsaw Man, it's because without the bloody, invincible enemy that is Chainsaw Man, they lose their objective.

The way they both present themselves from the start is through a desire for revenge

If the beast that would allow them to savor this vengeance is not in state, then all falls away.

What you're witnessing is not a humorous transition arc, but a pause in the work's own narrative.

Because its main character no longer accepts pretending to be Chainsaw Man

So the work stops and starts again from the beginning

What does Denji want to eat?

And what could he have eaten already?

The most obvious response to a Denji who refuses to rebuild himself as the person he used to be, and to whom he no longer wishes to resemble, is to grant him what he desires, since what defines this life before is precisely the fact that he doesn't get what he wants, that he stagnates, and that everything is denied to him, even his own identity.

Sex is something Denji is banking on, basing all his hopes on, since what he's experiencing doesn't please him, so surely the answer must lie in what he hasn't experienced, right? His reasoning is as simple as that. If sex is the foundation of existence, then it also settles existential problems.

It's a disillusionment, an obsession for a teenager, who has been denied the status of child so much and is now obsessed with this """"passage to adulthood"""" because everything would make everything so much more coherent.

Sex is also an element of incessant blackmail, but one for which Denji is willing to put himself at risk because it's his only hope, yet another unknown physical sensation, yet another need to be satisfied.

Denji takes up this objective knowing full well that what he's missing once again is someone, a loved one, to protect. For the old Denji loves, tries to protect, is trapped in Chainsaw Man's infernal cycle of suffering. If he is to return to the way he was, then he must also learn to love again, and to love others.

But love isn't visible; Denji only expresses himself in terms of needs.

The need to be loved and the need to have sex are two different needs. Denji doesn't seek one through the other, he only grasps one.

This conclusion on sex sums up this arc a little, this pretext for making Denji out to be an idiotic character, obsessed with sex as a poorly-written character with subversive aims. It's not about falling into the pitfall of a puppy looking for love.

It's about a boy who has long since stopped accepting that he has to go on living, and who projects himself through his non-experience to find meaning in it.

Not having a mother is part of his non-experience.

#chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #denji #asa mitaka #nayuta #katanaman #haruka iseumi #csm 165 #csm 164 #csm 161 #csm 160 #csm 159 #my thoughts

[suplicyy]

"Wanna be your muse..."

Artist!Reader x Karasuno [Part 1]

Summary — He discover by chance that you love drawing him, maybe even too much...

Characters — Hinata, Kageyama, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima and Nishinoya.

— Fluff

— Gn! Reader

You've been together for a month now, and him going to your house and vice versa was starting to become a routine. That day, he was the one who went to your house to spend the afternoon.

You were in your room watching a series, when you said you were going to the bathroom and left the room, leaving him alone there. While you were gone, he watched your room, looking at some posters on the wall, books on the shelf, a notebook open on his desk... – a notebook? - he thought. You usually left your desk tidy, so it was rare to have anything "dropped" on it.

He knew it wasn't good to see your things without permission, especially when you weren't there to let him or not, but he thought about taking the notebook and putting it on the shelf with the others. So when he went towards your desk to get the notebook, he didn't expect to see some drawings of him.

Hinata Shoyo

When the boy saw that you drew him, he was SO happy. But at the same time he was also a little embarrassed, because it would never have crossed his mind that you liked drawing him.

And the moment you got back to your room, he almost had a heart attack at that time, not knowing what to say to you.

Do you remember that moment in the first episodes of the season 1, when Hinata was nervous for the match against Seijou?So...that's exactly how he was now.

He kept apologizing a million for having seen your notebook without your permission, please make sure everything is ok otherwise he will faint...

After he calmed down a little, he told you how much he loved your drawings, he thought they were so beautiful!

And after that, whenever he saw you drawing he would stop to watch you and praise anything you were drawing, even if it was just a simple sketch.

Kageyama Tobio

He was so confused.

"Why did you draw him?" "How do you draw so well?" "What do you see in him that you have so many drawings of him like that?" "Why was there a drawing of him as a prince holding you in his arms?"

There were many unanswered questions...

The first thing you saw when you returned to your room was a rosy-cheeked Kageyama staring frighteningly at your notebook.

He even tried to thank you for drawing him, or praise your drawings, but the moment the words left his mouth they were all confusing.

But somehow you understood what he was trying to say, and placed a small kiss on his cheek, which was now redder than ever.

Now whenever you draw, he takes a little peek at what you're doing, secretly wishing that he was the one you were drawing.

Tsukishima Kei

...What?

It was the only thing he could think of at the time.

He watched the drawings you made of him until you returned to the room.

You better be prepared, because Tsukishima was going to tease you about this until the end of the day...

But don't let his exterior fool you, because it may not seem like it, but he was very shy when he saw them.

What affected him the most was the way you drew him – he in person didn't look as pretty as in the drawing – that's what he thought.

So if you drew him that way was it because you saw him that way? That certainly stayed on his mind for a few days.

And from that moment on, whenever he saw you with your notebook he would ask if you were drawing him, with the aim of teasing you.

But if you answered yes, that you are really drawing him, Kei would just stay silent next to you, watching you.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Poor guy, someone help him.

He would be totally shy about this.

Yamaguchi was always a boy who didn't feel so confident about his appearance, so when he saw the way you drew him, he was thrilled.

But after observing them a little longer, he was happy to know that you like making drawings of him. And just thinking about the work you had to do all that thinking about him, his heart warmed with affection for you.

If you sometime have an art block, he would send you several inspirations he found on Pinterest, because he knows you feel sad whenever you can't draw anything.

And no matter how many times this has happened, Tadashi will always be a little shy when he sees that you are drawing him or for him.

Nishinoya Yuu

Someone hold this boy please, because I'm sure the moment he saw you, he would throw himself at you and hug you.

And he probably won't let you go until you threaten to throw your slipper at his head.

That was certainly the best day of his life.

What do you mean the person he likes most in this world drew him?? He was delighted, to say the least.

Nishinoya would always give you crazy suggestions for you to draw, like him fighting a crocodile and with several explosions in the background.

And of course he would always show your drawings that you made of him to all his friends, telling everyone to feel jealous because he have an incredible partner who draws him so well.

A/N — I decided to separate this one into two parts, otherwise I think it would be too long and it would take longer for me to post..😭😭

— Read part 2 [here] !

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

[sturnsjtop]

stupid fucking dare

you and matt are fwb and on a boring night you guys decide to go to the beach to relax but a stupid little thing you dared him to do was probably not a good idea.

Your thoughts

Third person pov

Friday, 10pm

Y/n pov

Me and Matt have been bored out of our minds for an hour now. Even tho we fucked 2 times today we weren’t really in the mood for a round 3.

I’m chilling on the couch next to him as an idea pops in my head.

“Wanna go to the beach? Just to chill or whatever”

He looks at me and nods “yeah I guess we could go”

Friday, 11pm

We’ve been playing a game “truth or dare” and he dared me to eat sand. What’s up with this kid?

“Come on your turn ask me” he says calming down from his laughter after seeing me choke and spit the sand out.

“truth or dare, bitch.”

“I ain’t a pussy, dare.” He says smirking at me

I laugh. “Oh you’re gonna get it.” I smirk and look around “I dare you to go over to that girl” I point to a random girl “and ask her to hook up but if she agrees just tell her it was a joke or something. I don’t wanna see you fuck other girls.” I say giggling.

Matt glances over to where I pointed and looks back at me smirking

“Whew a nice dare, huh? Alright then, wish me luck. I’ll make you proud.” He says as he stands up and smirks at me while walking up to the girl

She wasn’t far away so I could hear perfectly what they were saying

He stands in front of her taking in her appearance. She was really fucking gorgeous.

“Hey girl. You look mighty lonely down here. Mind if I join you?” He asks trying to keep his charm and ‘confidence’ and hoping to pull it off

The girl glances up at Matt, giving him a flirty smile as she takes in the sight of him. A slight look of appreciation in her eyes as she sizes him up. “Sure handsome, I don’t mind at all. What brings you here to me?”

Lord help me I’m cringing at the sight of this. Come on Matt do this quick and come back.

Matthew manages to maintain his composure, flashing a smile and sitting down beside her. “I just saw a gorgeous girl all alone and I just couldn’t resist coming over to keep you company. A girl like you deserves a man who’ll treat you properly, ya know?” He says taking her hand in his and gently kissing it.

Ew, what the fuck Matt? You don’t know where that hand has been. I look at them shocked as I’m waiting for him to up and end to this torture and do his fucking dare.

I mean the dare was not flirting with her, just asking to hook up. Maybe I’m jealous but what is he doing? He doesn’t even know her name.

Matt takes a moment to chat with the girl flirting back and forth feeling almost a rush as he takes her in, her beauty drawing him in. His breath growing slightly more shallow as he looks at her, feeling a sudden pang of warmth go through his chest. He can’t help the strange feeling for this random girl as his mind begins to wander but when he remembers the dare he snaps out of it. He shifts slightly and looks at her.

“So.. doll.. I’m in a bit of a predicament. What would you think about helping me out a bit?”

The girl looks at him, her eyes widening at the words. She purrs out a response “Sure thing handsome… what kind of help do you need?”

“Just a small favor..”

Matthew what the fuck are you doing? Ask her to hook up, tell her it was a joke and fucking leave.

“What do you say.. we go somewhere more private and… you know.. I’ll show something you wouldn’t wanna miss out on” he says in a seductive tone while putting his hand on her thigh waiting for a response.

She nods and they stand up, going somewhere that it’s not even private. I can’t with Matthew. Just get this over with. Like it’s already done Matt just say it was a joke and come back to me.

He turns to her, biting his lips and places his hands on her hips. His eyes dark with desire he pulls her in and kisses her. His hands going to her ass and he squeezes it. She moans and he slides his tongue in, making out like it’s the last day on earth.

I look at them shocked. This wasn’t part of the fucking dare, what the fuck is he doing? Literally 2 hours ago we were hooking up and now he’s tryna fuck this random whore he met not even 10 minutes ago? He doesn’t know her name. Does he even remember he came here with me? Is he fucking with me? I’m so fucking done with him. He can get his dick wet and make out with her while I just stand there and watch them do it? Fuck you Matthew. I so fucking hate you.

I stand up and go the other direction, leaving the beach as a tear goes down my face

Why the fuck am I even crying for? Maybe I liked him? Of course I fucking like him, I love him. But what he’s doing right now is so fucked up. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have dared him that. But no it’s not. It was just a dare. I made it clear after she agreed that he has to say he’s joking because I didn’t want to see him fuck other girls. But here we are.

Matt loses himself in the kiss, feeling a heavy rush of lust and excitement as their bodies are pressed against each other. It’s a rush he hasn’t belt in years, having a pretty woman pressed against him. It almost feels like a dream, a fantasy. After a while he pull away breathing heavily and coming back to his senses. He looks around to look for y/n but she wasn’t there. He starts to panic.

The random girl looks at him confused “what happened baby? Why’d you pull away?”

Y/n is sprinting to her best friends house, Sabrina while crying her eyes out.

Matts heart clenches in his chest, a pang of guilt running through him. He realised you were there watching all of this. His stomach drops as he realises what he’s done. He sighs “oh fuck”

The girl looks at him confused “huh?”

Matthew backs away from her and leaves her there, while he’s trying to call you and run after you but you weren’t in sight.

Saturday, 00:23am

“I never want to see him again. He can fuck other girls I don’t fucking care. He’s the one who will get STDS not me.I fucking hate him.” I say crying in my best friends bed cuddling her. She barely understands what I’m saying

“It’s okay y/n, he’s fucking stupid for putting you through that. You’ll find someone better.” Sabrina says as she runs her fingers through my hair.

Saturday, 2pm

Me and Sab went to sleep at 4am. All we did was talk about random stuff to get my head off Matthew. It kind of worked.

Now I’m heading back to my house feeling like shit and probably gonna stay in my bed all day watching random TV shows.

I get closer to my house and I see something there. Not something, more so someone.

Matthew.

In the same clothes as yesterday.

Did he stay in front of my house all night? What the fuck?

y’all don’t judge it’s my first time ever writing a fic and English is not my first language so excuse me😭😭😭

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo one shot #sturniolo smut #smut #dare

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Slip Into Me: Part 1 Saved Before Dusk✨

QZ! Joel x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Kofi

A/N: This just stumbled upon me when I was driving home from work this week, so I wrote this in about a day. I’m still not sure how I feel about the first chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for giving this a read for me! (I cannot keep up with tags, so be sure to go follow my notifications blog if you want to be notified when I post @mermaidgirl30-updates)

Chapter Summary: You run into trouble with one of the FEDRA soldiers, but a broad, handsome stranger comes along and intervenes.

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapter Tags: QZ! Joel, outbreak au, FEDRA soldier tries to attack reader, Joel steps in and saves reader, soft Joel, a bit of pining and a little flirting, eventual smut in next chapter, no use y/n

Word Count: 6.1k

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The Boston QZ is grimy, filthy, overrun with FEDRA soldiers who stalk and parade up and down the city of turmoil. Their tanks fill the streets night and day, ordering people around as if they were their own personal slaves. The buildings are rundown, furniture tattered and torn, bodies filing in and out day after day just trying to survive off the little ration cards they collect every week. 

   It’s not a place you wanted to stumble upon, not a home at all. But this was where you’d stay for now because your group was all gone, killed by feral raiders who murdered your friends in cold blood. You were the only one left, untouched in an infected world. You were lucky to make it out alive, but at what cost? You sure as hell didn’t want to stay here in this cage. But you guess it’s better than being attacked by infected or murdered in your sleep. 

   They offered you a little apartment, ration cards for a hard day’s work cleaning and organizing weapons for FEDRA. You don’t trust any of the soldiers, don’t dare look them in the eyes most days, only when you have to. Maybe one day you’ll make it out of here alive, but for now this place is giving you shelter, food, running water, electricity. It sure beats living on your own out in the woods somewhere where no one else can defend you. You’ve learned to be on your own, but that doesn’t mean you like it. 

   The air is warm as dusk draws near, the summer heat stifling even as you walk through the shade. Your shift is over, dinner gone and finished, so now it’s time to go back to your cold, lonely apartment. Maybe tonight you’ll actually get some decent sleep instead of waking up screaming from nightmares of distant times. You still see faces of loved ones you lost get murdered by infected and raiders, friends starve to death, companions freeze to death. You don’t know how you made it all this way, but you did. You had to stop holding on to the past, it wasn’t coming back for you. 

   You swipe your fingers against the cool bricks of falling apart buildings, making your way through the narrow alleyway that’ll lead to your apartment building. Just as you pass a stairwell on the side of the brick building, a dark shadow makes its way toward you. 

   You freeze, stopping dead in your tracks, fingertips still tracing the rough bricks. There’s a tall FEDRA man walking toward you. Navy blue pants, combat boots, a camouflage vest strapped tight to his chest. He looks menacing. Piercing blue eyes narrowing your way, coarse blonde locks that look like pure ice, a large scar running down the side of his dirty neck, and fists locked tight at his sides. 

   “Hey, girl. What do you think you’re doing out here all alone? Up to no good I suppose?” he asks as he stalks toward you like a hungry tiger, eyes locked with yours as a smirk meets his chapped lips. 

   You back up to the brick wall, feeling like you could sink like jello into the dusty cracks of the brown faded bricks. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. You’re trapped like a helpless little mouse. “No, I’m just trying to get back to my apartment.”

   “Sun’s about to go down, shouldn’t be out so late in the day close to curfew. You’re up to no good, aren’t ya? Trying to sneak around and steal some ration cards?”

   “No, I…”

   “Don’t lie!” He bites back, jaw seething as he pulls your wrist and clamps down on your skin. It feels like wires setting your nerves on fire, like he’s ripping through your delicate bones. 

   “Please, I’m only trying to get back. Let me go,” you beg, using all your might to get out of his tight grip. 

   “I don’t think so, love. Thieves get searched, and I’m gonna search you till I find what I’m looking for,” he snarks. 

   Before you can fight your way out of this mess, he spins you around and pins you to the wall, slamming your face into the sharp bricks as you cry out in pain. He crowds your body, digging his fingers into your hips as his other hand shoves your face against the searing surface. You can’t break free, can’t fight your way out of this. He’s too strong, too overpowering. You’re completely helpless. 

   “Please, stop,” you whine, feeling a warm tear slip down your cheek. 

   “No, I don’t think so, doll. Think I’ll stay right here between your…”

   Before he can finish his sentence, you hear a deep gruff voice growl behind you. “Get the fuck off her, Seth.” You feel the soldier’s weight being dragged off you, hear the sounds of a body being thrown into the side of the opposite wall. 

   You spin around and freeze, watching a stranger punch the soldier’s face with bruised knuckles. The soldier spits blood from his mouth, but the other man grabs the edge of his navy collar and pins his back against the brick wall.

   “Think you’re a tough guy, Seth? Think it’s alright to put your filthy hands on her? I’m sure she didn’t ask you to, so mind your fuckin’ manners and keep your goddamn paws off her,” he growls, spitting up into the soldier’s wide eyes.

   You don’t know what to do, what to think. All your brain can do is eye the back of the man who saved you. He’s tall, so very broad, wide shoulders, tousled dark curls that probably feel like silk. His green flannel is rolled up to his elbows, exposing cascading veins that drape down his tanned skin, ending in massive calloused hands. His dark jeans are faded, worn brown boots covering his feet. He looks like your knight in shining armor, your saving grace. Why he saved you, you don’t know. But you want to find out, now. 

   The soldier laughs in his face, but he only grips his collar tighter as he sends another punch to his swollen eye. When he spits more blood, he turns back to your savior and laughs casually like he didn’t just get beaten up. “Fancy meeting you here, Miller. Say, you ever find those cigarettes and drugs we sent you out for?”

   He clenches his jaw, releasing his collar so he can push the soldier again against the wall. “Ain’t got nothin’ for you, Seth. You want some, you can give me more ration cards,” he hisses. 

   The soldier laughs, shaking his head back and forth. “Five,” he wagers. 

   “Ten,” the broad man demands with narrowed eyes. 

   He raises his hands in defeat and sighs. “Fine, ten it is. Just hurry up with my order, will ya?”

   The other man slaps his face, hard. You can practically hear the split of a rubber band snapping against skin. The soldier cowers over, holding the side of his mouth in pain as he stands back up slowly. “Tell me to hurry up one more time, and I’ll break your jaw,” he seethes. “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready, Seth. You’ll be the very last.”

   He narrows his cold blue eyes, pointing a finger accusingly at the man who saved you. “Better watch it, Miller.”

   “You threatening me? I shouldn’t be the one that’s careful, you be careful. Wait till Tess hears about this,” he growls with furrowed eyebrows. 

   Seth backs up all wide-eyed and bruised, like he’s afraid of the name Tess. Before he can get anywhere, the broad bodied man nods his head to him. “Get out of here, and don’t mess with this girl again. Got it?” he growls with the bite of his scowling jaw. 

   Seth looks over at you and nods before he runs off in the opposite direction, clutching his vest like it’s the only thing keeping him at bay. 

   He huffs out a deep breath and turns to you, furrowed eyebrows turning into a contemplative, concerned expression. Your eyes go wide, taking in the front of his face for the first time. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Dark brown eyes that look like pools of honey hone your vision, sweaty, tanned skin glistening in the fading light of day. His dark beard is threaded with silver, a strong jaw set with plush lips that half open when he looks at you. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and he’s so fucking broad. You decide then that his eyes could kill, they could devastate anyone in their wake by how beautiful they are. Warm chocolate eyes flecked with wisps of honey brown. Absolutely breathtaking.

   “You alright there?” he asks with concern lathered in his voice, careful with his large steps as he walks up to you. 

   “Oh, I’m… yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, suddenly forgetful on how to take deep breaths. Your heart is racing wildly, you swear it’s about to fly out of your chest. 

   He reaches out, but stops himself. Instead, he just points out the left side of your face. “Your face. You’re hurt,” he says with a scowl, clenching his hand into a tight fist at his side like he’s furious at the soldier for hurting you.

   Your hand shoots up to the side of your face, and that’s when you feel it. The blood, the aching feeling of having your face bashed into the hard bricks. “Ahh, fuck,” you whine, hissing when you try to brush your fingertips over the swelling area. 

   “Here, c’mon. Follow me. I’ll get ya taken care of. I’ve got supplies back at my place. Can fix ya up in no time,” he offers as he nods his head for you to follow. You stay put, weighing your options. You don’t know this man, but he saved you, so he must be safe.

   He takes a few steps forward and turns back around when he doesn’t see you following. “You comin’?” he asks with hope in his brown eyes. 

   You take a moment to breathe and then nod, agreeing to go with him. “Yeah, lead the way.”

   You follow after him, letting him lead you away from the narrow, dark alleyway. When you get on the sidewalk of the main street you notice he walks on the outside of you, like he’s shielding you from any other soldiers who might give you a hard time. You don’t know why he does it, but you owe him a huge debt now. 

   You cross your arms over your teal t-shirt, looking up at the tall man who saved your life while he leads you to building two where he must live. You’re about to speak, but he beats you to it. “You know, you shouldn’t be out alone when the sun’s about to go down. A bunch of no good soldiers swarmin’ the streets here. What were you even doin’ out?” he asks, turning to a stairwell where he leads you up to the second floor. 

   “I was just heading back to my apartment. I got a late start with work today, had some things to finish up.”

   He hums, looking back at you with furrowed brows. “Next time walk back with someone. Seth ain’t the only lowlife soldier. Gotta be more careful,” he tsks as he takes out a golden key in the pocket of his denim jeans. 

   You sigh, feeling as if he’s somehow blaming you for not knowing the safety rules around here. “Look, I’m new here. I didn’t know any better. I was just trying to get back to my place. I didn’t… I didn’t…”

   “Whoa, hey. S’alright. Nobody said you did anythin’ wrong. I’m jus’ sayin’ watch yourself. Alright?” he asks with his hands raised, like he means no harm. 

   You drop your guard and sigh. “Sorry, just a little on edge,” you mutter. 

   “Don’t blame ya one bit. Now, c’mon. Take a seat at the table. I’ll get you a warm washcloth,” he instructs as he opens the rusted red door, the hinges squeaking while you make your way into his little apartment. 

   He shuts the door, and you take in your surroundings. The walls are covered with chipped white paint, the kitchen tiny, a little solid wooden table surrounded by two brown dining room chairs. The living room is open, a sunken leather couch with a broken coffee table sitting in the middle of an old, threaded blue rug. White satin stain coated curtains cover the glass window, and light shines dimly throughout the small apartment. It’s worn down, but it’s cozy enough. 

   You make your way over to one of the chairs, slowly pulling it back as to not make it drag across the hardwood floor. When you get comfy in the back of the chair, you watch Joel disappear into the other room, listening to the trickle of a running faucet while the bathroom light shines down the narrow hallway. 

   You fidget your fingers together, tapping your foot nervously on the dusty floor. You’re in his apartment, the man who just saved your life. And he’s tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome. His looks could surely kill a man with just the gaze of those dark flecked eyes. He had danger written all over those honey colored eyes. Eyes that could eat you alive.  

   He comes back down the hall a minute later, tan washcloth in hand, flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, corded veins skating all the way down to his massive hands. You’re nervous just by those large, thick fingers grasping the washcloth. You wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. Maybe like burning fire, hot charcoal, extreme heat rushing off his rough fingertips. He might feel like wildfire. 

   He pulls up the kitchen chair across from you and grunts when he sits, like his whole body hurts from the weight of working in the summer heat of the QZ. “Look up for me,” he requests, sliding his chair a tad bit closer to yours, enough to brush his knees against yours. 

   You gasp when his fingertips meet your skin, his hand cupping your chin and turning your injured cheek to where he can reach you. You were right. His fingers do feel like wildfire, calluses gliding against your smooth skin as he gets a good hold on you. It’s almost enough to send you jolting from the chair. 

   “This might sting a bit. Jus’ hold still,” he says gently, a deep voice escaping behind plush lips. You wince a little when the warm material meets your wound, but you relax when he gives you that certain look that says be still. 

   You hiss a little at the contact of the warm cloth across the scrapes on the side of your face. He makes eye contact with you and asks with those deep brown eyes if you’re okay, stopping his movements for just a second before you nod and let him continue. 

   From here you can see how clear the dark flecks in his eyes shine, a faint red scar above his right eye, silver threaded coarse beard that looks almost soft to the touch, and pink lips that look so inviting. He watches you study him, his own eyes flicking back and forth from your injury to your eyes, silently assessing you with a wary stare. 

   You see it in his eyes, he’s curious about you, maybe interested, but he doesn’t give much away. You see pain behind those dark irises, a worn body just getting by in the QZ day after day. You don’t know him, but you can tell this much. He’s reserved, quiet, careful, a man that keeps his guard up. You’d like to see behind those walls, if only for a moment. See what all he’s really been through. 

   After a couple more seconds of silence he finally talks. “You new here? Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”

   You nod, watching him trace the edges of the warm washcloth across your cheek. “Yeah. Just got here a couple weeks ago,” you murmur, clenching your jaw when he rubs against a really sore area of your cheek.

   “What the hell brought you here?” He says it rough, like he can’t believe anyone would ever dare come here by their own will. 

   “Raiders attacked my group. I was the only one left alive, and I just sort of stumbled upon the QZ gates. One of the soldiers found me and offered me a place here.”

   He hums, dark eyes assessing you slowly, sliding down your body briefly as something twists in your stomach at the sight of him really taking a good look at you. “M’sorry ‘bout your group, but I’m more sorry you ended up here in this hell hole. FEDRA runs this place, and none of ‘em are remotely friendly. Especially Seth.” He spits the name out like it’s poison on his tongue, and you see he can’t stand the man that attacked you. 

   You purse your lips and ask him the same. “And you? Why are you here?”

   He drops the washcloth from your skin, clenching his jaw as he stares with a hardline drawn on his forehead, shaping wrinkles across tanned skin. “That’s a long story that I don’t feel like answerin’ right now.”

   Before he brings the lukewarm washcloth back up you grab his wrist, preventing him from lifting his arm further. He stares at you, eyes partly narrowed, challenging you to ask him again. “At least tell me where you’re from. Your accent, are you from the south?”

   He leans back in his chair and sighs, nodding his head slowly. “Came from Austin, Texas. And you?” He raises his thick eyebrows like you owe him the same gratitude of telling him where you’re from. 

   “California. Northern part,” you answer, listening to him hum once again until he brings the washcloth back to your temple. 

   “You’re a little far from home ain’t ya?” he asks quietly while he brushes the soft material over your face. 

   “Unfortunately,” you mumble under your breath. Another flick of those pools of honey your way and you see a hint of concern, maybe even sadness buried in those flecks of darkness. He seems to have so many layers to him. You want to unravel them, unfold every piece and dig into his past, his present, his mind. And maybe you’ll get there, one day. Maybe, just maybe…

   You suddenly realize you don’t even know his name, how have you not asked him yet? You heard the soldier say Miller. Maybe that was his last name. 

   You pick at the fading denim of your jeans and raise your eyes to his hesitantly. “Your name. I didn’t catch it.”

   Another brush to your raw skin, and his soft brown eyes meet yours. “Joel Miller. And your name is?” he asks with a piqued interest, raising his eyebrows slightly. You tell him your name and he says it back to you slowly, another flick of his dark eyes over your body. Like he’s memorizing you entirely. Your name, your shape, your essence. It makes the room sticky and hot at the sight of his eyes exploring you, even if it means nothing. 

   “Joel…” you repeat, slowly spilling the syllables off the tip of your tongue. 

   “That’s right…” He says your name again slowly, like honey dripping off his warm tongue, every murmur and gruff sound making you a bit dizzy. 

   “You’re gonna be alright. Might bruise up a bit, but nothing that’ll last long. Gonna be sore tonight, jus’ clean it good and keep it dry. Ain’t gonna scar over,” he says as he nods to your face.

   He cups your chin again, turning you slightly to him as his calloused fingertips brush a strand of hair behind the slope of your ear, breathing down your neck as you finally smell him. He smells woodsy, summer sweat kissing the air, cheap whiskey filling your senses. Then he looks deep in your eyes, one hand falling slowly to the top of the table, fingertips curling over the scratched wood, his jaw flexing as his eyes travel down to your lips for just a second, a breath in time. And suddenly you’re frozen in place, waiting for something to happen, something that shouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t, he’s not…

   Another soft graze of his rough knuckles to your cheek and then the front door slams open, sending both of you back in your chairs. 

   “Joel! Got some information for you about the drugs we gotta… Oh.” She stops in the doorway, eyes wide as she looks at you, surprised Joel has company. She’s tall, thin but built with muscle. She’s strong, long brunette hair, and hazel eyes clouding her vision. 

   “Joel Miller has company? Who might this be?” she asks curiously, slamming the door shut with a bang as she folds her arms over chest and nods your way. 

   Joel introduces you two, and you quickly learn her name is Tess. “Nice to meet you, Tess,” you say with a small smile, your arm resting on the edge of the table. 

   “Likewise. What happened to you? Looks like you got knocked up pretty good there.”

   “It was Seth. Fucker had her pinned against one of the alleyway walls and was givin’ her trouble,” Joel spits as he flashes his incisors Tess’s way. 

   “That piece of shit. Wait till I get a hold of him, gonna make him wish he never saw the light of day,” she scoffs. 

   “He’ll be running for the hills, Tess,” he chuckles as he places his meaty hands on top of his large thighs. “What’d ya need?”

   Tess leans up against the fading wallpaper and throws him a pack of chewing gum. “Found this when I was outside the walls today, but just wanted to check in about tomorrow. Wanted to go over the plans before we head out in the morning. I can come back later though and discuss it.”

   Tess’s hazel eyes wander over to you, and she gives you a welcoming smile. “So, how long have you been here? Not long because I would’ve noticed a new face.”

   “Just a couple weeks. Just getting settled in,” you reply as you play absentmindedly with your hair. 

   “Where do they have you working at? I can always stop by, give you some tips, show you around the area. I’m sure you could use a friend.”

   You nod and smile up at her. “Yeah, thanks. They’ve got me working down at the weapons station. Cleaning and sorting and whatever else they tell me to do.”

   “I see. I’m sure that gets redundant and boring, so maybe I can show you a thing or two to not lose your mind in this shithole,” Tess replies, making her way over to Joel. 

   “You’re lucky this one was around,” Tess says with a firm slap to Joel’s back, stifling a grunt from him as he pushes Tess playfully in the arm. “Joel can be a real pain in the ass, but he’s sure nice to have around.”

   “Yeah yeah, shut up. Thanks for the gum,” Joel chuckles as he pushes the pack of Spearmint gum into the pocket of his jeans. 

   “Sure thing, handsome. I’ll see you later.” She waves and gives you a nod before heading out the door. “Welcome to the Boston QZ again.” Tess makes her grand exit and shuts the door loudly, her footsteps fading into the distance.

   You twist your hands in your lap, suddenly overstimulated by the presence of an intimidating woman who clearly gets her way in the QZ. You wish you were stronger, braver, more outspoken like her. And clearly she knows how to pull Joel’s strings. You’re not jealous of her, only slightly envious that she has Joel hooked around her finger. 

   “She seems nice,” you say slowly, looking over at Joel as he laughs at your words. 

   “Yeah, she ain’t too bad. Trust me, she’ll be having Seth shakin’ like a dog out in the freezin’ rain,” he chuckles. 

   You laugh at his words, but suddenly you’re asking something you shouldn’t be. “Are you guys like… together?” you ask nervously, gulping down the rest of your words as you hold your breath like you’re underwater. 

   “Me and Tess? Nah,” he laughs, shaking his head at the mention of it. “She’s my neighbor. But we work together, she’s my partner. We smuggle things for FEDRA.”

   “Smuggle things?” you ask, confused by what he means.

   He leans forward and places his hands on the table. “Yeah, smuggle things. Items, sometimes people, whatever they need. We go out on a bunch of missions. Searching abandoned buildings, makin’ trades, doin’ deals with folks around here and for some of the soldiers. Kind of an easy way to get extra supplies and ration cards.”

   “So you’ve got sway with the soldiers here?” you ask curiously. 

   “More or less. Tess is the one with the real sway, but I guess you can say people kinda fear me. They don’t really mess with me. Hell, they know not to.” He knocks his knuckles against the edge of the table, and you reach up to scratch your face, wincing when you forget how god awful sore it is. 

   “Shit, I forgot about my face,” you whine, gripping the edge of your denim tight as you sink your nail beds into your thigh. 

   “Careful there, try not to mess with it,” he warns softly, bringing back the cool washcloth to your scratches. You sit back and let him tend to your wound, watching how careful he's being with every swipe of the cloth to your fragile skin. 

   He’s close again, close enough to where you can smell him, inhaling the woodsy scent as summer sweat mixes with the pinecone scent. You could get drunk off the smell, and you really hope it’ll stick to your clothes when you’re back in your apartment, alone with your delusions of having his large hands all over your skin. 

   You watch the way his large biceps cling against his flannel shirt, like he’ll rip the soft material at any given moment. His knees brush against yours, fingertips grazing your jawline like the edge of a soft feather, enough to send tingles down your spine. 

   “Is it just you here?” you ask while he holds the damp cloth to your cheek. 

   “Jus’ me,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking back to yours. 

   “Do you have family around. Anywhere?” you ask cautiously. His jaw clenches, and his lip quivers while he analyzes the question, figuring out if he wants to answer or not. 

   He sighs, “I’ve got a brother. Tommy.”

   “Here?” 

   “Nah. Haven’t talked to him in years. Last I heard he was settling in Jackson, Wyoming,” he mutters, clearly annoyed about the topic of conversation. 

   “Why don’t you go find your brother?” you ask, conflicted if you should continue the questions.

   “It’s complicated,” he grumbles. 

   “What’s so complicated?”

   “He’s halfway across the country.”

   “So?” you say mockingly. 

   “So? That’s a hell of a ways to go to find someone that I’m not sure even wants to see me,” he says with gritted teeth. 

   “Joel, I’m sure he wouldn’t be upset. What makes you think he wouldn’t want to see you?”

   “We got into a bad fight, and we weren't agreeing on some things. Turns out we wanted different things, so I told him to leave, and he went. Followed some fireflies, hell if I know how long he actually stayed with them,” he scoffs, digging his worn boot into the wooden floor. 

   “Fireflies?” you ask with wide eyes. 

   “That’s what I said,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, getting annoyed with you already, but you just keep talking. 

   “Oh, that’s… well, that’s something. But I’m sure he’d want you to try to reach out. Would you go, if you thought he would? Do you have any other family?” you ask intrigued, pulling yourself to the edge of the seat. 

   He leans back and drops the washcloth to the table, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “You sure do ask a bunch of questions, don’t ya?” he huffs, crossing his arms as a hard line maps across his forehead. 

   “Well, I’m just saying. If I had family still alive I sure as hell would go find them, not stand back and watch them slip away from me! I fucking wish I had mine!” Your words come out louder, harsher than you mean to, and Joel’s just sitting there, staring at you with wide eyes and an expression you can’t quite read. 

   The room is suddenly silent, only the sounds of your labored breathing and teary eyes fogging up the room. You shouldn’t have snapped, shouldn’t have thrown that back in his face. You shouldn’t have pried, now look what you’ve done. “Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

   He opens his mouth partially, big brown eyes lathered in concern holding your gaze. He looks like he understands your pain, maybe just a fraction of that. But he doesn’t share it with you. “S’alright. Don’t gotta apologize. Think we both jus’ over shared a little too much.”

   You nod, biting your tongue from saying anything else stupid. What’s wrong with you? “Yeah, guess so.” You take a deep breath, hearing him scrape his chair back while his left arm rests on the edge of the table. 

   You see it then, a black military watch clasped to his wrist, the glass broken and arms not moving on the watch. It’s broken, just a mere memory of some sort that you want to unlock, but now is not the time. 

   “Think I should get you back to your place,” he says in a deep voice, one that says he’s finished talking about family matters.

   “Yeah, okay,” you say quietly. 

   “Where are you stayin’ at?”

   “I’m in building four.”

   “Alright then. That ain’t too far. C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Make sure no soldiers give ya a hard time,” he says through clenched teeth. 

   “Joel, wait.” Before he can push himself up, you rest your hand on top of his, feeling his warm skin simmer underneath yours. 

   He stares at your hand on his, ticking his jaw nervously as his brown doe eyes fall back on yours. “Thank you, for today, for saving me.”

   “It was nothin’, don’t mention it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand out from under yours, memorizing the way his hand feels like fire underneath yours, mourning the loss of his skin on yours. 

   “I owe you.”

   He looks at you with a serious gaze, his thick fingers clamping down on the material of his flannel. “Don’t owe me a damn thing, sweetheart. I’d do it all over if I had to.”

   Oh. 

   His jaw twitches, amber eyes glowing into yours, a sudden tension filling the room. It feels a lot like longing, understanding, some kind of connection. But the spark of it snaps when he pulls back his chair and stands, nodding for you to follow him. “C’mon, let’s get you back before we break curfew.”

   He leads you out of his apartment, down the rickety stairs and steers you through the winding buildings, avoiding FEDRA’s eyes on the main road. His fingertips brush against yours as he walks briskly next to you, staying near and looking every which way as to not have another run in with a soldier. 

   The city is musty, old brick buildings barely staying intact. Military tanks litter the streets while old broken down cars sit to rot around the QZ. You stay close to Joel, keeping quiet as he concentrates on getting you back to safety. 

   You should be grateful to him, you are grateful. He saved you, even though he really didn’t have to. He took care of your wounded cheek, made sure you got back to your place safely. You were eternally grateful for the broad man that showed you kindness when no one else did in this godforsaken city. Joel was a good man, as far as you could tell.

   He leads you to your building, the one with the number four painted in white on the side of the old bricks. Your room is the first door on the right, a chip right next to the jiggling door handle. 

   You turn around and face him, leaning up against your solid oak door as you look up into those dark brown eyes you’ve grown accustomed of thinking about too much. “Thank you, Joel. For everything. Really, I owe you.”

   He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled curls as he smiles a crooked grin your way. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, sweetheart. You gave me company, I’ll call that even enough.”

   You swallow, nodding his way. “Alright then. I guess I’ll let you get back before they catch you outside your apartment.”

   You turn around and twist the door handle, pushing it open until he stops you in your tracks and places his fingers around your wrist. “Wait a second.”

   “Huh?” you ask, whipping back around to find him digging inside his back pocket and retrieving a little switchblade in his hand. 

   “Here.” He stretches his arm out and holds out the knife, nodding for you to take it. You just stare at it, your mouth open wide without even taking a step forward to take it. 

   “Well, go on. Take it.” He steps forward, brushing against your knuckles as he pries your fingers open and drops the knife in your palm, closing your fingers over the switchblade so you have no option but to keep it. 

   “Oh, no. Joel, I can’t. This is yours,” you argue.

   He tsks your way, clicking his tongue and urging you to listen. “Keep it, I’d feel better knowin’ you had somethin’ to defend yourself with. Ya know if someone tries to mess with you again. Jus’ be careful with it,” he instructs.

   You open your palm and assess the bronze blade, tracing the cold edges, watching the glisten of the sharp tip reflect off your eyes. You close it up and slide it in your pocket, looking back at Joel with a wide smile. “Thanks, Joel. You didn’t have to.”

   “I did and stop thankin’ me. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Jus’ want you to be safe is all,” he murmurs, his deep voice carrying through your ears as he pushes his hands nervously in his jean pockets. 

   “Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out in a mere whisper, but he hears you through the hot wind that blows against your hair. 

   “Jus’ watch your back, okay? It ain’t easy around here, and you can’t trust anybody.”

   “What about you?” 

   He knits his brows together and gives you a tight lipped smile. “You can trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He cups your chin, rough fingertips meeting your soft skin. It almost feels electric, like his fingers are magic, and maybe he is. That’s what he feels like.

   His eyes hover over your lips for just a second, peeling them back up to meet your wide eyes. He’s got a soft side to him, something someone would miss if they weren’t looking close enough. You have a feeling he doesn’t let his guard down with just anyone, but with you he did, if only for just a few seconds. 

   He drops his hand from your chin and steps back, keeping his eyes aligned with yours. “Guess I’ll see ya around,” he says, stepping back away from your apartment. 

   “Yeah, guess you will,” you breathe.

   He nods your way and gives you a small smile. “Have a good night, trouble.”

   “Trouble?” you question, laughing at the accusation. 

   “Yeah, that’s what I said. Trouble,” he chuckles as he makes his way back through the narrow buildings, disappearing with one more glance your way, capturing the deep brown eyes that look your way, memorizing them, burning them in the backs of your eyes so you can remember every fleck and sparkle of those sweet honey eyes. 

   You walk into your empty apartment and close the door, kicking off your shoes and dragging yourself to your falling apart mattress. You collapse into the cool white sheets, closing your eyes and replaying every glance, every touch, every word of you and Joel’s time together. You don’t know what’s come over you, but you clearly have fallen for the broad shouldered man with beautiful brown eyes. 

   Maybe the QZ wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it wouldn’t end you like you thought it would. Maybe just maybe Joel would be your saving grace. Maybe those honey glazed eyes would haunt your dreams until you saw him again. And that’s exactly what happened that night. All you saw were crystal clear brown eyes and tousled curls tracing through your fingertips, sheets drenched in the summer sweat of him. You knew then that you were fucked. 

Tags: @milla-frenchy @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @aurorawritestoescape @akah565

@rav3n-pascal22 @keylimebeag

#joel miller #Joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #post outbreak joel #outbreak!joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller pedro pascal

[homara8524]

Good evening to all my brothers abroad. Sorry for the very long delay, new illustrations are ready: ‼️

It's been a little while since my last one, as I was very particular about the drawing this time as well. I apologize for making everyone wait, but I think I was able to produce a high quality work because of that.

I wonder how Yuki & Mai are known overseas.

I take the liberty of thinking that in Japan, the Touhou98 boom of recent years has gradually raised its profile. They are a cute duo, and I would be very happy if they become well known overseas as well.

Let me give you an update on my recent activities. I think I mentioned that I was going to be hospitalized for an examination when I posted my last illustration. I was successfully finised the hospital in mid-April for an examination, and the other day I heard the results of the examination. The answer was very painful, but the result was that my precancerous condition had returned.

Powerlifting is where I am improving my personal record more and more, but at this rate, I will not be able to powerlift for the second half of this year. Although I have not yet received a second opinion, my doctor's recommendation was to have surgery to remove my uterus, which would be better than having it metastasize into cancer and kill me.

However, since I have only seen that doctor, I am not sure if surgery is really necessary. So I will get a second opinion, and if he still recommends surgery, I will have it.

I may feel depressed and not be able to draw well for a while, but the fact that everyone overseas is waiting for me is the only thing that encourages me, so please support me.

I would be happy to receive RT or 💕, but if I could also receive comments, I would be able to understand how people overseas are feeling when they look at my pictures, so if you haven't commented yet, a simple comment would be fine.

#touhou project #東方project #東方プロジェクト #透明水彩 #watercolor #touhou #touhou fanart #touhou pc98 #東方旧作 #yuki & mai #yuki #mai #ユキ #マイ #ユキマイ #アメリカンダイナー #american diner #analog illustration

[stave-writes]

hello!! may i request mitrun and thistle(separately) x artist!reader who is very interested in their appearance, but hides it very well. most of the time they did not notice the reader's interest in their appearance(and they don't really notice the reader either lol), but one day, approaching the reader from behind to discuss something, they make some very high-quality sketches with them?? I hope this is not a very long request and don't forget to drink water!! :)

Mithrun & Thistle (Seperately) x Artist!GN!Reader

Word Count: 555

So sorry about how long this took to come out! Been fighting writer's block but the power of Mithrun debut (!!!!!) is forcing me to make sure I'm up to date with requests ^^

Also in terms of writing Thistle, I view them as mentally still underage so this will be platonic for them, sorry to disappoint at all ^^'

Mithrun could never understand why you look at him like you do, with a gaze full of curiosity and hiding behind your sketchbook when he catches you. Was there something in his hair? Did he do something to upset you? He tended not to pay you any mind, after all, he didn't care about much anymore. So, when asked by a mutual friend to go talk to you, he wasn't exactly against it.

He'd chosen to approach you from behind, simply to see how you'd react. It was funny seeing people jump or flinch when he teleported behind them, even if he didn't have a desire to play around like a child. So, he'd appeared behind you, face leaning right over your shoulder and opening his mouth to speak before he saw it. A...sketch of him?

It made more sense now, that you'd been watching him so often, that you were always face first in your sketchbook when he was around. You'd been drawing him, and he wasn't against it. In fact, the amount of detail was impressive, even if the visible bags under his eyes and the gauntness of his face did make him recoil just a bit.

"Good job." Was his quiet mutter, turning to look you in the face while you were visibly dying with a mix of surprise and embarrassment that you'd been caught by the very man who filled pages and pages of your sketchbook. A smile couldn't help but rise on his face, chuckling softly as he moved away from your personal space. It seemed he mulled his words for a second before shrugging, speaking plainly, "Someone sent me to come get you, said they have a message for you."

And with that deadpan speech, he was gone. Although, anyone who ran into the Captain that day did seem to think he was a little...sunnier than usual. Odd.

Thistle on the other hand is used to posing for portraits with his family, sitting politely still for the painters or being urged to smile brightly to not distract from Delgal or Yaad. He quite enjoyed not being the focus of the paintings, especially with his ears not paid much attention to.

So it was a little confusing when, as he draped himself to look over your shoulder, he saw a sketch of him. With his white hair tied up into the bun, it'd been in for the last 1000 years, and his ears were floppy slightly with youth but still pointed due to his elf heritage. It was a little flattering, being the subject of someone's art!

Smiling brighter than he had for a while, Thistle leant his head on your shoulder, peering up at you with those curious purple eyes and waiting for your reaction. It was a little confusing when you seemed almost upset he'd found your work. Was...he not supposed to see it?

"It looks good! Why didn't you show me it?" Thistle queried, leaning his elbows on your shoulder with a head tipped to the side, as if tilting his head would just knock understanding right into place. Even when you explained they were just personal sketches, Thistle let out a huff. "I like them. Can you make me one to have?" Eventually, you agreed with a sigh. He was lucky he was so damn cute.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi mithrun #dungeon meshi spoilers #mithrun x reader #mithrun #thistle dunmeshi #thistle dungeon meshi #sissel dungeon meshi #thistle x reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gn reader #fluff #dunmeshi fluff #♤ stave chatter #long post

[originallandlockedmariner]

I’m nothing special.

I’m just flawed and weak as the next person. I let my emotions get the best of me at times. I’m not perfect. I read old messages looking for clues. I listen to old playlists of sad songs when I’m sad. I swear too much. Drink too much. I can be selfish and impatient. I’m a sarcastic asshole for alarmingly long periods of the day. I regret choices I’ve made, words I’ve said in anger, people I’ve let down. I’m no role model. Wow, there’s an understatement. But every day I own my shit. I’m accountable and humble. Every day, I try to just be a little bit better than yesterday. Becoming who you are is a life long journey, baby step after setback after stumble after lesson learned. Forever forward. Green and growing as they say.

I wake up and look at those four framed sentences. “Be impeccable with your word. Don’t take anything personally. Don’t make assumptions. Always do your best.” Simple and yet powerful.

Every day, I’m trying to see things differently. Gain perspective. Embrace not taking every single thing personally. Getting cut off in traffic, not personal. Waiting forever in line for coffee, not personal. It is an uphill climb getting comfortable with the concept that nothing others’ do is directly because of you or to upset you. People do what they do because of themselves. That’s it. Even when they treat you awfully or take you for granted, it has more to do with what’s going on with them than you. *insert lecture about Attribution Error.

As for assumptions, I kinda have a PhD in that field. Never met a situation, never had a conversation, never waited for a text, that I couldn’t attach an assumption to. Assumptions are generally born from misunderstanding and a fear of asking questions. Fear of what might be said. We lack courage to inquire so instead we stand back and fill the void with the worst. Draw from our past pain and create a narrative. I’m trying to break that cycle. Ask more questions. Communicate. Be clear and upfront. I can no longer assume others know what I mean or want and then get upset when they don’t act accordingly. It’s unfair to them and only serves to hurt me in the process.

I’m making integrity part of my daily practice. Speaking with integrity. Actions with integrity. And above all, avoiding the trappings of believing my own landslide of bullshit, being my own worst enemy, and justifying every blunder. Be better. Sidestep gossip and small talk. Apologize when you hurt someone. Accept that you’ll be wrong sometimes. Or in my case, a lot. Do what you say you’ll do. Character isn’t built upon what you said you’d do, but what you rolled up your sleeves and actually did.

As for always doing my best, I’m still figuring out what that animal looks like. I strive to be helpful, but sometimes when you’re always available, they take you for granted, not because they are selfish or unkind, but because they think you’ll always stay. Let them miss you for a while. This goes against everything I am but makes sense. I’ve also learned that there is no shame in being broken and anxious and sad. Be whatever you are right now. No need to make excuses or try to minimize the hurt, deny the confusion. You cannot learn about yourself if at first you aren’t frustrated and confused, the hard questions are born from this. You cannot heal without first being damaged. So be broken and anxious and sad. Cope however you need to; as long as you need to, for there is no instruction manual for this, we all make it up as we go along. Day by day and more often, minute by minute. So as for my best, I guess it is just knowing that when I put my head on the pillow, I gave all that I could, was kinder than I needed to be, inspired a few, and made sure the garage door is closed.

I’m nothing special. But I didn’t lose my shit on the drive into work, didn’t assume sporadic texts were anything but a busy day, and a couple people told me that they are grateful for me - so I’m gonna just go ahead and chalk today up as a win.

@originallandlockedmariner

#me #my words

[notmyy4]

I noticed Francis doesn’t look too happy in your drawings for Nacha. There’s gotta be a reason for that. Do you think he genuinely loves her but just couldn’t give her what she wanted?

P.s. you make Francis look hotter than his in game design 🖤

Thank you for enjoying my Francis, I hope I make him handsome while not being too off the original game style 😭❤️🌹

I have a few drawings that are WIPs that show my dynamic for Nacha and Francis, I want to share them soon!

I’m shy to share my thoughts of the characters since I know I will probably be wrong, but I hope to make it clear ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ But you are correct! There are multiple ways I interpret them, but they are mainly the same things with little changes. Here is one way I can imagine them:

I like to believe when Nacha and Francis first met, Nacha was unhappily engaged with another man. Francis is a milkman, and was doing his work so he visits her often. Nacha is a chef so it was easy to make excuses to constantly order from him without seeing suspicious. She likes the way Francis looks, so she wants to seek comfort from him and comes onto him first.

At first he doesn’t feel the same, as he just wanted to do his job. He isn’t ever enthusiastic, his personality isnt the best, so all he has is his looks. But with Francis being charming with his looks, he realizes Nacha is charming with her personality. He comes around to like her personality even though it’s hard for him to show it, and after a while he end up having affairs with her.

Though, through this time Nacha realizes Francis isn’t what she thought he was. She believed she could leave her current fiance to be happier with him, but she quickly loses interest in him because she just doesn’t understand him. To put it simply, to her Francis is boring. She breaks things off with him before discovering she is pregnant, not initially wanting to tell him but Anatasha looks so much like him, of course he finds out. Obviously, her husband can tell too, so he leaves the picture.

Francis really wants to connect with both his daughter and old lover but he’s kind of a bum who isn’t up to her standards. 🥲

I love Nacha being portrayed as really sweet and kind, but for me—I like to imagine her being like that usually only for a front. I love flawed women, so I do think she’s kind, but i like to imagine her being passive aggressive and a little mean, as well as high maintenance when it comes to her relationships. 🥺

I ultimately think Nacha is a good mom who loves her daughter. But she is protective, and because of that when Anatascha asks about the Milkman on the third floor who likes to give her free things from the store, she tells her to ignore him.

Long story to short, I draw Nacha happy and affectionate as she always is and Francis being more distant and ‘unhappy’, as that’s just how he always looks. And it’s because of that behavior that she leaves him, but he isn’t really like that. He does care for her now, even if he didn’t at first.

Sorry if it’s hard to understand, it’s hard for me to put things into words. If you can’t understand, maybe I’ll draw something to put it in better perspective!! Kiss kiss and roses 🌹🌹🌹🌹

#francis mosses #nacha mikaelys

[tobiasdrake]

Okay, your post on Videl got me thinking of Lunch again. She was one of the highlights of Dragonball for me, and she just, didn't exist in Z? Outside of a brief appearance at the end of the anime. Do you have any interesting thoughts on her?

Lunch was mostly a combination of two jokes, one of which is gross and the other of which is hysterical.

As a character, Lunch was mostly relegated to two bits. For the first, I think it was a popular gag in 80's and 90's anime to have an elderly pervert try to pull shit on young women only to face violent comeuppance. I remember seeing this in quite a bit of anime back in the day, and that's precisely the gag that the Muten-Roshi came to center around.

This is precisely what Lunch was originally introduced for. A sweet and unassuming woman that Roshi could perv on....

Right up until a sneeze brings out her alter for violent retribution.

Lunch was the first Super Saiyan IN THIS ESSAY I WILL

Fortunately, since Goku spends so little time at Kame House as the manga progresses, we don't tend to see much of this. Instead, the main thing Lunch gets used for is indiscriminate violence. As Blonde Lunch settled in as one of the gang, her propensity for crime and ability to pull firearms straight out of thin air became her main gag.

You know, in retrospect? If she had to be written out? Robbing the Muten-Roshi of that diamond and then flying off over the horizon would have been a great way to do it.

Imagine if this was the last we ever saw of Lunch. Powerhouse of an ending for her character, wasted on a funny bit in the RRA arc.

Honestly, the RRA arc is peak Lunch. That time she kicked God in the butt notwithstanding.

For the last important thing she ever did in the series, that's such a note to go out on.

But in addition to the hilarious diamond bit, the RRA arc also gives us the only time Lunch has actually gotten to use her propensity for violence in a genuine fight. This is one of my favorite Lunch moments.

Mistakenly believing that the Muten-Roshi is the inventor of Goku's Dragon Radar, Red Ribbon moves to seize control of Kame House. This goes badly for them.

It's been like four months since that guy managed to beat Goku in the ring. Y'all made mistakes.

Red Ribbon manages to make him stop doing this to them by taking Lunch hostage.

But Turtle's there with the palm frond.

And then, shortly after, she robbed the Muten-Roshi for that diamond. Her whole part of the General Blue sub-arc is Peak Lunch.

(I genuinely don't know if using sneezes to transition between personalities is, like, a common ableist stereotype in Japanese culture or if Danganronpa's Genocide Jack was inspired by Lunch specifically. I do wonder.)

The 22nd Tenkaichi Budokai, however, would kickstart what would unexpectedly be the beginning of the end for Lunch.

Her takeaway from Goku and Tenshinhan's final match is that Ten is a fucking beast and Mama Want. This wasn't supposed to be how her character exits the series. But then Raditz showed up.

In the reunion between Goku and his friends at Kame House, Yamcha and Lunch would both reasonably be expected to be present. Yamcha's absence is explained by him and Bulma fighting again, while Lunch is said to have left after the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai to go with Tenshinhan.

And then she never came back. This was the last we ever heard of her. Toriyama has said in interview that he forgot she existed, but he did still occasionally draw her or provide a few extra details for what ever became of her and Tenshinhan's... situation.

In interview following the release of Battle of Gods, he finally gave a final ending for Lunch and Ten's situation.

"Stoic Tenshinhan mainly does farming in addition to his training. He can split into multiple bodies and grow extra arms, so harvesting the crops goes quickly. He was found by Lunch, who fell in love with him at first sight and had been constantly pursuing his whereabouts, and even reluctantly lived together with her; but she wasn’t cut out for farming, and Tenshinhan has no interest in romance, so she left after just a few days. After that, it seems Lunch apparently stops in from time to time."

We don't get to see much of Ten's social life because he doesn't associate with anybody. He and Chiaotzu are an island unto themselves, only popping in when the Earth is in peril.

Unless they're undergoing some sort of heavenly trial or fighting the apocalypse, they don't hang out with Kame-senryu. And since our guys are Kame-senryu, that means we don't get to hang out with them.

They're off doing their own thing and walking their own path. And Lunch is over there in the mystical land of wherever they fucking go with them now. Popping in on the aromantic Tenshinhan from time to time while living her exciting life of crime.

So, farewell Lunch. You really were a hoot to have around.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #lunch

[myfandomrealitea]

saw ur post about going incognito into spaces and stuff and i wanted to add my own thoughts about my experience of basically being stuck in places where proshippers r hated (not against wut ur saying! i definitely agree that theres no benefits and honestly its not that fun)

the fandom that im currently in is.. very toxic. someone got harassed to the point of having to delete their account bc they "supported" a proshipper (it was literally just them saying that u shouldnt harass this person just bc theyre proship-). a lot of my friends were very supportive of this person and agreed that ppl shouldnt be harassed over shit like that and many of them seem to have similar viewpoints as me (anti harassment and all that) but prefer to stay away from that stuff

the fandom is basically ran by antis. theres a small corner that some ppl have made where they talk about proship stuff freely (love those ppl so much theyre genuinely so nice) but overall its. not the best place to be if ur proship. which is interesting to me bc theres actually a shocking amount of proshippers that just... dont say anything. on my side blog ive had multiple ppl interact that i thought were anti (or at least just. not proship in some way) but would literally go and like all my posts about incest ships of the characters.

and sometimes i think about it and how theres actually a bunch of proshippers but we're so heavily harassed and silenced that we just- dont say anything. but the fandom is small and we cant exactly separate ourselves from it if we really like the show. and i feel especially bad for some of the bigger blogs that ppl love and adore bc i know wut would happen if somehow ppl found out and made some big post or wutever.

i dont pretend to be antiship but i dont outright say im proship unless i really trust that person

im currently trying to make my own lil space with some friends so at least if anything goes wrong i at least have a few ppl but its a bit scary to think about honestly-

Although it can be full of snot-nosed superiority complexes, I do recommend using the AO3 Subreddit in order to find likeminded people for your fandom. The very vast majority of the AO3 Subreddit is proship or at least proship neutral. Antis are generally eviscerated on sight whenever they try to poke their nose into it.

If you have any other fandoms that you are active in or have friends within, there's also no harm in introducing them to your small fandom.

From what I understand the Marvel fandom did kind of the same thing you're describing with the Starker shippers, but they flourished and supported each other anyway.

I know its easy for me to simply say 'do it anyway' as someone who generally could not give a fuck about anyone's opinion of me, but honestly. Do it anyway. Form your little collective. Support each other. Learn how to write and draw and make GIFs so you feed your own portion of the fandom. You physically do not need those people, it just unfortunately takes a bit of effort and means potentially a bit less content until you start really generating your own.

Fandom spaces do not start out from nothing. Promote the shit out of your fandom. Draw people in. Comb through the proship tags and send asks to blogs like mine asking other proshippers to check out the source material.

People in small fandoms are easy to bully because you're so enclosed into this circle of the exact same people. They happen to be the majority in the room and they're weaponising it.

Force them into a bigger room.

#myfandomrealitea #sephiroth speaks #fandom #proship #proshipping #small fandom #fandom culture #fandom mentality

[taesanluv3r]

kim woonhak x reader

wc: 1,738

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"what you starin' at?"

taesan's voice takes woonhak out of his trance, the boys head shaking almost comically as if to bring himself back into reality. "huh?" he says, eyes moving to look at the older guy who had taken a seat beside him on the living-room couch. "i said, what are you...staring at?" taesan's words stretch out as he finds himself looking through the younger one's perspective in search of what the boy had been looking at before.

"oh" is all he says when his gaze finally lands on her. park yn, their best-friend sungho's little sister, sitting on the other side of her family living-room laughing about something stupid her older brother had just said. "yn, huh?" taesan almost chuckles too loud, turning to look at a rather lovesick woonhak who just shamelessly nods. "so...you like her or something?" the older boy relaxes into his seat as he inquires, slender fingers simultaneously brushing out the pieces of hair that fell over his forehead. once again, woonhak just nods, not even realizing he's doing so. "but i don't really know what to do about it...she probably doesn't even like me like that" in a matter of seconds the young boy's face had gone from in-love to somber, as if his life was some terrible soap opera he'd catch his mom watching while sneaking down to grab a late night snack. taesan laughs out loud this time, ignoring the puzzled glances from the other people in the room with them as he looked his love-torn friend straight in the eye.

"let me help you out"

the kim boy is hesitant, but he figured he'd need all the help he could get anyways. "okay fine. but whatever you do, just don't tell her i like her, please?" there's a glint in his eyes, as if he were begging for his friend to show a little mercy. the other guy smirks, "of course, bro. when have i ever done you dirty like that?" the answer is countless of times, but woonhak chose to forget about his friend's menacing ways for the sake of maybe- emphasis on maybe- being with the only girl in the neighbourhood that he likes.

and so he watches nervously as the older boy gets up from the couch to walk over to where she was. he pretends to be nonchalant, telling himself it was all going to be okay, but quite frankly, he was shitting his pants right now. but what could go wrong, right?

"hey yn, guess what woonhak told me!" - "what?"

that. that's what could go wrong.

in hindsight it really wasn't that big of a deal, but in the moment he felt like the whole world had just crash landed onto his shoulders. if he wasn't shitting his pants before, he definitely is now. see, the normal person would remain calm and collected, not wanting to draw any attention to a matter that could be played off as something usual. however, the short-tempered teen boy was only a second away from exploding and in T-minus 10 seconds he had already began his outburst.

"what?! dude i told you not to say anything!"

the girl is confused, not understanding why the boy was freaking out or why taesan was minutes away from rolling on the floor laughing. "what? what is it?" yn repeated, even looking towards her older brother sungho in search for any kind of an answer, but he was just as lost as she is. "it's nothing" woonhak stutters a bit, "just forget about it" he slumps back down, the world's iciest glare emitting from his wicked eyes burning an imaginary hole right through taesan's forehead. yn groans, rolling her eyes as she stomps over to where the young boy was sitting, and arms crossed she began to plead. "please~ you know i hate- emphasis on hate- when people tell me something and then don't finish telling me! c'mon woonhak!" she whined, a pout washing over her complexion when he only shook his head in response. "i told you, it's nothing. forget about it!" she stared at him for a little longer, just enough to make sure he wasn't going to budge. "fine then!" she clicked her tongue as she spun on her heels, walking back over to sit beside taesan again.

the lovesick one watched from across the room as she pulled out her phone and began to type something. yn then tapped onto the shoulder of the guy sitting next to her, grabbing his attention and showing him whatever it was she had typed out. suspicious woonhak thought, but he decided to just be quiet for a minute before throwing another tantrum. the teen's eyebrows furrowed slightly when taesan began to whisper something into her ear, the older boy's eyes turned to look directly at him, as if to taunt the boy. almost comically, the girl's facial expressions changed every few seconds, first her eyes got wide, then she too stared right at the poor boy, and then finally, after his friend had finished whispering into her ear, she gasps all too loudly.

"seriously?!" the girl practically yelps, jumping up from her seat to add onto the dramatics. taesan just nods, his face so serious that woonhak can't tell whether he was teasing or not. yn looks shocked, but there's something off about the situation that the boy just can't pin-point. but with the way they're looking at him, almost tauntingly, it's making his blood boil and he just can't sit still anymore.

"ALRIGHT FINE! i like you, okay?!"

its quiet now. the only sounds keeping the room alive was that of sungho's solo mario kart game, and the pitter patter of the drizzling rain outside the walls of the house. yn has on the world's most blank expression on her face, as if she had just watched a swordsman take out her whole family bloodline. and that's when the teen boy realized that maybe his friend kept his promise, maybe he's the one that messed up.

"you WHAT?" sungho breaks the silence, putting down his controller as his little mii character makes it passed the finish line. "is that not what taesan whispered to you?" woonhak's voice is jittery now, like he was about to lie his way out of this awkward situation. "dude i didn't even tell her anything, i just told her what facial expressions to make just to tick you off- i'm not THAT terrible" taesan couldn't help but giggle a little, something about the look on the poor teen's face was just priceless. "oh god" was all he said before he took off, running out the front door in a matter of seconds.

yn is still in shock, drowning out the teasing laughs coming from her big brother and their friend. "what're you gonna do about it, sis?" sungho asks, tossing a spare controller over to the other guy.

"i'm gonna kiss him"

woonhak is pissed, he wanted to run off the face of the earth but the growing heavy rain had stopped him from even reaching the end of her front porch. he lets out a groan, cussing himself out as he took a seat right on the doorstep next to a creepy garden gnome. the sound of the door creaking open tensed his body up, not really wanting to face the truth however, the boy kept his head down against his knees. still not looking, he felt a presence and a familiar warmth greet the empty spot of concrete beside him and a shadow hovering over the ground below them.

"hey" she said, just in case he hadn't figured out who it was. the boy didn't respond, far too into his head and still way too embarrassed from the events that occurred prior to this to even acknowledge her. yn sighed, "hello? woonhak, you there?" growing impatient, she began to tap a finger against his back, but he just shrugged it off.

"leave me alone i'm too embarrassed to even look at you right now" he mumbles, his words muffled against the corduroy of his thrifted pants. the girl smiles softly, a light giggle escaping her lips as she watches him trying his best not to give in and look. "listen, i'd love to leave you alone and let you bask in your teen angst or whatever..." she drags out, perhaps to entice a bit of curiosity from the mellow boy.

"but how am i supposed to tell you i like you and kiss you if you won't even look at me right now?"

the way he sprung his head out so quickly, and the way his face read just about the most bewildered expression almost gave the girl a heart-attack, seriously how can a teenage boy be so cute? woonhak's eyes widen, so as to ask her if she was being serious and not pranking him right now. she just laughed, her eyes closing down into crescent shapes as she did so. "so like...you like...like? me? too?" forgive him for his tone of voice, the poor boy still felt like he was dreaming and all the sudden changes in emotion are very overwhelming. "yeah...i like..do?" she mocks, teasing him in a way that he couldn't even get upset at anymore.

his previous frustration long gone, and just about the brightest set of eyes washed over his complexion. she mirrored this, a slight sparkle in her own pretty ones as the teen pair just sat there staring at each other like they'd never see each other again.

"so..." he says, ruining the moment of peace. "hm?" she asks, head tilting and eyebrow raising slightly in question. "about that whole you kissing me thing..." his words only causes the girl to roll her eyes as far back as she possibly could, scoffing jokingly as she did so. "you're insufferable" yn says, shifting her weight off of her arms to place her hands on either side of his gleeful face. "and you're pretty" the last thing he said before pulling her in close, carefully so that he didn't hurt her, but just as eagerly to press his lips against her own.

-

"so...you think they're like...together now?" sungho asked, watching in disgust from the living-room window as his little sister swapped spit with his friend. "i mean...i guess so..." taesan replies slowly, just as grossed out from the sight. "ugh" they said in unison.

the end.

my first bnd fic 🙇‍♀️ sorry for spelling mistakes n stuff :3 wld rlly appreciate reblogs n such yay ty love u bye

#kona's work ♡ #boynextdoor #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #woonhak #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor woonhak #bnd x reader #bnd woonhak

[inlovewithregencyera]

A letter from Maximilian Worthington to Frederick Worthington:

July 8th, 1817

Often, I am haunted by the fear of judgment for expressing my emotions so freely, save for you alone am I truly able to confide in. Today was extremely hard for me because it would’ve been Mama’s fiftieth birthday. I remember her death so clearly in the back of my mind, just as if it were yesterday. I returned from my daily ride, shortly before the usual dinner. I picked Mama a handful of daisies hoping to lift her spirit as she had been so melancholy with the loss of my dear sister the year prior. I hastily walked up to her chamber, knocked, and received no answer. Knocking once more and still hearing nothing, I entered the room, only to find her lifeless body limp and sprawled across the bed. I screamed for Father, who rushed from his study, and upon seeing his dear wife, collapsed and was immediately consumed by tears. His scream was heard all over Ivyhurst, as Isabella came immediately from the drawing room. We were all overtaken by grief, and sprawled on the floor in our despair. Miss Hurst, Bell’s governess, gently took the poor desolate girl away from the scene. I attempted to console my dear Father and it seemed my mind had gone blank. I don’t know how long I sat there with him weeping into my arms, perhaps it was an hour or two because when I looked out the window the sky was pitch black. Papa refused for anyone to come near her body, and told Reverend Smith to be damned to the depths of hell. When the funeral furnisher and undertaker finally arrived, he could not part with the corpse of his beloved Phia and therefore attacked both men who tried to get her. Because of this, he was given one last night alone with her, and he didn’t sleep. He held her in his arms and wept into her bosom the whole night, begging God to do the irreversible and take him instead. He said it wasn’t right that a man's sweet little daughter and now his beloved wife must go before him. I sat with Bell the whole night who cried herself to sleep in my arms. I didn’t sleep and had no more tears to cry, so I just sat there with my right leg joining my heart in numbness. At the crack of dawn, Father called us to embrace Mama’s lips and say a last farewell. I knew this kiss would be the last I should ever bestow upon on the woman who held all my affection. In the evening, she lay in the chapel with all the servants and the few people she held dearest to her heart around her coffin. The only person missing was you, as Papa blamed the entirety of your household for her demise, thus you were forbidden from coming. The daisies I picked for her were placed into her hands, and that was my final gift to my mother. She was taken to Thornfield before nightfall, to be reunited with the vessel of her daughter just as her spirit had been. Papa refused to watch her be put into a grave as he said he would jump into it with her, and Bell and I knew our hearts couldn’t handle that same sighting we saw less than a year ago with the death of our Elle. I watched the hearse head for the gates, and before it left, I kept telling myself that it was a nightmare. I hoped it would return with haste and bring back my nurturer, my savior, my most cherished Mama-but it never did.

from the beginning | previous | next

#sims 4 regency #sims 4 regency era #sims 4 historical story #regency ts4 #regency sims 4 #ts4 regency #historical sims 4 #sims 4 historical #historical sims #tcotd

[taesancore]

School au Friends to lovers w Woonhak pls ☹️ He's the cutest I want more ppl to write for him!!

the playlist i never sent

woonhak x f!reader

(𝐈) slow dance

a/n: omg anon ily for this ask!! i’ve been writing a f2l school au for woonhak but with a little twist~ i’ll be releasing it in parts as a series and i hope you enjoy it!!

🕊️.ᐟ synopsis: in which a dateless woonhak finds himself swept away by a mysterious white masked girl during his school’s senior masquerade ball.

🕊️.ᐟ genre: f2l (idiots to lovers🤡) with a modern cinderella au

wc: 3093, lowercase intended

“hurry, the ball’s almost starting!!” came eunchae’s frantic reply from your phone as you scanned the doors of the large banquet hall. accompanying your mother to one of her business events at the banquet hall wasn’t in your list for the month and you were quite unhappy when she announced that you were gonna have to miss your school’s senior masquerade ball. which is why you were currently trying to find an entrance from where you could sneak out without your mother catching you.

after successfully escaping from the staff’s entrance and to the parking, where you pleaded mr. yoon, your mother’s personal assistant to drive you to school, you were able to settle down and touch up your makeup, texting eunchae and letting her know to not let woonhak know about your arrival.

“what??? but our class planned the entire theme together!! and you were gonna be my date too!!” your best friend woonhak had lamented when you broke the news of you not being able to make it to the ball. “i know…i wish i could be there too but you know my mother” you exclaimed sadly as woonhak nodded, knowing that you stood no chance against her orders.

“what am i going to do now y/n, i can’t be dateless at the ball! i’m too hot for that” he cried dramatically again as he sat up. “calm down you manchild, you’ll find plenty of other dateless people in there” you snorted, making him fall silent. “is that okay with you? me dancing with someone who isn’t my date-?” woonhak questioned with a strange tone. “huh— yeah? why won’t it be?” you asked with a confused look.

the drama club really needed to cast you as one of their leads, you thought to yourself as you looked back at that moment. the thought of woonhak dancing and getting along with someone other than you made your insides twist unpleasantly. upon the sight of your school building drawing closer, you straightened up. you couldn’t wait to surprise woonhak and dance with him.

꒰ ���� ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

the city below them was brightly lit up despite the late hours of the night. they illuminated your face as you admired the view. woonhak cleared his throat as you turned to face him. the boy nervously stepped forward as he looked into your eyes with a determined gaze.

“y/n…i like you” he said as you smiled, his favourite smile where you resembled the sun and its warmth—

this. this was how today was supposed to go. he had it all planned, along with the location of the confession too but instead, woonhak was bored. and lonely. he didn’t think that his first masquerade ball would consist of him being dateless and grumpy. he sighed as he lied down alone on the football turf. until he heard the rustling of a dress and the clanking of heels.

“i swear— no i won’t be dancing with you!” he yelled out, expecting another giggly freshman’s proposal. “okay? i can’t dance either ways” came a confused reply as he sat up with a start. the white feather mask covered her entire upper face except for her eyes which were currently sporting a quizzical look. her peach dress was embedded with little pearls at the waistline and hem, the peach-orange tint matching the colour of his tie. “oh— we’re matching!” the girl giggled, pointing at his tie.

“ah— sorry for my response earlier, i’m not having the best day” woonhak had no idea why he blurted that out to a random girl, but he did feel slightly lighter after letting it out. she smiled sympathetically as she moved towards him, not caring about her dress getting rumpled as she flopped down ungraciously next to him on the grass.

“same here, i can’t find my date” she confessed with a light laugh. “did he bail on you?” he asked curiously. if he did, boy was he blind because the girl next to him was stunningly pretty, even with the mask on. “no…i searched everywhere for him but i think he left” she sighed. “i’m thought he’d be at the dance floor…he’s such an extrovert that way” she continued. “if it helps, i’m dateless tonight too” woonhak said with a bitter smile. the girl turned to look at him with a frown” is that why you’re having a bad time right now?” she replied softly. he nodded as she pouted. “well, we’re both dateless and having a shitty day…let’s change that!” she declared as she stood up, wobbling slightly due to the weight of her heels. “watch out!” woonhak cried out as he stood up, catching her by her wrist as she fell into his chest with a tiny oof-

“i think you saved my life” she breathed out with a grin, stepping back and fixing her mask. he cleared his throat as he let go of her hand, turning away to hide his fierce blush. why was he blushing over some girl at the ball?

stop it woonhak you can’t do this to y/n! he chastised himself inwardly.

“let’s go?” the girl asked, cutting off his inner thoughts.

“what—“

“last one to reach the rooftop has to do a dare!” she yelled gleefully as she sprinted off.

how was she so fast in those heels?? woonhak yelled out a “hey!” as he ran, a smile unknowingly blooming across his face as he chased her across the empty hallways.

꒰ 🍃 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

the moon lit up the stone tiles of the rooftop balcony, with cool breeze brushing the school’s flag and the hairs on your sweaty forehead as you laughed through gasps. “god your legs are annoyingly long” you whined as the yellow masked boy laughed at your state. clouds of air escaped from his lips as he bent down to catch his breath, clutching the fabric of his pants as he met your eyes. “you’re seriously slow dove girl” he giggled. “dove girl—hey! you aren’t any better canary boy” you yelled back, causing him to double over the railing. once they calmed down from their laughter, you noticed his small smile as he gazed at the sky. “what’re you thinking about?” you questioned softly, the distant sounds from dance floor overlapping with your voice.

“i was gonna confess to her here” he replied, then chuckled bitterly. “ah nevermind— it’s probably for the best that i didn’t get to”.

he likes someone. your shoulders slightly sagged at the revelation, probably empathising with his situation. “you must really like her if you planned out the confession spot too” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. “i really do… but i doubt she feels the same” he sighed, turning to face you. something about those eyes—

“what are you saying— you’re a catch!” the words left you before you had fully processed them. gosh, you were being quite bold tonight which was very unlike you. canary boy scoffed with a smile. “you’re just saying that, you don’t even know me” he pointed out.

“well we should get to know eachother then”

was it the thrill of talking to someone new? someone who could possibly be your classmate from years ago or someone whom you’ve never interacted with in your entire school life? you really had no clue what spirit possessed you but it sure as hell made you determined to follow the YOLO principle tonight.

⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆

woonhak was left speechless again by the dove girl. she grinned at him, leaning back to enjoy the night breeze that caressed their figures in the dimly lit balcony. okay, two can play that game. “you have to do the dare by the way” he spoke out, as she groaned at his reminder. “alright let’s get this over with your majesty” she grumbled jokingly, turning towards him. “who do you like?” he asked, mentally facepalming himself right after asking the question because jeez it really sounded less childish in his head. “is this a truth or a dare?” dove girl giggled at his question. “it’s only fair! i told you about my pathetic love life too…it’s your turn now” he defended himself sulkily. “okay lover boy…where do i began?” she pondered.

at that moment, the song shifted to another upbeat one, the cheers of their fellow classmates nearly deafening him as she laughed over the music. “i hate this song!” she hollered, her actions contrasting her words as she bounced along to the beat. “doesn’t seem like it” he teased as he mocked her movements, laughing at her annoyed expressions. “ah you’re a terrible dancer dove girl” he snickered as he moved closer, ignoring her offended exclamations as he held her shoulders.

“you gotta relax your arms, stop flailing them like tentacles. and your hips should be more….”

⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆

his words floated in and out of your ears as warm feeling crept up your neck. his hands moved to yours, guiding them upwards to match the pace of the song— what song was it again? his warmth suddenly left your arms as you looked up to meet his eyes, those familiar round eyes you were sure you had seen before multiple times.

“do we have mr. choi’s class together?” you blurted out, watching his face twist into a grimace. “now why would you bring up mr. choi? ah my mood is ruined” he sighed loudly, causing you to snort. “anyways, am i doing better now mr. just dance?” you called out as you moved and wiggled wildly, beaming with a sense of achievement as he burst out laughing.

꒰ 🍃 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

the voices from the current song drifted towards you two as you fanned yourself. your hair was probably a mess after dancing your heart away, as several strands were stuck to your forehead and the nape of your neck. canary boy was no less, sprawled out on the floor of the rooftop balcony, his panting frame was currently staring into the starry sky. “you never told me” he started as he turned to you, patting the space beside him. “about your love life”. the yellow mask fell slightly askew across his face as he ran a hand through his brown hair.

“what can i say…he doesn’t like me either” you sighed as you lied down next to him, wowing at the specks across the sky above you. “tch, what a loser” he mumbled as you jabbed him with your elbow playfully. “he’s also my best friend, which makes the situation much more complicated” you let out, gazing into the sky as you thought about woonhak, who must’ve gone back home— which was quite unlikely. he was probably dancing down with your friends, and possibly with another freshman with a crush on him, or one of the really pretty trainee classmates of yours—

“well, he is a loser if he doesn’t like you” canary boy declared as he sat up, smiling at you as he helped you sit up too. for a moment you two sat in silence, basking in each others presence as the singer continued to sing the last notes through the speakers.

⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆⭒˚.⋆

“i really like this song” she murmured as soft music drifted out after the remnants of the previous song. woonhak blinked as she smiled, a full yet gentle smile and she got up, offering her hand to him. she didn’t leave his hand, still staring into his eyes as she moved closer. “dance with me?” she asked, looking up at him with shy eyes. seriously, how could someone not like her? “sure dove girl” he said as he grabbed her waist with one hand. “see, you should move your legs like this—“ he paused, catching her looking at him with amusement. “ah, i ramble too much don’t i?” he smiled sheepishly. “it’s quite cute canary boy, you must enjoy dancing” she mused softly, resting her hand on his shoulder as they moved slowly to the tune.

maybe he did share a class with her because woonhak did find her smile a little familiar as he watched her smile to herself. “thank you” he mumbled as she looked up at him. “for staying with me tonight” he said, sending a genuine smile. she smiled back, that familiar little smile as she whispered “thank you too, canary boy”. they continued to dance atop the balcony, as she spoke up again. “i hope she likes you back you know? your girl” she grinned as the leant forward. “because you really are a catch” she whispered cheekily in his ear. woonhak was pretty sure she didn’t miss the way his ears reddened because her grin bloomed into a full blown smile when he turned his face to hide his blush. she continued to dance with him as the song came to its end.

“i hope your friend likes you back too” he said slowly as they stopped dancing. his firm grip never left her waist and neither did her hand on his shoulder. woonhak had no idea what made her do it. or what made him do it. scratch that, he had no idea who did it first. because as soon as he uttered those words, he found the distance between them close as he leaned in. he felt her breath hitch as she too tiptoed forward to match his height. a pair of soft lips landed on his, he barely felt them due to their feather like feeling as he lightly squeezed her waist. he closed his eyes, mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. his first kiss. he was kissing the dove girl. his first kiss and it wasn’t with y/n—

she pulled away faster than lightning, covering her mouth with her hand as she gasped. her eyes were wide with alarm as she looked into his equally shocked gaze. his mouth opened and closed, with no sound coming out. he probably looked like a fish right now, he thought to himself. the distance between them had increased significantly as he felt her eyes move to something behind him…the clock? she gasped again, this time moving a little closer to him as she took in his hand in hers urgently.

“listen, i really have to get going now canary boy, but it was so much fun talking to you-“

“what—“

“-and i’m so sorry for um, pecking you like that—

“hold on—“

“-and once again, thank you for making my night the most memorable one!” she finished in one breath and she hurried down the hallway.

“wait!” woonhak rushed behind her. really, how was she so fast in those heels?”

he got a glimpse of her ruffled orange fabric as she dashed through the exit of the first floor, he chased her down the corridor as she ran towards entrance in a hurry.

woonhak’s pace slowed down as he crouched down, gasping for air near the entrance as he lost sight of the girl’s speeding figure. his breaths came out in ragged pants as his eye caught something on the floor— an earring. he reached to pick it up, a small pearl stud. the moonlight bounced off its surface as he turned towards the clock, displaying the time “01:28”. he sighed as he got up, lifting his fingers to his lips as he remembered what happened minutes ago. “fucking hell” he cursed as he caught sight of his pink cheeks in a mirror near the doors. fucking hell indeed, just how did he land himself in this situation again?

꒰ 🍃 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“mr. yoon! I’m here!” you gasped out as you ran towards the black car, almost stumbling due to the bites on your toes, courtesy of those huge heels. “what took you so long? you know that your mother will be home in the next half an hour!” yoon jeonghan, your mother’s personal assistant chided as you quickly settled yourself in the car. “let’s leave fast, please mr. yoon!” you cried out, removing your sweaty mask as you fanned yourself. you were sure your face was still cherry red, probably due to the heat inside the car or the kiss you shared with the canary boy. it was probably the former, it really was quite hot in the car, you thought as your mind kept replaying the moment you kissed him—

“could you not mention this to mother?” you mumbled lowly as jeonghan chuckled. “when have i ever betrayed your trust miss lee” he exclaimed as you reached for your phone, which you had left in the car. “so many new messages and oh my god one from mother!” you fretted as you quickly typed out an excuse to your mother, exiting the chat as you opened woonhak’s chat which had six new messages from several hours ago.

woon-foetus: 1 image attached

woon-foetus: this is what you’re missing out on

woon-foetus: Y/NNNNN ITS SO FUN HEREE

woon-foetus: ok i lied. I WISH YOU WERE HERE ITS SO BORING WITHOUT YOU😔😔😔

woon-foetus: 1 image attached

woon-foetus: eunchae says hi, we both miss you bae💔

you snorted at his texts, opening the image of him with eunchae, his bright smile illuminating the screen of your phone as you smiled at his and eunchae’s silly poses. however, what caught your eye was his tie that was loosely tied around his collar. it can’t be…

you swiped to the first image he sent and sat upright with a cry. “is something wrong?” jeonghan called out from the driver’s seat. “n-no no, nothing’s wrong” you said shakily. oh, everything was wrong. you took in the picture of woonhak, showing off his outfit consisting of a light coral tie and white shirt, neatly tucked into his beige pants. a similar coloured blazer was buttoned on him, as he flashed his signature smile at you through the screen.

how didn’t you see it? that same smile that you had elicited several times tonight, the same loud laugh. his hair was styled with his forehead exposed and the usual bangs that fell above his eyes were neatly slicked back, all that was missing was the pastel yellow mask. you fell back against the car seat as the the ugly truth lit up the screen of your phone. canary boy was kim woonhak, the very same kim woonhak whom you had ranted about to canary boy…you had told woonhak about woonhak. your mind felt dizzy as you digested the truth. and…oh my god. your lips tingled as you buried your face in your palms, trying to get rid of the burning across your neck and face. it was of no use of course as you looked up at his selfie on your phone.

you had kissed your best friend kim woonhak, and he had no idea that it was you.

a/n pt.2: comment for a part two! do like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this part and feedback is welcome as always!

#⌗ my works❕ #boynextdoor x reader #bnd x reader #bnd woonhak #woonhak x reader #kim woonhak #woonhak boynextdoor #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #sungho x reader #bnd headcanons #jaehyun boynextdoor #bnd jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #riwoo x reader #taesan x reader #leehan x reader #boynextdoor headcanons #boynextdoor reactions #boynextdoor fluff #bnd fanfic #boynextdoor woonhak #woonhak #kpop imagines #bonedo x reader #kpop oneshots #bnd scenarios #bnd leehan

[jazz-kitty]

If you don't mind me rquesting again could you maybe draw Kuro Lengile?

My favorite little protag person.

okie dokie

#pokemon reborn #kuro lengile #marshtomp #jazzart