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#idk if it counts as silhouette but i mean like
astranauticus · 8 months
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oh lol i forgot to post this robit sketches! because i have one (1) bit and im sure as hell gonna commit to it apparently
#rolling with difficulty#art I made#'shut your up' is a verbatim quote from an ex classmate i just thought it was funny#i dont think it was intentional i think he was just so angry that Words Failed on him#anyway im absolutely not keeping that maxim design. god i fucking hate clothing design *so* much#austin: 'hes a gold plated mechanite dressed in blue and grey robes' me trying to figure out colour placement: 'what FUCK'#i had one (1) good idea and that was 'skeleton shaped robit' and every other part of that design went to hell apparently#bc all the other mechanites we've had were either like... flesh..? shaped?? like that sorta silhouette (basically most of the old crew)#or more mechanical/geometric (vr-la's designs and like.. k-lb? i guess? if that counts)#so. therefore. bone shaped mechanite. also if i was gonna try that concept on anyone it may as well be maxim if you think about it#idk i thought it would be interesting. and also undertale was my first fandom so uh#ANYWAY. MOVING ON FROM THAT THOUGHT.#this started as a 2am intrusive thought of like#'we (artists in the discord) keep joking abt how k-lb would be a nightmare to draw but like.. how hard is it really'#anyway as you can probably expect. famous last words#i mean genuinely mad respect to noir but i think i said to one of my friends when i showed them this sketch#'i mean this in the nicest way possible but you can just tell he was designed for an audio only storytelling format' LMAO#if anyone is unwise enough to attempt this (so basically @ my future self lmao)#do the lineart and colouring for the wires in front of the inner electricity skeleton (???) and the ones behind it on SEPARATE LAYERS#drew the wires all together then the electricity and had to painstakingly go over the electricity with an eraser it was a fucking nightmare
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year
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can you do the "moody to everyone but you" trope with peter as the readers bf
A/N: I didn't intend to make him this agro, but hey, whatever happened happened (sorry, it is very late for me and I be very sleepy, bro. what is up, what is down, idk) and yes, I did indeed write this while my cat was sleeping in my lap and I didn't have the heart to move her so that I could get up and go to bed, so I just wrote this to kill time...
word count: 630
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist 
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“And it must have been a really crazy dream because she was just flailing around in my lap, I mean, she damn nearly fell off,” you gushed about your cat as your frozen fingers never got any further in their mission of unlocking your locker, “oh my god and the cute little snores and the quiet yaps that she did? Urgh, you should have seen it. I should have taken a video and texted it to you as a little good night thing, but my phone was way out of reach and I couldn’t just move when she was sleeping on me like that, you know? I was even trying to stay quiet so as to not wake her.”
Leaning against the lockers beside you, Peter absorbed every adorable word you offered him, rendering him a sappy marshmallow of a fellow, “oh my god, can we just ditch the rest of the school day and go hang out with your cat?” he groaned, joining in on your frivolous ramble, “I swear, she is the most precious creature on this entire planet.” 
Suddenly, in the rush of students wandering from point A to point B, you felt someone carelessly knock into your shoulder, causing your backpack to fling off, the flimsy way you had been carrying it, only half on and ready to crack it open as soon as the contents of your locker became available to you, wasn’t enough for it to survive the crash. Your eyes briefly flickered from your bag, now a puddle on the floor, to the familiar silhouette of Flash disappearing down the hallway. 
Letting the annoyance go as quickly as it had arrived, you turned back to look at your boyfriend, his demeanour flipped completely on its head. You saw it in his eyes, you saw it happen. In a matter of seconds, all he saw was red. 
“Hey,” he roared over the bustle, the soft features he always revealed to you swiftly hardened and exchanged with a look he never dared to aim in your direction, “watch where you’re going, ass hat!” 
“Peter,” you reached out to him before he could get any ideas of running off after the guy, “hey, it’s okay,” his nostrils still flaring, your soft voice managed to cut through his fury, “he’s not worth it.”
Jaw clenched, he glanced back up at the direction Flash had disappeared in, “are you okay?” he asked, forcing his eyes to meet yours as your hand soothingly ran over his forearm. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” eyes still on him, you bent down and plucked your backpack off the floor, “why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Act like a completely different person around other people than you do with me?”
“Y/n, he walked right into you!” he held up in hand to support his point, “nearly knocked you over!”
“I already told you that I’m fine. Flash is always gonna be Flash, sometimes it’s best just to ignore him,” you shrugged, hoping that your breezy demeanour would rub off on him and he would soon return to the teddybear he usually was around you, “and don’t try and act like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about,” you caught his eye as he stopped searching for the long gone bully, “why are you only nice to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” he shook his head lightly, bewildered as to why you would even ask him, “you’re you,” he stated earnestly, “of course, I’m nice to you.” Disappearing in your eyes, he exhaled lowly and then found your hand, entangling his fingers in it, “so, back to more important matters,” a soft smile curled upon his lips, “are we ditching to go home and cuddle with your cat or what?”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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petertingle-yipyip · 8 months
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THREE EMPTY WORDS - MATT MURDOCK
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Pairing: Matt x Wife!Reader
Word Count: 3,230
Summary (Request): a request like fingers crossed where matty and reader are married and when elektra enters wounded she's sleeping and doesn't realise the situation, so half groggy wifey goes and asks him to sleep. he obviously says no, so she walks away upset.. then stick asks him if he would leave the reader for elektra and he says yes. reader obviously hears this (somehow he doesn't know) but what he does hear is her heart snap in two because of how heartbroken. then he ends up apologising and idk how but its a happy ending
You pushed your laptop away and rubbed your eyes, closing them tightly when you realized just how dry they were. They burned slightly and you knew it was time for bed. You shut your device after saving your lesson plans and tucked it into your bag on the floor. You wandered through the living room for one final check that your boyfriend hadn’t collapsed on the couch before you headed to bed.
It was a few hours later when the commotion started. The loud crashing from your living room woke you with a start, jumping hard enough to nearly fall off the bed. You sat up with eyes squinting through the bright living room lights to see the familiar silhouette of an unmasked Matt, accompanied by an older figure and a limp body.
You fought your way out of the blankets and shuffled across the room to get to the door. The lights were still too bright so you covered your eyes with one hand while holding the door with the other.
“Matty? Is that you?” You asked, the sleep in your voice obviously.
“Yeah.” He answered in a rush. “It’s me, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Go back to bed, alright? I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, a heavy yawn sneaking through. “Are you coming?”
“Not right now. I need a few minutes but I’ll be there. Just.. Please.”
“Okay.” You shrugged and shuffled back, eyes closed as you dropped back into bed.
After a short amount of tossing and turning, you woke to a loud yank of the dresser drawer. You sat up and pushed yourself against the headboard, eyes still closed as your hands dropped into your lap. Matt was muttering to himself as he fought out of his suit, the heavy protective material getting slammed against the floor.
“What time is it?” You mumbled, blinking quickly to try and acclimate to the light. “What’s wrong, Matty?”
“It’s nothing, Y/N.” He answered, relatively sharply but maybe he was just tired. “I didn’t mean to wake you again.”
“It’s fine… Should I be worried?”
He finally turned to face you and you noticed his hands were covered in dried blood and they were trembling. You swung your legs around and got up, intending to go to his side but he was quick to meet you and turn you around so your back was towards the living room.
“Matt.” You said quizzically, though there was a firmness that demanded an answer. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a mess out there right now, okay?” He sighed. His eyes closed and he dropped his forehead against yours while his hands moved up and down your arms gently. “I’m gonna handle it and then I’ll be right there in bed with you.”
“You promise?”
He gave a small chuckle before planting a sweet kiss on your forehead.
“I promise.”
“Go on then.” You plopped yourself on the bed again. “Go be a hero… I love you.”
“I love you too.”
You laid on your side as you watched him go back into the living room. He hesitated at the doors and your brows furrowed, though you said nothing. You saw his shoulders drop and heard the faint sigh before he turned away and closed the doors the majority of the way.
You quickly realized you weren’t going to be able to fall back asleep anytime soon so you crawled to the edge of the bed. You leaned forward in an effort to peek through the small opening and saw a woman on the couch, eyes closed with Matt at her side. Out of curiosity, you pushed the blanket to the floor and slid down on top of it. When there was no reaction from Matt, you continued forward until you were at the doors.
Elektra.
How long had she been back? Was she okay?
“Matty.” The old man said. You angled yourself to see him and you could only assume it was the old man who had trained Matt when he was younger. “You know you can’t have both.”
“What?” Matt asked quickly, and you had a similar but quieter reaction. “What are you talking about?”
“Look at yourself, kid. You got your girl in the room, sleeping alone, because you’re here with her.”
“She could die, Stick. I just want to make sure she’s alright.”
“There’s nothing you can do for Ellie right now.” Stick said simply. “As much as I disagree with the soft life you built here…” He sighed and turned towards the bedroom. You froze, as if you’d been caught, but then you remembered he was also blind. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know you were there. “Would you leave it all?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“What’s her name? Y/N?”
“Don’t talk about her.” Matt said protectively. “What are you getting at?”
“Let’s say, hypothetically, it’s between Ellie here and that little firecracker in the bedroom… Who do you pick?”
“I’m not gonna play your game.”
“That’s an answer on its own.” He shrugged.
“Shut up, Stick.”
“All I’m saying is that-“
“I don’t care.” Matt cut in sharply. “I don’t care what you have to say about my life or the way I’m living it, alright? She knows what I do is dangerous and she’s fine with it. She knows that I love her and I do this to make sure she’s safe. She gets it, all of it.”
“Does she?” Stick countered calmly. “Does she know about Ellie?”
Matt was quiet.
“She doesn’t.” The old man said quietly. “And you really think she’ll stay once she knows?”
“It doesn’t matter… She doesn’t need to know.”
“Intersting..”
“What are you looking for, Stick? You want some confession about how I feel?”
“I want you to stop lying to yourself, Kid. And stop lying to that girl.” He pointed towards you in the bedroom.
“I’m not lying.” Matt scoffed.
“Okay… So who’s it gonna be?”
“Why do you care so much?”
“Ellie or Y/N?”
“That’s my wife, Stick.”
“Just answer the question!”
“Elektra!” Matt yelled suddenly and you felt your stomach twist.
Without much thought you pushed the doors open roughly, earning a quick head turn from Matt and a smirk crossed Stick’s features that made you feel sick. Why he intended on pushing Matt to give an answer, you had no idea. But he did, and Matt gave the exact opposite answer you expected.
“Y/N? You okay?” Matt asked carefully, a small tilt to his head as he listened in to whatever tell your body was giving him. “Your heart’s racing.”
“Yeah..” You said tightly. “Just need the bathroom.”
You hurried into the room and locked the door behind yourself. You leaned against the sink, taking a minute to stare at the tears welling up in your eyes. You felt sick, a twisted knot growing in your stomach. It felt as if it was swelling, crushing your lungs and cramming itself into your throat to the point where it was hard to breathe. Your knees fell weak and you let yourself drop the ground, head in hands as the tears began to fall. You kept quiet to try and hear what Matt said next.
“That wasn’t fair.” Matt said angrily. “You tricked me.”
“Did I?” Stick answered sarcastically. “Did I trick you?”
“Yes, you did.”
“The only person that tricked you is you. Come on, Matty. No one forced you to say Ellie’s name.”
“And no one asked you to come here and start problems. You knew she was listening and you wanted to see if you could play some sick game with her. You don’t even know her!”
“I know that you don’t need her.”
“Get out.”
“All of this over some girl. Wake up, kid!”
“Stop talking about my wife that she’s just some girl.”
“She won’t stick around after that.”
“Get out of my apartment or I will throw your ass out.”
With quiet screams, knees pulled to your chest and arms wrapped around them, you sobbed on the bathroom floor.
Your eyes were closed tightly and your shoulders shook as your lungs fought to fill with air. You turned your head to let the small whine of a sound get muffled by your shoulder while your nose ran and leaked onto your shirt. Your hands gripped your legs tightly and our nails dug into the tender flesh, serving as a physical source of your emotional pain.
You had always known Matt had a soft spot for his old college girlfriend. She was the first person that made Matt feel alive, that didn’t treat him as a porcelain doll. She challenged him and adored him for all he was. Like he said, she understood all of it. But to hear him confess that he’d still choose her over you, after everything you’ve helped him through, it felt like a deep cut to your soul.
“Sweetheart?” Matt asked from the other side of the door as he knocked lightly. “You alright in there?”
You shook your head quickly, despite the fact that he wouldn’t know, but had no voice to offer a response. You knew if you tried to say anything, you’d fall into another fit of sobs.
“Y/N, I can’t tell if you answered… Please talk to me, or open the door.”
“Go away.” You said quietly, a voice hardly above a whisper.
“No.” He said before a small shuffle and his voice came from a lower angle for his next sentence. “Not until you tell me.”
You rolled your eyes and slammed your fist against the door. You assumed it would’ve hit just about where he was so maybe he would get the hint that you didn’t want him around.
He didn’t.
“You heard what Stick said, didn’t you?” He asked gently.
“The important part is I heard what you said, Matt.” You managed, your voice weak rather than sharp.
“What I… Y/N, sweetie, you know I didn’t mean it.”
“I’m crying my eyes out because I know what you meant.” You offered sarcastically. “Just leave me alone.”
“I’m not gonna let you stay in the bathroom all night. Unless you plan to sleep in the bathtub, you have to come out at some point, my love.”
“Why didn’t you tell me she was in town?”
“I didn’t think it would matter… It wasn’t supposed to come to this. It was supposed to be something quick, one-and-done. I never planned on her being here this long.”
“Is that supposed to make it okay?” You sniffled. “Things didn’t go to plan so you continue to hide it? You lied to me, Matt. So many times… I thought you were just out doing Daredevil things but you were going on little vigilante dates with her.”
“Dates? No, no, Y/N, nothing was ever a date.”
“That night you left in your work suit and came back in a tux?” You challenged.
“That..” He said slowly as he searched for a way to explain it. Now you were starting to grow angry, hearing him try to justify what he was doing rather than admit he was wrong. “Wasn’t a date. It was just us-”
“It was you two, getting dressed up and going out.”
“We needed to get into the gala to take a leger. That’s it.”
“If that was it, it should’ve been done. But it wasn’t, was it?”
“No…”
“No, you continued to see her and continued to lie to me and all of your friends... Does she even know that we're married?”
“Yes.” He answered quickly. “Yes, of course she knows. I’d never try to keep you a secret.”
“No, but you’ll keep secrets from me.”
“I thought it would be quick.”
You rolled your eyes and shoved yourself to your feet. You yanked the door open and pushed forward, nearly tripping over Matt, who was still sitting on the floor. You let out a ragged breath as a poor attempt to control your boiling anger but with every hasty step across your living room, every time your peripherals caught sight of Matt’s unconscious ex-lover on your couch, you felt that anger seer through every nerve in your body.
Every inch of your skin tingled and your muscles burned. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wanted to scream, to hit something, to throw something. You wanted to cry, to run, and just be alone. But where would you go? It was late. Your friends were likely asleep. You had no escape at the moment, so instead of letting it cook you from the inside out, you directed your anger at the only person you thought would deserve it.
Well, maybe not deserve it, but the only person who could take it.
“I never wanted to lie to you or- or keep anything from you.” Matt tried and all you could respond with was a scoff. You knew the second you let your brain send words to your tongue, they’d flow from your mouth. They’d grow and burn and creep like lava, thick and heavy and painful. So you pressed your lips together and shook your head, letting out sharp exhales through your nose as your angry pacing continued.
“Please, Y/N, you have to believe me.” He nearly begged.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” You asked through gritted teeth, digging nails into your palms so roughly it sent a sting through your hand. “Or was she always going to be your little secret?”
“I never meant to -”
“That doesn't make it any better!” You shouted, throwing your arm widely to gesture to the woman on your now bloodied couch. “You can’t justify this! There’s no scenario or circumstances that make this okay! Do you get that?”
“I know but-”
“Then there is no but!” You continued to scream.
You didn’t care if the neighbors heard. You didn’t care if the whole city heard you. You didn't care if your volume woke Elektra or even woke the dead. You were absolutely livid now that the sadness had worn off. You were initially hurt that he had admitted to preferring Elektra to you, but at the end of the night, Matt came home to you. Matt spent his nights with you. He trusted all of his secrets to you. Elektra may have had his heart in the beginning but he was yours now. You wouldn’t let that go, nor would you ever let her think otherwise.
“I have to find out by accident that my husband is running around town, ditching work, for his ex from college. How do you think that makes me feel? How does that make our marriage look?” You continued, unleashing any thought your brain conjured.
But at that moment, with the notorious neon shining through the living room windows, you refused to let anything slide. You refused to let Matt think he could keep such a secret, especially one with such heavy implications, from you when he had told you - quite literally - everything else. 
“How can I make this up to you?” He asked gently, walking to your side and gently reaching for your balled-up hands.
You yanked them from his grip and shoved him instead. He nodded slightly and let you push him again. And again. And again. You reached to do it again but that time, he caught your wrists. You pulled away slightly but he refused to let you go, offering a pointed expression instead.
“Let me go, Matt.” You said firmly.
“No.” He said with a slight shake of his head. “Not until you answer me.”
“You didn’t owe me this explanation. Why would I owe you an answer?” You shot back sharply.
“Because I love you… Because you mean everything to me and I’m not going to lose you because of something stupid that I said.”
“Those three empty words will only make this worse. Say them again and I will throw all of your shit out of that window.”
“Empty?” His brows raised and he let your hands go. He scoffed slightly with a nod as he took a few steps away. “Empty words, huh?”
“What would you call them?” You countered, though seeing the hurt expression seemed to sap the anger from your bones.
You started to feel bad… But didn’t you want to hurt him? Make him feel the way you had, just moments before?
“I won’t keep saying those ‘three empty words’ but I am gonna say something else.” Matt said carefully, as if he had decided to choose his words more intently. “Will you hear me out now?”
“If something doesn’t change, we’ll just keep sinking further.” You warned hesitantly, more scared that you had gone too far than that Matt would cross a line. Granted, he had crossed one already but you had gotten over him hiding Daredevil from you so you figured you’d get over the whole Elektra issue with some time. But maybe you had screwed yourself out of that chance.
“I’m running out of things to say to you to get you to believe me.” He confessed, dropping into one of the armchairs out of defeat. “Just tell me this isn’t broken.”
“You tell me.” You shrugged.
“I’m trying.” He laughed, though there was no humor in the sound. It was a sound of stress, desperation even.
“Are you?” You challenged mindlessly, not even realizing you had said it until you watched Matt’s expression change.
“You, Y/N, are the most important person in my life. I could lose… I could lose everything, but as long as I have you… I can do anything as long as you’re with me.”
“Then why is she here?” You insisted, pointing at her with every word.
“Where else were we supposed to take her?” He asked in quiet resignation. “I couldn’t just leave her to die in that place.”
“Fine.” You gave up, rubbing your hands down your face as the sleep pushed your anger away and took its place across your body, making it grow three times as heavy. “Okay.”
“Don’t do that.” Matt shook his head. “Don’t just conceed.”
“I don’t wanna fight anymore.” You admitted through a yawn. “We’re tired.” You reasoned. “We can’t take it anymore… Let’s just get some sleep. And deal with this tomorrow, probably after we both get off work.”
“Y/N.”
“Matthew.”
“Look, before you go to bed, can I say one more thing?” He jumped to his feet and came to stand in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.
“Yeah, just make it quick.” You shrugged.
He placed your hands over the center of his chest, allowing you to feel his pulse thump steadily under your fingers. His hands stayed over yours and you had to bite down the smile as you looked up at him. You felt the subtle movement of his fingers, ensuring that the wedding ring was still on your finger. His head was tilted towards you and he wore the smallest of smiles when he found it, which would seem normal at any other time.
“You mean everything to me, my love… I never meant to hurt you and I’ll do whatever I can to prove that to you. I’d hate to lose you over something like this.”
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beefrobeefcal · 3 months
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Some angst??? Idk. Maybe there’s something here. You decide.
This is after Frankie tells mouse that he is as big as he wants to get. Mouse, being the wonderful partner she is, listens to his request and stops encouraging any extra ~indulging~ to help him maintain/lose weight.
BUT each time they pass a gelato shop without going in or mouse says no to a dessert menu, it stings. It’s as if he’s been left hanging for a kiss or like he’s been left on read.
Food has become an avenue of affection, and now that it’s closed he’s realizing how much it means to him. And even though he’s the one that asked for this, he feels like he’s going crazy being denied in this way.
To Nonnie, Love Beefro
The bitch is back. Need we say more?
--------<3---------
Beefro Proudly Presents:
a Chubby!Frankie one shot
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The Catfish & The Mouse: All Pent Up & Nowhere to Go
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pregnant Fem!Reader
Summary: A communication breakdown causes a lot of angst.
Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)
Word Count: 3,546
Content Warning: weight talk, angsty angsty, self esteem issues, communication breakdown, allusions to oral (f-receiving), feederism talk, car smut, masturbation, p in the v, established relationship
Author's Notes: I know this deviated from the original ask, but I hope this suffices, Nonnie. It's not as sweet or innocent as I think you were looking for. Thank you @xdaddysprincessxx for beta'ing & offering ideas! Thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for also beta'ing & being their every awesome supportive self.
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Things were rough, that much was true. After the night that Frankie had confided in you that he felt he was big enough then thinking out loud about how maybe he was getting too big, you’d done your best to keep his meals at standard portions and not offered anything indulgent to him. 
On a Saturday, Benny had stopped by to return the snow shovel he’d borrowed from Frankie. Having not seen him in a while, you stepped back into the house to let the guys catch up. But you heard everything through the kitchen window as the guys chatted in the backyard. 
“Fish! Holy shit! You losing weight? Last I saw you, you looked... you were bigger!”, Benny chirped with a huge smile on his face, patting Frankie on the shoulder. 
“Yeah... well, you know... was getting pretty big... wanna keep the Mrs. Happy...” 
You almost dropped the knife while you were chopping vegetables.  
You peaked out the window and saw Benny’s face twist in confusion as he looked at Frankie. “I... dude, I thought... I mean, if you’re serious about it, I could always use your help. Trying to become a personal trainer... you know, I need to personally train someone...?” 
It wasn’t like Frankie hadn’t specifically said to you that he might be too big, but the way you jumped at his words and completely changed how you fed him – how you cared for him – was jarring. To see his portion sizes shrink so quickly and not be offered a dessert was disappointing for him. At the rate you changed everything, he couldn’t help but feel that you had wanted him to lose weight. Were you embarrassed to be seen with him like that? Were you glad to have a smaller partner? Did his body disgust you and were you doing a good job being supportive?  
Frankie’s mind would churn and whirl through every insecurity almost nightly as you slept peacefully next to him. When Benny offered to help him slim down further, he thought you would be happier, but it only made him feel worse about himself, and he didn’t know how to tell you. He didn’t want to disappoint you.  
Almost four months since Benny offered, Frankie had shrunk. Not by mass proportions, but enough that his silhouette was definitely smaller. It could have been because he wasn’t constantly heaving around a big, full belly anymore, but his clothing was no longer pulled tight across his middle. You did your best not to say anything about his body or comment on his eating, and despite your disappointment at his changing physique, you kept up a supportive and positive attitude. You had no idea that withholding that was eating Frankie up inside. 
The positive side of this was that Frankie’s broad shoulders were definitely broader and his arms were thicker and more muscular. But Frankie was miserable; he missed how you looked at him adoringly as he ate, or how you would squirm under his weight. He’d pulled away and was irritated almost all the time when he was home. He'd barely touched you in the past two months, and it left you wondering why he had become so removed. You’d tried talking to him, crawling onto his lap in nothing but a smile, but he’d declined, saying something along the line of being tired. Needless to say, the dejection had caused your vibrator and dildo collection to increase. 
Frankie texted you on a Friday evening and said he was going to the gym with Benny, and you could eat without him.  Your heart sank when you read the message and you ate your pathetic peanut butter and jam sandwich alone at the table. Your sadness quickly turned to anger with a smack of horniness; he’d gone from needing to make you scream his name and come on his hands, mouth and cock almost daily to barely looking at you, and you had only done what you thought he wanted you to. Not bothering to clear the table, you stomped off to your bedroom and grabbed one of your toys from the drawer. It was a newer one that was specifically used on your clit, and it was the closest thing to his mouth you could get. Not bothering to look at the time, you got to work, making yourself whine and pant, starting the ritual you’d created every time you missed his touch.  
You were so engrossed and close to climax that you didn’t hear Frankie’s truck pull up or the door open. You didn’t hear him come down the hallway because he no longer called out your name; he had stopped doing that a month ago. You didn’t hear him standing in the hallway, rocking between his feet anxiously, listening to you pulling those sounds that he used to out of your mouth. You didn’t hear the hurt that was boiling over into frustration and anger in his mind.  
You did, however, hear the bedroom door open as you came, and when your eyes met his, you barely recognized the broad, angry man standing in your doorway. 
“What. The. Fuck.”, he snarled through gritted teeth. In his heightened state, he couldn’t differentiate whether his anger was at you for what you were doing or at him for not willing to do it to you himself. 
“Frankie... baby... hi...”, you said softly, reaching your hand out to him, beckoning him to join you. 
“What the FUCK is that?”, he barked, clearly hurt, and pointing to the vibrator in your hand. 
You jumped at his harsh, loud tone, then closed your legs and pulled your knees to your body. Swallowing hard, you tried to find your voice, “Honey... I just... I needed...” 
He stepped into your room, his hulking form at the end of the bed. His eyes darted between your face and the vibrator. For the first time ever in your relationship, he felt unneeded and replaced. Betrayal broke out on his face, and he yelled, “You needed what? To replace me? Let me know I can’t keep you happy, so you put of a fucking show for me to come home to?” 
This was not your Frankie. Why was he mad? He’d never been angry before when he’d walk in on you masturbating in the past. He used to take it as the warm up act before he got to the main event, even telling you to finish for him before he got involved.  
“Baby... honey, no! I could never replace you! I just... I wanted a release... I didn’t think it was a big deal!” 
“That’s why you had to hide it then, huh?”, he yelled again, this time, sadness and hurt clearly in his voice. He didn’t know how to tell you the deep hurt he felt, thinking you were hiding this from him; thinking you didn't want him anymore, “Wait till I’m not home and then fuck yourself? Don’t need me anymore?” 
You saw his body language show more than his words could say. He was hurting and had been hurting for a while. You had no clue that he was making this whole big change for you, and now you’d basically told him that after all that hard work, you’d replaced him. No, you had no idea what was running through his head. All you knew was that you were tired of being rebuffed and ignored and wanted to give yourself some much needed pleasure and release and he was mad at you for it. 
“How fucking dare you! You barely even look at me anymore – let alone touch me – and you want to give me shit for wanting to-to feel good?”, you yelled back, standing up from the bed. His face fell and his big brown eyes widened. Your emotions were getting the better of you, and you could feel the hot tears begin to flood your eyes. Your voice cracked. “What is happening, Frankie? Talk to me!” 
He said nothing. He just turned and hurried out of the room, and you heard the back door slam shut and the garage door open. You waited to hear the truck start, but nothing came. You grabbed your things from the bathroom and bedroom and settled into the guest room. 
After having a shower in the guest bathroom, you’d crawled into the guest bed and tried to sooth yourself by scrolling through your phone. It was only once you heard Frankie come back into the house that you put your phone down. You saw his shadow pass the guestroom door, heading to your room, and then come back out and hover in front of the door. You wanted to call out to him, but it seemed fruitless. He’s turned down so many of your advances and chances to open up, you figured this was it. If he wanted it, he had to make the move. 
Your heart broke for a second time that night as the shadow retreated back down the hallway, and you heard your bedroom door close. 
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Your night was restless; you tossed and turned, never able to find a spot that was comfortable. By the time morning light was pouring in through the window, you’d resigned to the fact that you were not going to get more than a few hours of sleep.  
As you laid in bed, trying to decide how to tackle the awkwardness that was sure to come from your next interaction with Frankie, your phone buzzed and your heard his buzz, too, from the next room.  
Calendar Reminder! - 12:00 pm – Taste of the Town! Food Truck Festival 
You groaned quietly, turning off the reminder. You’d bought tickets months ago for this, before Frankie’s health kick, at his request. You’d already made up your mind that he wouldn’t want to go – you weren’t going to make him – and opened up your messages to ask the group chat if anyone wanted the tickets.  
As you typed, a notification popped up from Frankie.  
You still wanna go? 
You were stunned. You knew he knew you’d read the message, and you wanted to answer, desperately clawing at any shred of attention he was willing to give you, but he was still on your shit list. 
Was gonna ask the guys and Hannah if they wanted the tickets. Assumed you wouldn’t want to.  
Through the walls, you heard him get out of bed and rip open the bedroom door. You got out of bed and waited for him to come bursting through the guestroom door, but instead he knocked. 
“Mouse? I-I think... I want to go with you. Might be fun, baby...” 
His voice was soft and pleading, and it made you melt. But you wanted an apology, an explanation!  
“It’s okay... I know it’s not your thing anymore...” 
The door opened up and Frankie stood in front of you with an adorable pout on his face.  
“No. I want to go. With you. I want to go with you.” 
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You’d conceded and now that you were standing outside in the sunshine with Frankie as he ate a hot dog, you were glad you did. While the conversation was a bit awkward and stilted, he was at least talking to you.  
You mind wandered, watching the other happy couples walking hand in hand, when Frankie’s voice pulled you back.  
“Mouse? You gonna eat that?” 
You turned to him, then looked where he was pointing – at your hot dog.  
“Oh... no. Go ahead.”, you said quickly. Then as he grabbed it and was about to take a bite, you blurted out, “Are you sure you want another one?” 
You knew it was wrong as you watched Frankie’s eyes fall. He closed his mouth and put the hot dog down onto the picnic table, and sulked. You felt horrible. 
“Honey... I didn’t mean to stop you. I just thought...” 
“Thought what?”, he interjected in a cold, quiet tone. “Thought if I ate that you’d have a fat boyfriend again?” 
You froze, feeling the lump in your throat start. Is that what you had become? That girlfriend? “No... No, I thought it’s what you... I - never mind. You enjoy it, okay?” 
He didn’t look up at you. You did your best to keep the tears at bay, but it was quickly going to be a fruitless endevour. You got up from the table, trying and failing to keep your voice from breaking, “I’m going to get us something to drink, okay?” 
If he tried to stop you or say something, you didn’t know; you were already moving away from him, discreetly wiping your eyes.  
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The rest of the afternoon was quiet and somber. Frankie had eaten your hot dog, but avoided anything else except the lemonade you brought him. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you didn’t want this to go on any longer. 
“Frankie?” 
“Hmmm?” 
“I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I don’t know what I did to fuck this up, but I want to make it better.” 
He stopped and looked at you. You felt his eyes look over your face, examining you. And he was. He was looking for his Mouse; his sassy, hot tempered, spitfire Mouse. Instead, he saw you looking the way you had for months, and he’d ignored it – sad and scared. He pulled you into a hug and it felt different; not just from the bit of weight he’d lost, but the emotion behind it, and you couldn't place what it was be it felt final. 
“I’m sorry, too, baby.” 
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The ride home was quiet; the only sound was the radio on a low volume. You noticed up ahead that traffic was backing up on the highway, and as Frankie slowed the truck to a stop, he swore under his breath. 
Then you heard it. His tummy grumbled. Frankie was hungry. 
“Do you still keep snacks in your truck?” 
Your quiet question broke through the silence and was met with an irritated sigh from Frankie. 
“No. Benny helped me clean it all out.” 
“I have a granola bar in my purse.” 
You pulled out the little, wrapped bar and held it out for him. After a brief hesitation, he took it and ate it. 
Silence. 
“You... you got any more?” 
You smiled to yourself and pulled another one out of your bag, handing it to him, and just as with the first, it disappeared quickly.  
“Can we talk? I feel like we haven’t had a real conversation lately... and I just wanna know how you're doing.”, you pleaded softly. You took a risk and placed your hand on his shoulder. 
He let out a huff. “I hate this.” 
You pulled your hand back and faced forward, and he quickly turned, grabbing your hand. 
“No! No no no! Mouse, no, honey! That’s not what I meant! I mean... I hate this diet!” 
“This diet?” 
He turned back, hand returning to the steering wheel. “Yeah... I hate it. I’m always hungry and I just feel like shit, and I don’t feel like myself and I know this is what you want, but - “ 
“Whoa! Wait... what I want?”, you interjected, sounding almost offended. 
“Yeah. You want this. “, Frankie eyed you before finishing, “... don’t you?” 
“I... no! I thought you wanted this!” 
“Why would you think that?!”, he snapped. 
“Be-because you said you thought you were getting too big so I asked if you wanted to make a change and you said yes! I was trying to be supportive!” 
You didn’t mean to yell that at him, but you were so wound up and just as confused as he was. 
You stared at each other until a horn honking broke the silence. Frankie quickly turned and got the truck moving again. 
“You did this for me? Not because... not because you hated how I looked?” 
You stared at him aghast. “How are you even asking that?!” 
“You made me do it so quickly! Like all of sudden you... you just stopped. Stopped everything! It’s like you wanted it and as soon as I said it, you were elated!” 
“Oh my god, no! Frankie, no! I always felt selfish giving you all this food, and then you said you might not be happy with it... I love how happy I can make you with food and I never stopped! I put the same energy I would have into feeding you into... into not doing it as much!”, you said frantically. “Why didn’t you say anything?  Is this why you’ve ignored me? Why you’ve-you’ve cut me out? Is this why you don’t like me anymore? Don’t want to be around me?” 
Frankie slammed on the brakes and the whole truck lurched. He looked at you with wide eyed, his mouth open in shock. 
The horn behind you sounded again, and if not for the moving traffic, you were sure that that Frankie was ready to jump out and punch the guy behind you’s lights out. 
As soon as an opportunity presented itself, Frankie exited the highway and pulled into a parking lot. He threw the truck into park and ripped his seat belt off, then jumped out of the truck. You stayed put, watching him stalk around to the passenger side and rip the door open.  
“What?!”, he barked, breathing heavily with a panicked face. 
“What??”, you asked back, just as panicked as he was. 
“You think I don’t like you?! That I don’t want to be around you?” 
“Yes!”, you cried out softly, grabbing his face. “You keep pushing me away and I don’t know why!” 
His eyes searched yours before he spoke. 
“Tell me you want me to enjoy eating again.” 
“I... what? Frankie, I’m trying to be serious here!” 
“So am I! Say it! If you mean it, say it!” 
“I...” 
“Tell me you want me to eat everything on my plate.”, he growled, reaching around and unbuckling your seat belt. “Tell me you want me to hit my fucking limit every day at dinner.” 
You felt heat pooling in your core. This was the most animated and hottest you’d seen him in so long.  
“I want -” 
“Tell me you wanna watch my clothes get too small again.” 
He pushed you back and crawled up on the bench and shoved his knee right up to your cunt as he hovered over you.  
“Tell me you want a fat guy to fuck you.” 
“I want you to get fat again and fuck me.” 
From the outside, it was clear what was happening in the truck. The door was wide open and your only saving grace was that you were in a parking lot for a nightclub, and it was 2:30 pm. Regardless, Frankie ate you out in the front seat of the car and you finally made it home around 5:00pm – just in time for dinner. 
You made sure he finished everything you made – lasagna of course! Then, instead of Frankie hoisting himself to the couch, he backed you down the hallway to your bedroom.  
“Never wanna go that long again without your pussy on my mouth, princess...” 
You whined as you gripped his full – albeit smaller – belly. He grunted and one of your hands slid down to his hard cock in his jeans.  
“I don’t want these jeans to fit you anymore, Frankie...”, you cooed as you palmed his cock. “Wanna watch you struggle getting them up... got too skinny for me...” 
Frankie made a groaning sound as his eyes rolled and he shoved you onto the bed. You got your clothes off and frantically helped him remove his and you pulled him down on top of you.  
“Fuck! I missed this!”, you growled, biting his ear lobe.  
He shifted and laid on his side and pulled you into a feverish kiss. As your mouths danced, his hand slid between your legs. He groaned again with how wet you were. 
“Can’t wait... need to fuck this pussy... need to feel it, princess.” 
You nodded dumbly, shoving him to his back and crawling onto him. You spat in your hand, gave his cock a few pumps, then positioned yourself over him and sank down.  
You both let out long, low moans, finally feeling like the missing puzzle piece was found. You started moving and his hands gripped your hips, keeping pace. 
“Say it, princess... say it” 
“I’m gonna make you so fat, Frankie...” 
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Benny pulled up to your house, determined to find out why Frankie had started coming up with excuses to avoid work outs. It had been almost two months since the last time he showed up and he’d looked like he’d put on a little weight then. 
“Fish? Mouse? Anyone home?”, he yelled, banging on the door. 
Frankie was sitting on the couch, letting dinner settle, and smiled at you then motioned for you to stay seated.  
“I’ll get it.” 
As soon as the door opened, Benny knew exactly why he wasn’t coming to work outs. Frankie’s stuffed belly was almost nearing where it was when Benny started working with him, and the shirt he was wearing looked to be at its maximum tension.  
He grinned and gently elbowed Frankie’s belly. “See you’re putting in a different kind of work, huh, Fish?” 
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TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @tightjeansjavi@rubyfruitjungle @lilmizmoz
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jeonqkooks · 1 year
Note
hello, my angel! congrats on your anniversary for starters hehehehe, i love you!
for the drabbles requests, could you do:
21 and 41 - smut
or
8 and 9 - fluff
thank you 🥰
velvet cherry | jjk (m.)
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pairing: jungkook x reader
prompts: "call me that again." + "lay down and stay still."
rating: 18+ (minors dni)
genre: exes to lovers (??), agent/spy au (idk it's pretty vague but all you need to know is that their profession is smth like this!), some fluff, some angst, definitely smut
warnings: mentions of injuries, mentions of violence (gunshots, blood), mentions of death, cursing, shower sex, unprotected sex (this is fictional. don't do it irl, be smart dudes), fingering, a lil dirty talk, UNEDITED bc i'm a menace :p
word count: 5.9k
note: pauli bby!! thank you for the request hehehe. the initial idea i had for this request was different but i was watching bad and crazy (kdrama) and every time lee dong wook has an action scene i'm just sitting there in front of my laptop, full on thirsting bc 🤤🥵 and i just had to channel it into this piece!!
— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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Everyone is yelling, screaming. Even the force trying to shake you into consciousness practically shouting in your face. Your head feels like it’s been split into two even without all of the loud noises threatening to deafen you. Your body hurts. You’ve definitely bruised your ribs, if they aren’t already broken. Even your face, which remains unmoving, aches from the simple act of breathing.
Inhale. One, two, three…
Exhale. One, two, three…
Stay alive.
It would kind of really suck if you died right now.
Embarrassing, even.
“C’mon, c’mon, wake up! Y/N!”
Huh? You know that voice.
It feels like your eyes have been glued shut, but that voice is so familiar that your lids wrestle with weariness to get a look. It can’t be him, can it? How would he even know that you were here?
Does that mean this is heaven? Or the void, or wherever the fuck it is that people often preach about? You have never believed in an afterlife because any and all life ends after death. Your soul doesn’t enter another spiritual plane of existence; you just simply cease to exist. This has always been your stance on the matter, but now, as you listen to that voice desperately cursing out your name, you waver.
Because that’s the only way you can explain why he’s here.
Oh, so you did die?
“Y/N!”
Heaven, or the void, or wherever the fuck this is, sure is loud.
You force your eyes open despite the debilitating exhaustion eating away at you. It takes a moment for your vision to adjust to your poorly lit surroundings. From the corner of your eye, you see small fireworks erupting before their booming echoes reverberate throughout the room. The lead projectiles whiz above your head, right behind the silhouette of him hovering over you, calling for you, shielding you.
Once his face becomes your focal point, everything around you staticizes. You can’t find it in yourself to care about the screams, nor the gunshots, or even the gash in your side where a knife grazed you earlier.
Not when he’s looking at you like that. Like if you were to die, there’s not a single part of him that would hesitate to follow.
“I thought I recognized th–that voice.” You cough, feeling the cut on your lips open wider. You hadn’t noticed the metallic taste on your tongue until now. “Funny seeing you here, Jeon.”
The feeling in the pit of your stomach thickens. It could be relief, or it could be dread. The lights go out before you get a chance to decipher which one it is.
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The next time you wake, you jolt upright with a gasp. 
“Ah, shit,” you instantly groan; it feels like something sharp is jabbing into your abdomen. You brush your hand over the spot to find smears of crimson on your clothes, but the wound underneath doesn’t seem to be bleeding anymore.
Where the fuck is it now?
Your frantic eyes scan the room, expecting to find yourself still in that warehouse, hopelessly holding on for life while your teammates get killed one by one.
But you aren’t there anymore. There aren’t bodies scattered all around you nor bloodstains splattered carelessly on peeling walls. 
No, where you are smells like jasmine and fresh cotton. It’s warm and bright, and it’s filled with framed photos of a familiar dog that you once loved even more than his owner. The couch beneath you feels like a cloud carrying you through the pearly gates.
Arguably, this seems more like heaven. Or is it a twisted version hell? It feels like a stretch that someone like you could get into heaven, if there even is one.
“Welcome back, sleeping beauty.” His voice from behind startles you into action. You spring from the couch, or more like, you clumsily jump up only to be met with white hot pain that courses through your entire left side, and fall down onto the sofa again.
“Fuck!” you hiss through gritted teeth.
He rushes over, almost dropping the mug he was holding in his hand. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
Apologetic hands help you into a proper sitting position. You don’t know why or how, but it really is him.
Jeon Jungkook, what a sight for sore eyes. 
The discomfort you feel in your body takes a backseat momentarily as you stare at him and his beautiful doe eyes, shimmering with concern though it’s now much more diluted than before. He examines the stitches on your forehead and your side, it’s been a while since he’s done this.
“Y/N, are you okay?”
You snap back into reality at the sound of this.
Fuck! How could it have possibly slipped your mind?
Your words come out in an uneasy rush. “Where’s Namjoon and the others?”
Jungkook stares at you, tongue in cheek, blinking in mild disbelief. Of course the first question you ask is about your team. You haven’t changed, he sees. “They’re at the hospital. They’re fine,” he says.
You close your eyes and heave a heavy sigh, visibly relaxing at his confirmation. When you turn to him again, you ask, “Where are we?”
“My apartment.”
“Why? Why am I not at the hospital with them?”
“You don’t remember?”
The confused look on your face tells him as much.
“You woke up while they were stitching you up. Nearly made a scene and everything. You kept saying you wanted to go home, but your place was trashed so I… brought you here.”
You wonder if you had actually demanded to be brought to his place specifically, after seeing him when you were so delirious before. You wonder if he’s just sparing you the embarrassment. “Oh,” you say simply, glancing around the room. You haven’t been here in a long time, but most of the things here are still the same.
“You haven’t answered my question. How are you feeling? Are you okay?”
You shrug, ignoring the throbbing pain that has dulled into a perpetual pinch in your side. “Of course I’m okay. Still alive and kicking.”
Jungkook’s brows furrow just the slightest. “You almost died tonight.”
“But I didn’t die, did I?”
“Why are you acting like it’s no big deal?”
Nostalgia washes over you in waves. You’ve had the same conversation a million times before.
“Because it isn’t that big a deal,” you say, feeling the urge to coat your words in a thick layer of bravery. “It’s not my first rodeo.”
“And that’s supposed to make it better? You could’ve died!”
“What is up your ass?” you ask jokingly, but it doesn’t sound right even to your ears. “You keep pushing it like you wanted me to die.”
Jungkook stares at you blankly, but you can tell that he’s agitated by your flippant attitude. You regret the words the very second you said them.
“That’s not funny,” he says, his voice strained.
Slightly ashamed, you look down at your hands and fiddle with your grimy fingers. “Y–yeah, I’m sorry. That was… too far.”
There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you watch him grit his teeth and attempt to exhale a steady breath. It comes out a little shaky, a sign of his frustration. He takes a few minutes to calm his nerves while you sit there in silence, not usually tongue tied around him but even you know that what you just told him was pretty fucked up. 
Finally, Jungkook says, “Get some rest. You had a long day.” He goes to help you up without you asking, still so considerate even when he’s trying to not be angry at you, but that’s not what you need right now.
“Can I take a shower first?” you ask.
“You just got your stitches a couple hours ago. You can shower in the morning.”
“I know. It’s… I’m covered in blood and dirt. I’d really like to wash it off.”
He looks at you as he considers it. This isn’t Jungkook’s first rodeo either. He had to deal with you countless times like this, when you’re freshly wounded but you don’t seem to give a damn about doing things that might hurt you even more.
“Suit yourself. You know where the bathroom is.”
You mutter a thanks as you let him pull you up from the cloud that he calls a couch. You could feel his eyes on you as you wobble to your desired destination, but even the short distance between his living room and bathroom proves to be a whole trek in your current condition. You’re surprised that you even made it to the hall when your legs finally gave out on you. You brace yourself against the wall, but one of Jungkook’s strong arms is already wrapped around your waist, steadying you before you could collapse.
“You should get some sleep. You can barely walk,” he urges gently.
“I feel like shit, Jeon,” you tell him. “I won’t be able to get any rest like this.”
“Y/N–”
“We both know you’re not talking me out of it. You can choose if you’re gonna help me or not, though.”
“You want me to help you… shower?”
“Will you?”
He won’t, you’re sure of this. Jungkook isn’t teasing or frivolous as you are. He doesn’t go around testing people’s patience like you do. The relationship didn’t end on bad terms, and you think he has deliberately kept it that way because you have to see each other at work so often, even though you’re assigned to different teams. You want to keep things light, to joke around with him, to essentially still be you and him minus the romance but Jungkook keeps you at arm’s length. And if you’re honest, you can’t blame him for that. That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t suck sometimes; you used to love him after all.
He looks pensive for a moment, and you don’t know why he’s even pretending to consider it when he’ll just say no anyway. You’re prepared for him to reject you and leave you to your own devices, but then–
“Fine,” Jungkook says, voice flat, eyes blank. “C’mon, I’ll help you.” It surprises you into complete stillness, wondering if the doctors and nurses fucked up when they were stitching up your head. The man in front of you raises an eyebrow when you don’t respond to him, as if he’s challenging you, which staggers you even more because he usually doesn’t entertain your outrageous ideas like this. Especially not after you parted ways.
You blink a couple of times and find your voice from where it’s stuck to the back of your throat. “Okay then. Lead the way.”
Jungkook guides you down the hall and into the bathroom. You think he’s just baiting you, challenging you back to see if you would actually be okay with hopping into the shower with your ex because even though it isn’t that scandalous of an idea to you, it is to Jungkook. You expect him to back out any second now, but once you’re standing under the warm white light of his bathroom, he asks if he could take off your clothes.
Have you underestimated him?
You nod your head, eyeing him with a smug smile tugging at the corner of your lips and a barely-there layer of underlying nervousness. His face gives nothing away. So you two are really going to do this, huh?
Jungkook peels off your bloodied shirt, careful not to let his fingers brush against your skin though they will have to in just a few minutes. He averts his gaze as he helps you step out of your clothes until you’re completely bare.
You mistake his reluctant eye contact for shyness. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you joke.
True.
But no, that’s not the reason why he refuses to look at you.
He hated seeing you in pain, covered in bruises and cuts. It’s why the two of you broke up. You were too stubborn to quit, and he couldn’t stand watching you treat yourself like mere collateral damage, as long as you get the job done.
It wasn’t that you couldn’t take care of yourself. In a lot of ways, you’re far more capable and skilled than he is. But sometimes you can be reckless, a little too hot headed for your own good, a little too heedless of your own safety than he can handle. 
He loved that you were remarkable at what you do; it’s what drew him to you in the first place. When you used to spar together, at the beginning of your relationship, he loved that you could kick his ass so easily. Sometimes, even on his best days, he was still no match for you.
But what’s the point in dwelling? None of that matters anymore.
Jungkook takes off his own clothes then, and you resist the urge to focus on his body too much. He’s gotten even more muscular than the last time you got to see him naked. Hard pecs that are practically popping in your face, solid abs that demand to be touched… Well, this is going to be… interesting.
He tests the water first before he lets you go in. When you finally do, you sigh as the warm water rains down on your skin, enveloping you in a liquified blanket of comfort. You’re trying not to let your eyes wander, you really are.
You hum happily when he smooths the shampoo over your hair. As his fingers massage your scalp gently, a soft moan escapes your throat. The sound travels straight to his groin, making him stiffen just a little bit and poke into your thigh. You bite your bottom lip to suppress a giggle but Jungkook just clears his throat awkwardly. Getting a boner feels inappropriate in a moment like this, when you’re his ex and you had nearly died earlier tonight.
But he isn’t responsible for the way his body chooses to react, not really. You’re showering together, for fuck’s sake. Though to be fair, he has no one to blame but himself for this irrational decision.
When he lathers you up with his body wash, you decide to do it again, just to tease him. As his hands start kneading one of your breasts, you let out a slightly exaggerated moan.
He knows you’re doing it on purpose, but his dick is stupid and it hardens regardless. “Quit it,” Jungkook says.
“Quit what?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him coquettishly. You put a hand on his chest, then trails it lower to graze his defined abs. “You look like you’re enjoying it, no?”
He doesn’t answer you, choosing to focus on his task of washing you instead, as if ignoring you will make you stop whatever it is you’re doing.
You trace your fingers along his V-line until you wrap your hand around him, making him hiss as you touch him. You give him a few lazy pumps until his member is standing tall and proud, just for you.
“Y/N…” Jungkook grits his teeth and swallows thickly. The steam is suffocating him. You are suffocating him.
“You can tell me if you don’t want it.” You tilt your head up, letting your face inch closer to his until your breath fans his lips. You feel him grip your waist – an act of restraint – then quickly loosen his hands around your body as if he suddenly remembered that you’re still battered up. You brush your lips against his, just testing him. You both know a kiss would be so much more intimate than what you’re doing to him down there.
He parts his lips slightly, the temptation is getting too strong to resist. You cloud his judgment the same way the hot water encloses the room in a mystifying haze. He presses forward to capture your lips, only to feel himself completely melt against you in an instant. 
You taste like longing, like regret. Something like a needle pierces right through his heart when you give him a needy sigh, muffled by his own lips. 
He knows he shouldn’t do this, but is it a mistake? Even if it is a mistake, he can’t find it in himself to stop, now that it has already started. You’re still as alluring and captivating as ever, and he’s still the same Jungkook who always fell to his knees for you.
“Touch me,” you whisper.
“Y–you’re hurt,” Jungkook rasps. Is that the only reason? There’s no conviction behind his words and he knows you know it. If he was really against this, then he would’ve stopped you already.
“Please.” Your voice is different, desperate, when you say this. He can’t tell if you’re crying or not because of the water still glistening on your face, but it doesn’t matter. When your hand guides one of his between your legs, he squeezes his eyes shut, searching inward for that last bit of self-control that’s nowhere to be found right now. You’re so fucking slick, and as his middle finger slides through your sodden folds to find your entrance, your head falls upon his shoulder.
“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, barely audible to you over the sound of running water. You’re hurt. He knows he should stop, but he can’t. His thumb finds your clit in no time, and nudges it the way he remembers you liked. You choke on an exhale, now grinding against his hand and gripping his biceps to keep yourself upright. He rubs you leisurely as the water cascades down your bodies. A part of him thinks he’s twisted for enjoying the quiet whimpers you let out.
“Are you sure?” he asks, both hoping for and dreading the answer you might give him.
“Yes,” you confirm. You press his hand harder against your core, as if you’re begging him to pleasure you. “Make me feel better.”
Jungkook slides two digits into you before he slants his mouth over yours, swallowing the moan that you instantly keen out. You’re wet enough that his fingers can drive in and out of you without much mercy from the get-go. He buries them in you until he’s knuckles deep, scissoring you open how he always did to prepare you for his cock.
“Fuck, Jeon,” you purr, rolling your hips to meet the thrusts of his hand. “That’s good.”
“Yeah?” He smirks, finding that spot inside of you that never fails to make your legs shake. His strong arm holds you flush against his body as he relentlessly fingers you, absolutely loving the way your juices run down the back of his hand. There’s a sense of arrogance in the way he fucks you, even though he was hesitant about it just moments ago. The quivering moans that you grace him with are fucking addicting. At least for now, he has you. Standing in his shower, begging him for release, whispering in his ear things that he hasn’t realized how much he’s missed hearing until this very second.
His fingers ram into you until your inner walls are pulsing around him and your voice hitches beautifully. “Fuck!” you cry, holding onto him as the high crashes down on you, sending shockwaves throughout your entire body. You grind down on his hand, wanting so desperately to prolong the pleasure like you’re afraid he’ll take it away from you. Jungkook would never dream of giving you anything less than what you deserve, so he maintains the momentum of his thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm even when you clench so tightly around his digits that it becomes more difficult to move. He helps you through it until your breath no longer comes out in heavy pants, until the only stars you see are the ones in his eyes.
As he withdraws his fingers, you give him a chaste kiss as if to say thank you. He doesn’t expect anything more; it’s enough that he could give you a helping hand in your time of need, make you forget about everything even if it was only for a little while.
But then you’re deepening the kiss, one hand tugging on his hair as the other finds his hard cock again. He groans against your mouth, torn between asking you to keep going and letting you stop. “You don’t have to…” he mutters, placing a hand over yours.
“I want more,” you say breathily, but somehow it sounds almost demanding. “I want you.”
He stares at you with uncertainty in his eyes. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
Your answer comes in the form of a squeeze around his length, making his eyes flutter briefly as he rests his forehead against yours. “I can always take you.”
You watch Jungkook clench his jaw before he crashes his lips onto yours, promptly slipping his tongue into your mouth to draw the neediest of moans from you just by his kiss alone. He lifts you up by the back of your thighs and cages you between the wall and his chest. Your legs wrap around his waist as he presses his body against yours, slowly grinding his cock against your throbbing heat. You whimper when his tip nudges your sensitive clit.
“I need you,” you cry out, rutting against him desperately. He hears it then – the vulnerability in your voice that you try to mask with desire – and that’s when he thinks he gets it. You’re shaken.
You were scared tonight. That’s not something that happens very often.
He was scared too. He nearly lost his mind when he heard the news that your team was ambushed. You should’ve seen his frantic state when he raced to the scene, heart speeding a thousand miles an hour at the mere thought of something happening to you. He prayed to every god he didn’t believe in that you’d be okay, that the phone call he received minutes prior was just a sick prank someone was playing on him.
“I’ve got you,” Jungkook says, diving in to kiss you again. There’s a lot more to those words than either one of you would like to admit.
You both sigh when he pushes in, and although it’s been a long while since your bodies knew one another like this, there’s barely any resistance. He fits perfectly  like you were made for each other. He’s bigger than you remember, already feeling so good inside of you that you think you could come with just a few thrusts. Instead of moving, he stays there like he wants to memorize the feeling of you, so warm around him and so inviting. 
He was always the sentimental one.
“Move,” you whine, still bossy in a moment like this. He chuckles against your mouth before trailing his lips tantalizingly slowly across your jawline and down your neck to your breasts, where he sucks on your skin harshly, marking you. His hips pull back, making you moan from the delicious glide of him along your slickened walls, before they snap forward and set a pace that has your eyes rolling backward.
“Shit, nghhh…”
It’s like no time has passed at all. Jungkook still remembers everything you like, still knows your body like the back of his hand. You feel like you’re practically transcending the limits of space and time with every thrust of his hips and every motion of his mouth. The rough way that his fingers dig into your thighs to hold you up makes it so much more heightened as his lips wrap around one of your breasts, sucking it harshly into his mouth, his tongue laving at your hardened nipple. Now that you’re finally experiencing this again, you don’t know how you could go two whole years without it.
Every part of you misses him.
No one knows how to please you like he does.
“So fucking good…” Jungkook grunts, flicking your nipple with the wet muscle of his mouth. You arch your tits further into him as moans of unfiltered pleasure fall from you. Even as he fucks you into oblivion, he’s still mindful of your injuries. Strong hands kneading your skin roughly but softening when they brush over your bruised spots.
He tries not to pay much attention to your battle scars, but how could he not? He feels them under his fingertips everywhere they go. Some are from before you met him, some from after. Some he doesn’t recognize because you must have acquired them during your time apart. He always hated them. You used to tell him that you wore your scars proudly, that they are proof that you survived every horrible thing you’ve had to face.
That’s certainly one way of looking at it, but Jungkook hated them then and he hates them now. Not because he thought they made you ugly – no, nothing could make him see you as anything less than the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes upon – but because they remind him of all the times that you have had to suffer. They made him feel unworthy of you, for not being there to keep you safe.
But not like you would have let him anyway.
“Ah, fuck, Koo…”
His hips stutter in surprise. He’s not sure if you did it on purpose, or if it just slipped out in the heat of the moment.
“Call me that again,” Jungkook tells you. It doesn’t matter that the simple nickname brings up feelings he’s been trying so hard to suppress. It doesn’t matter that those feelings are damn close to spilling over the confines of his wretched little heart, that it will fucking hurt later when you leave He just needs to hear you say it again.
“Koo, fuck! Right there, keep doing that…”
He tears his mouth away from your chest to come up and chase your lips. His tongue slips inside to dance with yours, so much more intimate than it is dirty that it makes you dizzy beyond nostalgia. In a split second of weakness, it makes your heart want to be his once more. His thrusts are now even faster than before, harder and more calculated.
He pulls back enough to look at you and takes in the blissed look on your face, how your lips part when he hits your g-spot just right.  “Y/N, I…”
“I know,” you whimper, your nails digging into his back and leaving angry red trails in their wake as they drag downward. “I’m close too.”
That’s not what he was going to say. Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re too fucked out to notice it.
“C’mon, I’ve got you,” Jungkook resorts to saying. He keeps up the rhythm of his hips, determined to give you what you want the most. He’s pounding into you so impossibly deep that you can feel him in your guts, each thrust making the base of his cock grind against your aching clit. It feels so fucking good, you can’t even see straight anymore. His hand is unknowingly digging into a bruise on your leg but the pleasure is too overwhelming that you’ve stopped caring about the discomfort. This is exactly how you wanted him to fuck you – hard enough to make you forget the pain.
It hits you even harder than before. You cum with a cry of his name as your toes curl and your body shakes in his hold, stars exploding behind your eyelids when the orgasm wracks through you like an earthquake. Jungkook’s hips never cease their movements, fucking into you until you find enough strength to squeeze your walls around him and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss. He unravels then, filling you up endlessly with his warmth that you’re sure you’ll feel for days.
You stay like that for a while, just holding each other, until he softens inside of you and you feel your releases drip down your thighs and onto the floor. The water promptly washes away the remnants of your heated session. When he slips out and helps you to your feet, you want to chase it instantly – the feeling of him, with you, where he’s supposed to be.
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You aren’t fully present for everything that happens afterward. As Jungkook dries you off and dresses you, he feels something tug on his heart at the sight of you in his clothes. Your tired face and the way you lean into him, trusting him to keep you steady as he prepares you for bed. Trusting him to keep you safe, to protect you.
He can’t help it.
He tilts your head up by your chin and kisses you softly. Slow. His lips are gentle, but he’s sure of himself. This isn’t the first kiss you’ve shared tonight, but in many ways, it is.
When Jungkook pulls away, he doesn’t say anything. No excuses or explanations on why he chose to do it when the lust has waned and the moment is no longer heated enough to muddle his mind. You don’t ask for anything either; you just let him lead you into his bedroom. That doesn’t mean that you don’t want him to just tell you anyway.
He tucks you into his bed as if you’re a child. When he’s sure that you’re comfortable enough, he turns to leave.
You protest immediately. “Where are you going?”
“To the couch,” he says, like it’s obvious.
You sit up in order to push yourself from the bed, erasing his previous effort of tucking you in. “I’m not making you sleep on the couch in your own home.”
“Lay down and stay still,” Jungkook sighs before pushing you back onto the mattress again. “If I stay here with you, will you please sleep in the bed?”
You purse your lips, considering this for a moment before you compromise. “Yes.”
He turns off all the lights and makes his way to the other side of the bed, getting under the covers with you. You’re disappointed when he puts a little distance between your bodies. It’s not that you expected anything to come from your brief reunion, but your heart sinks regardless. Surely, sleeping in the same bed as your ex can’t be worse than having sex with him? You’ve already done the latter, but somehow this feels so much more intimidating.
You do what you do best when you don’t want to deal with your more difficult feelings – crack lame jokes and hope they’re enough to diffuse the tension. “Why are you so stiff? Scared that I’ll fuck you? Already did that, Jeon.”
Jungkook throws you a humorless chuckle. “Was that your plan all along? To seduce me?”
“It just happened,” you say. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure if you even wanted it before y’know… you popped a boner.”
If the silence in the room was a little bit louder, then you could probably hear the way he pauses halfway through a breath. He doesn’t entertain you for much longer, even though it feels like he’s got something on his mind.
He doesn’t ask what this means for the two of you, if it even meant anything. What’s the point in trying if the outcome is the same? His stance on the matter hasn’t changed at all. After what happened to you tonight, it just fueled him even more. He won’t deny that his feelings for you are still there, because he’d be the first to admit that they never went away to begin with. Jungkook would try, he would try for you a million times over, but in the end, where would that lead to if you wouldn’t even try for yourself? You’ll just keep breaking his heart day in and day out, over and over again if this recklessness of yours persists.
“Go to sleep, Y/N,” he says tiredly.
You bite your lip, disheartened that he’s shutting you out again, even though he has every right to. “Okay,” you mumble.
Despite the exhaustion submerging you like a tidal wave, you can’t find rest. You were conscious for barely half a minute when Jungkook found you in that abandoned warehouse, but you could hear the panic in his voice as he tried to shake you awake. He never had to find you like that before. When you were still together, every time you got hurt, you never let anyone call him until after your wounds had already been stitched up, until you were sure that you were good enough to crack a joke once he’d rushed to the hospital.
Tonight was the first time he saw you on death’s door. You didn’t know if he even cared anymore. You were scared to think that he didn’t.
But then you heard that voice of his, and you opened your eyes just long enough to see the tears fill his eyes. You were so out of it that you thought maybe, just maybe, there was a piece of his heart that still felt something for you. Something beyond just concern for an ex lover.
You don’t know how much time has passed, with you lying there staring into darkness. “Jeon, are you asleep?” you ask quietly, only to be met with silence from his side. Nothing but his steady breathing. You want him to be awake to hear you say it, though you’re not sure how you want him to react to it. The past 2 years have been hard. Your own guilt chews you up and spits you out every single day. The breakup was your fault, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just Jungkook who repeatedly expressed concerns for your safety. Your parents never wanted you to go into this line of work in the first place.
You were too selfish to really consider anyone but yourself. You and Jungkook both do the same thing – you go out and risk your lives every day. But back then, you didn’t understand why you should be the one to stop. Why not him? Why just you?
The difference between the two of you is clear as day. Jungkook knows when to stop, and you don’t. He wanted to be able to make it back home to you more than he wanted to catch a bad guy. He put you first. He put the people who loved him first.
“I think I’m going to quit.”
Your chest feels so much lighter as soon as the words leave your mouth. Something evaporates from within you, a burden that’s finally been lifted, and that’s how you know it’s the right decision. You aren’t doing it just for everyone who loves you but is terrified for your life all the time. You aren’t doing it just for Jungkook. You’re doing it for yourself too.
Peace finally finds you then, as though it’s been waiting for you this entire time.
You don’t mind that Jungkook is already asleep. You said it, and admitting to yourself that maybe it’s time to stop, is good enough. Having that conversation with him in the morning won’t be late. You’re already halfway to dreamland when you feel him right behind you, enveloping you in a warmth that’s so distinctly Jungkook. He carefully wraps an arm around you and pulls you close to his chest, close enough that it feels like his heart is beating right into yours. He sighs, like he’s wholly relieved too.
You can’t discern what he says next, but you can feel the kiss he presses against your hair.
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— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 11.01.23]
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qqtxt · 1 year
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i was thinking… what if yeonjun or beomgyu x fashion student s/o who mainly uses(idk if this is the right word😭) him as their muse and makes all projects and stuff based on their bf,,?
ahhh this is so cute!!! the way i jumped at this bc it made me giggly :") i explored a little for both, so hopefully that's okay! >:D enjoy!
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✿ pairing: beomgyu x reader, yeonjun x reader (both separate scenarios!) / non.idol!au / college!au / reader is a fashion major / fluff / minor cursing (none with ill-intention!) / word count: 242 words (beomgyu's), 284 words (yeonjun's) ✿ in which your favourite person is your muse for your creations and he's a little more than "okay" with helping you out... [masterlist 🌸] / yeonjun's is below the cut!
[🐯] accurate depiction
beomgyu adores being by your side whenever you're in your creative zone of doing sketches for upcoming designs. by no means is he a fashion student but he admires it all the more considering it's you. he had offered his lap as your seat a while ago and he's quietly watching you sketch the designs. 
paper after paper, sketch after sketch, it's the current one that you're working on quirks a smile on beomgyu's face when he notices the hairstyle, the silhouette and features of this one looks oddly like someone he knows that he suggests–"the arm should be a little shorter than that,"
with a raised brow, you lift the pencil from the paper to look at beomgyu, "hm?"
"i mean if you want it to be more accurate. my arm's shorter than that."
beomgyu watches as his words sink into your brain; clicking in your mind that you know he knows you're probably going to ask him to model for this new set of designs. (as if you hadn't asked him for the previous sets before that)
"it's okay, as long as it'll fit me properly when it's made," he snickers, resting his chin on your shoulder. you look back down on your sketch and don't intend on changing anything but the decision to add a small scribble of slightly shorter arm length made beomgyu chuckle as he presses a kiss to your neck and resumes being a quiet watcher.
[🦊] got it
"what's it going to look like this time?" yeonjun asks, trying to look at you despite the fact you're trying to take his back measurements. 
"it's going to look like the wrong size if you don't stop moving." you quip back and he quietly follows suit to stay still so that you can take the numbers to his body figure properly. when you've got all the details you need from him, you go back to the table only to have yeonjun's arms slide around your waist to get a peek at–"c'mon! i'm the model! shouldn't i get to look at what it looks like?"
you intend to cover it up with your hands but... with the way he's pleading with his best puppy eyes and a jutted-out bottom lip, you sigh and move your hands from the sketch for him to get a look. initially, you were feeling a little antsy about the design but the way yeonjun's eyes light up and the gasp he lets out is more than enough to reassure you that–"it looks amazing! i can't believe i get to wear it!"
"you think it's cool?"
"cool?! i think it's fantastic!" he exclaims–excitement buzzing his veins–but after a couple of beats, he notices the small smile on your face that settles on your lips. it was uncertainty, the anxiety lingering in your veins. he focuses on you now, gently turning you around so he can get a good look at you.
"it's as amazing as you are. and you should feel confident and proud," his hands cup your cheeks, giving your head a light shake, "got it?" 
gingerly, your hands reach up to lap over his with a grin, "got it."
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eusion · 1 month
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪and july ⌒☆
pairing ⌒☆ college!nicholas x reader
word count ⌒☆ 1.2k
content ⌒☆ drinking, slightly suggestive
note ⌒☆ idk this has been sittin in my drafts
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"this skirt is riding up my ass ... "
on a normal friday night u usually find urself staying in ur apartment, tucked away in ur knitted blanket while chipping away at missing assignments. although 90% of the time ur on ur laptop, ur usually online shopping or binge watching a random tv show on hulu. its been a long week for u, finally finishing ur midterms all while juggling ur work responsibilities. u never settled for an easy-going lifestyle and u were fine with that. if anything, fulfilling ur own responsibilities was more than enough to keep u satisfied.
thus, u have never had a boyfriend. u never found it in urself to spark up conversations with anyone other than ur friends or teachers. no one particularly peaked ur interest and u never felt the societal pressure of finding someone to like. and by no means were u ever deemed unattractive, u knew u had a few admirers urself, but it was not something u paid any attention to.
the amounts of 'ur single?' 'uve never kissed anyone?' 'yeah, but what about this guy?' felt endless. it turned u off from the idea of relationships even more.
so u werent sure how or why u managed to get pulled out of the comfort of ur room with nothing but a pair of heels and a short, skimpy dress. tugging at the hem of ur skirt attempting to cover up what was left of ur dignity deemed to be useless, only revealing bits of ur strapless bra the more u pulled it down. ur two friends were frequent party goers, knowing most of frat row since theyre there every free weekend they have.
the cold air bites against ur skin and u start regretting that u didnt bring ur nice leather jacket. as u clutch onto ur friends arms for dear life, u all finally make it to the front door of a house uve seen in passing from ur daily walks to campus. seeing it at night was so much different from what u were used to. the windows were filled with colorful flashing lights with silhouettes of people having conversations and dancing. some people were standing on the lawn outside passing around what seemed to be half a blunt, a man passed out right in the middle of their group.
"lucky we dragged u along for this party! this might be one of the good ones" ur friend excitedly knocks on the door, rubbing against ur own arm for warmth. u werent sure why u were nervous, u never found it hard to talk to people but for some reason u felt like u were going to go into cardiac arrest. ignoring the constant calls from the men settled on the lawn who were obviously drunk. u were completely distracted from the noise that u didnt even notice that the front door finally opened.
"leave them alone man" said a taller male, throwing an empty cup at the group of men on the lawn. followed by a string of yells & protests, u glance up and find ur friends joking around with the dude that just littered. his hair was black and slightly long, one ear having a dangly earring. hes wearing a black shirt that hugs his frame a bit too nicely along baggy ripped jeans equipped with chains. as ur observing him, his eyes glance over, raising an eyebrow at u. almost in a teasing way, he sends a u toothy smile, glancing over his shoulder and resting his arm against the frame of the door.
"entry is $5, but for you, i can let u in for free"
all u could do was slightly part ur mouth in response, no words coming out. was he serious? ur friends roll their eyes in unison obviously used to this man's behavior, shoving past his frame followed by a "very funny, nicholas". u follow promptly behind since all ur arms were still tightly linked, and as u looked behind ur shoulder to check back at the front door, he was shooting u another signature smile before walking off to find his own crowd.
several shots in & three hard seltzers later, u became a lot more loose around the huge crowd of people. u found a few familiar faces that shared a couple of classes with u, each person almost shocked that u even came to a function like this. all u could do was shoot a smile, cheers their can with ur own & walk away to mingle. it was hot & steamy on the main floor, every person who was wearing glasses having fogged up lenses. 'this isnt terrible' u thought. its almost as if a lightbulb lit u above ur head after realizing going out every once in a while is a good thing.
ur phone pinged for the tenth time and besides ignoring it like u have for the majority of the night, u flip ur screen over to find that u have an assignment due at midnight tonight. curses & panic run through your mind, bringing urself to the staircase to walk up to the empty level of the house. ur back crashes against the wall as u slide down, reading the canvas post as u begin drafting out ur paper right then and there. ur fingers are rapidly typing all while thinking 'im never going to finish this ...'
"u seem fun at parties"
ur brows furrow in response, breaking contact with ur phone, ur eyes settle on someone a lot more pleasant.
"go on. dont let me stop u"
that same toothy grin was lit up by the rgb lights in the hallway, taking a seat right next to u as he sips on the warm jungle juice. ever since u came here, u were never in the right state of mind especially after all of those shots. focusing on ur assignment was difficult in a setting like this ... and even more difficult now that theres a very attractive man breathing over ur shoulder.
"do u mind ..." u shoot, back now slightly facing towards him in attempts to cover ur phone screen. ur fingers are busy typing but somehow there are zero words written for this assignment. u have about 40 minutes left until midnight.
u almost couldnt stand his overwhelming presence right next to u. the scent of his cologne was strong even through the smell of the dark, musty house. ur ears shut the music out once u notice something moving in the corner of ur eye, his hand snatching ur phone away faster than u can react. the alcohol in ur system didnt make ur response time any better, and honestly, neither did his.
"give that back, ur gonna send in an empty assignment ... "
he laughs at watching ur attempts at retrieving ur device back, his arm raised up high in the air as u lean over trying to retrieve it. all of this commotion, u dont even realize ur dress riding up high on ur thighs, a strap of ur dress falling off of ur shoulder.
its no doubt nicholas notices how vulnerable u are. he wasnt sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that ur practically half-naked in front of him. with wavering eyes, he clears his throat, quickly tossing ur phone on ur lap before grabbing a discarded jacket that was left in the hallway by a random and wrapping it around ur shoulders.
u watch as he gets up, softly patting at ur head before heading back downstairs. it wasnt clear to someone like u who was extremely faded, but a clear blush was spread across his face.
"u got at least 30 minutes to finish that assignment, u got this"
and 30 minutes later ...
u didnt finish ur assignment.
instead, u were left in the hallway, simmering in ur own thoughts of nicholas.
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bluewinnerangel · 2 years
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While I'm still mentally screaming about the My Policeman red carpet look I also wanna point out a possible intentional difference between the Don't Worry Darling and MP looks for both the press conference and red carpet.
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DWD press conference (left) vs MP press conference (right), basically here the why i think he might be comparing the two if you will through outfits: the jackets are the same but in another color. And the same goes for the red carpet looks. It's pretty simple lol, but lemme explain... Remember he (and Lambert) have done so before, at the 2021 Grammy's for instance, where Lambert explained they went for "polar opposite" looks while keeping the same silhouette, and here I think something similar has been done again. (that's also what got me started on that fking color negatives bs but this isn't about that but it's part of the post so there's that) Pretty much the story is in the difference between the two, the one helps puts emphasis on the significance of the other.
Details:
DWD:
white jacket
blue nails
blue bandana scarf covering bananadicknecklace
bird ring
MP:
same jacket but black
green nails
pearls yes absolutely and dicklace on full display
peace ring
shoe model he wears at his shows
hair more his regular style
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It very well could be they just didn't have much time for the MP look but basically I'm seeing details added that are much more him, much more comfortable, more harry for MP in many ways.
BUT NOW THE IMPORTANT ONE THE RED CARPET LOOKS
DWD (left) and MP (right):
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Again The Same Jacket But One Is Blue And One Is Green.
DWD:
again blue nails
again bird ring
blue suit
it's all blue just like the press conference outfit
accessories: sunglasses, and I guess a shirt with pointy ends we count as an accessory bc the green goblin didnt need one.
the details make the suit look more stiff if that's the word
My Policeman
again green nails
again peace ring
same! jacket! green suit
no shirt. he naked. he bare. he babey. he all out. he-
BIGASS FKIN GREEN ASS LILY FLOWER BLAAP GREEN FUCKING-
accessories: purse, GREEN. CARNATION. APPRECAITION BIGASS FLOWER I THINK YOU SHOULD WEAR BIG GREEN FLOWERS
and here the accessoires, everything about it, brings down the squareness of the jacket? again. words idk fashion. But it's having opposite effects is the point. one makes you relaxed the other not so much
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So I mean find symbolism in this the way you want to, I'm seeing a look for DWD that looks like a policeman. It looks to me like he's found a way (for himself) to put on display how he's both. DWD = work, like Tom is the policeman, and THEN there's MP, something he's passionate about, and we see the second, the green outfit, as displayed pretty much embodying a green carnation (symbolizing queerness, esp mlm), paralleling Tom who loves a man. Basically, the green carnation look is appropriate and related to the MP premiere, to his character in the movie, but by taking the look of a policeman out of that situation, and into the DWD premiere, he's added that layer of him. And not just that, also incorporating those classic (peace ring, blue+green) details we we've grown to understand symbolise his relationship with some lad dude yk.
IN SHORT: LOVE THIS GENIUS:
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girlzwfun · 3 months
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⠀⸺ ❝ LONG ROAD ❞
warnings – car accident, death, broken bones, blood mentioned; kinda suggestive but nothing happened. these are really the only things idk anything about broken bones & i’ve never been in a car accident so sorry. i did research as much as i could.
setting – april 03, 2016
word count – 1.1k
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chaerin had exited the building as discreetly as possible. having spent the night at her boyfriend’s, she called iseul, her manager, to pick her up and to park not so close to the building. cheri had begun to regret this as she made the trek.
iseul had poked fun at cheri for spending a whole day with her boyfriend this early in their relationship. she was almost in shock that her friend was spending this much time with a guy.
“iseul, i didn’t know i was going to stay this long.” she hissed into her phone and adjusted her cap. cheri heard the cackle from outside the car. “seriously, you suck.” iseul opened the door and helped cheri inside.
““i remember you specifically said you’d never spend the night with someone you just started dating.” she rolled her eyes at her manager and peered out the window, smiling slightly.
“whatever. i just want to get home. i’m tired,” she closed her eyes for a moment, hearing the snickering from the woman beside her. “i cannot stand you, cho iseul.”
“rest, chaerin. i won’t bother you,” iseul patted her leg and went back to her phone. “for now.” chuckling to herself, cheri allowed herself to doze off for exactly 10 minutes before she felt the car swerve and the squeal of tires on asphalt. before she could open her eyes fully, she saw blood trickling from her head.
“is-iseul,” the girl cried. “iseul! ise-“ cheri’s red hand reached for the other woman’s. she noticed that she was hunched forward.
“hello!” she called. “someone help!” she tried to remove her seatbelt but could barely feel her arm or see the buckle. looking to her right, she saw a concrete barrier meaning the window had broken on her. to her left, she saw a navy SUV smoking from the hood. somehow, she made out the face of the driver.
“help me, please,” she begged to no one. it felt like ages before anyone showed up. iseul and the driver were removed from the car and, by the time they’d gotten to her, cheri felt the adrenaline running but wasn’t aware of anything happening around her. she answered their questions as best as she could, telling them her name, age, and god knows what else she told them.
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she remembers closing her eyes in the ambulance for a second, which was apparently hours because she woke up in a hospital room severely parched.
making out the silhouette that sat beside her, she asked, “can i have some water?”
the blue-haired individual perked up and quickly poured water into a cup for her.
“here, careful.” he almost whispered as he held the cup to her mouth. “do you need anything? i- your mom’s here.”
“namjoon,” she finally recognized him. “i want to go home.” he frowned and sat the cup down.
“you can’t. not yet,” he stood and went into the hallway. “are you in any pain? the doctor, she said you’d probably be in pain when you woke up.” cheri shook her head. she didn’t feel anything at all.
“where are the other guys?” she asked. “and iseul and our driver? are they okay?” namjoon stared down at the floor.
“they’ll be here later. they didn’t want to overwhelm you.” he made his way to the door. “i think someone wants to talk to you.” the man quickly exited the room leaving chaerin in an anxious state. shortly after, another person entered.
“thank god,” her mother’s familiar voice flooded the room. “thank god.” her strong arms embraced cheri for several moments.
“mom, tell me what happened.” cheri spoke. “i know we were hit. after that?”
haesook let out a breath. “you have a fractured arm, broken knee, bruises, cuts, but you’re here.” cheri stared at the wall in front her. she was afraid to ask anymore after namjoon’s refusal to answer, but she had to know.
“iseul? our driver?” the look on her mother’s face said enough. cheri had known that the car had been hit on the left, iseul and the driver taking the majority of the impact. she remembered her manager being hunched over and unresponsive and the driver’s head resting against the air bag.
“i’m sorry, honey.” cheri turned her head and closed her eyes as she began to cry. “she was unresponsive when she was brought in and didn’t make it. he was dead on arrival.”
haesook held her daughter as she cried.
“it was him,” she choked. “i know it was. i know his car and i know his face.” haesook shushed chaerin to calm her. she had already known who it was. he had tried to send her flowers, tried to see her. she immediately had him removed from the vicinity. he had failed to cover the wounds on his face and was far too knowledgeable about the accident. it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to hurt her daughter.
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the girl awoke the next day in more pain than she could fathom and a new person sitting beside her. her knee throbbed and her arm burned slightly. groaning, she reached out, knowing that whoever was there would hold her hand.
“hi, my blossom.” he placed a kiss to the back of her hand. “do you need anything?” baekhyun’s soft voice lingered.
“‘m hungry,” she replied. “kiss?” the older man leaned forward and kissed her gently. his lips hovered and he noticed her smile.
“i should’ve just stayed another night,” she joked. “now you get to take care of me. i’m no fun to take care of.” her non injured arm came up to his face, her hand caressing his cheek.
“i’ll be right back. i’ll get you something to eat.” he said opening the door. “i think someone wanted to speak with you.”
chaerin spent the next half hour talking to a police officer. they had arrested the man cheri had already known as bae youngjae and had charged him. they had determined he was traveling at 144 km/h with the intent to harm. he had followed them from the dorm. fortunately, cheri would never have to see him again.
when they were finished, her mother and doctor came to discuss treatment for her injuries. her knee was displaced and she was going to have surgery, but her arm would heal on its own and in a sling. she had a concussion, bruising on her ribs, and lacerations from her seatbelt. cheri was not going to be able to perform with the group and would have to sit out for many of the upcoming promotions. she had a long road to recovery.
“this is going to be so shitty,” she complained. jungkook laughed from behind her, pushing her wheelchair out to the car.
“we’ll take care of you. don’t worry.” jimin promised. hoseok took her bag and seokjin held onto her hand. she managed to hoist herself out of the seat and hobbled to the car door. once inside, she leaned her head on the nearest shoulder and sighed.
“can i finally go home?”
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nadianova · 5 months
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it feels wild going from making games with just two chars to having a huge cast of characters to the point where i have so many named people im not even going to draw sprites for all of them lmao
im thinking of having just like silhouettes for some chars if keeping them off screen seems too empty
my story is progressing well too, ive passed hopeless junction word count and due to the nature of how many scenes i have this means my game will probs be longer even if the word count remained equal. word count is a pretty abstract way to measure visual novel length since it doesnt translate directly like in a regular novel
2023 release isnt going to happen cause ive been busy with uhhh honestly idk what ive been doing past couple weeks or not. fucking around in second life i guess rofl
also i was reading 100gf and ran into liliana and francesca (real canon true)
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jellydishes · 18 days
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tagged by @broodsys, tagging @skeletonsgeorg and @neonhoneycomb and @diroxy
1. How many works do you have on AO3 uhhhhhhh hang on i gotta combine three different accounts lol. ANSWER: 209
2. What's your total AO3 word count? 383,402 + 194,512 + 6,876 = 584,790
3. What fandoms do you write for? Dragon age 2 and Transformers, mostly, but i randomly branch out on occasion
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? uhhh on my main account?
misfiled, a magnus archives fic, with 314 kudos
mama said there'd be days like this, a bojack horseman story with 246
the trick is not to look down, an avatar: the last airbender fic, with 227
two truths, a disco elysium nsfw story with 184
only our enemies leave roses, an umbrella academy fic, with 177
(bonus round, i won't be linking these bc it's my forbidden account, HOWEVER: 173, 124, 118, 114, and 111 kudos for the top five)
5. Do you respond to comments? i do! often very very late because of my social anxiety, but yes
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? uhhhhhhhhh OH! that would be one breath, two
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? offhand??? maybe bone meal
8. Do you get hate on fics? fairly regularly for my forbidden account, yes, i just got a nasty comment last week
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? every couple of months, yes. typically m/f or f/f in general, [REDACTED] for my forbidden account
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? very occasionally. i did a final fantasy seven/fire emblem or a while back, which fulfills both criteria
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? idk? probably, but i don't worry about it very much
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? not to my knowledge
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? yup! i worked together on a couple dragon age fic before, for instance, as well as on my second forbidden account lol, this one specifically for transformers
14. What's your all time favorite ship? uhhhhhhhh idk probably bethany hawke/literally anybody
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? the sequel fic for believe it's easier for you
16. What are your writing strengths? dialogue and characterization
17. What are your writing weaknesses? action scenes and plot
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i mean if i knew another language sure
19. First fandom you wrote for? uhhhh either yuyu hakusho or h*rry p*tter
20. Favorite fic you've written? idkkkk uhhh potentially silhouette, which is a hard fic to pitch to people but it's the fic that first saw me experiment with writing an nd protagonist back in the day, so i have a lot of affection for it
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uglypastels · 1 year
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idk if anyone’s requested this one already but for your Spotify Wrapped thing!!
Eddie Munson + #88 (Edge of Seventeen)!! 👀
i sure am taking my damn time with these oh lord. but i feel like I'm slowly coming back so please be patient everyone &lt;;3
with this, i kind of went off with the vibe the song gave me. I mean, that's usually what I go off, but like, specifically, the energy I felt of the story the song tried to portray-- anyway, no one cares. I hope the fic is good
warnings: mentions of not-so-happy home life. angsty but more comfort in the end.
masterlist. || join the Stranger Things taglist
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The first time you saw Eddie Munson was in the summer before Junior year. It was an unforgettable summer for many reasons. One of many being how sweltering the days were and how slowly they seemed to pass. When you were younger, you wouldn’t have wished for it to be any other way. Weeks of the sun going up and down slowly. School couldn’t be further away. 
But now, you were stuck outside for hours, helping your mom repair the trailer. The sun was burning at your shoulders, sweat dripping down your back. You were covered in paint, and everything smelled like the burning rubber of the broken grass mower you had tossed aside after it failed you once again. 
That is how he found you— if he had even noticed you, that is. 
You heard him before you saw him, though. The car drove slowly across the gravelled road, sputtering and roaring until it stopped at the trailer next to yours. Mr Munson opened his door moments later, greeting the newcomer. The boy that stepped out of the car was a complete stranger. Wearing a black tank top and ripped jeans, his hair was much shorter than these days but already messy and a cause for concern in any “proper” suburb. The two greeted each other, somewhat somberly, you noticed. 
Now, it wasn’t your intention to stare, but for once, something new was happening around the trailer park, so your interest was immediately spiked. You watched the boy pull out the duffel bag from the car and head inside after Mr Munson. He left the door open. 
You didn’t see him for the rest of the week but knew he was there by the loud music he played inside the trailer anytime Mr Munson left for work. The guitar solos would blast through the thin walls at any hour of the day or night. At first, you thought it was annoying, as he played it in the middle of the night, and you tried to sleep, but eventually, you got used to it. Over time, it became a comfort. Especially when the noise inside your own home got too much. It was nice to focus on something else from time to time. 
Of course, it was not appreciated by all neighbours. The times someone came out in their bathrobe and slippers to bang on the Munson door were more than you could count. And each time, he would poke his head out of the window, no point in going to the door, endure the annoyed yelling, just to reply with a smirk that the shouting was more of a nuisance than he was.
‘People are trying to sleep, ma’am,’ he’d smirk, ‘please, try not to be so loud.’ And he would sneak his head back inside, close the window, and lower the volume—just a little. You could still hear it. 
Another few days went by before you learned his name. Inside your trailer was getting a bit too much for you, so you sneaked out to get some fresh air. Most of the lights around you were out. The sun had gone down hours ago, so it must have been late. You sat on the steps in front of your door, looking up at the stairs, catching a few deep breaths when you heard something rustling in the grass. Curious and a bit scared, you turned in the direction of the sound. Someone was walking around, their silhouette illuminated by the moonlight; you could just about make out the action they were performing. It was undeniable– with a thin strip at his lips, and the smoking rising around him as he walked… 
However, he was making his way back home now and saw you sitting down. 
‘Hey,’ his voice was deep but soft, raspy from the smoke he had inhaled. 
‘Hi.’ You tried to smile, and make your first impression somewhat decent. Hopefully, the dim light coming from inside your trailer didn’t expose your tear-stained cheeks. It didn’t matter, though, did it? You could hear every note that he played; he must have heard every word that was being screamed around by your parents. 
‘Would you like to come inside?’ He pointed back at his own trailer. ‘I was about to eat something, so–’
‘I would like that, yeah.’ You got up, brushing the dust off. As you stepped inside and he turned the lights on, you still had not introduced yourselves. You were greeted with a cosy-looking living area, the top of the walls covered in mugs and hats, and plenty of blankets thrown about the couch. The kitchen was dirty, but in a just-used way, with a heap of plates filling the sink. 
‘My uncle made shepherd’s pie yesterday so I was just going to warm that up, is that alright for you?’
‘Yeah, sounds great.’ So he was Mr Munson’s nephew, one mystery solved. 
While he heated up the food in the microwave, you looked around a bit more. The trailer felt so warm. Not because of the summer heat still leaving its mark all around the air, but– well, you couldn’t describe it exactly. It was something about how comfortable you felt around just standing there, looking around at all the trinkets. 
‘Eddie,’ he handed you your plate, confusing you.
‘Sorry, what?’
‘My name… it’s Eddie.’ He smiled awkwardly, but you smiled right back and introduced yourself. That was another mystery solved. 
The two of you sat down on the couch as you ate your late-night meal. No words were exchanged until you were both done eating. You contemplated just saying thank you and heading back, but something also pulled you back in. this was your chance to get to know Eddie a bit. 
‘So…’ you tried to quickly think of something to say that sounded casual enough but would also get some of your million questions answered, ‘are you staying here for the summer?’ Was that maybe too much? 
‘No, actually, I just moved in here, so will probably stay for a few years. Probably until I can afford a place of my own.’ Eddie picked up his and your plate to bring it back to the kitchen, right on top of all the other dirty dishes. 
‘Ah, that’s really nice of your uncle, to let you stay here. How are you finding it? I mean, new home and stuff.’ You had no idea where you were taking your sentences anymore. 
‘I mean, Hawkins is nothing new, I lived on the other side of town, and when I was younger I stayed with my uncle for a bit as well… it’s nice to have my own room, though.’ You noticed the open door in the back of the trailer, walls already covered in pictures and band posters. He was clearly quick at making himself feel at home. ‘What about you?’ He asked back. 
‘What about me?’ 
‘How’s the trailer life treating you?’ As your next-door neighbour, he probably knew exactly how it was treating you, the question was a mere formality, and you weren’t sure what to think of it. 
‘It’s fine. The limited hot water is a bitch, though.’ You laughed, and Eddie, thankfully, did too. He sat back down on the couch. 
‘I’m not gonna say that it’s all going to be fine, because I for sure as hell know that it feels like that couldn’t be further from the truth, but if you ever need anything– just to get away or something– my window is always open.’ 
‘Well, you should close it, you’ll attract all the moths.’ Thank god, he laughed at that too. ‘But thanks, Eddie, I appreciate it.’ You added a sincere thanks afterwards. 
‘It’s nothing.’ He shrugged. 
You spent the rest of the night on that couch, just talking and laughing. You only realised what time it was when the sun started to shine through the window and the door of the trailer opened– mid Eddie’s sentence. The two of you looked at Mr Munson walking inside, his eyes opening wide, more so in confusion, at the sight of you. 
‘Good morning,’ he said, taking his hat off and putting it on the shelf among the many others.
‘Good morning, Mr Munson.’ You said, and a yawn immediately followed it up. It seemed the door did not only let in Eddie’s uncle but also the sleep you had been fighting all night. ‘I should probably go. See you around, Eddie.’ 
‘See you.’ Eddie waved, sinking back into the couch. As you were walking away, you could hear the uncle scold his nephew for leaving the dishes. How many times did he have to tell him to clean those damn plates again? Eddie apologised, half asleep already, as you opened your own door. 
The rest of the summer was far from lonely, as you spent almost every day with your new neighbour. Mostly in the evenings, when his uncle was off to work, you could use his room as an escape pod. You finally got to listen to the music without the barrier of your walls. Turned out, most of it was Eddie’s own doing. He played you his favourite song, butchering the lyrics from time to time on purpose to get you to laugh again. 
He showed you his favourite movies, lent you his favourite books, and eventually, he pulled out a large book from underneath his bed. With it, he loured you into the world of Dungeons and Dragons, and there was no more way out. You were hooked from the get-go. 
In the end, that summer certainly had its ups and downs, but years down the line, you would always look back on it fondly. It was the year you met one of the most important people in your life—a person who would change your life forever. You just hoped you had a bit of that effect on him as well.
If only Eddie had the nerve to admit just how much impact you had on him. Just how you managed to save him out of his darkest pit. 
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thank you for reading! please support your (not so) local writers with comments and reblogs <3 it means the world. also, I love to hear what you thought of the fic. asks are always welcome
consider leaving behind an anonymous review :p
(non angst) taglist: thank you all for your support <3
@spiderrrling @theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @prettytoxix @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @meaganjm @yourmommilf @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbakery @sleeping-willlow @liltimmyst @escape-in-time-x @miscelaa @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonbby @wh0re4munson @eddiesdingus @zoeyquinn94 @mydearzero @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @stitchity @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @witchyrivers @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington
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mintaikk · 5 months
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Lowkey
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Introducing Lowkey! Lowkey is an Arachnidian, a spider-like species that works with dark magic using webs.
I'm still making his lore, but he grew up as an orphan in a small spider village doing street performances for money. At some point, when he was 11, he joined a traveling group called the Corrupted Orchestra, making music around Syibres (realm he is from), to bring what little joy he could with this group. During this time, he adopted the God The Silhouette as his patron God and became very religious, wearing a mask with the rest of the Orchestra as a way to show their faith. It's something that brings him comfort, and he wears it a lot when he feels uneasy. He also became very close to an arachnidian/succubus hyrbid in the orchestra named Mary (short for Marionette), with him counting her as his best friend. (More stuff under cut)
After a couple of years of traveling with them, he met a king named Soulseeker, the leader of a group who studied the magic of souls and the power to become immortal. Lowkey was a very good magic user, and Soulseeker wanted his talents, but he refused, saying that he'd rather stay with his orchestra. But, after that, members of the Orchestra would mysteriously die, with Marionette disappearing, but a body never being found. By the time the last member died, Lowkey was devastated. By that time, Soulseeker came back, asking if he wanted go join him, and Lowkey agreed, thinking he had nothing to lose. He now takes out small tasks for Soulseeker, becoming like his little errand boy, with the mindset of "if I do this, he'll set me free." And he'll do Amy task that Soulseeker gives him. But, he still performs for others, being something that can genuinely bring him joy.
If you read this far, thank you so much! It means a lot to me that you hopefully found him interesting enough. If you have any questions, please ask me! I'd love to awnser them.
(Also I'm bored, so here's some stuff about him that I couldn't fit in this)
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-Idk his exact age, but it's somewhere between his late 20s and early 30s, and he joined Soulseeker in his early 20s
-Lowkey is a full genderblind pansexual
-He's multilingual, speaking both English, Elvish, Arachnidian (obviously his first language), and Flurlfian
-If it wasn't obvious before, he is 100% a theater kid, and his favorite king of shows are musicals and puppet shows since he's good at both
-His favorite instrument is the violin
-His fangs are slightly venomous and leave a weird tingly and numbing sensation wherever the target was bitten. It wares off in about 24 hours
-He does have very small white pupils, but they only appear when he has strong emotions
-He does very well with kids, and he was the temporary caretaker of the youngest member of the Corrupted Orchestra, a feliflie/arachnidian hybrid named Button
-Most members of the Corrupted Orchestra wear masks thst fully cover their face, but Lowkey designed his mask to only cover half of his face since many of his performances relied on his facial expressions, and many members of the Orchestra encouraged him to because they thought his eyes were pretty (as of making this, he was the only one there with red eyes, and the color red is seen as a symbol of good luck for Arachnidians)
-Out of the six eyes he has, he can only really see well with his top and middle eyes, and the bottom eyes just help him see better in fog
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hall0wedwyrm · 3 months
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Okay, so this was just supposed to be part of a different AU (which i still might include something like this in there??? but idk) and then it was supposed to be just a one off... but guys i think this could literally be an au. I think it would be called the Reunion AU? not sure but yeah
AU Summary (so far): Shadow reunites with some faces that cause an unpleasant surprise. As people start to learn about the return, Shadow assures them that they have this undercontrol, but will they do the right thing?
Consider this... Chapter 1?? I suppose?? Enjoy!!
(also side note Shadow is he/they here just incase theres any confusion lol)
Word Count: 1,481
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There was never really a reason to worry about Shadow. They were naturally unpredictable, but they had their morals in check and that's really what mattered. Rouge knew it wasn’t a huge issue... but she was growing more worried. 
Lately, Shadow had been acting out of character. They seemed generally more anxious, and alert of everything happening around them. They would jump out of their skin at the slightest abrupt movement, even scaring Rouge at some points. 
Rouge was waiting for him to show up and was fully prepared to scold him for disappearing for seemingly no reason. It had been at least since the early hours, and it was now going into the afternoon. The only reason Rouge knew this was through Sonic telling her. When he woke up that morning, Shadow was nowhere to be found, and he assumed that they were with her… and Rouge thought that they were with him. This prompted immediate fear and panic, worrying if something had happened to them. Rouge’s thoughts went straight to G.U.N finding a reason to put them away again, and Sonic thought of them potentially being part of Eggman’s newest plan. They both promised to stay in contact with each other and dashed their separate ways. 
Rouge hoped he would have appeared by now, for many reasons. The main one being her genuine concern, but also that there was an imminent meeting with the Commander, who she guaranteed had picked up on his weird behaviour and probably wouldn’t hesitate to confront him. And if he did... she wouldn't know what to even say to defend them.
She sat in her quiet office space at the G.U.N headquarters. Impatiently waiting for anything about Shadow to appear in front of her. She hoped he would just appear in her office, apologising for vanishing and she could cancel this dumb meeting and go comfort them in any way she could. Even if it was just a glass of water and making sure he was safely at her apartment. 
As she stood up to leave for the meeting, her phone unexpectedly buzzed in her pocket. She swiftly pulled it out and held it firmly. 
It was Shadow. 
‘Meet outside. In the alley. Be quick.’ 
Short, sweet and to the point, but she didn’t care at all. Her next move was to begin swiftly leaving the building and pull up Sonic’s messages. She had to alert him; it was the least she could do right now. 
‘Shadow’s just messaged me. I’m going to figure out what’s going on with them. Update soon, hon x’ 
Rouge rushed down the building, sped through the reception and darted into the alleyway. She stood for a moment, before seeing a vague silhouette at the end. Their quills gave them away, and the slight bit of light glimmered on their inhibitor rings. 
“Oh my stars,” Rouge sighed, approaching them slowly, “Where the hell have you been!? We were so worried about you…” 
She tried hard to not raise her voice, she didn’t want to sound mad at them at all, but she was slightly frustrated at the no contact situation. She saw Shadow open their mouth to speak, before hesitating a little bit. 
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare any of you.” He kept his voice low, nearly a whisper, “But it was urgent.” 
“What?” She raised her eyebrow, “What was so urgent that didn’t give you time to leave a note? or a message?” 
Shadow looked away, closing their eyes. They clenched their fists tightly and squeezed their eyes shut. 
“I…” He tried to start, but his voice got caught in his throat, “I can’t.”  
There was a deafening silence. The air thickened quickly as the tension swelled with it. 
“What…. what do you mean?” She was astounded, and that was easily conveyed by the way she barely had to try and speak. 
“Because of-” Shadow paused and opened their eyes wide. 
Rouge, realising she potentially caught him, jumped in quickly, “because of what? What’s so bad that you can’t tell me? if you’re worried, I’m going to say anything to anyone, you know I would never.” 
He didn’t even turn to look at her,  
In a swift and unconscious move, she swiftly gripped Shadow’s arm. He turned around in response, looking at her with large eyes. It’s like even he couldn’t believe what she just did. She pulled him so that he would look at her. 
“Tell me. Please.” She begged, staring into their eyes. 
A flash of fear was on their face for a moment, and they tried to say something again, before the pit in Rouge’s stomach forced her to speak first 
“What...” She took a breath, “What did you do?”  
Shadow looked stunned. He fumbled to grab her shoulders, holding her closer to him. He was right in her face. 
“I didn’t do anything. I swear to you, Rouge.” He took a deep breath, “If I do tell you... please just... keep it to yourself for a while. I don’t know what to do about it.” 
Rouge blinked in bewilderment. She was kind of afraid to even ask what he meant by that, but she was in this deep she had to know.  
“About...” She paused, feeling the pit in her stomach deepen, “About what...?”  
The words out of Shadow’s mouth were the last things she wanted to ever hear him say. 
Releasing their grip on her, they kept their voice to a bit louder than a whisper, paranoid about even muttering it themself. 
“Black Doom... he’s alive.”  
“Pardon!?” She couldn’t help but yell out at him. 
“Keep your voice down.” They hissed through their teeth, looking behind her to see if anyone had heard them. He took a harsh breath through his nose, before speaking. 
“He’s been speaking to me. Trying to get me to go and see him. He was watching me this whole time, waiting for his moment to strike.” He tried to look at her, but he could barely make eye contact before looking away, “I gave in today, and went to go and hunt for him. He somehow knew I was coming for him and told me exactly where to go. He told me that he had been on this planet since I had destroyed the original Black Comet, and that he was silently brewing his revenge.”  
Rouge stared at him, mouth agape, for at least a minute. She was trying to process that this was even real. That this was all happening again.  
“We... we have to do something.” She stammered, “We can’t let him do what he did last time.” 
“Stop.” Shadow said harshly, “He’s not doing anything right now.” 
Rouge scoffed, “And you believe that? Really?”  
Shadow nodded a little bit, turning his head to look back up at her. “He’s essentially powerless here. He doesn’t have the power of the Black Arms army behind him.”  
“Are you actually being serious right now?” She snapped, “After everything he put you through- After everything he did to you? You’re... giving him a second chance?”  
He didn’t respond. He didn’t even move.  
“Seriously? Are you hearing yourself right now?! You swore that if any Black Arms ever even came close to this planet's atmosphere, you’d destroy them immediately. Why is this any different?” 
“...Eclipse was there.” 
“You’re kidding me.” Rouge squeezed the arch of her nose. She couldn’t believe a word she was hearing. 
“Please. Hear me out,” Shadow pleaded, and Rouge reluctantly looked at him. 
“They were genuinely happy to see me. The way they talked to me about what they and Black Doom had been up to in the time since I saw them last... they were delighted. Eclipse said Black Doom had found them shortly after their ship crashed, and they had been planning together ever since. Eclipse was so excited to show me what they had been working on.” 
Rouge’s only response was to sigh. Heavily. 
“I didn’t intend to stay long, I swear. I just wanted to hear what they had to say... to see what they were doing.”  
“I just... can’t believe all of this is happening again.” Rouge folded her arms tightly, “Are you really sure you have this all under control...?” 
“Yes.” Shadow said confidently, “I’m going to follow along with Black Doom, try and keep them both out of trouble for a while until I can figure out what to do.”  
Rouge had a bad feeling about... all of this. If Shadow began to trust them, who knows what would happen? 
“Fine. I trust your judgement.” Rouge reluctantly said, “But if you go running off again without telling me, I will hunt you down, got it?” 
Shadow let out a small chuckle, “I’ll make sure, I swear.” 
Rouge finally felt some kind of relief. While she didn’t completely see how this would be a good situation, but if Shadow had it under control... 
She didn’t have any other reason not to trust them. 
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afyerarchive · 2 years
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Enderman x Reader Minecraft Date
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● ————————— MINECRAFT
→ ABOUT / Just a casual day in your singleplayer Minecraft world; what's that in the distance? An Enderman? Aren't those things decently rare? Well, instead of getting a typical Ender Pearl, why don't you have a bit of fun with it instead -
→ DEMOGRAPHIC / gn ! reader
→ CW / minecraft date (idk if that counts as "fluff" or not) + mentions of getting hurt?
→ EXTRA / Writing this because I am absolutely out of ideas. Please give me something to do preferably genshin aaf afaffagbajkbsjkl (also im not proofreading this because it's 6 AM and I just wanna sleep)
——————————————————————————————————
Iron sword in hand, you stroll over the vast mountains of the world, passing llamas and goats; you're determined to find your home which you hadn't visited in days due to a recent mining venture. Well, at least the profits were fruitful. A few stacks of coal, a stack of iron, and precisely ten diamonds, along with a load of bread you found whilst passing a village on your journey back.
Upon seeing the silhouette of your beautiful Cottagecore-inspired house in the distance, you grin, brimming with excitement to finally be back home. Dangerously skipping down the final slope before reaching your residence, you fall, losing grip of sword, as you end up tumbling down the face of the mountain, landing in a pond at the bottom, blacking out.
LATER
A few hours pass. You slowly drift open your eyes, seeing a jet-black figure with entrancing purple eye features towering over your body. Clueless, you reach your hand out, trying to get a feel of it, before it backs away slowly, still keeping you in its view.
Jolting up to get a better look, you notice just how tall this thing actually was. Surely it was three blocks tall, maybe even more. If only you had such attractive features like that; oh, one can only dream.
Blushing, the figure holds out its hand. Hesitating, you slowly reach your out too, meeting it, and grabbing on tight, as it pulls you all the way up off of the ground. Wait, how had you gotten out of the pond in the first place? Still curious, you interrogate the creature.
Ah, so it's an Enderman. Aren't those things afraid of water? Fret not, this Enderman seemed to have already taken a special interest in you, thus why it helped you this whole time.
"So, what are you looking for?" You ask, trying not to look the Enderman in the eyes. "If there's a certain... block, or flower that you desire, I'd be more than happy to help you find it."
The Enderman shook its head shily, trying to gaze at you, but quickly turning away to face your home each time. To be honest, this situation you found yourself in was pretty awkward, however, let's not make it weird. Continuing this discussion, you think well, what? before getting the hint. Wait- this may be just a game, but can the Endermen have attraction to the players.
I mean, seriously, who the hell would code a feature like that?
"Do you want to try going on a date, perchance?" Glancing at the creature once more, still avoiding the eyes, you watch as it slowly nods in compliance. "Well, why didn't you say so from the start? I actually have quite the thing for people built like you."
Long story short, you were asked to set up two Dark Oak stairs for chairs, and a fence with a trapdoor on it in the middle, simulating that of a date you'd find in real life.
Oddly, it looked peaceful, and fit quite nicely under the canopy created by the balcony of your cottage. After scattering an assortment of flowers, this newfound creature sat down on the "chair" opposite of you, and made sure not to be as nervous this time.
With that, you enjoyed a cooked chicken together and had quite the talk about the current economic situation in the End Dimension.
A night well spent. You had all of your items back, and polished your sword back up to its peak performance, before turning back to the Enderman, who was standing there ominously.
"One more thing," it muttered. "Let me just look at you... one time." This thing's English was better than you imagined.
"I guess," you spoke nervously. Looking up to see its flat black head, and just edging the rim of those pure purple eyes, butterflies fluttered throughout your stomach. You'd never looked anyone in the eyes this romantically, let alone a creature of the night in Minecarft.
Sighing, you finally took a glimpse at them. What was not expected, however, was to see the Enderman's eyes widen, as if with fear and anguish, shaking ever so slightly, before running towards you.
Instantly, you regained your state of mind, trying to run away. But alas, your ex-lover-now-nightmare chased you back to the pond where you met, as you jumped in the water to avoid it.
Looking back, the Enderman was nowhere to be seen. Had you outrun it? Were you safe... for now?
Thoughts racing around your head, you sigh once more, trying to stay calm after the horrific sequence of events that just unfolded. Trying to think about it only hurt though, and you felt as if you were still being watched.
And, by some stroke of unfortunate luck, you felt something tight grab your body from behind, ripping you out of the water to an untimely fate.
God, I hated writing this.
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hunter-sylvester · 1 year
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Rating Hunter Sylvester's Outfits
Cause I'm gay, let's go Putting the outfits in the order of when they appear in the film, rather than a ranked order. Since many get the same rating. Please take this with the lighthearted intent it was written in.
With gifs~
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1. Sleeveless Madhouse. It’s very good. I like it a lot. We take note of the nail polish, we enjoy it while we can, it will disappear shortly. 8/10
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2. The Flannel Trooper Technically this is the second outfit we see Hunter in. It belongs more to a later scene but that’s just this film’s odd relationship with continuity and time. It’s also his worst fucking outfit. I don’t know if he just does not suit plaid. I certainly think the jeans don’t quite work. Whatever it is, it’s not great. Love the Iron Maiden shirt, tho. 4/10
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3. The Hidden Shock Shirt ft. The Jacket™ Solid outfit, love that edgy shit for Hunter. Want that shirt. Debut of the denim jacket. Sadly includes the grey jeans that I do not fuck with. 8/10.
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4. Misfits At A Party We love an all black vibe. Striking Misfits skull, all around a great look. 9/10.
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5. Judas Brat Another all black number. With or without the black denim jacket, it's a major vibe. I like the all-black converse. Very good. 9/10.
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6. The Last Supper for Hunter's full head of hair. Second to worst outfit in my opinion. It's basically a copy of the third outfit but without any of the flavor. 5/10.
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7. Slayer Shirt For The Hurt Calling this a comfort outfit. I like it a lot. Shirt looks kinda worn and soft and it’s a good level of oversized. Those fucking grey jeans again tho. But black converse, so~ 8/10.
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8. No Sleeves No Chill Debut of the newly altered battle jacket as well as the earring. We also get the T-Shirt referencing the film's tagline, very good. The scribbled on 'tattoos' are so stupid and I love them. 9/10
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9. The Violent Outfit Of Reason Back to all black! And it looks comfy. I love it. I actually really like the, what looks like, black cargo pants??? This outfit was me at 13. Seriously, it looks like it was plucked straight from my teenage closet. I'm gonna be biased. (Tbf I would 100% wear this now, as is the case for most of his outfits.) 9/10
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10. Completely Gay The sleeveless shirts are a gift that keeps on giving. (also the faded shitty little scribbled on 'tattoos') 8/10
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11. The Best Outfit This is it. This is the best one. Hands down, his best outfit. One may count the Rhoads as a part of the outfit idgaf, it’s his best outfits regardless. The silhouette, the battle jacket, the symbolism. Chef’s kiss. 10/10
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12. Gym Shorts eheheheheheheheh look at him 7/10
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13. Ready For Battle We’re considering the corpse paint as part of the outfit. It’s so very extra in the best way possible. The fact that they fit 2 continuity errors into 1 outfit and have the blue light randomly turn off, it's great. Bonus points for Demonias~ (That collar looks so uncomfortably snug tho but I wear them really fuckin' loose when I do so maybe this is normal?????) 9/10
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14. Rehab Boy #1 I actually really like his rehab outfits???? Idk I think they're cute. I mean I don't fully get WHY Hunter has to wear sweats when everyone else in rehab seems to just be in their own clothes????? I'm guessing Alan "Father Of The Year" Sylvester, dropped him off without any change of clothes, so these were probably provided by the rehab center. 7.5/10
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15. Rehab boy #2 See entry 14, but beige. 7.5/10
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16. Battle Of The Bands I like it but I am SEVERELY disappointed by the LACK of eyeliner. I just think it could be more extra. Like mf really pulled out a custom Jackson but couldn't whack on some eyeliner or smth. We know Hunter can do extra, so give me extra. Still like it tho. 8/10
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17. Reformed Asshole At first I really didn’t like how they put Hunter in a very light outfit now that he’s ‘nice’ like some cliche visual shorthand. But I’ve grown to love the outfit over time. It looks comfy. Cute hurt boy vibes imo. 9/10
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