#(little drawing of Rob I did on the desk

[yurki-posts]

oh my. . .

#1000 likes #tumblr milestone #damn these things always happen when i'm on school?? #wow...to think that people liked my stuff..so many people. I'm flattered lol #not much to say really #but ty all :D #(little drawing of Rob I did on the desk #I haven't drawn him in like forever) #tawog rob

[reysdriver]

Can I ask a Steve Harrington x shy!reader where she has a locket that represents him (like the initial SH) and she always wears it but under her shirt so that no one can see? One day, Steve comes home to find her asleep, he smiles and leans to kiss her but then finds out her little secret. Just fluff:)

steve finds a sweet surprise when sneaking into your bedroom to see you — steve x gn!reader fluff

warnings: none:)

words: 1.1k

a/n: this was supposed to be a little tiny blurb idk what happened lmao but I hope you like it!

Steve was supposed to be there at 11 o’clock sharp. 

He had promised you that as soon as the arcade closed and all the boys were dropped off at home, he’d be sneaking up into your room without a sound. ‘Like a ninja’ were his exact words; and maybe it was your fault for assuming ninjas were punctual. 

You had given him a little grace period, maybe twenty minutes where he could come and you wouldn’t be upset with him. An hour after that ended, you decided you weren’t even going to wait anymore. If Steve was willing to wait that long to see you, he could wait even longer. 

You decided to change into a pair of pyjamas instead of staying in your normal clothes all night and then get ready for bed. After turning out your lights and closing your curtains, you tucked yourself in and quickly fell asleep. 

Unluckily, Steve had arrived just a few minutes after you dozed off. He cursed himself quietly when he saw your curtains drawn—already knowing you’d be pissed at him for being late—then tumbled over your windowsill since he was using one hand to palm away the hanging fabric. As he was climbing, he noticed you were asleep and was shocked that you stayed in your state despite the thud he made when he hit the ground. He was thankful you didn’t wake, though; he didn’t want your morning grumpiness on top of your anger at him for not showing up on time. 

When he walked towards your bed, a smile graced his face at the closer sight of your peaceful figure. He wondered what you were dreaming about, and of course he hoped it was him. 

Steve crouched down to plant a kiss on your forehead before pausing and contemplating what he should do. He pondered staying, but he didn’t want to be the kind of creep who sneaks into girls’ beds when they’re sleeping—even if you were dating. Then he thought about sleeping on the floor, but he didn’t want to deal with back pain when he’s already on his feet all day. So, he decided that he’d write a nice note, promise to take you out for a make-up date tomorrow night, then leave the same way he came. 

He sauntered over to the desk across from your bed so he could borrow a pen and piece of paper, then carefully avoided picking the stationery he remembered you calling ‘the expensive stuff’. Personally, he doesn’t understand why anyone would buy writing supplies when they were always just laying around somewhere, but he didn’t judge you. 

Steve started the note out by addressing it and drawing no less than five hearts around your name. Then he got straight to the apology. He wasn’t sure how much he should say, so he just told himself that he’d explain, apologise, and promise to make it up to you until his hand started cramping—and he did just that. He signed his name at the bottom of the page, then capped your pen and thought about where to put it. 

His first thought was to leave it on your pillow, but then he got worried about you smudging it in your sleep and not reading what he wrote, so he went with his next thought of your nightstand. He would leave it by your alarm clock, leave, then you would find it in the morning and all would be okay. But a shiny object on the night table caught his attention and delayed his plan. 

You always wore a gold locket, but you never showed the inside to anyone. All your friends had tried to guess, saying everything from a magazine cutout of Rob Lowe to a single brown m&m, but you never revealed it. 

And now here that necklace was, right in front of Steve, and he couldn’t resist looking. As worried as he was that you’d be mad at him for peeking, he told himself that you’d never find out and it was only a tiny peek. So, he placed the note on the nightstand, and swapped it for the necklace. 

As tough as the decision was on whether he should look or leave it alone, the locket itself was actually quite easy to open. And once he saw the picture, his heart swelled at least two sizes and he wished he had looked before now.

It was a tiny black and white picture of him that was cut out from the school newspaper. He remembers the exact photo, too. It was his last meet with the Hawkins High swim team, and he had tried harder than ever to win. After finishing the half mile distance a second before the rival school, he was completely exhausted.

Your boyfriend came out of the water, and barely got to sit down for a minute before some skinny sophomore had come up wanting to take a picture of him and the rest of the team for the school paper. He had initially told the kid the buzz off, but you had reminded him how hard he worked, and that this might be the last time he ever gets to be in the newspaper, and he reluctantly got up to pose with the rest of his peers. 

He smiled quickly, then went back to the bench to sit with you, grumbling about how he probably looks like he’s about to pass out in the photo. You laughed, but assured him that you saw his smile and he actually looked like a million bucks. 

He tried arguing, but you fed his ego by reminding him a million times of how pretty he always looks and that the picture was no exception. A few days later, the paper came out and you pointed it out as soon as you saw it. 

“See?” You said with a sigh. “The hottest Hawkins High swim champ ever. I’m gonna keep this forever, it’s such a good picture of you.”

Steve didn’t know you actually kept it for this long. He honestly assumed you threw it out the next day, and he certainly didn’t expect you to keep it after graduation. He stroked the edge of the locket with his thumb and wondered when you put the picture in the locket and just how often you looked at it.

The smile on his face wasn’t going anywhere at this point, and it likely wouldn’t leave until he fell asleep. 

He closed the locket and put it back right where he found it, then leaned down to push the hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He whispered a ‘goodnight, sleep tight, baby’ and walked across the room to crawl out through your window. 

Steve wouldn’t tell you about what he saw tonight, but he was sure he’d never stop thinking about it. 

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things #stranger things fluff #xena's requests

[sky-kiss]

Drink

A/n: I got nothing. I don't know. This is nothing. This is like. Minor lactation kink and some conversation lol. Everything is going under the cut. Here. Have his smug face as my penance.

R/D!Urge: Drink

“Your son was not hungry.” 

There’s an archness to her tone that causes Raphael to lift his head. The duchess lingers near the edge of his vision, a conspicuous distance kept between them. Vanity has kept her from his bed and out of his company; he does not miss the excess fabric draped across her form, designed to hide the extra weight and the heaviness of her breasts. 

The body did not feel like her own, she’d admitted once, head held high. Daring him to argue, perhaps hoping he might. He had no interest in the conversation one way or another.

“This is of interest to me?” 

Joi frowns, gaze dropping. He will not say she is diminished, but there is somehow…a shift---in her bearing, in her essence. She was much the same in the months following their daughter’s birth. Discomforted and robbed of her self-possession, hormones and exhaustion forming some wretched amalgamation. He sees the ragged seams of her fraying control, places where he might hook his fingers and pull. And worse, he thinks she could not muster the energy to stop him. She hugs his stolen robe more tightly about herself. “Please, Raphael. For once, no games.” 

“No games, no whimsy…how tiresome.” He leans back in his seat, folding his hands over his stomach. “Come.” 

The duchess crosses to him, and it occurs to him again how little he likes her like this---this dour little thing. She settles across his lap, wincing as she adjusts herself. The boy…the prince, he amends, had not come into the world as delicately as his sister. It’d taken days to clear the stench of blood from the boudoir. 

His sorceress leans her head against his chin, grumbling and drawing his arms around her. Raphael plucks at the robe’s tie. “Why have you come, pet?” 

She huffs, “Am I no longer welcome in your boudoir, my duke?” 

“You seemed happy enough to keep your own company.” 

Joi pinched the back of his hand. “Your son, your heir, needed me.” 

“The princess is my heir. The boy…” 

“Raphael.” Her tone is softer than he expects, not the righteous fury he hopes to elicit. Too tired, no games, no sport. “Please.” She leads his hand to her breast, heat radiating from the milk-swollen flesh. He pushes the robe apart. The nipple is badly chafed, reddened, and oversensitive. “As I said…your son would not drink.” 

“Haarlep would leap at the chance to relieve you.” 

“Haarlep,” his duchess purrs, fingers stroking back through his hair, scraping across his scalp. “Is no king. My body bore princes and princesses…should it nourish him?”

The devil chuckles, lifting her from his lap and onto his desk. “Oh, wicked thing. A fair point.”

She winces when he spreads her legs. He shifts to his human form in a fit of deference, holding her knees tight to his side. Raphael acts with uncharacteristic care, bowing her back. The devil presses a kiss to her sternum, cupping her right breast to relieve the pressure before suckling.

Her hand moves to the back of his neck, holding him in place. Joi’s sigh borders on rapturous relief rather than pleasure. He finds himself cataloging these noises, each one fascinating: a scrape of teeth and she hisses; more direct pressure and she’ll squeeze her legs around him. It’s best to press the flat of his tongue to her skin, open-mouthed and indirect, and then she makes such pretty noises. So sweet. 

He presses his hand between her shoulder blades, exaggerating the bow of her back. He sucks a bruise into the rise of her breast before shifting his attention to the left, repeating the process. She’s slackened in his arms, relaxing into his touch now that the worst of her discomfort has passed. 

Raphael swallows, pulling back to admire his work. He wipes a stray bead of milk with his thumb, bringing it to his lips to lick it clean. His duchess shivers, staring at him with wide, hungry eyes, mouth still partially slack. 

He kisses her, letting her taste herself on his tongue, slow and languid. 

And when all is said and done, Joi presses him back into his seat. His duchess sinks to her knees with neither comment nor complaint, only a delicious look of self-satisfaction, hunger she longs to satiate. 

Far be it from him to deny her. 

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael x oc #oc: joi #tw: lactation #bg3 fanfic #my writing #look i dont know #im avoiding working on the things i should be working on

[kitseddie]

This Must Be The Place

Chapter 1: This Must Be The Place

Part 2

(Eddie Munson x GN!Reader)

Summary: You and Eddie were childhood best friends, you were both broken when you moved away in the last year of middle school. But now you're back and you want to reconnect, you will always be friends but this time something feels different...

WC: 2.4k+

Warnings: none!

A/N: I posted this on ao3 but I’m not sure how many people use that to read fics (I only ever use tumblr) so if this does okay I might start posting more (:

It was a casual Wednesday and Robin, Steve and Eddie were manning the family video store for the afternoon. As much as he despised the uniform, he needed the cash. The pill pushing business only gets you so far.

Robin leant against the desk, her head resting against her arms as her ears buzzed with white noise from the dreaded silence. She wallowed whilst Steve priced in the back and Eddie took an overly long smoke break. It was pushing 4 o’clock and there wasn’t a single customer in sight. Robin began to feel herself drift off when she was rudely awoken by a loud chime. A customer. Finally.

Immediately she lifted her head and wiped down her dusty uniform before turning her eyes to look back at the customer, her draw dropped as she took in your appearance in one glance. Bright and beautiful, giving her the warmest smile she’d ever seen. Reality soon hit her when your voice snapped her out of her daze.

“Hey sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you or anything. I’m just new in town and sort of…taking myself on a tour of Hawkins”. You admitted shyly as Robin just nodded and Steve started wandering out the back.

“Hey, Rob have you seen-“. She shoved him back through the door, smiling back as she gestured one second to you. Steve became agitated and confused, scowling at his friend.

“No nope, how am I supposed to have my shot with any of the people in this godforsaken town, if the king of Hawkins is constantly rearing his giant head and stealing them away with as little as a ‘hey, Steve Harrington’?”. She mocked his voice and did little gestures as he rolled his eyes and chuckled at her.

“You’re being ridiculous. And what is Munson not a threat to you?”. Her eyes widened as she almost forgot about her metalhead coworker taking his smoke break outside, she immediately closed the door in Steve’s face and smiled back at you before running to find Eddie.

Sadly for her, she was just a little late, as Robin searched around back to hide Eddie from your eyes he was just walking in from the side door. He pulled his jacket over his long-sleeved shirt and noticed you waiting by the counter. You tapped your fingers against the desk, waiting for Robin or anyone to speak to you.

“Hey, you need help with something?”. Eddie began walking towards you, as you slowly turned around and Robin rushed through the door and let out a deep breath. She was too late. His eyes widened looking at her disgruntled state, as she just wandered in the back without saying a word.

“She seems nice”. You blurted as he chuckled and nodded, looking back to where Robin had run off to. He began wandering behind the desk and he rested his elbows to lean toward you.

“She gets a little manic sometimes”. He whispered as you both chuckled and nodded, his teeth gleaming back at you.

“Don’t we all”. He laughed at your response, patting the table and standing up straight.

“So you here for movie recommendations? Renting? Buying? Donating maybe?”. His hands reached through the return bin, looking at the labels to find something good. You just smiled back warmly, shaking your head and playing with your fingers.

“I’m uh-new in town and I just…I’m looking for someone actually”. You said in all seriousness as Eddie nodded, you rummaged around in your bag to find something. He wandered around the counter next to you, as you finally pulled out an old polaroid and handed it to him. His eyes widened to the size of planets, inspecting the photo of a young boy. “I don’t know if he still lives around these parts or if this is just a shot in the dark, you…you don’t know him do you?”.

His eyes were still, slowly moving from the photo up to you as he tried to process the situation. “As a matter of fact, I do…”. He said, smirking to himself, shaking his head. “May I ask why you’re looking?“. You sighed and rested your head against the counter with a huff.

“Well we were kinda close when we were kids and since I’m back in Hawkins I thought maybe we could reconnect? God I don’t know, is this just super creepy?”.

“I think it’s kinda endearing.” He chuckled and shot you a smile that made you feel at ease, handing you back the photo.

“So if you know him do you know where I could maybe find him?”. Your eyes gleamed with hope and he chuckled, watching your ears perk up.

He grinned widely and held out his hand. “Long time no see, sweetheart”. Your eyes widened as you were rendered speechless, staring down at his hand in shock.

“Eddie?!”. You exclaimed in shock, as he moved his hair to reveal his name sewn onto his work vest. A wide grin passed your lips as you leapt into his arms and brought him into a huge hug, Robin finally walked out for the back and rolled her eyes at the display, storming back. “Oh my god you…you have hair! And like…so much of it”. Your hands grabbed strands of his hair as you couldn’t stop staring and grinning, his smile never fading as he watched you.

“Yeah, I look a little different huh?”. You just nodded with a smirk and dropped your hands from his hair. “Hey, you’re not exactly the same person I remember when we were kids”. You smiled and bowed your head and nodded slightly, thinking about when you were younger.

“Guess you weren’t the only one growing out your hair. At least people won’t mistake me for your brother anymore, huh?”. He chuckled thinking back to how you used to dress, it never bothered either of you at the time, he just wished kids were a little nicer about it.

“Not everything is different I mean, I’m still with my band, we play a lot of gigs around Hawkins”. Your eyes lit up at the mention of the band as it brought you back to all the times they would play. Private performances for your parents and public ones at school talent shows.

“Corroded coffin? Are you kidding me? Oh my god is it still Gareth and-”.

“And Jeff and Grant yeah.” Robin and Steve watched you both through the blinds, shocked to see Eddie smiling for once. Steve was usually the one with the game, but today it seemed his coworker was doing pretty good on his own. Eddie glanced over and noticed them immediately and sighed, shaking his head, staring up at the ceiling and praying for the Lord to give him strength.

“Here”. He grabbed a pen and some paper and started writing down his home number and handing it over to you.

“Home phone, no pressure to call. Power is in your hands.” You stared back into his eyes and beamed at him with a wide grin. Without hesitation, you pulled him into another hug and held him tightly.

“It was so good seeing you again, Eddie.” As you pulled away he stood in shock at your words and nodded nervously, watching as you waved goodbye and headed out of the store. He let go of the breath he was holding as Robin and Steve rushed out.

“Who the hell was that?”. Steve questioned, Eddie’s face erupting into a wide grin. Before he could open his mouth, a beeping came from his watch.

“Ah sorry Stevie, saved by the bell”. He said, his hands landing in his back pockets as he looked towards the door. “Clock out for me!”. He yelled back as Robin barked back a no, just before the door closed. Life just got a little more interesting.

~

“Hey Uncle Wayne, any messages for me?”. His uncle shook his head sadly and tried to force a small reassuring smirk.

“Sorry son, told you before I’ll let you know if anyone asks for you.” He patted his hand against his shoulder and rubbed it lightly. Eddie was silent as they shared a longing look before he pulled his leather jacket over his arms.

“I gotta go. I’ll be back after my shift, don’t wait up.” Wayne just nodded and took a deep breath, watching his nephew pile into his van and drive out of the trailer park.

It had been a couple of days and Eddie hadn’t heard anything from his former best friend, it wasn’t like he had any high exceptions but it wasn’t like he wasn’t hoping to hear back. He’d been lucky enough to not share a shift with either of his meddling friends and Robin was too occupied with band practice to bug him about it. That was until this afternoon when he knew the storm that was coming.

Today was an unfortunate double whammy, Steve and Robin. Steve alone might have been bearable, he wasn’t one to pry, but Robin on the other hand possessed no filter and that’s when Steve becomes an enabler. And he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, but the more questions Robin asks the more he starts considering his own and his mouth is already moving faster than his brain.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open with a chime of the bell, bracing for impact. And there it was, the strangest and most unsettling sight to behold. His two best friends resting their elbows against the front desk, wide smiles and eyes as he strongly considered they’d be kidnapped and replaced with creepy carbon copies who didn’t blink. With a large sigh, he stomped over to them and folded his arms across his chest.

He walked over to the counter and began pulling things out of his pockets and placing them on the counter. They shared a glance in confusion as he pulled out a small flat-edged die and held it up to the light with a smile. He rolled it against the table and gestured to it with his hands. “5”. He called out, his colleague's faces scrunched in utter disarray.

“What the hell are you doing?”. Robin finally asked, pushing her hands back and folding her arms.

“Waiting for you to do your damage”. They both rolled their eyes and stood up, groaning in anger as they waved him off and their grins were replaced with disappointed frowns. A laugh escaped him, shaking his head and refilling his pockets. Steve shook his head and sighed, looking back at him.

“You’re not even gonna ask why we were grinning at you like psychos?”. Eddie shrugged, it wasn’t something that was super out of their realm of weirdness.

“It’s because you saw me give my number to someone and you want to know if they called”. Robin scoffed with a smirk and looked back at Steve, leaving Eddie in a state of confusion.

“We don’t need to know if they called or not”. Steve interjected, looking between him and Robin. She wandered over to the work phone and picked up a folded-up piece of paper that was left on the table, his eyebrows raised trying to figure out what was happening when she grinned.

“Because we already know they did”. Eddie’s eyes grew wide, a swirling mixture of shock and fear and confusion flooding his mind as his first instinct was to grab at the note.

Robin moved it away as he growled under his breath and sighed to himself. “I’ll give you it under one condition, you tell us all about this mystery person”. He wanted to say no. To tell himself she was bluffing, but either way, they knew what they said on that phone and he would never find out unless he was complacent. So he rolled his eyes and nodded back at her lightly before he went to grab the note again, her hand still pulling away.

She handed the note to Steve who grinned and opened it up, Eddie’s patience wearing thin. “They said you missed a digit off your phone number so they couldn’t get a hold of you, they also…” Steve leaned against the counter and opened the note up to show Eddie. “Left their number and address”. He was silent and slightly embarrassed as he scrunched his face and snatched the paper from Steve, rereading the words and shoving it into the pockets of his jeans.

“For the record, you guys suck”. Eddie hung up his jacket and pulled his work vest off the hook, pulling his arms through.

“For the record, you owe us the low down on your new babe.” He smiled at her with a smile that she knew all too well, a cocky and proud one that was paired with his signature head tilt.

“Sorry Rob, I’m a sly fox”. He admitted pulling his hand from behind his back and revealing that his fingers were crossed during their agreement. Steve sighed and shook his head in disappointment, as Robin rolled her eyes. “And they're not my new babe, I mean god…it’s been years since we saw each other, a lot can change”.

“Come on man, they looked stoked to see you, even with all these...” His hands gestured to his outfit and hair. “New additions”. He wasn’t sure how he was feeling towards them yet, it was all new. They were still strangers to him now. He had no idea if they’d still be considered friends or not, let alone anything more.

“Hey, don’t know if you noticed but I’m not exactly boyfriend material ‘kay?”. He was the outcast, the nerd, the freak. He’d never fit in even before the leather and chains, stuff like relationships were never really something he needed to concern himself with. “Give it another week and she’ll know all about Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson and then you’ll have to find something else to entertain yourselves with.” His friends seemed a little worried about his self-doubt, sharing a knowing look.

“Listen, Eddie, when they called they seemed super nervous and that’s a telltale sign of liking someone! They could have given up after the phone number fumble but they called your job, they asked us about you. Come on, I know you flunked high school twice but you’re smart enough to know what this means!”. Eddie was silent as he processed her advice but struggled to accept it.

“Robin’s right, Eddie. It was written all over their face, all these years and they are running around Hawkins trying to find you? Seriously, super into you”. It was difficult to hear and he still found it hard to get completely on board with them, but he considered the facts. They did say they were looking around town for him, they did call up to try to contact him. They did hold him a little tighter when they hugged him goodbye. But that could mean anything, right?

#eddie munson #stranger things #reader insert #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #stranger things fic #jargyle

[plusvanity]

Alright so, I wouldn't have finished this so soon but some of you showed interest in my silly ramblings sooooo... here are some of my headcanons for Larry's 'aloof' personality.

Asperger Syndrome

-Since he was a small child, there were a few behavioral differences between him and the rest of the children.

He never really knew how to properly communicate. That might be very common in children BUT he literally had struggles trying to explain anything. Sentences like: 'I want that' or 'can I have that?' were never on his tongue and lots of time he'd get upset at himself/ people around him for not being able to read his mind and take care of his demands. This kind of behavior crosses a bit into 'anti-social' tenancies. (Hard time to communicate, preferred playing alone, very poor social skills, etc) Shortly, his 'forever-upset' personality resulted in children excluding/ isolating him from their games and plays.

-Larry didn't know why nobody wanted to play with him, why everybody avoided him like plague and gave him dubious looks. Throughout his kindergarten and early-school years he never made friends, never had any significant relationships except with his parents.

Why did nobody see these signs and act accordingly?

We're in the late 90's. There's no such thing as ‘diagnosing kids with mental illness’ unless they've got some kind of schizophrenia that really makes them act out. Parents had little to no information about mental health, let alone autism and how it manifests in children. Rough times but that's how they were.

-Growing up lonely, Larry found his refuge in drawing and writing silly little cartoon stories. Solo hobbies are extremely common in the autistic spectrum, especially when they come in package with die-hard fixations/ obsessions.

-Sensorial sensibility: he can’t stand bright lights in his basement. That’s why he always keeps a small desk lamp on and nothing else to see around him.

-In school, he did poorly. The motto was: it’s either you’re the only one who gets it and nobody else does OR everybody else gets it and you’re the only one who doesn’t. No way in between these two.

-The internal struggle of 'Why am I like this? Why do they hate me? What's wrong with me?' never left his brain. Now, communication was absolutely required no matter if he liked it or not. That's school, you're supposed to answer stuff, use your brains to solve problems and get through the day.

-Firstly, he did what his autistic mind told him to do.. he went fully fucking honest and blunt. With every occasion when he got asked about something, he innocently pointed out everything that bothered him/ seemed wrong or annoying without any fucking filter whatsoever. Needless to say, his true-nature approach didn’t escape punishment. His mother was called, the teachers complained that he’s ‘too mean and arrogant’ , ‘never focused’ , ‘too lazy and selfish’ etc. Everything while Larry looked like a fucking deer in the highlights telling his mom that he didn't do nothing wrong.

-When he finally understood that ‘being honest’ wasn't the key for normal human-communication, that's when his mind began searching for other ways to go by.

-Masking-

Masking was the second option.

-He watched, heard, studied, learned and taught himself the Fine Arts of mimicking normal human response in social situations. Now, that's how he mostly made it work.

-As a chill but tragically misunderstood child, he had finally learned how to make friends. It started with Ash and Maple (alternative music and general outcasts) and later in middle-school, Ash presented him to Todd. (Now, I'd rant about Rob and their 'brother from another mother' dynamic and friendship but that's for another long post if any of you are interested)

-When his father abruptly disappeared from the family frame, it just.... made everything ten thousand times worse for Larry (This is gonna be another post if you're interested)

-All in all, now with a select group of friends he’s still aloof, weird, too loud or too quiet sometimes BUT at least he’s not alone and miserable anymore.

Normally, he's a laid back dude, a stoner (autism and substance abuse is another headache of a post..) a metalhead and maybe just a little delinquent sometimes after 8 pm because of teenage rebellion and all that stuff.

-His ‘masking act’ falls sometimes when he talks about painting, video games, music and basically everything that interests him. Asperger in boys is a lot different than in girls. Girls tend to keep their ‘masking act’ better than boys as boys often don't realize when they slip and start talking miles and miles about their favorite hobbies/ subjects without noticing if the person they're talking to completely loses their interest or gets angry for being talked over and interrupted all the time.

His friends find him a bit annoying at times cause… fuck, who like being talked over? but they’re so used to him that it’s just common and gets easily forgotten.

-When the sudden chronic-insomnia hit him, the fatigue and lethargy didn't go unnoticed by Lisa. Finally, she managed to drag him to a doctor that surprisingly or not, completely missed to diagnose him with autism. The shrink blamed his insomnia on weed (another rant here) and …. ADHD?. Larry took the classic DSM-4 test (oh boy, gotta love the 90′s..) it came back negative on symptoms, confirming everybody that he didn't have ADHD. (Now, I know that the two behavioral illnesses often came in package but with Larry it wasn't the case) After that, nobody did anything.

-Now, he lives freely his teenage years hanging out with Sal, regularly smoking weed, getting deeply offended by the un-true belief that he might have ADHD, still trying to figure out what's actually wrong with him that no shrink or DSM could tell and ultimately enjoying his hobbies and little shenanigans him and his best amigo do.

-The ‘masking act’ has long become an automatic behavior, an unconscious switch for normal social situations so, now he’s most definitely not aware that he’s doing it. 

Sal highly suspects him of being autistic due to the fact that he had far more contacts with doctors and psychiatrists in his entire life that he knows VERY WELL the red flags or autistic behaviors. That and because of their first interaction when Larry was like ‘Sup, you like metal? You GOTTA like metal!’ it screams autism from a fucking mile.

This post is embarrassingly LONG and useless.. and I'll shut the fuck up now for real. BUT If anyone feels like asking questions or going deeper down this rabbit hole, feel free to text me <3 as I love waffling about psychology and pretty much anything lol.

Sorry for my bad English, I did my best in trying to explain all that's written above. These are just some of my little silly headcanons and possibly?? more in-depth explanations for some of the things that go on in my SF fanfic.

Ko-fi l  DeviantArt

#my art #my drawings #sally face #sally face fanart #larry sally face #larry johnson #sf fanart #sf sally #sf larry #sal fisher #my headcanons #artists on tumblr

[devilscreekballad]

Have the first 1078 words of Mrs Meadows' POV in ch7:

---

You wake up feeling as if you had been thrown under a carriage. Which is to say slightly worse than what has become your regular morning ever since Nate's death.

This morning's additional misery, you reckon, stems partially from the past day's stress and irritating nature, and partially from spending the night in the armchair by the window, as you have left the room's beds to Miss Beauchêne and Finley. It's approximately a 30-70 split.

You stretch, slowly and deliberately, evaluating which muscles, joints or ligaments will give you the most struggle. Everything is shaping up to become another long day ahead, and if your instincts do not fool you, said day has just started.

"Are you always up this early?" someone - Miss Beauchêne you recognize after a longer moment than is reasonable- asks.

"Good morning," you respond with a trace of sourness directed rather at the pain between your shoulder blades than at the younger woman. "Yes, I am."

You push the heavy curtains aside to peer out and nod curtly. It's not long past sunrise, the town is in the process of waking up, so your instinctual assessment of the current hour has been correct.

"Granted, under normal circumstances I'd be up and about at a much earlier hour," you add, getting up and pulling hair pins from the now unruly birds nest your hair has become. On the bed Miss Beauchêne comments on the sentiment of getting up that early with a short noise of distaste and disapproval.

"Have you slept well?" you ask, as you sit down in front of the vanity mirror, ignoring that sentiment.

"I guess," Miss Beauchêne responds, sitting up from the reclining position she had been in. "It's hard to sleep after all what has happened."

You just hum in agreement, brushing out your hair. Although you recognize that Miss Beauchêne might be in the best position to understand what is commonly robbing you of a healthy sleep, you see no reason to unnecessarily involve her in your problems.

"You really didn't need to let me have the bed," Miss Beauchêne notes, as she moves to see to her own morning routine.

"Yes, I did. You needed it much more urgently, and I'm used to unorthodox sleeping places."

Miss Beauchêne gives you a quite suspicious and scrutinizing look, a trace of misplaced concern on her face.

"Fall asleep on your desk often?" she ventures, making small talk, you figure.

"More often than I would like," you humor her.

"I don't reckon overworking oneself is a healthy habit." She draws a heavy breath that gives away her next words, before a single syllable has even left her lips "Believe me, I know." "I had no intention to doubt you. But I prefer people staying out of my business."

Again Miss Beauchêne casts you a measured and measuring glance, before turning back to seeing about herself.

So do you.

It isn't until Miss Beauchêne produces a little container from her belongings that your attention is on anything but yourself.

First you only pay little attention to the object. It is reminiscent of a thumb-sized bullet cartridge and its use eludes you, until Miss Beauchêne twists the contraption's bottom, producing what looks to be a stick of beeswax out of the device, bringing it to her lips.

"That is quite an interesting thing to see," you note. Miss Beauchêne looks at you rather surprised.

"I would have thought you would know what lipstick is," she says, and you search her face for evidence of mockery. You find none.

"I do, but I was talking about the device you house it in. It is quite ingenious."

At this Miss Beauchêne's lights up into a delighted beam.

"That is too kind, ma'am. I made it myself."

"Oh?"

"Yes." There is an odd joy to be found in seeing the young woman's eyes sparkle as she breaks into an excited explanation. "I had a look into what a lipstick, or a stick of lip balm as it is in this case, could be put into to make it, well, more of a practical device. I got frustrated with the tins and jars and wax papers, it all proved to be quite impractical, a little unhygienic if one looked at it closer, and I have rather dry lips much to my dismay, so I am often in need of some sort of ointment."

"It does look a little like a bullet cartridge," you point out, and Miss Beauchêne nods.

"That's what it is. Well, originally was. What I took the inspiration from I mean. Frankford Arsenal's .45 Colt cartridges, alongside some modified glass tubes. It was quite a bit of fiddling to get the twisting mechanism to work, and since then I refined it to make it more reliable. The result is what you see here."

You arch your brows in an impressed and inquisitive arc.

"Impressive, I must say, really impressive. Patent pending, I presume."

At this Miss Beauchêne — done with applying lipbalm — closes the devise and purses her lips in dismay.

"Mrs. Meadows, with all due respect, but I believe you can guess how just [i]trying[/i] to file for a proper patent would go for people like us. For someone who happens to be a woman, and not a white one on top of that. If I'd file a patent, it's all too likely that nothing will come of it, until I am old and grey and not in any position to defend my rights, when, poof, a white man will miraculously invent the exact same device."

You roll your eyes. Not in annoyance at Miss Beauchêne, but in annoyance at a world in which these words carry far too much truth for their own good.

"And then he'd get celebrated by the press for making the lifes of those poor, feeble women so much easier with this revolutionary device," you agree, dryly and bitterly. "All while still condemning said women for using lipstick in the first place."

You both exhale tiredly and in unison.

In a strained silence the two of you finish your morning routines, and you duck behind the wooden screen nearby to change into clothes that have not been slept in.

"But, well," Miss Beauchêne picks up the hanging thread of discussion, "I still hope to live long enough to see a change for the better."

"Becoming immortal is quite an ambitious endeavour," you observe, pinning your hair up proper.

#baodc meadows #baodc spoilers

[acaseforpencils]

Victoria Roberts Talks about Animation.

Today's interview on Case is a little bit different—I had been seeing Victoria's lovely animations on Instagram, and asked her if she might be interested in talking about them on here. She kindly obliged, so I sent her a loose list of questions to consider, and she sent me back such an incredible rumination on her experiences that I replied back to her "This is so cool! You are so cool!" because though I was expecting something incredible (Victoria being Victoria after all!), it wouldn't be dramatic for me say that I was thunderstruck! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy reading what she has to say as much as I did! —Jane

Find this print here!

On Animation

I’m so fortunate to be working on what I love.

It’s been a long haul in a way. I came to New York City from Sydney, Australia, because I wanted to run away with the Wooster Group-that is, do theatre. Or film. I was already a cartoonist, and I became one under contract to The New Yorker, an enormous privilege, thirty odd years ago.

But since last month, thanks to a software named Callipeg, I make an animated short every week, for which I do the voices, called “Axolotl Mondays.” Finally, I’m in the movies!

To be a performer and tell stories, or at least vignettes, is my passion. At nineteen, with $5000 from the Creative Development Fund of The Australia Council, we made “Goodbye Sally Goldstein”, a five minute animated film. I had three collaborators:

Rob Rogers, composer and musician, Kathryn Pentecost, and Jacqueline Field who drew and painted. From the sound recording, inking and painting, to the shoot, it took six months to complete. My favourite task in all of this was doing the sound breakdown, which consisted of manually running the soundtrack tape through a reader (not sure what the device was called) and jotting down the length of each sound so that you could animate to the soundtrack.

David Deneen founder of Film Graphics was my inspiration and coach. What I knew about animation came from time spent over the school holidays in his studio thanks to my mum, who worked in advertising and got me the gig. They were making an animated ad for Witchy Brew, an ice cream, and I remember they said it wasn’t until they boiled spaghetti that they got the right sound for the witch’s cauldron. 

Every animator had a different style, and each animator’s desk, covered in drawings, felt like a different universe. Val Udowenko and Don Mackinnon were stars in this creative shop that went on to win the Academy Award for Bruce Petty’s “Leisure” in 1976, Best Short Film. To watch David Deneen solve a problem from idea, to script, to film, was my university. 

I left school at sixteen and got a job painting cels for Hannah Barbera. The studio was run by Zoran Janjic, and his mum Zora, ran the painting department. Her “quiet girls please!” in a rich Yugoslavian accent resounded often. It was a big studio.

Sometimes we were on a network deadline so tight that Bill Hannah came to Sydney. We were paid per painted cel, working overtime, and we would try to get scenes with many mouths, as lips were very quick to paint. We stayed in over lunchtime and Mr. Hannah ordered in for us, fried chicken and coleslaw. “Would anybody like more slaw?” he offered, and the painting department cracked up at his American pronounciation of “slaaaaaaaaaaw.”

Again I had the good fortune to hear the soundtrack for a series called “Wait ‘til Your Father Comes Home,” an animated sitcom. I loved the soundtracks, and again remember the sound more than the drawings, and longed to be a creator of some sort.

Some characters come to the world with more dialogue than others. A cartoon strip though roomier than a gag cartoon with a drawing and one line of dialogue, isn’t enough space still for some characters like Nona Appleby, an Australian octogenarian character I have drawn since I was 16. Finally I started to play her on stage, and that gave Nona the opportunity to say everything that is in her heart (it’s a lot!). I maintain that I am a vessel, and the characters do all of the work. 

“Axolotl Mondays” is mid-step between the page and theatre. There is the element of time in a video, which is delicate and wonderful. A friend gave me gift of a six week editing course at MEWSHOP in New York City, which gave me a very good base for cutting and thinking about time. We learned at one of their lectures that “Annie Hall” started out as a film with a stream of consciousness dialogue, but that Diane Keaton’s performances were so extraordinary that it became another film in the editing room. I mention this to underline the malleability, possibility and difficulty of film.

These videos start out with a soundtrack usually, but I learn something new each week about how movement and time on screen works. My animation style is very basic, which fortunately suits my drawing style. It’s detail and timing, and other possibilities which I am learning about that make a piece “sing.” As with most of my work, I rarely know what I am doing. It’s the mystery, the discovery, that keep me on board. 

Callipeg is like having an old-style animation studio at your fingertips. Everything is done on the iPad. It’s so much faster than paper and cels, and cameras-and so accessible. Really a beautiful software, plus the creator’s tutorials are delivered in a native French accent!

Instagram Links:

Kathryn Pentecost is at BohemianPalaceof Art

Rob Rogers is rogers_bob

Jacqueline Field

Don Mackinnon

———-

If you enjoy this blog, and would like to contribute to labor and maintenance costs, there is a Patreon, and if you’d like to buy me a cup of coffee, there is a Ko-Fi  account as well! I do this blog for free because accessible arts education is important to me, and your support helps a lot! You can also find more posts about art supplies on Case’s Instagram and Twitter! Thank you!

#artists on tumblr #victoria roberts cartoonist #victoria roberts #animation #victoria roberts animation

[kermitscavern]

The John Hughes Blues Pt. 2

<- prev | next -> ft. my beloved stobin and Steve’s bi awakening | find it on AO3!

After Robin had asked, ‘Are you always this annoying when you get your heart broken?’ Steve had blushed.

“I’m not heartbroken,” he had told her. “How could I be, it’s not like we were together, or whatever. Ha. Ha.” Robin was unimpressed. It was two in the afternoon on a Tuesday, and the store was dead. The pair were behind the counter, putting off going through the returns bin, and both were leaning against the desk. Steve, propped up on his elbows, Robin with her head resting in her arms. She had shot him a sidelong glance.

She huffed. “It sure seemed like it.” She had gotten her math test back that day, and she came in cursing Ms. Leslie’s name. She had been in a sour mood all afternoon, and her attitude was making an appearance.

“Rob. I like girls.” They had been through this a few times before, when Robin noticed Steve and Eddie getting especially close. They had mostly skirted around it, though, using euphemisms and context clues. It appeared Robin was not in the mood for that that day.

“Yes, Steve. You’ve told me. At length. But have you considered— you might like men? One man, in particular?” Robin looked bored, and Steve was trying to decide if what he was feeling was panic or not. She was just pulling his leg, right? Yeah, but when had her poker face ever been this good…

He scrunched his nose. “I mean… no? I like… women?”

“You’ve said that.” Robin agreed. “But what about men?”

“Robin. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at here. I’m not sure what else you want from me.”

“Is it possible you like both, Steve?” She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face as she sat up. “Sorry, you’re not really supposed to ask so directly like this, but just… I’ve noticed some things, Steve, and I’m a little worried you’re too thick to figure it out on your own.”

Steve was frozen, luckily missing the second half of Robin’s sentence. Both? What did she mean, ‘both?’ “Both?” He blinked.

“Yeah, Steve, both. Have you considered that maybe you like women and men?” She sat up straighter when she noticed his blank expression, gently placing a hand on his arm in concern. “It’s okay if you do, Steve.”

“Yeah, no, I know, I mean, yeah—“ Buffering. Buffering. “Wait, that’s a thing?”

She sighed. Still those worried blue eyes. “Yeah, it’s called bisexuality. ‘Bi’ for two, ‘sexuality’ for yeah, you get it. Bisexuality.”

“Bisexuality…” he turned the word over and over again in his head, tasting it on his tongue. Robin was gay, he knew that, and it was totally chill, it was just, well, he never thought he might be a little bit gay, too. Maybe that was the issue— he never had thought of it, but now that he had, it was making a worrying amount of sense. “Oh. I kinda thought David Bowie made that up or something, marketing stunt or whatever, I dunno…”

Robin barked out a laugh at that. “Oh my god, you really are a dingus. You’re so lucky you have me.” And just like that, the moment had been broken. “Ready to tackle these returns, or what?” They didn’t talk about that word— bisexuality, bi-sex-uality, bisexuality! again, but it had been replaying in the back of his mind on a loop. Sometimes he tried to push it back, convince himself it wasn’t the most pressing issue at the moment. It really didn’t matter what he was if he didn’t have Eddie to feed popcorn to while they watched The Breakfast Club,an ironic pick on both their parts, which they had both ended up getting totally absorbed in. He remembered Eddie pausing the movie when the goth chick leaned over and made it “snow” on her drawing by scratching the dandruff off her head, and sitting up and going, ‘watch this!’ as he similarly scratched little white flakes off his scalp. They had laughed and laughed, and the next time Steve had stayed the night at Eddie’s house, he had snuck a bottle of Head and Shoulders into his shower, because it was the brand Steve liked and he didn’t want Eddie to itch like that.

#stranger things #Stranger things fic #steddie #steve x eddie #platonic stobin #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steves bi awakening #Steve is forced to confront his feelings #kermits creations

[flintox]

She sighed. Barely 20 minutes into her shift and she was already bored out of her mind. Janice's sneakers squeaked against the marble floor as she walked across the offices, heading to her station to start another fun filled day as a bank clerk. The otter sipped her lattè, feeling the slight tinge of pain from the still too warm liquid as it crossed her lips.

The cup was placed on her desk to cool as she pulled out her chair and sat down, ready to start prepping for another 7 hours of work before finally heading home. She pulled herself towards the desk only to hear an odd squeak from under her desk.

Janice was quite used to the odd squeak, wether it was from her sneaker shoes, an odd but comfortable part of her otherwise very professional office wear, sliding across the hard stone floor, or her cheap desk chair making its unoiled joints heard. But this squeak had been different, not rubber on stone or plastic on steel. This had been a terrified squeak.

Without a thought, the otter pushed herself back to examine the source of the noise.

It took her a moment to parse what exactly she was looking at. At a glance it could have been mistaken as a group of roaches, but as she stared their shape became more familiar. Three figures, with two arms, two legs, heads with two eyes staring right back at her. Three minuscule figures, two on the left of her right sneaker, one to the left of it sitting on the ground having just barely managed to dodge her sneaker, roughly an inch in height, clad in dark clothing, staring up at her. "Uh-"

Immediately the three scrambled away from her. Instincts kicked in and Janice did the first thing that came to mind and quickly reached for the tiny people. Though they had a few seconds headstart in her confusion, the difference in size made it so the otter could easily snatch them up one by one.

Janice held her clenched fist to her face, examining the three closer. They were three males, a bull, rat and eagle, struggling against her fingers pathetically, squeaking something too high pitched for her to hear. They were clad in dark clothing, looking almost like burglars. She blinked, not believing her eyes for a moment.

"What do you got there?"

She jumped in her seat. Janice looked to her side to see one her desk neighbor, a bookish ferret named Brett, staring intently at her hand. "UH-"

"Woah!" The ferret exclaimed. "Are those tiny bank robbers?" Brett leaned in closer, drawing more squeaks from the fist held tinies. "No way-no way! I've heard about these guys!"

"You h-have?" Janice stammered.

The ferret nodded. "Well, not these guys specifically. But I've been hearing about gangs using size tech to sneak in and out of banks with small valuables to be resized when theyre back out."

She still couldn't believe what she was seeing. "S-so these guys are thieves?" Janice asked. "We should call the cops!"

"Hold on-" Brett said. "They haven't stolen anything yet. The cops might just charge them with trespassing and let them go."

She narrowed her eyes at the downsized burglars. "S-so what should we do with them? Let them go?"

"Or just smoosh them." The ferret suggested.

Janice froze. Frantic squeaks erupted from the tiny intruders who began to push against her fingers with more fervor. She couldn't just crush them, could she?"

"Or-" Brett said with a smirk. "You could keep them."

"Keep them?" She repeated. "What for?"

The ferret smirked wider. "All sorts of things. Fun things. Like having them serve as your personal pedicure team?"

She glared at the ferret. "This isn't some weird kink, is it?"

"It's totally some weird kink." Brett grinned. "Come on, it's way more fun when you get into it."

She could feel the thieves squirm more in her grip. "I-isnt that kind of immoral?"

"I mean- so is robbing a bank." The ferret shrugged. "Hey, could I have one of them?"

"What?" She balked. "What for?"

Brett didn't answer, he just grinned wider.

Her face went red. Janice looked over to the little criminals, they were staring at her almost pleadingly. She couldn't just let them go, could she? "S-sure. Which one do you want?"

"The bull! I like them masculine." Brett quickly reached over to her hand and plucked the bull out, the tiny crook screamed and flailed between the ferrets fingers.

"Wh-" The otter asked as she watched her coworker move the tiny towards his belt. Using a thumb, Brett held open his waistband and quickly plunged the minuscule bull inside. "What are you doing?!"

"Don't judge me." The ferret mused. "I don't want him to get crushed in my pockets...that and it makes me feel huge." He said, adjusting himself in his seat.

Her face was beet red. She could hardly find the words. Janice slowly looked over to the two remaining shrunken bandits in her hand, both had resumed struggling against her fingers.

In a very sudden and quick movement, she moved her hand to her chest and pulled upon her blouse, shoving the two into her bra and closing it up again before anyone had a chance to see feeling the tiny bodies squirm against her breasts as she fumbled the buttons back into position.

"That's the spirit." Brett sighed as he turned his chair towards the from of his cubicle.

Janice only nodded, resisting the urge to bury her face out of embarrassment.

"So." The ferret said softly. "What are you gonna do with then when you get home?"

"I-i don't know." She croaked, feeling the two slide further down as they tried to fight their way out.

"... do you want suggestions?"

She swallowed. "...s-sure."

#sizetumblr #macrophilia #size kink #giant/tiny #macro/micro #furry anthro #story #macrofurry #macro #furry #giantess #otter #male giant #ferret

[lookbluesoup]

Random question time!

Has Lyrha ever been to Old Sharlayan and Thavnair? Does/would she like it there?

How does Nahte'to find the Myths of the Realm raids? What does it mean to him, meeting (and fighting) the Twelve? And how does he get along with that Deryk fellow?

Thank you so much for the ask! :3

1. Lyrha's been to both Sharlayans thanks to Nahte dragging the Red Mages into Scion business! She also visited the abandoned colony as part of her training with Arya and X'rhun, during the RDM questline. She didn't really understand why they'd ditch such a well-built place with so much wealth and technology... until she landed in their main city and met the populace. Suffice to say her friendship with the Scions was not enough to stop her from robbing Fourchenault of various important looking knick-nacks and leaving a dead fish in one of his locked desk drawers. She says he was asking for it.

Before then, she never had much reason to set foot in either, although the seas around them? Those she can navigate like a pro! I'lyrha is... very extremely extra wanted in Thavnair. As a trading hub between East and West, she worked with many a crew during her pirating days to harass ships coming and going. It's possible she earns a pardon over the course of Endwalker, at the Scion's intervention... but for most of the Blasphemy business, she's in Ala Mhigo with X'rhun, so she's not done much to foster reparations with Thavnair or Radz-at-Han. I don't see that being resolved, at least for the moment.

She probably did visit it a few times before she became notorious, and I think she would have enjoyed its bright colors and vibrant people. The giant eyeball carving "watching" the way into Radz-at-Han though? Terrifying. Very sus.

---

2. At the time you asked this I had gotten as far as unlocking Aglaia and then... been too scared to touch current expac raid content for months since. So a double thank you for the ask because I finally faced my fear and did both it and Euphrosyne this past week. Though I spent a lot of Euphrosyne dead on the floor (They call me Rez Mage because I need a rez. Again.) now I actually have enough context to answer this LOL

Nahte has struggled with his faith a LOT through MSQ. He was fairly devout about Menphina until Dalamud exploded into a Primal. Things started to get a little shaky after that...

But when Hydaelyn spoke to him, CHOSE him? He really believed in the cause. He wanted to be her champion, to serve as he was called. As it progressed... a lot of things she did, or didn't do, or omitted/lied about, effectively crippled Nahte's faith in the gods and any trust he had that their goals aligned. Especially after finding out the second moon was also artificial. If he couldn't believe in the Mothercrystal, how could Menphina be different? (His journey through THAT and his feelings about Venat are a whole other essay)

While he'd made peace with a lot of it and generally preferred men be masters of their own fate, there were a lot of unresolved emotional wounds that I think... true to his fashion, Nahte hadn't even realized he was carrying, he'd pushed them so far back.

When he first got to The Omphalos, he was ready to throw hands with another bout of Primals. But this situation is different. Gods like Nald'thal and Halone have been far kinder than he anticipated, none of them have demanded reverence, and they're not aether-sucking vampires.

He doesn't exactly trust them, especially knowing Hydaelyn had a hand in it all. But it's started to pull on some of those loose threads in his mind, and a lot of those wounds are starting to actually show.

Menphina... has so far been everything he could have hoped or wanted her to be. Her love for life, her compassion, her inquisitive nature - her genuine ache to help those who call out to her... that's been healing in a way he didn't know he needed. I think the pulse of drawing that pain out has probably brought him to tears intermittently.

She might not be an omnipotent deity. But so far, at least, she hasn't disappointed him. She's been the embodiment of unconditional, innocent, genuine love that he grew up putting faith in - and the idea that she did hear him, every time he reached out, even when he had doubts... that someone up there was watching, and did care, and didn't see him as a pawn on a millennia-spanning chessboard is a pretty big deal.

More than that, her core purpose is described as not simply presiding over the moon - but also the turn of night and day in a cycle. Something that would certainly encourage Nahte, who in the past often struggled with balancing his Moonkeeper and Sunseeker halves.

I've struggled to break down Nahte's feelings about this in a coherent way but essentially... it's an opportunity for him to reconcile the part of himself that is very spiritual - which was badly wounded by years fighting false gods, with the wisdom he's gained that beliefs shape reality, and his firm desire to determine his own fate. They can coexist - logic, faith, and pain need not be in conflict.

Whether all this arc will ultimately give him any more healing with regards to Hydaelyn, or simply salt the wounds... I'm not sure! We'll have to see how it all resolves. I've been surprised too many times from Shadowbringers onward to reliably speculate.

As for Deryk, Nahte likes him! Nahte can certainly relate to the wanderlust, though he personally finds it more fulfilling to travel with friends at his side. He's... pretty sure the Opo-opo is Oschon. He hasn't asked it, but there have been a few very long bouts of staring back and forth at each other.

#i hope thats coherent i am so sorry about the length LOL #thank you again for asking #gave me lots to think about :3 #ffxiv #nahte'to vhia #lyrha #art #my art #text #endwalker spoilers #long post #menphina

[hibiscus-tome]

FFXIV Write 2022, day 28: vainglory

Vesper Bay is as lovely as G’raha had expected.

There’s much that he’s read about the place in times accumulated over the years; there’s much that he’d heard from Cid, and then the Scions themselves, about what this place had meant to those who once considered it home.

An imposing statue of the town’s chief patron — a single tavern a couple streets away from the water — a dozen tiny shops and offices and homes lining the streets — a single, nondescript office by the water that extends so deeply underground that the sand and the dust will not touch them there.

“You remained here by yourself, all those months?” asks G’raha, as they descend the steps past the front desk.

“Thou presumest that I remained isolated here against my will,” Urianger replies. “I asked to remain here while the others relocated to the new headquarters in Mor Dhona. ‘Twas my choice alone, and one that went uncontested.”

It speaks to pattern that would repeat in his insistence to remain in Il Mheg. The difference here is that it had been a younger Urianger who’d made that choice — one ignorant of the tragedies to come.

—for when he made the choice to remain here, in the Waking Sands, he’d done so with Minfilia’s blessing. It had been a different Minfilia than the one the First knew — a person more so than a symbol of hope, dear to many but not all, and perhaps not wholly aware of the role she had yet to play in this tapestry of intertwined fates.

(A different warrior, fresh-faced, and not quite the Warrior of Light or Darkness, and unmarred by the many, many tragedies to come — a different Y’shtola, who had yet to be pushed to the sorts of extremes that would rob her of her senses — a different Alphinaud and Alisaie, fresh off the boat from Sharlayan and so very convinced that they could make a difference in this foreign land — a different Thancred, far too entrenched in the role the others had expected him to play that no one, least of all himself, had noticed when it had made him a target for Ascian interference.)

“Do you miss it at all, Urianger?” asks G’raha, pressing one hand against the cool stone wall of the Solar. “Those earliest days, when all the Scions had been together, I mean.”

Urianger hums, pacing behind the desk. “’Twas a different time altogether,” he muses. “To compare it to our current practices would be to draw an equivalency that may not exist to begin with. The Scions’ current processes have been defined by the near annihilation of our previous order.” His eyes narrow, as he averts his gaze downward. “By the untimely departure of friends and comrades we once held dear.”

What must it have been like, to meet in this room? To surround Minfilia at that table, to be in alignment towards a common purpose — an efficient machine, strengthened by the strong ties independently cultivated in each city-state by individual Scions. How much of Y’shtola’s work with the Night’s Blessed in Rak’tika had been informed by her work in Limsa Lominsa? How much of Thancred’s easy and consistent rejection of Eulmoran norms had been informed by his work in Ul’dah?

And what part did the Warrior of Light have to play in all of this, beyond what had been committed to the written record?

(Would G’raha have had a place in any of this?)

As if reading his mind, Urianger gives him a gentle smile. “I have no doubts, however,” he says, “that hadst thou come to us then, we would have welcomed thee with open arms.”

G’raha chuckles. “Your patience with me would have worn thin soon enough,” he says. “I was quite the vainglorious fool, back then.”

“Perhaps,” says Urianger, “yet thine presence would have been valued and respected, as would that of all others who’d pledged their lives in service to the same ideals.”

Were it anyone else saying the same, then it would be little more than pretty words — but because it’s Urianger, a certain warmth, comforting and secure, settles in G’raha’s gut.

“But to answer thine query,” Urianger continues, “yes, I do miss it sometimes. When I close my eyes and try to paint a picture of the comforts of home, of being surrounded by friends… ‘tis conversations in the Ocular of the Crystarium, as well as days spent huddled in this very building that appear with equal measure.”

“Regardless of the location, surrounded by friends both old and new…” says G’raha. He pictures Rammbroes’ camp just outside the Crystal Tower, in Mor Dhona — the Isle of Val, surrounded by fellow scholars — idle days in the Crystarium, Lyna at his heels throughout various stages of her life, all the artisans and crafters and guardsmen and apothecaries and beast handlers working together to make the city a safe haven for all who sought refuge from the Sin Eaters’ onslaught.

—and then: the Rising Stones in Mor Dhona, in a body both familiar and not, surrounded by friends connected across worlds, across timelines.

He takes Urianger’s hand in his, commits each line and callus to his memory. Let this, too, be something worth returning to — a source of comfort and warmth and security, that can only be attained in the presence of loved ones held most dear. “Come,” says G’raha. “Let’s go home.”

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #g'raha tia #urianger augurelt #uriraha #g'raha x urianger #fic

[raid3r-r4bbit]

someone broke into my apartment. I havent been on because the only thing i have that i can access the internet on is my work computer ( i can get into trouble for using even spotify on that) and my switch ( just got it last monday. in another situation id be ecstatic about getting a new game system, but right now im just glad i didnt leave it out in the open)

Firstly, sorry if the formatting weird, im not used to my new phone yet.

Secondly im sorry for the people who wanted drawings from me, im gonna try my best to recreate them and post them.

Thirdly, this is really fucking long, tldr, someone broke it, let one of my cats out stole my tablet, phone, and a bunch of my games so thats why i was gone. read for details? I guess? I wouldnt lol.

also fuck you theres typos, of course theres gonna be typos.

SO…

small town does not equal no crime. After the (insert wherever the power comes from) was fixed, it has some issues and shut down again a few days later. idk why. My rm and i decided to walk to the gas station for lunch, they had power, music, cold drinks and food, and bathrooms that have functioning lights. Our landlord said it would only be a few hours, so we used our backup battery packs ( yes the ones we’re only supposed to use for work or incase of emergency) to power a fan and opened a window (the little net thing closed) for the cats and left.

because we were only going to be away for an hour, i left my phone (by accident) and tablet on the couch. in plain view of the window.

well, we have a lot of college students who walk directly by out porch ( i even had a girl threaten to call the cops on me for smoking… on my own fuckin porch) and two other girls who decided it was public chatting place and were upset that interupted them wheni asked them to leave.)

we dont know if it was a college student, or someone else, called the cops and got it all sorted there wasnt much they could do ( figures)

they came in through the window, and we think they either left it open, or that Patches, one of my cats, got out when the opened it, because she was gone when we came home, and she liked to hang out by the window. Thankfully, miso hates going outside, and katsu is scared of everyone and hides when people come over. we still havent found patches. im not worried about her, she didnt really like us, she isnt declawed, and she was orginally an outdoor cat anyways. we left out food and water and liter for her, but if she comes back she comes back. ive lost enough animals not fret over it. (tbh if it was on of the other two id probably sob)

but whoever broke in stole a bunch of my game stuff. we dont think they even went into out bedrooms, cause nothing was out of place. it took me realizing some of out stuff, the cat and the askew window (what the fuck is that thing called??) to realize we’d been robbed. ( well me actually, my roomate keeps all his stuff in his room which is fair because other than HBO i pay for all the streaming services, and i (thankfully still have) 4 consoles, which wont fit in my tiny ass room.)

they took my phone and tablet. (not worried about the phone, it was some dinky burner phone) a package off our porch ( it was mario kart, i got a switch like last monday, and the only game i have is animal crossing. very fun. thankfully, id left it on my desk.) they also took a few of my games, thankfully i have duplicates of most of the ones they took and digital copies.

ironically, the version of TLOU and FO4 (i have 4 copies of fo4 including the digital copy) were the scratched up versions, they did take my copy of infamous for the ps3. and they also took my unopened copy of RDR2. so like, pricey items but the only thing im upset about are my tablet and my cat.

for those wanting the drawings i promised, i will still get them to you, thankfully i had a warranty on it and its getting replaced after the police finish whatever it is they say they do. ( doubtful) so it may take a hot minute.

however it also means i have to completely restart my issue 2 of my comic, as i hadn't saved the final pages and the wips anywhere other than my phone and tablet. personally, im frustrated, but it gives me a chance to change a few wee details and try out a style ive been thinking on.

so im probably not going to be super super active for the next few (idk how long, im sorry) but i will draw what i said i would.

As for patches, i told my mom if she comes back pregnant ( again -_-) that we are going to yeet her into a rocket to live with the martians, and get a new cat. (or if she doesnt come back. we work best with a three cat ratio) if its boy we are probably going to name him garbanzo. (this is mostly a joke, but she was intended to be temporary as a friend of mine couldnt keep her anymore and we had been looking for a home for her. surprisingly, nobody wanted a super chill calico who enjoyed nothing but food and sitting directly on your trachea.)

anyways, im tired. ill be patiently waiting for my new tablet and trying to make my ACNH island as destroyed and apocalyptic as possible. (new squared? i got the other one for my birthday last year, so its been almost a year exactly. my birthdays on the 28th <_< >_> if anyones interested in knowing.)

sorry if this is a ramble. im high af and somewhere in between pissed off, depressed, and overly happy about tiny little animals and bells.

#ps #cant stress enough #wherever she is #im 100% sure patches is ok #shes a hardy take no shit cat #i feel nad for not getting her spayed but she came to us pregnant #and the vet hasnt had an opening for spaying

[inkovert]

Some Call It Fate - Excerpt 1/?

WIP INTRO

I picked at my clothes, adjusting its fit in the mirror. Despite just taking a quick shower, I lifted my arms and took a whiff, checking for any signs of post-workout sweat. Kicking my running shoes into the closet, I scooped up my satchel bag, cursing as I smothered a yawn. 

Restless and deflated from last night, I woke up earlier than usual and snuck out for a run. I knew if Jeremy found out he’d be furious, so I’d been strategic about not raising any suspicion. 

Everything was fine. It was all behind me. 

My bare walls glared back at me accusingly. I squirmed in my sneakers. 

In a fit of rage, I’d torn down all my sketches, push pins holding up frayed paper edges serving as the only remnants of what had once been. Taking in the extent of the destruction, something pulled in my chest. 

A knock sounded at the door. My heart rate surged.

“Yo, you seen my shin guards? I practiced out back after dinner and I forgot where I left them.” 

Panicking, I glanced around. Forget getting on my case about running, if Jeremy saw my walls he'd raise hell. 

The doorknob started to turn and without thinking I blurted out, “Jer, what the fuck, I’m naked!” 

The door promptly shut. “Does that mean your ears ain’t working?” 

“I don’t know where your guards are! I keep telling you to stop throwing your shit around after practicing.” 

“Damn,” he said. “No need to get testy.” 

Once his footsteps receded, I exhaled. Checking my hair once more in the mirror, I yanked open my bedroom door.

“Fuck!” I shrieked, jumping back. 

Jeremy stood on the other side, fist poised to knock. His lips parted, then his eyes slid away from my face, his expression morphing into utter horror. 

He shoved me aside. “What the fuck happened in here? Was there a fire or something?” 

I spun around. “No, I—“

“What happened to all your drawings?” He swung around to face me, eyes bulging. “Are you moving out? Did we get robbed? The feds after you?”

Closing the gap between us, I clamped my hands on his shoulders. “Jer, calm down. Nothing is happening. Everything’s fine.” 

His brows furrowed, and he jerked a thumb behind him. “Whatchu mean ‘everything's fine’? This looks like a cry for help.” 

“I’m just…redecorating,” I threw out frivolously. 

He squinted, clearly not buying it. Casting a critical look around like a detective sniffing for evidence, he paused, then glared at me. “You went running.”

The accusation startled me but I kept my cool. “What? No I didn’t.”

He took three long strides over to my desk chair and brandished my silk headband. 

I resisted the urge to slap my forehead. How could I have been so careless?

I shrugged him off. “Okay, so what? I went on a little run. Exercise is good for you, you know.” 

“No,” he said with a vigorous head shake. “Not the way you do it.” 

“Jer, seriously I’m —“

“Don’t downplay this shit, Cami,” he harshly cut me off. “You promised. You told me it wouldn’t happen again.” 

Tears threatened to well up behind my eyes. “I—“ My mouth went dry. “I won’t push myself that far again. It was a one time thing.”

Dropping the headband, he crossed his arms. “How many times do you have to go through the trauma of thinking your sister has gone missing only to find her passed out on the side of the road for you not to be scared shitless at the thought of her ever running again?”

 Clenching my jaw, I deflected the pleading, accusatory look in his hazel eyes. 

He threw up his hands. “Look, I can’t tell you how to grieve. But putting yourself in danger is out of the question.” I stubbornly wiped a stray tear from the corner of my eye. He sighed. “I get it, man. I know you two had your thing with music and all that. I lost him, too.” 

Looking up at the ceiling, I blinked away tears. “I talked about him in the past tense yesterday. Without even realizing. Like that shit was fucking normal." A crease formed between my brows. "When did that happen?” I asked quietly into an open void. 

Kicking at the carpet, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “It’ll be eight next week.” Perplexed, I waited for him to elaborate. “The number of games he’s missed. I can’t stop counting. I always look up into the bleachers, hoping by some miracle he’ll be there.”

I choked back a sob. “I hate this. This…this pain. This ache. “ My fingers curled into claws close to my chest. “It’s embedded in me, in my bones, and I feel like it’s never gonna go away.” 

Without hesitating, Jeremy swept me into an embrace. 

“Do you wanna talk about the walls?” he asked, voice soft.

I shook my head. “No.” 

#scif excerpt #wip: scif #writing #creative writing #writeblr #my writing

[shyree155]

AI: Helo! We welcome you on the end of your life.

Pierre: What? What happened? Where am I?

AI: I'm your host here, and if you have a moment to spare, we'll I know you have now, I'm gonna show you a little summary the highlights of your life...

---

This sport was truly the foundation of my life. I was living for that adrenaline and the hype. Some bad moments on the way, but many many happiness came along too. I would never change that life for anything.

Let me stop here for a moment and talk about a very special person in my life. Her name was Sachiko. I met her one of my home gp when I was still in f3. She was so nervous first when I saw her. We stayed in touch after this, and it turned out she's a physio therapist. This picture up there was taken at my first f1 race. Sachiko invinted me for a cup of coffee and she proudly showed me the contract that she's now officially a physio therapist for alpha tauri. Sadly my grinning face not on the pic, cause she almost dropped her phone when I hugged her. I was so happy that she could chase her dreams. And well yeah, I was happy that I had her by my side.

And from that on she was always by my side. And I couldn't complain, I liked that. She couldn't stop taking pictures of me, and i couldn't stop smiling at her.

Did I mentioned that she could draw like a God? I was obsessed with her works. She showed me every one of them, except for the pictures of me. She made this drawing after my first win. She was all over the place the next days and she left this piece of art at her desk. Obviously my eyes find it immediately. I was holding the pic, smiling like an idiot when she came back to the room with coffees in her hands. When she saw me observing her work she almost fell. I quickly grabbed one mug and we placed our drinks on the table. I was just standing there, grinning like an idiot.

- Did you make this?

- Yeah - she answered, looking at her shoes. As I could see a tiny blush on her face. She was adorable.

- Why didn't you show me this? This is awesome!

- Really? You like it? - she finally looked me in the eye.

- Of course I am. And if you don't mind me I'm gonna rob this, frame, and put it on my wall. - I grabbed the picture and started to walk away. When I went next to her, I slowed, bend down a little and placed a small kiss on her rosy cheek.

- It's beautiful- I whispered. Then left the room, leaving poor Sachiko speechless.

This was the first time she visited me at my home. She wanted to come for a Paris city tour so bad, I bought her tickets for the summer break. We walked around the city, I bought her croissants and coffee. I barely could dragged her out from a bookstore. We couldn't find a nice place to have lunch so I invited her to my apartment. My parents were home, they greeted us like they haven't seen me for ages. They saw Sachiko in the paddocks for a few times, but they met her properly now. I went to the kitchen to make food for everyone. I strange, I thought, I introduced her like one of my friends but seeing them talking to each other in our living room, it felt like a whole family.

We had a tauri team building day at the red bull ring. We walked around the track, there was some party activities and miniconcerts too. After the main events, a few of us stayed there. We were sitting under the podiums. Only fire was missing for the full campfire thing. The guitar part was there as well. Well not exactly guitar but Yuki idea was to do karaoke using the podium for perform. After one another we do our turnes, when the girl gang went to do performance. Few of them grabbed their phones for the lyrics.

"People say we shouldn't be together "

This song was familiar for me. Oh of course this was our song for the night cruises with Sachiko

"Cause this love is only getting stronger"

She peeked out to me for a moment. But I saw the sparks in her eyes. I always did.

"They don't know about the up all nigts"

She didn't needed the lyrics anymore. She was singing from the top of her lungs.

"They don't know I've waited all my life"

She was looking at me now. My vision went blurry, I only could see her at that moment. I raised my hands and sang with her loudly.

"Just to find a live that feels this right"

After the party we decided to walk home, since the hotel was near. We walked alone in the street, with Sachiko side by side. That song was stuck in my head all night.

- You okay? You're so quiet. - she asked looking up at me. I hummed the song

- So if don't wanna wait any longer - I sang out loud. I stoped and grabbed her hands to face with her.

- I just wann tell the world that you're mine girl - I mumbled

She looked a bit surprised, maybe by my actions or by my voice, but her rosy cheeks got me weak. I cupped her cheek and leaned closer. She got lost my eyes but nuzzled closer. I kissed her lips gently and completely lost in that moment. The night, the silent streets, it was perfect. And the song in both of our heads, which helped us found each other.

---

S: You're here?

P: Sachiko?

S: It's good to see you, Pierre

P: What is this? Where are we?

S: It doesn't matter. We are finally together again...

#Spotify

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. II

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 10k

➵ warnings : none really, swearing, mainly fluffy and funny interactions, some angst! :o 

➵ a/n: and i’m back with chapter two! i really wanted to say thank you for the love and support i received on the first part of maybe i do, it was astounding!! i’m so grateful so many people loved the story and asked to be tagged (all at the bottom <3), it made me feel so motivated to write. if you would also like to be tagged please message me. your feedback is always appreciated! 

chapter two : “on my pillow, can’t get me tired” 

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

Taehyung didn’t remember sleeping anywhere near you last night. 

He remembered that even though you willingly agreed to share the same bed, he still opted for caution and slept with the most space between you two as possible.

Though when his eyes fluttered open the next morning, eyeballs burning from the light that bled into the suite, the first thing he realized was that he was not on his side of the bed from last night. 

No, he had somehow gravitated towards the center, and as if almost on cue, your slight movement and the sound of your breathing alerted him of your nearby presence. 

Peering down at you, Taehyung caught sight of your sleepy head turned towards him and lying on his arm, his other thrown over your torso with you unsuspectingly nuzzled into his side.

Taehyung’s eyes shot open, acknowledging he had succumbed to his habit of hugging something to sleep during the course of the night and he internally panicked. He began retracting his arms slowly, just about drawing himself from you until alarms rang in his head at the sight of you stirring in your sleep. 

Taehyung took the golden opportunity to sit up in a flash, having to physically shake his head to rid the image of your tranquil, sleeping face from his brain, crushing the thought that it was kind of cute.

He found himself chanting the same denial from last night, he couldn’t be thinking of such complicated things concerning you when he knew the second he’d step foot inside his home, there’d be a mountain of paperwork ready for him; even more on his work desk.

He had to be thinking about his job, not you.  

Even if Taehyung was married now, it wouldn’t lessen the amount of work that plagued his life nor make it any less demanding. If anything, his life would be harder now considering the fact that he had another priority to add to his list, another aspect of his life he had to split his attention between. 

He didn’t necessarily hate the idea, just found himself needing to work harder than he already was. 

Taehyung sighed heavily at the thought and swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He took a moment to look back at you, thinking if he observed you a second time he’d be able to piece together how the hell you two ended up in that position, that close. 

By evidence of the forgotten blanket half-thrown off you, he could see you were the tossing-and-turning type, maybe the only explanation for your proximity considering he was the same. 

He also noticed you slept all curled up, like you were cold and the only warmth you knew was snuggling yourself.

Cute.

There it was again, cute. 

Why does that word even exist? 

Taehyung discarded the notion altogether and stood to his feet, stretching out his stiff muscles. He made for the bathroom eagerly to begin his day, though not without fixing at least some of the blanket back onto you. 

“You don’t have a driver?” 

“Not for everywhere I go. I have two hands, I can drive myself.” Taehyung made it a statement to jazz hands at you, showcasing the perfectly capable limbs he was gifted with.

“That’s.. nice, actually. I always see asshole CEO’s getting other people to drive them around.” You relayed as you trailed behind Taehyung, letting him lead you towards the front of the hotel where dozens of expensive cars lined the curb side.

You had no clue which luxury vehicle belonged to Taehyung because quite frankly, he could probably afford every car your eyes caught sight of. It wasn’t until he approached a certain one and retrieved his keys from the valet that your jaw completely dropped, floored.

“This is your car?” You gawked, the sleek design, crispness of its shape and nearly sparkling gloss completely sweeping you off your feet.

“Yeah, think someone like me can’t get a car like this?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow, gesturing towards himself.   

“It’s just-wow. Mercedes CLS?” You inquired without really looking at him, inspecting the car instead as you admired its every curve. Safe to say, you were beyond in love with it. Even if you were always more of a minimalist and preferred the average product, there was just something gorgeous about luxury cars that appealed to you.

“Yeah, actually it is.” Taehyung looked at you impressed, momentarily reminded of just how different you were compared to any other woman he’s chanced upon. 

How many of them knew car models?

Taehyung was intrigued by the fact before speaking with one of the hotel workers, confirming if they had loaded his car with both your luggage and some wedding sentiments your parents insisted you keep. 

Once receiving affirmation Taehyung made towards your side of the car and pulled the door open. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile as he gestured for you to hop in, drawing you out of your stupor. You thanked him warmly before sliding into your seat. 

He let you scramble in comfortably before shutting the door and walking to his side, positioning himself in and clicking on his seatbelt. He watched as your expression lit up once occupying the car, face beaming with excitement as you touched and drank in at the high-end features the vehicle had to offer. Taehyung found himself smiling before he licked his lips and straightened his face, igniting the engine and beginning the smooth drive. 

It was easy to settle the debate on where you both would be living. Taehyung was an enormously rich CEO who lived in an expensive, massive home while you lived in a measly apartment. You knew it was useless to live separately, even more useless to have him live with you. And so you agreed without protest to pack your things and relocate, begin your move into the house you’d share with him for a lifetime. 

The car ride remained quite silent, you mindlessly bopping your head to whatever mainstream song played on the radio, while Taehyung tapped his fingers against the steering wheel or his lap. 

You found your eyes wandering to his slender fingers wrapped around the wheel every so often, sometimes venturing to the other one he placed against his thigh. You began reprimanding yourself once you realized with all the staring, observing and ogling, you most certainly had a thing for his hands already. 

Fuck. 

They were just so big, bigger than what you’ve seen of the average man and it didn’t help that they looked crafted to perfection. 

There was just something about the veins that decorated them, his palm large in size as his fingers seemed deft turning and working the steering wheel. His little accessories like a ring or two, bracelets and his watch did absolutely nothing to deter your interest either.

It only increased once you realized he looked good driving, really good. You knew men had this common attractiveness to them when they drove, watching them all focused and effortlessly working the car somehow sexy; but watching Taehyung drive was another experience entirely. 

He looked insanely hot, and you felt like throwing yourself out your window for even thinking such a thing. It was another case of you ogling him without realizing until his deep voice suddenly fished you out of your thoughts, questioning. “Did you like the wedding?” 

“Huh?” 

“The wedding, did you like it?” Taehyung repeated, glancing at you. 

“Does it really matter if I did?” You asked, this one phrase seeming to perfectly sum up the misfortune of your life, provoking an ironic laugh even. 

“I think it does. A bride should always enjoy her wedding.” 

“Well, I didn’t.” You deadpanned, your expression turning frustrated having to remember that one of, if not the most special night of your life had just been robbed of you, thrown to the wolves while you were only left to accept the sad fact. 

“C’mon, you didn’t enjoy a single thing?” Taehyung didn’t mean to flash back to the kiss you two shared, though found himself doing exactly so. 

You didn’t enjoy that? he questioned in his head. 

“Not really, I just imagined having more choice in the wedding.” You answered honestly, trying not to sulk so much. “It’s not you, I just... thought I’d be able to decide things at my own wedding. I’m grateful your parents did so much, but I didn’t really get to choose anything.” You grew more solemn as your gaze fixated on nothing, watching the world pass you by through the car window. 

“My favourite flowers weren’t even there.” You said only despondently to yourself, shoulders drooping, though Taehyung didn’t miss it. 

“You don’t like roses?”

Your eyes flashed towards him with furrowed eyebrows, surprised he heard your comment. You straightened up before shrugging back a response. “I like peonies.” 

Taehyung looked at your side profile as you turned away, finding the conversation turning more sorrowful than he liked. He allowed some silence to linger as you leaned your chin against your palm, boringly watching the bustling streets.  

He decided to change the subject.

“So you don’t think I’m an asshole, huh?” 

“What?”

“You said you always see ‘asshole CEO’s’ getting people to drive them around. But I don’t, so I’m not an asshole to you?” Taehyung halved his attention between you and the road, glancing in your direction with one hand working the steering wheel.

You thought the question over, “No, you’re not an asshole.” You said simply, distracted by the thoughts that previously occupied your mind. 

“I see.” Taehyung pursed his lips. Another beat of silence passed through the downcast air before Taehyung perked up again.

“Is it just the driving? Or do you have other criteria?” Taehyung asked inquisitively, leaning back into his seat as he observed you. 

You could detect from the corner of your eyes the way his stance drew attention to his legs, thighs broad as he sat. “I guess there is.” 

“Like what?”

You didn’t really know why Taehyung was so curious. You thought it was common knowledge what the stereotypical asshole CEO was like; they were nearly all jerks with horrible one-percenter mentalities and treated people like gravel.  

You scoffed a bit. “They’re usually so full of themselves. They act like they own the place all the time, which makes sense at their own companies but not everywhere else. It’s like the position gets to their heads. Even the way they talk is condescending, belittling, or straight up rude to anyone not on their level. It wouldn’t kill to be nice.” You revealed almost too eagerly, avoiding eye contact with Taehyung as you viewed the traffic on the road ahead, remembering he was a CEO himself. 

Long story short, you’ve had your fair share of experiences meeting them as you grew up during the beginnings of your father’s company. They were quick to skew your opinion ever since you watched the way they treated your father all due to having a start-up, for simply being small in name or reputation. They acted like he was less than, some even daring to behave as though his company would simply never make it. 

It always boiled your blood, left an extremely distasteful image of CEOs and the business world in your head. 

And you were certain it all sucked after that. 

“Understandable.” Taehyung nodded agreeably. “But you think I don’t fit any of that?” He rested a hand against his thigh, sitting laxed as he spread his legs apart further. This time it was definitely hard to miss the way they appeared, all laid out and long as your eyes drank him in, following up his thighs all the way to his-

“You don’t. I thought maybe since you’re super successful you’d be full of yourself. But you’re not, really.” You snapped yourself out of whatever the hell you were doing, trying to refocus on the conversation.

“Ah, seems like a stepping stone.” 

“Stepping stone? Towards what?”

“Towards you not hating me.” His voice came out with a more solemn timbre than you expected, his jaw tightening for a mere second. 

Taehyung only thought such a thing because even if he decided you didn’t harbour negative feelings towards him, there was no way of him determining whether that was true or not without your real input. 

“I don’t hate you, Taehyung. I don’t.. think I can.” You claimed with poignancy, his statement causing you to reflect on your own feelings about him. 

You don’t hate Taehyung, you couldn’t because he did absolutely nothing wrong in this situation. He was dragged in just like you were. You only despised the unfairness of the arrangement, not him. 

There wasn’t much to hate about him.  

“So you’re saying you like me then, aren’t you?” Taehyung suddenly teased light-heartedly, all smug as his amused eyes flickered to you. 

“Shut up, I never said that.” You turned away, scandalized by his remark. 

“I’m kidding. But, why do you think you can’t hate me? I pretty much.. ruined your life.” Taehyung internally felt his chest tighten at the words, remembering the exact thoughts from where he stood no less than 24 hours ago, seconds from lawfully marrying you. 

“And I didn’t ruin yours?” This time you turned your gaze towards Taehyung, meaningfully. Your eyes instinctively communicated your emotions as they locked with his for a moment, Taehyung all attentive. 

“I took away from you just as much you took away from me. We both ruined each other’s lives, there’s no use in blaming each other. That’s why I can’t hate you.” You finalized, crossing your arms and opting to watch the passing buildings through your window again. 

Taehyung absorbed your sudden confession with reason, realizing that in a sense, you two were partners in this unfortunate case. Even if your matrimony constituted a forced partnership neither of you liked, there seemed to be a natural comradery in having to deal with the aftermath of that forced partnership. 

Trying to accept it. 

“I don’t think I can hate you, either.” Taehyung admitted, ending the more miserable part of the conversation as you fell silent. You thought he was done until he decided to bother you again. 

“I think you’re still saying you like me, though.” 

You turned to him half-appalled before pointing towards the road, eyes narrowed. “Just drive us home, will you?” 

Taehyung laughed at the moment and pressed down on the accelerator, internally grinning at the fact you never said no to his statement. 

“This is your house?” You found yourself gawking again at something that belonged to Taehyung, stepping inside a luxury home you’ve only ever dreamed of living in. Sure, you lived with your parents until you were 18, though your father was still starting out with his company for most of those years, not exactly owning anything too luxurious until after you permanently moved out.

So as you stood trying to prop your heels off yourself, your jaw dropped at the sheer elegance and high-status look to the interior of Taehyung’s home. You had already done enough gawking at the exterior, but being inside and processing the fact that you were now to inhabit this home for the rest of your life sent another wave of shock. 

You immediately observed Taehyung was the type who decorated his home with only the finest, his taste easily identifiable. Aesthetic, lavish, charming. He seemed like a man of utter simplicity though his home said otherwise, showcasing an artistic, exquisite feel you never really expected from him. 

“When will you stop saying that?” He titled his head and smiled through a laugh, removing his shoes and slipping into his indoor slippers. 

“Right, sorry.” You were still struggling for normalcy, somehow forgetting almost every hour Taehyung’s wealth and only registering it once you saw something that indicated it. 

Taehyung sauntered inside and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of his abode. He enjoyed nothing more than being home, in the comfort of his own space. Especially for someone who worked so busily, he found pleasure in doing the bare minimum at home. Relishing in the feeling right now, he pressed his lips together in a smile before glancing back at your struggling figure, catching sight of your size. 

His eyebrows shot up to the sky. “Woah, you’re short.” 

“Huh?” 

“I think I’ve only ever seen you in heels.” Taehyung informed. “Now that you’re not wearing them you’re a lot shorter than I thought. You’re tiny.” He pointed out as he eyed you from head to toe, processing the amount of height you lost simply from removing your shoes. 

“I mean, that’s kind of what heels do, you know, they add height.” You deadpanned, stating the obvious for him. 

“Sorry, it’s just..” Kind of cute, he thought, though fought for another response. “I could probably throw you.” 

Nice save. 

“Excuse me? It’s not my fault you’re so tall.” You scowled at him. “Besides, you’re all height and no muscle, you probably can’t even carry me.” 

“Wanna see me try?” Taehyung was already coming towards you with his arms held out and you sputtered immediately, “No, no, no.” you held your hands up defensively. “Let’s just start the house tour, yeah?” you offered a smile for compromise. 

“That’s what I thought.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes coyly and turned on his heel, signaling you to follow him. 

What you realized strolling through the home as Taehyung discussed its details was that it emphatically represented him like an open book. Even if Taehyung was predominantly unreadable and seemed to always hide a mystery behind his eyes, you could see nearly all of him reflected in his home. 

You often found valuable trinkets or sentiments scattered around the house. It seemed like he cherished a lot of things in his life, namely memories or people. It would also be hard to miss the exquisite selection of paintings and embellishments he draped the walls with, all harbouring their own charm and adding to the overall artistic feel of his home. 

There were famous works consisting of Vincent Van Gogh all the way to local Korean artists you’ve never heard of, though admired their work. 

It seemed as though he selected the paintings himself. 

Another large aspect you couldn’t miss were the many photos he kept, calling to question whether they were of his own work. 

“Did you take these?” You approached a shelf in one of his grand hallways on the second floor, hand brushing the wooden frame of a captured photo; six men including Taehyung himself posing comfortably, like they were extremely close, backdrop reflecting what seemed to be a trip.  

“I took all of them.” He stated casually, hands tucked into his pockets as he eyed the shelf along with you. 

“All?” 

He simply nodded and didn’t elaborate further as he watched you admire the photos, yourself impressed by his adeptness for photography. 

“You’re really good.” You complimented absentmindedly, enjoying the other photos of not only people but scenery, empty streets, candid shots from what looked to be his own little adventures. 

“Thanks.” Was all Taehyung could manage, trying to mask the sheer gratitude he felt hearing the first ever person to admire his work; something that wasn’t related to being a CEO or a businessman. 

He also felt slightly embarrassed you’d seen a small part of him he usually hid.

Taehyung continued walking down the hallway until he reached the end, revealing what you could tell was the largest room in the house. You were thrown off by just how unnecessarily large it was. It seriously reminded you of an extravagant hotel suite, more like the grandest one among them. 

“This is our room.” Taehyung introduced, gesturing towards its interior. 

“Our?” 

Taehyung nodded “I should’ve told you earlier but I wanted us to sleep in the same room. If we slept apart our marriage wouldn’t look convincing to my two housekeepers. I trust them but I don’t want any information about us getting out to the public, not over my dead body.” Taehyung stated in earnest as he relayed the information, wandering further into the room. 

“You really care that much about publicity?” you genuinely questioned. 

Taehyung scoffed. “Not me, I couldn’t care less about what people think.” He denied instantly, almost laughably. “It’s my father. He hates bad press, especially concerning our family or the company.” 

“I thought bad press is still press, so it’s good.” You suggested as you followed him further into the room, admiring that though large, his room held a sense of comfort to it. Quite frankly, all of his home felt rather welcoming and cozy, surprising of a CEO who ran such a monstrously successful company.

“My father doesn’t think so. Kim Enterprises has always been generational, each of our CEO positions strictly kept within the family. Our name is our brand and pride, it alone accounts for at least half of our success. We’re extremely well-known for our high status, it’s just plain fact in the upper social circles of Korea. We can’t afford to taint our name with petty things like bad press or corruption, our reputation is too valuable.” Taehyung stated this all nonchalantly as he adjusted his suit jacket in his mirror, like it was something he’s grown accustomed to and has known all his life. 

You found your opinion impeding his words.  

“So you can never just, escape this life? As long as you’re a Kim you’re bound to this company?” You found the concept wildly restrictive, clearly shackling down any person that would run the business and you felt a disagreeing shiver shoot through your spine. 

“Of course, why would you want anything else?” Taehyung tiled his head to the side, eyeing you in genuine questioning and your entire being was trying to bite back the desire to correct him, tell him there’s so much more to life than just some company your family owns. Though you opted for changing the subject instead, unwilling to step on his toes and dictate his life when you knew next to nothing about it. 

It wasn’t your place. 

“Woah, you have a balcony?!” You exclaimed with a simper, eyes flickering towards the curtains that revealed two ajar French doors leading to an open space.

You made towards it excitedly and stopped just in the middle of the platform, enjoying the breeze of the fresh air.

“It’s my favourite part of the house.” You didn’t even realize Taehyung followed you until his towering figure stood directly behind you, feeling his proximity permeate through your body. 

You swallowed. 

“Why don’t you look at the view?” Taehyung cocked his head towards the railing of the balcony, though you didn’t move a step. 

You weren’t about to tell Taehyung you’re terribly afraid of heights.

“I-I can see from here. Wow, looks beautiful.” You perked up superficially, trying to throw him off and changing the subject again. “By the way, what’s our closet situation gonna look like?” 

“Ah, let me show you.” Taehyung strided back into the room towards the sliding double doors you spotted earlier. He almost theatrically glided both dark wooden panels open and your jaw dropped for the 47th time today. 

You were welcomed by a ridiculously large walk-in closet, enough to be renovated into its own bedroom. You simply couldn’t normalize its size, especially after registering every suit, tie, watch or accessory Taehyung stored in the gracious space. 

You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much money lied in here. 

“Oh my God.” Was all you could manage, meandering in sparingly as you viewed each and every expensive piece he owned in the room, no doubt of the highest quality designers, finest of men’s fashion. 

“You don’t have to worry about unpacking and moving in here, the housekeepers will do that for you.” Taehyung watched as you looked upon in awe, finding the way your eyes sparkled with emotion very similar to that of Bambi’s.  

“How will I fit-”

“I specifically made space for you, there’s enough.” Taehyung stated, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He’d resolved a while ago he really would try to take this marriage seriously, victoriously achieve the work-life balance his father kept preaching. 

He saw giving up his closet space as the first step. 

It was indeed so because Taehyung thoroughly enjoyed fashion. He genuinely adored every suit, accessory and outfit in his collection, though if he wanted to reach this new goal of balance, successfully add you to his list of priorities, then he had to be willing to cut down. 

Even if that meant reallocating a third of his exorbitant wardrobe just for you, he’d try not to mind. 

“Are you sure? I could just use another room’s-” 

“I want to.” Taehyung finalized as his eyes turned unreadable from across the room, locking his gaze with yours and you were only left to look back impressed, his generosity unforeseen. 

“Thank you.” You voiced a little weak, still shy by the suffocating nature of his stare. 

“Don’t mention it.” He offered plainly, propping himself off the wall. He looked off to the side eyeing the empty pockets of space he left for you, until your voice called out to him.  

“Taehyung.”

“Hm?” He snapped his vision back to you. 

You wanted to ask him something, more so a favour and you were unsure how to word the request. “Um.. I didn’t want to ask so openly, but..” You found yourself beating around the bush, timid of what his response would be. 

“Go on.” 

“Um, so it seemed like there were a lot of empty rooms in this house, and I was just wondering if I could maybe.. transform one of them into an art studio for myself?” You winced at your own request. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just I had one at my old place and it really grew on me. I would get most of my work done in that room and gained a lot of inspiration from it. I have a lot of art supplies and designed often in that studio, so I need a home for all my supplies and it would suck getting rid of it all. I’m sorry it means I would have to steal one of your rooms in the house, if you don’t want me to then-” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but break out into a small grin as he watched you ramble on, shyly fidget with your fingers, so apprehensive of asking him for something and it reminded him why he was so eager to provide you with anything you wanted. 

You spent too long trying to do everything on your own, achieve everything on your own, relying solely on yourself. Taehyung could see this all as plain as day, quite enjoying of how he’s never really met someone like you, and wanted you to know you didn’t always have to be so independent.  

Especially with him. 

“Y/N.” He called out to you with the same honey-coloured tone from last night, stopping you. Your eyes flickered to his, awaiting his next sentence and Taehyung already found himself having a thing for your doe-eyes. 

Fuck. 

“Of course you can have a room. You can have anything in this house. It’s yours.” Taehyung stated with a degree of assurance, his eyes locking with yours in earnest. 

You both shared a look as your lips curved into a gracious smile, biting your lip to contain it. His stare wasn’t so much intimidating as it was merely.. calm. Gazing at you for the sole purpose of gazing, and you found some heat rushing to your face under his scrutiny. 

Taehyung seemed to realize he was staring and immediately cleared his throat, turning a little nervous as he began another conversation. “So um, I’m sorry to say this,” he began with unease, almost apprehensive and you didn’t know what he was so sorry about. “But I have work today.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Taehyung internally winced at your reaction, hands finding his pockets. “I took some time off for the wedding, so now I have twice the amount of work left behind. I need to complete it.” He informed straightforwardly. 

“Our wedding was just yesterday, though, aren’t you tired?” You were only taken aback because you were slightly concerned for his wellbeing, wasn’t he tired from yesterday? You recalled him knocking out almost immediately upon hitting the pillow of your hotel bed last night, snoozing away. 

“Maybe, but I can’t afford to rest. I’ll only have more to complete if I do, so I won’t be spending anymore time with you today.” Taehyung relayed the information, readying himself for the even greater disappointing news he’d be passing on. 

“Actually, we won’t be able to go on our honeymoon, either.” Taehyung thought it was best to slip in all the bad news, growing more and more unrelaxed as he was unsure of how you’d react. 

Though what you said next had him nearly floored.

“Honeymoon? Taehyung, that’s the least of my concerns, you should at least rest a day before getting back to work. That’s not really healthy.” You chastised him as lightly as possible, still afraid to be stepping on his toes when you didn’t know his life. 

Taehyung was certain you’d hate having been stripped of a beautiful vacation where you could’ve relaxed in the sun and tropics of Cancun. Your father had mentioned to him you’ve always longed to visit the breath-taking city in Mexico, its clear waters and tropical air as a means to truly get away from your stifling life. 

So when he found you disregarding the trip altogether and instead focusing on him, more precisely his health, he was left damn well speechless. 

There you were again paying attention to the littlest things about him he didn’t care much for; he still had that bandage you offered him a month ago tucked into one of his pockets, not wanting to use the adhesive just yet. 

“I’ll be fine. I’m just sorry we can’t go on the vacation because of me, it would’ve been nice, you know?” Taehyung apologized, feeling genuinely guilty for having ruined the honeymoon. Even if you two weren’t going to travel as some lovey-dovey couple, you both simply could’ve enjoyed the time off.

“It’s okay, just, at least work from home today. Heading to the office would be too much.” You suggested for the sake of the fatigue you could discern on him. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna be home for the next few days since everyone thinks we’ll be on our honeymoon.” 

“Oh. That’s.. good.” You nodded faintly, half at the idea you two were even faking your honeymoon and half at the blasphemous energy he had to work after yesterday. 

The sleep from last night was nearly not enough to recharge from the antics of the wedding, having drained your batteries for the next few days. You were certain his were drained too; he was half the damn couple. 

“I should get going. I’ll send Mrs. Choi and Seo up with your things. They’re probably finished with lunch too, you should eat.” Taehyung advised as he stepped out of the walk-in closet, running a hand through his gorgeous hair and you couldn’t help but ogle at the sexy way his strands fell back on him. 

“Okay.” You voiced as you followed him out, watching him near the room’s door and just about to vacate the premise before you spoke up. “Taehyung.” 

He stopped in his tracks, peering back at you. “Yes?” 

“You should eat something, too.”

Taehyung half-smiled at you with a nod “Sure”, before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone. 

And you couldn’t help but kind of like the way he smiles. 

It was well into the evening now, bordering dinner time as you helped the last of your clothes into Taehyung’s closet, refusing to let the older housekeepers do all the work by themselves considering it was your own luggage. 

You also tried to occupy Taehyung’s room as scarcely as you could with your belongings, feeling odd about suddenly moving in with all your might and changing things around. It just didn’t feel appropriate, like you were invading his space and so you opted for scattering only your necessary items.

“That should be the last of it, Mrs. Choi.” You retrieved your last piece of clothing from the rather soft-spoken housekeeper, tucking the blazer away among the rest. You were satisfied to see not only your wardrobe neatly organized now, but fit just about right with Taehyung’s things. 

He was right about space, there was enough.

“Mrs. Kim, please rest. You didn't have to move a muscle at all for us.” Mrs. Choi remarked, genuinely concerned for you. 

“Yes, please, Mrs. Kim. We can finish up with the little things. I’ve just finished preparing dinner downstairs, you should eat.” Mrs. Seo chimed in as she entered the walk-in closet, gesturing towards the door. 

“Are you sure? I can-”

“Mrs. Kim, you’re very kind for offering your help, we’re very grateful you’ve done so. Though we are Mr. Kim’s housekeepers, we are meant to care for his home and his lovely wife. You need not worry about helping us.” Mrs. Choi stated with an earnest tone, speaking respectfully as she addressed you. 

You were going to protest again before you considered her words, registering that if you indeed helped them, it would technically negate the entire purpose of their work. 

You bit back your reply as a result, crafting a new one. 

“I see, I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo, Mrs. Choi. I’m just.. very used to doing things on my own,” you looked towards the ground. “I apologize.” You almost dipped for a bow until Mrs. Choi rapidly cautioned you, scrambling towards your figure. 

“Oh dear, Mrs. Kim! You do not need to bow to us, you’re Mr. Kim’s wife, you are the one who is bowed to.” 

“Yes, you do not need to apologize either, we appreciate your help, it was very sweet of you.” Mrs. Seo added with a warm smile, bowing to you instead. “Please go for dinner downstairs, I’ve also informed Mr. Kim for dinner, though I’m unsure if he has made his way down yet.” She added on, urging you towards the room's exit and you recognized it was probably better to listen to her. 

Even if all this high-class, status stuff had yet to sink in or make sense to you after being away for so long, you understood there was an eventual tolerance you had to build for it. Just as Mrs. Choi said, you’re Kim Taehyung’s wife now, and that came with a hell lot of status you hadn’t even scratched the surface of yet.

You could already tell it was going to be a pain in the ass. 

“I suppose I should. I’ll get going, then.” You smiled graciously at both women, appreciative of their kindness and began vacating the closet. You just about pulled the room door open before Mrs. Seo suddenly came to you.

“Oh! Mrs. Kim,” she halted you. “I was informed by Mr. Kim to provide this to you. He would have done so himself though he’s quite busy at the moment.” Mrs. Seo extended her hand and presented a pristine looking card, black and incredibly sleek in design. Your eyebrows furrowed until you noticed the telltale symbols, almost ominously minimal branding indicating a rare card only those with some of the highest networths in Korea could own. 

Your eyes widened in horror. 

The Black Card. 

“P-pardon?” You needed her to reiterate, there was no way Kim Taehyung was giving you a black card, the same card that was limitless on credit and only exclusively owned by the affluent one-percenters of society. 

“He’s informed me this belongs to you now, and that you’re to keep it in your possession.” Mrs. Seo elaborated, smiling through the mental whiplash you were currently experiencing.  

“Belongs to.. me? This is mine?” You were still having trouble processing, why would Taehyung be gifting you this? Who’s account was it even attached to? Was it yours and he’s decided to graciously pay all the expensive fees, or worse, was it joined with his own account? 

Don’t tell me it’s joined with his account.  

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. It’s yours.” Mrs. Seo held it out more outwardly, nudging it in your direction. 

Your mouth fell agape for another second before you mentally collected yourself, quickly grabbing the card and thanking her as you made your exit, marching through the house for Taehyung’s unbelievable ass. 

Taehyung could not be providing you with this card. It was irrational, simply had to have been a decision he made with at least two bottles of soju in him, right? You didn’t care what his reasoning would be, you were denying and returning this. There was no way in hell you’d accept this card, especially if he linked his own personal account to it. 

You tried loosely recalling where Taehyung mentioned his study, logically assuming he was working there. You inspected majority of the second floor, working your way through the halls until you finally caught sight of the familiar wooden doors with glass panels, slightly ajar, light bleeding through.

You made for the room quickly and stormed in without a care, attempting to steady your breathing from all the rushing around. You caught Taehyung completely off guard, having shredded his suit jacket to instead sport the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt, adorning black-rimmed, designer glasses. 

He looked 100x hotter than he should’ve. 

Taehyung suddenly propped up from the leaned-back position he’d assumed on his chair, expression caught by surprise. “Y/N?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing. 

You held up the card and addressed him immediately. “Taehyung, what’s this? Why are you giving this to me?” You huffed, looking at him incredulously. 

“The card? For you to use..?” Taehyung responded cooperatively, confused as to why you seemed so frazzled. 

“But why, Taehyung? This is a black card, the annual fees on this are insane and I can’t pay-” 

“You’re not paying for them, I am.” Taehyung cut in, shutting the binder he was holding and placing it on his desk. 

“What? No, no way. If it’s my account then I should be the one-”

“It’s not your account, either, it’s mine.” Taehyung brought his elbows to his desk, hands clasped together in front of his lips. It was now he gave you that same intimidating stare he did back when you first met him, calculative and devoid of expression. 

It seemed he did this when he got serious. 

“Your account? But-Taehyung, this is your money, I can’t just have it. Please, take this back.” You stepped towards his desk to return the card eagerly, but Taehyung’s firm tone stopped you. 

“No, it’s yours. I gave it to you to keep.” His words held this underlying sense of authority, scratch that, dominance when he spoke seriously, resolute. You could instantly tell he possessed a natural sense of alpha male characteristics, enough that even though he wasn’t being harsh or looming, his words and the tone he coated them with held more power than you could manifest. 

You almost cowered, but remained adamant on returning the card. It was worse with the card attached to his account, you couldn’t just keep Taehyung’s money like it was your own, it simply wasn’t. Your money sat ordinarily in a separate account on a separate card, which you were happy enough to use. You weren’t going to mooch off of him, it went against every principle that made up your very being. 

“This is your money, Taehyung. I have no right to use it.” 

“You’re my wife. You have every right in the world to use it.” Taehyung countered with no emotion, or at least any you could discern, uncertain what was running through his mind with only his eyes as a guide towards the answer. 

And you knew his eyes didn’t tell. 

“Taehyung, this doesn’t feel right to me. This isn’t my money and I can’t use it.” You emphasized more strongly, drawing closer to his desk though halting your actions once he spoke again. 

“My money is your money, you can always use it.” You knew he was relaxed, appearing practically unbothered as he leaned onto his desk and eyed you. Though with the intense look in his eyes, his aura screaming for anyone within the vicinity to submit to him, he could easily seem frustrated with the situation, namely you. 

And it made you want to crawl into a hole.

“No, it isn’t. I’ve already intruded your home, taken your closet, your room and even an extra one just for myself. I will not take your money either. Please, take this back.” You held out the card more prominently, desperate to have him understand you.

Taehyung wasn’t necessarily frustrated by you, no, he was slightly pissed you kept referring to everything as just his and not yours, that he was the only one considering you two as a married couple now while you still viewed each other separately.

Did you not see him as your husband yet?

He also disliked the fact that you seemed scared of him, or unable to trust him like last night. He could see you fighting back the urge to cower away, genuinely upsetting him you still held a degree of fear and unsureness in your eyes. 

Why are you so afraid of me? 

“Y/N, everything isn’t just mine anymore, it’s yours, too. We’re a married couple, husband and wife. What’s mine is yours.” Taehyung tried to reason, loosening himself up more to seem less intimidating, more approachable.

“But money, Taehyung-it’s different. I didn’t even want to take my own father’s money, there’s no way I’ll take yours, please.” Pleading leaked into your tone as you lips started doing that thing where they just about pout, emphasizing their plushiness and Taehyung couldn’t help but notice it again. 

He started growing frustrated as he removed his glasses, placing them on his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. It seemed like he was digesting the situation, searching for the best approach.

“Y/N, look. I know the kind of situation you had with your father, but I’m not him. Didn’t you hear what Mrs. Choi and Seo addressed you as?” 

You thought it over, unknowing of where he was taking this. “They.. called me Mrs. Kim.”

“Exactly. Even my last name is yours, everything I have is yours. I’m your husband, I’m always going to provide you with things from now on. That card is just one of many.” Taehyung offered his best explanation, making sure his tone wasn’t as serious to sidetrack any fear you still had.

“I understand. But this is a black card, Taehyung, and it’s your hard-earned money, not mine. It feels wrong even just having it.” You couldn’t fight your inner turmoil, you genuinely believed this to be wrong. After spending almost a decade trying to work for yourself, pay for yourself, seldom seeking the help of another, this just left a disagreeing feeling to churn in your stomach.

Taehyung sighed heavily before pushing his chair back, rising from his seat. He made his way over to you where you grew unintentionally defensive, retracting from him slightly as he neared you. He noticed it and pursed his lips, reaching out for your upper arms and taking them warmly, tenderly, waiting for your eyes to meet his before he spoke to you.

“Y/N, do you remember what I said before I kissed you yesterday?”

Your eyes widened having been reminded of the intimate moment, nodding at him innocently. Taehyung witnessed you trying to avoid eye contact and found himself softening. 

“I didn’t say that without reason. I meant it when I said I would take care of you. Your father is a different story, if you don’t want to use his money, I respect that. But I’m your husband, and I want to be a good one. I want to give you things.. do things for you simply because I want to.” Taehyung reasoned, gripping you lightly. “I want you to use my money, you’re allowed to use it.” He tried voicing with sincerity, earnestly, hoping he could change your mind.

He saw you still hesitating to accept the offer, however, deciding on a compromise.

“Look, you don’t have to use it all the time. You can still use your own card, but you can use mine here and there. Seriously, Y/N, using it won’t even make a dent on me. I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, use it at your discretion.” Taehyung could practically see your gears shifting, searching for your eyes as he wished you’d understand him. 

He saw this as a second step towards work-life balance, only feeling the responsibility and genuine desire to be the good husband in spite of the unfortunate nature of your marriage. He didn’t want any doubt concerning his ability to be a good husband, either.

After all, when Taehyung did something, he always did the best he possibly could.

“Okay, I guess you’re right. But I do have my own money, and I’ll be using that 100x more often than yours.” You relaxed and oddly let him hold you, looking down at the black card that rested in your hand and clutching it to your palm.

Taehyung realized he was still holding you and let go, retiring to fluff his hair instead. You caught a glimpse of his bicep underneath his rolled up sleeve as he did so, and you truly hated you chose a time like this to find him stunningly attractive.

“You should come downstairs, Mrs. Seo prepared dinner.” You ignored your thoughts.

“You go first, I’ll be down in a second.”

You nodded agreeably and turned away, leaving his study. You took a second look at the card in your hand, then glanced around the house as you strolled through it, trying to embed what Taehyung said into the crevices of your resistant thinking.

Everything I have is yours, you reiterated, registering that Taehyung had in fact grown accustomed to the idea of you two as a couple already. He’s accepted it, embraced it, even enforced it now with his earlier declarations and this black card. You automatically felt behind, like you were the tortoise in the race and needed to pick up your pace.

If Taehyung had already come to terms with your marriage, it was only a matter of time before you did as well. Marriage is a two-way street, and if you wanted to make this easier on both yourself and Taehyung, you would compromise with him, accept the true sense of partnership that entailed your status as husband and wife.

Thus was the exact mantra that played in your head as you fiddled with the card, remembering the way his big hands held you.

Warm.

It was night. 

You could say it was like any other ordinary night, though that would be a gargantuan lie. 

This night was the first time Taehyung and yourself were going to sleep in the same bed.

In your own home. 

The hotel suite left you both with your own space and privacy since it was a random, public room with no personality or attachment to it whatsoever, making it easier and comfortable to sleep with him.

So when you emerged from your walk-in closet in a thin camisole, loose pajama shorts and without a bra, you were cursing yourself. God damn you for needing to sleep in minimal clothing for comfort. You’d slept in a loose t-shirt and bottoms at the suite last night since it was a public room, and long story short, it left you tossing and turning more than you liked. 

You had no clue prior to arriving here that you’d be sharing a room with Taehyung. You’d expected to sleep in a different one, in the privacy of your own room where you could prance around as you wished and as a result packed your usual sleepwear. 

But now that you were left having to slumber with Taehyung, clothes on the more revealing side, there was no turning back. 

And what there was truly no turning back from, was when you opened the closet door and your eyes landed on Taehyung’s shirtless, wet self drying his hair after a shower. 

You immediately malfunctioned.

Your eyes fell to his bare back, ruffling his wet hair as his plaid pajama pants hung loosely at his hips. You immediately exclaimed and clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to shut yourself up. 

You did not expect at all for Taehyung to have such honey-coloured skin. It was like it naturally glowed, a healthy tone that made him appear all the more delectable. It certainly didn’t help that his shoulders were broader than you first observed, sincerely an other-worldly experience when he wasn’t wearing clothes. 

You also got an all-access view of his trap muscles, adding to the width of his shoulders overall and when Taehyung turned around to the sound of the closet door opening, gaze locking with yours, you could confirm his neck, chest and collarbones were indeed crafted to perfection.

Taehyung’s eyes widened momentarily drinking you in, not expecting your light sleepwear when just last night he witnessed you in a full pajama set. Not to mention, and he hated that he could tell, but you weren't wearing a bra. 

And the camisole did nothing to hide that. 

Taehyung straightened himself up realizing you two were practically gawking at each other, resting the towel around his neck as he cleared his throat. “That’s what you sleep in?” 

“That’s what you sleep in?” You retorted, arms over your chest. 

“Guys usually sleep shirtless, this is normal.” Taehyung gestured towards his own body and you had half a mind to floor yourself. It’s like Taehyung knew but also didn’t know he was hot, knew the effect he had on people though never grew cocky or proud enough to purposefully parade it around. 

And it frustrated you even more; he was fairly humble about being a sexy Greek God. 

“Girls sleep like this too, this is normal.” You copied him, looking off to the side. 

“I was kidding, I only sleep shirtless sometimes. Just get in bed.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes as he gestured towards the sheets, returning to his palace of a bathroom to toss his towel in the hamper and pull a t-shirt over his head. 

You wanted to move, feet just about ready to carry you but you never abandoned your spot. Instead, you pressed your lips into a thin line contemplating that sharing a bed with Taehyung, in clothes like this and in such proximity, all held a degree of intimacy you didn’t know you two shared yet. 

It’s only been a day. 

So when Taehyung returned to your unmoving figure, arms holding your chest and avoiding eye contact with him, he was quick to get the message. 

“Um.. if you really don’t want to sleep here, I can give you another room.” Taehyung offered, figuring himself this may be too soon. 

“No, it’s okay, that’d be kind of a hassle.” You waved him off. “Besides, your bed looks comfy.”

You were honestly trying to live up to your acceptance that Taehyung was the man you’d spend your life with now, so you’d better start getting use to him. You’d sleep next to him for numerous nights, spend endless days together and share a multitude of things; this would simply just be a first of many first times. 

So you paddled over to the bed and removed the covers to snuggle yourself in, the bed’s coolness sending a shiver through you before you hugged the blanket to yourself. Taehyung stood with a smile before crawling in himself, adjusting the covers to his liking. 

He felt at peace in a matter of seconds, the feeling of his own bed lulling him into a state of slumber already. He reached his arm out to shut off the lamp on his bedside table, leaving the room pitch dark and only his digital clock and balcony as a light source. 

You began to cower a bit in the darkness, thankful for the sheer curtains that allowed the moonlight to spill into the room. 

You felt another shiver run through your body when you shifted, realizing you were cold even under the sheets. You tried warming up on your own by shimmying the blanket around more comfortably, but it didn't do much. 

You were left lying on the bed trying to think warm thoughts, unintentionally breathing in the constant scent of Taehyung from his bed; his cologne, his aftershave, his body wash all filling your nostrils.

It was intoxicating, absolutely distracting and sleep began to slip your mind. It didn’t help that you were still cold too, moving around and turning onto your side where you now faced Taehyung. 

He seemed to have already dozed off, face tranquil as he slept soundlessly on his back. You couldn't help but admire his side-profile, the sparse moonlight illuminating his features. It was hard to not stretch your hand out and nearly run a touch along his cheek, like he was a rare work of art that naturally called for admiration.

You realized turning towards him that he radiated a wave of warmth from his body, remembering boys were pretty much furnaces while girls usually froze.

How wonderful it is to be a woman. 

You desired some of that heat and shuffled just a little closer to Taehyung, nearing the center of the bed. You discerned he was indeed warm and maneuvered slightly closer, just about stopping at the center of the bed. You fought back the urge to shimmy any closer, leaving a mindful gap between you two. 

You were seconds from catching a peace of mind until Taehyung unexpectedly spoke in the silence of the night, startling you. 

“You can come closer, I don’t bite.” The smirk in his voice was obvious, making you scrunch your nose and snap back at him. 

“Shut up, I’m not getting closer to you.” 

“You should, I’m really warm, and I can tell you’re cold.” There he was again teasing, his tone coy as he kept his eyes shut, unbothered. 

“Over my dead body.” You mocked him from earlier, turning away from him abruptly and pulling the covers over your head. 

Coffee was probably your favourite thing life had to offer. One of the couple things you’d fight someone over; coffee and your independence, if you wanted to be specific. 

So it made you genuinely happy Taehyung had such a wide selection of coffee to choose from, ranging from all kinds of beans to instant coffee, cappuccinos, lattes, mochas, you name it. It took no time for you to craft a cup to your liking, shuffle into a seat on the island and begin picking at the breakfast the housekeepers had whipped up earlier this morning. 

You’d woken up early today keeping in mind the day you had planned. You decided this to be another move-in day as part of your studio setup project you’ve entertained for the last week. The granted time off due to your odd honeymoon farce with Taehyung proved to actually come in handy, thankfully. 

It had been another peaceful morning for you, having woken up with sunlight gracing the walls, certain you could hear birds chirping as if you were in a Disney film and little mice would come out to start sewing the gown you’d wear as a princess. 

It had been a peaceful morning indeed, but when you stretched out to loosen your stiff muscles, the chaos that met you was anything but peaceful. Even if it’s occurred at least 5 times now, you kept forgetting that you shared a bed with someone else now, and that said someone had somehow always founds a way to gravitate towards you during the night, even daringly cast an arm over you sometimes. 

It left you in a state of panic registering that Taehyung’s, dare you say warm and cozy body would be just behind you, his chest mere centimeters from your back. You would stay still for some time, calculating the optimal way to remove yourself from his hold until he eventually stirred enough to loosen his grip, darting right out of bed. 

Other times, he’d wake earlier than you and you wondered what would cross his mind once he registered your oddly proximal bodies. 

Did it ever bother him?

Nonetheless, it brought a mischievous smile to your face thinking about the fact that Taehyung had such a perfectly human habit like cuddling. He was always so serious, so put together and a near machine at everything he did, seeming as though he wouldn’t give anything romantic the time of day. 

But it was hard to forget the fluffy feeling that blossomed in your chest when you would sense his proximity, maybe inviting a liking to it. You had always slept alone, only yourself and the darkness to keep you company in your lonely bed, in your lonely home. 

So sleeping next to someone, namely Kim Taehyung left an impression on you you couldn’t quite shake. It was difficult to erase the image of his calm, sleeping face after the handful of times witnessing it. Long eyelashes delicately pressed to the skin under his eyes, lips plush as he seemed to naturally pout in his sleep. The sunlight only accentuated his honey-coloured skin, adding a glow to his features that made him appear prettier than he already was. 

It was nice to think you’d wake up to that every morning. 

You found your mind still playing around with the idea until you snapped yourself out of it, questioning why the hell you always ventured off whenever you thought about him. 

Weird. 

You were scolding yourself until your eyes caught Taehyung strolling into the kitchen with his phone in is hand. He’d foregone a jacket today, black shirt sleeves folded to mid-forearm paired with black slacks.  

You were normal until you almost spat your coffee seeing he wasn’t wearing a tie but instead had the first few buttons of his shirt open, revealing a generous view of his neck and the beginnings of his chest. 

Fucking hell.

You were staring stupidly until Taehyung peeked up at you, smiling “Morning.” 

“M-morning.” you stuttered.

He seemed unsuspecting as he returned his attention to his phone, proceeding to the kitchen counter and retrieving a cup to fix himself a drink. He appeared to be reading something conscientiously on his device, never taking his eyes off and you quickly became bored, ready to use the weapon you’d acquired. 

“So.. you’re a cuddler, huh?”

Taehyung nearly dropped his cup.  

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“You’re a cuddler when you sleep. Cute.” You rested your chin in your palm, playful smile on your face. 

“I think you’re mistaken, I am not a cuddler. And I’m not cute.” Taehyung denied as he only focused on the cup, his back to you. You then watched him reach for his selection of tea and purposefully evade the coffee, your eyes lighting up with mischief.  

“Wait, you’re a cuddler and you drink tea instead of coffee? Very cute.” You pulled on his leg, chuckling as you brought your mug to your lips

This was going to be fun.

“Shut up, I don’t like the taste and tea is healthier.” Taehyung practically sneered back, harshly ripping the packet of his tea bag.

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a cuddler.” You sipped on your coffee, unbothered as you swung your legs back and fourth. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you like it.” 

You nearly spat your drink. 

“What?” 

“I remember a certain someone that shuffles closer to me for warmth, no?” Taehyung snapped back as he returned to his phone and popped his tea into the microwave, his shoulders high to the sky. You could imagine his smug face proud of his remark while searching for your own, realizing that Taehyung was damn good at arguing and you’d really have to upgrade your comeback game to counter him. 

He was unfortunately your match.

“Even if I were one, which I’m not, It’s not like I’m committing a crime.” Taehyung suddenly finalized with a snippy tone, and you realized you may have hurt his ego. 

Men. 

“I never said it was a bad thing.” You commented under your breath and looked away, popping a raspberry into your mouth. 

Taehyung bit back a smirk as he retrieved his cup of tea, taking a sip as he returned to his phone and took a seat across from you. He began compiling his plate of breakfast as he worked his device, typing away with one hand as if he was drafting the Magna Carta. 

You became bored again.

“Why do you have so much coffee if you don’t like it?” You genuinely felt like inquiring, if he didn’t like the taste why would he have so much? 

“For my housekeepers, they drink it.” He took a sip of his tea, all attention on his phone. 

You nodded understandingly. “Why do you have two housekeepers, by the way? Isn’t one enough?” 

“So they can keep each other company.” He answered absentmindedly, eyes still glued to his phone as he bit a piece of his toast. You really hated that he wasn’t actively interacting with you because it only left room to stare at him, and that was never any good.  

He looked illegally attractive with the unbuttoned part of his shirt, your mind profusely bugging out over the exposed bit of his chest. You were reminded of the full view from last night, and began pondering how long you’d survive having to see that for the rest of your life. 

“O-oh, that’s nice.” You stuttered back a reply, squashing your previous thought.

You were actually quite impressed by the kindness Taehyung showed behind that decision, noticing he had these small moments where he was caring, considerate, all hidden behind his unreadable face and seriousness when it came to business. 

It was quite interesting. 

You were mindlessly eating until Taehyung spoke up, eyes flickering towards you. “What are you going to do today?” 

You swallowed your fruit. “I was planning on moving more stuff in again, start finishing my studio setup. Thank you again for the room, by the way.” You expressed your gratitude once more, forking some eggs into your mouth. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

“What are you doing today?” you echoed his question, taking another swig of coffee.

“I’m working again. If you need anything I’ll be in my study.” Taehyung sent you a half-smile before snatching up his plate, bringing his phone to his ear as he stepped out of the kitchen. 

You sighed heavily only being left to think about your day, which would be majorly spent unpacking and arranging things. You had a plethora of art supplies, design tools and canvases to set up in your studio, leaving you constantly thinking of how to even begin. 

It would be a mission alone to sort through everything you had left, knowing you didn’t exactly label out of sheer laziness and would have to individually unbox and organize everything . 

It was this exact task that took up most of your day, time having slipped by in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t easy when you had to be rummaging through your belongings and situating them where you thought appropriate, also trying to envision a new look for your studio. 

You hadn’t realized 3 hours had passed until the ring of the front doorbell caused you to check your phone, curious as to who would be visiting your home in the middle of the day. You assumed it be one of the housekeepers and abandoned your work, cascading down the staircase and striding towards the grand entrance. 

You drew towards the monitor Taehyung had showed you just yesterday, explaining it to be your home security system. Taehyung detailed it had a camera for your front porch that detected movement and the doorbell alike, so you peered at the monitor to see the stranger outside your home. 

Your eyebrows furrowed registering a woman, her back turned towards the door as she fidgeted nervously with her purse in her hand. 

Sheer curiosity took you over and you paddled towards the door, unlocking it. You wore a smile on your face as you swung the door open, though it was immediately wiped off taking in the last person on earth you ever wanted to see. 

“Mother?”

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tags : @thedarkwinterrose @ayujaded @couldbeyourlast @ladyarmanto @anpanman-sonyeondan @apollukee @blueevelvt @taesluttt @scalubera​ @laurynne5​ @dreamsindreamss​ @thequeen-kat​ @awsome-small-k​ @wrecklesssly​ @kweenhu​ @jalexad​ @staerify​ @bangforever​ @dyriddle​ @aianloveseven​ @waves-and-woods​ @hoefortaeshands​ @veronawrites​ @nightapple4jk​ @wataemelonz​ @aomi-nabi​

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #thetruthuntoldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung arranged marriage au #kim taehyung

[milkytheholy1]

Hey wonder what the ROTTMNT turtles would react when they're being scratched by the reader.

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. AL masterlist

HC 25: Shell scratches

Raph: ❤️

Was very hesitant to let you scratch his shell considering how spikey and sharp it is.

Poor boy didn't want to hurt you accidentally.

Yet you kept asking him and wearing him down, so he eventually let you do it but only if you wear oven mitts.

You argued about it at first, saying you wanted to feel his shell beneath your fingers, but Raph wouldn't give in.

So there you were, sat next to his side, an oven mitt on one hand.

Your fingers, to the best of your ability, glided along his shell like magic.

Raph released a calming sigh and fell asleep with the gentle patterns you were drawing onto him.

When he was unconscious to the world, you took off the glove and hummed at the ragged shell beneath the tips of your fingers.

Leo: 💙

Was a little nervous at first, I mean, c'mon on... touching his shell? A little intimate if you ask me.

He wanted you to do it in the privacy of his room, although you doubt a curtain could hold much privacy at all.

The way he was making it out was like you were planning to rob a bank or something.

You both sat on his bed, you buzzing, Leo slightly pale but smiling nonetheless.

"You ready?"

"O-of course, I wouldn't I be? Don't I look ready to you?"

Suuureee, if ready meant sweating buckets.

"Leo, I'm just scratching your shell. If you don't want me to do it, then we don't have to."

"No, no, I can handle it. I'm a brave boy."

The moment your nails dragged along his shell, Leo practically melted into the bed.

Donnie: 💜

Donnie wasn't one for touchy stuff, so when you asked if you could scratch his shell it was more of a challenge than you thought.

After countlessly asking him politely, you devised a plan to get him when he was distracted and go from there; no matter the consequence.

Donnie had been working in his lab as of late, on what? Who knows, but what you did know was that he was completely enthralled by the little dohickey on his desk.

Sneaking up behind him, lucky he had detached his battleshell earlier that day, you dragged the tips of your fingers down the centre of his spine.

Feeling the bumps in the bone.

Donnie shrieked like a baby when you first made contact, ready to run his mouth but nothing came out but a sigh.

Doesn't admit he likes it but won't stop you from doing it again.

Mikey: 🧡

Mikey will be the only one out of his four brothers who encourage you to give him back scratches.

Splinter used to do it when he was younger and had nightmares, but now...not so much.

So when you offered one day he was over the moon, rushing around you like a headless chicken.

He had laid out a small fort in the projector room, the floor covered in pillows and blankets.

You saw him lay on his belly, face stuffed into the pillow under his chin.

"Comfy?" you asked, amused.

Mikey nodded rapidly, pointing his fingers to his shell.

You caught on pretty quickly and began to scratch his back haphazardly.

Mikey had the biggest smile on his face, you knew when you hit a good spot cause he'd sigh constantly.

Definitely begs you to give him shell scratches.

#tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rise of the tmnt #rise of the turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt requests #request #requests are closed #fluff #headcanon #fandom #fanfic #writing #fanfiction