#i think it looks better when its more brown-ish

[lexix001]

Mine

Tyler Galphin x reader

"Come on half of the earth population have tiktok!" Enid groan. "12.9%" I remark. "What?" Enid said. "If 4 billions people have tiktok that would be absurd" I chuckled and flip to the next page. "Did you.. count that all in your mind.." Enid asked. I didn't bother to reply her question.

"Can I get you ladies your order?" A guy with curly brown hair asked. Do you have crossaint? I will have two of those and milk coffee what about you Enid?" I asked the sunshine. "Oh I'm not planning to stay here long" she said. I gasp "but you said you will accompany me"

"I did if you agree downloading tiktok so I can show you how it work but no..So yeah bye y/n!" She waved and walk off. "I can't believed you!" I yelled. "I CAN'T BELIEVED YOU EITHER" she shouted back and leave. I sigh "soo two crossaint and milk coffee?" The waiter mumble. I glare to him. "Make it black" I demand. "Got it" he said and leave. I continue to read my book and try to relax now that I look like alone freak.

"Here is your black coffee and two crossaint" the same waiter place down my order. I was expecting for him to go back to the counter but instead he sat down infront of me. I look at him curiously. "Oh I thought you might need some company" he explain. I raise and eyebrow "that is the nicest thing that people did for me" I confessed. And place down my book, he smile "my name is Tyler Galphin" my eyebrow raise again but in interest "youre the sheriff son" I said. "I prefer to called Tyler, than sheriff son" he joked.

"Yes, my apologies I'm y/n" I introduce. "Do you lived around here?" Tyler asked. "Im a nevermore student actually" I correct. "That explain everything" He chuckled. A new customer enter the cafe catching his attention. "I will take his order and be right back" he smile.

While he take the guy order I look outside the window seeing xavier with my sister wednesday. They walk away from my eye sight. I wonder what are they status. Even though wednesday would rather die alone. "I'm back" Tyler voice startled me. I eat my crossaint and drink my coffee. The bitterness was fittable when you are angry its like what am I feeling in the moment but Tyler made it better. Is that weird?

Me and Tyler talk more about ourself and yes I would love to talk with him ever again. "Its nice meeting you but its almost 10 I have to go back to the academy" I say packing my books. "But we still have more time-" Tyler plead. "Im sorry, I promise I will visit you" I sigh and pay for my food. And walk to the door. "Do you want a ride at least?" "And you leaving your work? No thanks"

Tyler POV

No, I want to talk to her again. I need to talk to her. I grab a paper and a pencil quickly write me phone number and chase her. I saw lining up to take the bus. I yelled her name. She look at me with her angry ish eye. "Tyler?"

"I want you to have this" I give out the paper. "Its my number"

"do you expect me to call you?"

"Do you expect me to say no?"

"I'll think of it" she chuckled and hop into the bus and shyly waved to me. I smile and wave back. She is mine. I will make sure of it.

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #enid sinclair #ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #yandere tyler galphin

[wannab-urs]

You Have Me In a Chokehold | Mr. Ben (SNL) x teacher!reader | 18+

Summary: You’re a teacher at Mr. Ben’s school and you’re sitting in the “No More Fancams” assembly freaking out because he just showed your fancam on screen… Do you think he knows it was you? (AU where he’s not in love with Ms. Jenny, the assembly just ends with him being like “please don’t do this anymore, thanks”)

WC: 2.4k

Warnings: MDNI | 18+ | SMUT | no ages implied (all legal obvi), hair pulling, sir kink, very mild degrading language, fingering, unprotected PiV (don’t be silly, wrap your willy) (also y’all are teachers, you should know better), rough-ish sex but no one gets hurt, Mr. Ben is girthy (Big Ben ;) ), brief mention of the picture of dorian gray, which deserves its own warning if you’ve ever tried to teach that book to teenagers, extreme cringe in the first half. Gets weirdly fluffy at the end so if that kills your vibe just stop reading after the uhhhh climax of the story (if you catch my drift). Sorry we support aftercare in this house. I think that’s it, love y’all, enjoy! 

It’s 8 in the morning, supposed to be first period, and the principal has called for some technology assembly. You’re unlucky enough to have first period planning, you have essays to grade, and you won’t have a spare minute for the rest of the day. But sure, let’s all go sit in the gym so the boomers can lecture the zoomers about technology use. This is a great use of everyone’s time. 

You slip into the auditorium with 5 minutes to spare, hoping to go unnoticed in the back row. You’re just about to subtly put in your airpods and watch TikToks like 90% of the students, when you hear the principal introduce Mr. Ben. This assembly suddenly became worth paying attention to. 

Ben is by far the prettiest thing to look at in this school. He’s ridiculously broad chested, always wearing these just-shy-of-too-tight button ups that he pairs with definitely-a-little-too-tight pants, accentuating his cute butt. He has toned forearms, usually peeking out of rolled up sleeves, and huge hands that he waves around in the air or clasps in front of him when he speaks. And then, despite being this big, broad, powerful looking man, he has the sweetest face. 

His eyes are soft brown, hooded and turned down a little, so he’s basically making puppy dog eyes constantly. His nose is prominent and curved and sitting above the most adorably pouty lips. His facial hair is sparse and a little patchy, but honestly it just makes him even more charming. God, you have it so bad for this man. 

Your internal drooling over Ben is interrupted by the sound of a freshman at the front of the room yelling, “Come on guuurrrrl, eat it up!” Your eyes flick to the screen beside Ben. There are two very vague tech rules followed by… Shit. 

“Do not make fancams of school staff, such as this,” says Ben, gesturing at the screen. And your stomach does a somersalt. Shit! There’s a TikTok playing on the screen, and though you can’t quite make out the username, you definitely recognize the video. That’s your fancam. And Ben looks… mortified. He looks extremely uncomfortable. 

“You have made thousands of fancams of me and i’m not sure what they mean, but I know it has to stop,” he pleads. And fuck is he looking at you? He can’t know can he? There’s absolutely no way he knows. He’s just looking out toward the back of the auditorium. Yeah. You wouldn’t want to make eye contact with a bunch of 14 years olds while pictures of you flash on the screen either. That makes perfect sense. 

“We make them because you’re our beloved and you have us a in a chokehold,” screams another student toward the front. You wish he would put you in a chokehold. GOD what is wrong with you. Pull yourself together.

“Okay, don’t say that,” Ben says, wringing his hands together in front of him. You can see that he’s clearly uncomfortable. You should delete your account. Ban him from your thoughts. You’ve crossed the line big time.

“I just don’t understand. Why do you make sparkly fast romantic montages of me every single day?” he asks. Another fancam, thankfully not yours, begins playing on the screen. You have to get out of here. 

You stand up and try to sneak out as inconspicuously as possible, whispering “Bathroom,” in response to a disapproving look from another, older teacher. 

You break into a run as soon as you get into the hall and only slow down when you’re safely locked in the handicap stall of the teacher bathroom. You slide down the wall to the floor and press your face into your hands. You are so stupid. Of course making fancams of school staff is a bad idea. It’s bad when the kids do it… and really weird because they’re kids… but when another teacher does it? He could have you fired for this. 

But he doesn’t know. There’s no way he knows. 

You manage to make it through the rest of the day, somehow facing your classes and teaching them about nouns and reading a bit more of The Picture of Dorian Gray aloud. 

It’s finally the end of the day, but you still have those essays to grade, so you decide to set a timer for one hour and power through as many as you can. The school is so weirdly silent this long after final bell. The custodians won’t be in for another couple hours and pretty much every teacher and student has long gone home. 

You finish packing your tote bag and start shrugging on your coat when you hear a knock at the door. “Come in!” 

You freeze when the door opens. Shit.

“Ben! Hi! How can I help you? I was just leaving, but-” the sharp sound of the door slamming shut cuts off your nervous rambling. Ben stands with his hands behind his back, puffing his very broad chest out. 

“I was wondering if you could tell me something, sweetheart.” His voice is low, gravelly, and you feel like you’re being raked over hot coals. He knows. 

“Um. Sure?” you squeak out. Your face is on fire and you have no idea what to do with your hands. He takes a step toward you, looking for all the world like a predator stalking it’s pray. His eyes are dark, brow lowered, lips set in a hard line. He looks nothing like the shy, uncomfortable man from the assembly. 

Your bag drops to the floor and you take a stuttering step back toward your desk. 

“What’s your TikTok username?” he asks slowly, taking another step toward you. 

You gulp and fall back another step, thighs pressing against your desk now. Your shake your head and glue your eyes to the floor. 

“Don’t make me ask again.” And oh god he’s right in front of you now. He hooks a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes up to meet his. His pupils are blown so wide, you can barely see his usually warm brown irises. Wait is he turned on right now? 

“It’s- uh… I don’t have one!” you stammer out. You try to look away, but his fingers hold your chin in place. He leans a bit closer, his breath ghosting over your face, and presses his other palm into the desk beside you. He tsks and presses his thumb to your bottom lip.

“Don’t lie to me,” he growls out, and oh that went straight to your core. You squirm in his hold and that’s when you truly realize how close he is. His body is nearly pressed against yours. 

“It’s- it’s… fuck. It’s MrBensLittleSlut…” you stammer out. You feel like you’re on fire, ashamed of your actions, but also incredibly fucking turned on. The object of your not-so-innocent crush has you pressed against your desk like some school girl fantasy. 

“And do you really want to be my little slut, sweetheart?” Holy. Shit. Did he really just ask you that? Your heart actually stops beating in your chest for a second. You nod. 

“Aloud, please.” 

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. 

He brings one hand to the back of your head and wraps your hair around his fingers, pulling your head back slightly. You whimper and he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. 

“Good girl,” he purrs. And you think you’ll melt into puddle on the spot. His hands slide to your hips and he lifts you up onto the edge of the desk. You instinctively part your legs and he presses himself flush against you. He keeps one hand on your waist to steady you and slides the other back up into your hair and suddenly his lips are on yours. 

It’s sloppy and open mouthed and greedy. He licks into your mouth, curling his tongue around yours. Your hands find purchase around his biceps and you hold on for dear life. His fist tightens in your hair and you moan wantonly, throwing your head back and pushing your hips up into his, chasing friction. 

His lips trail down your jaw and he nips at your earlobe before sucking a kiss to the spot where your jaw meets your throat. You dig your nails into his muscular arms and choke on a gasp. 

“Please,” you whine, shifting your hips against him again.

“Please what, sweetheart?” you can feel him smirking into the skin of your throat. He loves how riled up you are. Loves watching you try and fail to grind yourself on him. 

“Please- please touch me, sir,” he rolls his hips into yours, finally giving you something. Anything to ease the burning desire between your legs.

“You’re so pretty when you beg,” he growls in your ear. Then you feel his right hand leave your waist and pull up your skirt. He drags his fingertips up the inside of your left thigh, featherlight. Finally, he hooks two fingers into the soaked crotch of your panties and drags his knuckles across your clit. 

You suck in a gasp and a little “Oh” falls from your lips. He pulls back, keeping his left hand in your hair and watches as he slowly sinks two fingers into your cunt, down to the knuckle. Your hands ball up into fists, twisting the sleeves of his shirt and you let out a long, breathy moan. 

“You’re so wet for me already, sweetheart. Really are a little slut, aren’t you?” Your pussy clenches around his thick fingers at his words.

“Yes! Yes, I’m your little slut!” you gasp out.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, hooking them just right so that he hits the spongy spot inside you every time. You’re holding onto his shirt so tight you think you might rip the sleeves off. You can hear how wet you are, the sound echoing off the cinderblock walls. You start moving your hips to meet the thrust of his fingers inside you, chasing your orgasm. 

“I’m-- I’m gonna--” you clench hard around his fingers, so close to tipping over the edge.

And then his touch is gone. He’s pulled his fingers out of you and let go of you completely, taking a step back. You let out an actual scream of frustration. “No!” you shout, slumping back until your head hits your desk. You actually pout at him.

“Not yet, sweetheart. Want you to come on my cock.” His voice is so low, you almost can’t hear him over the sound of your heaving breaths. “Sit up, pretty girl.”

You push yourself back up and take in his appearance. Other than his rumpled shirt, he looks completely unbothered. His hair is still effortlessly tousled, his face is set into a teasing smirk. The fucker didn’t even break a sweat and you’re gasping for breath like a fish out of water. Pretty girl. He called you pretty.

“Bend over the desk, sweetheart.” 

You scramble to obey his request, standing up and bending over, pushing your ass into the air. You press your forehead into the desk and try to calm your fluttering heart rate. 

Suddenly… finally… you feel his hands on you. He grabs your skirt and bunches it up around your waist. His fingertips slide into the waistband of your panties and he pushes them down, letting them settle around your ankles. You hear the clink of a belt buckle, the tug of a zipper, and then you feel him. 

He slides his cock between your clenched thighs, through the wet folds of your pussy and oh god. You can’t see him, but you can feel that he’s thick. The head of his cock presses against your clit and you moan. 

“Such a pretty little pussy… I’m going to ruin it.” You gasp, but before you can respond, he’s moving. In one fluid motion, he pulls back, kicks your feet apart, and pushes all the way into you. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan out. You might pass out from pleasure. His cock is thick, filling you up and stretching you out more than you ever have been before. He holds still inside you while you clench and unclench around his girth, trying to get used to it. “So big.” you gasp into the desk. 

“I know, baby.” And then he moves, pulling all the way out to the tip and thrusting hard, all the way back in. The force of his hips smacking against your ass jolts you into the desk, making you cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain and sprawl forward on the desk. 

Ben grabs your shoulder with one hand, tightens his grip on your hip with the other, and resumes fucking into you at an absolutely brutal pace. 

Some part of you is scared you’ll get caught, but that part is overpowered by the euphoria you feel. You’re moaning and babbling incoherently as his cock hits that sweet spot deep inside you and grinds into it with every thrust. 

“Is my. Little. Slut. Gonna. Come. on my. Cock?” Ben grits out between thrusts. 

You cry out a garbled response. Your cunt is fluttering around his thick length and your eyes are rolling into the back of your head and there’s no way you can form words right now. 

Ben wraps his arm around your chest and pulls you back against him. His cock hits something deep inside you and you come with an agonizing cry, gushing around his cock and soaking him to the base. 

Your whole body goes limp with the force of your orgasm, but he holds you up and continues fucking up into you. After a few more thrusts, he pulls out and covers your ass and thighs in his release, letting out a low groan as the thick ropes hit your skin. 

You’re lying on the desk on your stomach, naked ass still in the air. It’s a ridiculous position to lay in, but you’re still riding the high of your orgasm and too blissed out to care. You jolt as you feel silk move across your over-sensitive skin. 

“What’re you doing?” You’re so drunk on his cock, it comes out slurred.

“Cleaning you up, sweetheart,” Ben says. Is he- he’s cleaning you up with his tie. Fuck that’s hot. And sweet? 

“Thank you…” you sigh into the desk. He pulls your panties back up for you and settles your skirt back down around your legs.

“Can you sit up for me, baby?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to your feet, nestling your head into the curve of his shoulder.

It’s not fair for him to fuck you that good and go right to being the sweet, bashful man you thought you knew. 

He brushes your hair out of your face and presses a soft, almost tender, kiss to your nose. You giggle and the sound makes him break out into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his dimple peeking out behind a 5 o’clock shadow. 

“Come on, sweetheart, I’ll walk you to your car.” 

He grabs your coat and your tote bag, slips his hand into yours, and leads you out to the parking lot.

a/n: I’m so sorry. This is ridiculous and I apologize for the no plot snl character porn fic. 

Tags: @beskarandblasters @meveispunk

#Mr. Ben #mr. ben x reader #Mr. Ben snl #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro fics

[koorminii]

gold rush | bangchan (m)

“I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch, everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you.” Or, a lot of people love chan but he only loves you. He just wishes you could see that.

⇝ pairing: bangchan x f!reader ⇝ rating: 18+ (for the most part it’s pretty pg) ⇝ genre: childhood friends to lovers | angst | fluff | smut ⇝ word count: 10.6k :o ⇝ warnings: lots of pining, based off of gold rush by taylor swiftie, attempt to use metaphors, kinda angsty, also fluffy, chan is rlly popular, minor character death (not mentioned in detail), misunderstandings kinda? but they’re bearable, chan halfway confesses like three times, but you just don’t want to get your hopes up :(, changbin is kinda mean, self indulgent!!, romantic-ish smut (I tried), the smut is skippable it’s like a bonus part <3, blow jobs, pussy eating, kissing, unprotected sex (we know better), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, lovey dovey stuff, time jump, lmk if i’m missing anything

a/n: hi angels, <3 this is now my longest fic… I listened to evermore on wednesday and gold rush and tolerate it filled me with the most insane inspiration ever, so despite my four current wips i whipped this up and posted it in a day so if it shows… i’m so so sorry </3 I could’ve made this way better so let’s pretend I couldn’t have! I hope you like it! It’s way longer than I planned considering it was only supposed to be like 2k. I also added smut which I hadn’t planned on but I made it as soft as possible just to fit the overall vibe I was going for. I wrote this in like ??? 8 hours maybe?? and most of all this shit is self indulgent as fuck like… i’m so !???? i love chan

playlist: gold rush by taylor swift, tolerate it by taylor swift, sad beautiful tragic by taylor swift, she by harry styles (idk anywhere near enough good romantic songs to make a playlist and this is all i listened to as i wrote so… yea idk what’s up with me)

mlist | taglist | navi

When did you fall in love?

You think you could most likely tie it back to when Chan first came to town, brown curly hair falling over his eyes, a fuzzy orange sports headband on his head, and a permanent blush on his cheeks. Or, perhaps it was when he’d introduced himself to you, blond hair curling behind his ears as he stared you down, looking less youthful yet even more handsome. Or, maybe it was when he sat next to you in your freshman year of university, spreading his books along his desk, badgering you for one of your shiny pencils, and winking at you when class began.

Maybe it was after all of this. Maybe you still aren’t really in love, but the way your heart beats when he’s around, when he smooths his hands over your shoulders and tucks his head under your chin, makes you think that maybe you are.

It doesn’t matter though– and it never will. Everybody wants him. All you are is another face in the crowd, a friend to talk to when things get tough. You’re someone with whom his shoulder’s brush as he walks past– not someone who gets to feel the wonder of his embrace. The feel of his lips against your skin, the sweet words saved for his lover. That’s never been you.

The sun beams down on you, its rays glittering over the wooden benches of the park, reflecting off of streetlights and seeping in through the cracks of windows and doors. Your feet move leisurely along the street, and in your hand you cradle a warm latte. It’s the middle of September and occasionally sharp gusts of wind leave an air of frigidness over your skin. Your lashes flutter under the breeze, and despite the cold you’re content to saunter along campus. It’s still warm enough for you to leave your hands exposed without them falling victim to the biting chill of autumn, and it’s exactly what you need to distract your mind.

Each step you take allows the thoughts that have been plaguing you to fall away one by one until they are no more. You’re free to ignore them until you have to see Chan again in all his boyish charm and utter cluelessness. Your eyes shut momentarily as the image of him comes to the forefront of your mind, each crinkle in his eye as he smiles, his dimple, his laugh. It brings a familiar ache to your heart. One that can’t fall away with your steps nor with the frigid air. It is one that never leaves you no matter how much you beg or how much you wish. It's become a part of you, and of that you’re sure of.

What you’re not sure of is how to feel about all that your life has become. When you were younger you were no stranger to love– to watching the way your parents interacted as if their life was a simple romance film. You had never lived a loveless life, whether through platonic love or familial, you had felt it all your life. It was normal.

When you were younger you never thought you’d have the same type of love that your parents had. You’d witnessed all forms of love– the best kinds and the worst kinds– and didn’t think you’d get the chance to experience either one. You’d been on the receiving end of many emotions, the good and the bad, though your attraction to others since you knew what attraction was had always been shallow. A simple crush that made your heart flutter, but nothing that made you want to dance to an imaginary song in the dim glow of the kitchen at night. Nothing that made you think waking up to them everyday would be a blessing, and losing them would be a tragedy. For you, it was just like it was for everyone else. Nothing special like the love you’d always laid witness to. Nothing like the love people on your television would cry and cheer about, completely and irrevocably in love with whom they considered their other half.

When you were younger, you envied your parents. As wrong as it had always seemed, as horribly shallow as it had felt, their love constructed a jealousy in you, an insecurity, a flaw. For something you had been exposed to since being a mere infant, why was it so hard for you to feel? All you wanted back then was the love that made people stupidly happy. The feeling that made a comfortable ache form in their chests and an irreversible smile form on their cheeks.

Now, you think that you simply don’t deserve that love. You feel it, you understand it, yet it doesn’t feel as good as it should. It doesn't feel like theirs.

You’ve tried to reverse it, to become the shallow young girl you once were, but the ache in your chest remains through it all, and the complete devotion you feel towards your best friend is just agony every day it isn’t returned.

You’ve arrived at your dorm room, the grandiose building imposing as it towers over you, yet bringing with it a sense of comfort. You don’t miss out on any chance to revel in that feeling– constantly feeling as if a rug has been pulled from under you in every waking moment of the day. It’s tiring, and at any moment you feel like you’re ready to crumble under the weight of it all. Was love supposed to be so agonizing? So terribly heartbreaking? Was it right to tear you down this way?

Your keys jingle on the loop, and your Mary Janes click with every step along the lacquered wooden floors, the entire building spotless in its entirety and poshness oozing uncomfortably from its walls. Though with every step you took you became more and more at ease just happy that you’d be able to crash in your bed and pity yourself for the next few hours.

That was all your life consisted of now, after all.

You jogged up the stairs, your legs burning with effort and your movements restrained from your long pencil skirt. A blazer was buttoned deftly over your chest and black tights made it so that barely any skin was exposed. Not that it mattered, anyway. You’re a grown woman free to do whatever you please, and if that includes getting sick in the late autumn weather then so be it.

Upon arrival at your dorm room your shoulders sagged in visible relief. The door couldn’t unlock quick enough as you shuffled your way inside, dropping your purse to the side and setting your empty coffee cup on the kitchen island. You knocked your head back, looking up at the ceiling through bleary eyes and a tired frown. Your feet ached in your shoes and you wanted to spread your legs wide without feeling like you were wearing an exercise band.

You plopped down on your couch, unstrapping and kicking off your confining shoes and curling your feet into the couch. You relaxed into the chair, letting the misery and affliction of the day seep into the fabric. Your eyes closed of their own accord, and a content sigh left your lips in bliss. This was your comfort after a long day. Sitting alone to your own thoughts— or rather with no thoughts, allowing the silence to envelop you and comfort you with an imaginary hand on your back. It was this that made every day worth working through— the knowledge that you’d be able to curl up at the end of the day and relax your muscles just to do it all over again the next day.

Ever since you were a child being alone was a comfort you always sought out. Being left to your own devices was the best thing your parents could have ever done for you, and it was when you were able to fully relax. Reading, writing, drawing— the silence of your bedroom was a safe haven for your turbulent mind. Always running, never stopping to give you a break or catch your breath. Your thoughts ran rampant ever since you could remember, tormenting you and making your life an aching bout of anxiety. Silence was something that should’ve made it worse, but it was when you could fall into your daydreams and pretend your life wasn’t your own.

Sleep pulls you under, insistent as it forces your eyelids down.

Chan has always been a stranger to love, and that’s why he’s always done his best to give as much as he could. Since he was a young boy he had never known his father, had never known what it was like to play in the backyard with him or watch basketball games. He never knew what it would be like to hang out with his own dad, sharing secret handshakes and joking around with his mom. He didn’t know what it would be like to feel fatherly love, to feel the embrace of who should’ve been one of the most important people in his life.

Since he was a young boy it’s just been him and his mother, in their downtrodden family home, barely standing no matter how hard his mother worked to support them both. His mother had shared as much love as she could, fighting through the bitterness Chan’s father had left her with and pushing herself harder to provide for them both without any help. She had tried her hardest since Chan was a child until he was a senior in high school, constantly making sure he was provided for and well taken care of. This love should’ve been enough, but for a long time it wasn’t.

Chan had never known what it was like to love someone completely and irrevocably, wanting to shout from the rooftops his devotion to another. He had never seen his parents love each other, had never met either of his grandparents, and had no aunts or uncles or cousins in his life or who cared about him enough to even pretend they wanted something to do with him. In elementary school he was ridiculed, fatherless and pitiful. He didn’t live in a house as nice as the other kids, he didn’t have a complete and happy family like the other kids, or the same amount of money, or the same amount of privilege. To them, he was nothing.

In middle school it was much worse. By that time Chan had been no stranger to bullying. He had struggled through it during elementary school, had been tormented by his peers since before he was a teenager, and didn’t let the words affect him no matter how much harsher they became. To him, his oppressors were the pitiful ones. They were the ones who had not experienced enough love, and no matter how much he lacked he would always hold enough love in his heart for others— so that they didn’t have to feel as worthless as he did.

Chan knew from early how hard-working his mother had been. He knew she tried her best, that she worked herself to the bone just to make him happy. How much she wanted her love to be enough— and maybe it would’ve been had he not had to experience all that he did. He knew, and that’s why he had never voiced his feelings to her at all throughout elementary school and middle school, and why by the time high school came around he was an expert at masking the pain in his heart with a smile on his face.

When Chan’s mother told him they were moving it felt like a weight had been lifted. Leaving all the pain of his past felt like the beginning he needed, the start he wanted to finally be happy. To finally let his mother’s love be enough.

By the time Chan turned seventeen, his smile was the brightest it had ever been. He didn’t know how good it felt to be admired, to be held in high regard, to love and be loved back. It felt good. He never wanted to let that go, and if it was up to him he never would.

Before Chan made it to college his mother fell ill. Chan willed the love in his heart to be enough, hoped that his prayers and wishes would bring his mother back to him. That the love she had always given him would strengthen her and allow her to live as happily and carefree as she deserved. Chan had a plan, he would be the one to take care of her this time around. He was 18, had his own car and his own job. He was going to college to start his career so he could be there for her in return. So she could be taken care of like she deserved. He begged for his love to be enough, but sometimes it simply isn’t. And when the casket closed on the worst day of Chan’s life, he realized that to be true.

Chan rushes out the cafe, umbrella in hand, giggling to himself as he runs across campus— two coffee cups in hand as he goes. Bystanders watch him warily as he runs, wondering if he’ll drop one of the items he’s carrying or wondering if he’s alright, but Chan doesn’t notice and if he does, he doesn’t care enough to stop. His feet splash in puddles, carrying him to your dorm room as swiftly as possible. He’s careful not to slip on the wet pavement and tightens his grip on your drink to make sure it doesn’t spill.

The building is still the same imposing grandiose thing that it always has been, but to him it’s nothing but slabs of cement between piles of brick. He pays no mind to the water that drops down his umbrella over the once pristine wooden floor, simply running up the stairs and to your room. You should be awake by now, he decides, all too familiar with your daily naps after class and after work. His cap hangs low over his eyes so no one recognizes him as he shuffles through the halls.

He knocks rapidly on your door and only stops when he hears your groan through the drywall. His giggles float from his lips freely and unfiltered, and he’s filled with unadulterated joy just at the simple thought of seeing you. His heart thuds in his chest and he hopes he’s early enough to see your face puffy from sleep, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled as if he had finally gotten the chance to wake up next to you.

When the door opens he grins, dimple on full display as you sigh, grabbing a cup from his hands and moving to the side to let him in.

“How was your day?”

“Same as usual— hey!” You place the cup on the table next to your empty one from earlier and move his umbrella outside the door, sending him a glare as you shut it behind you. “Not on my floors,” you huff as he ruffles your hair in response.

“I missed you,” Chan hums, bringing his cup to his lips. “How was class?”

“I missed you too. Class was fine, just tiring Channie.”

A smile flits upon your lips as you cross your legs on the couch, turning towards your best friend’s form sprawled opposite you. “How was the interview?”

Chan smiles, rubbing at his neck in mock modesty. “It went great, honestly. They said they’d call me, tell me what the next steps are and all that shit.” He turns to you, smile blindingly bright. “Fuck, I’m so happy.”

The happiness on his face is palpable in the air between you as you lean forward and bring him into a hug. His cologne sticks to your skin and you bury your nose deeper into his jacket just to feel a little closer to him. “That’s great,” you beam, “If anyone could do it, it’s you.”

His arms encircle you and his lips brush against your cheek. His fuzzy sweater rubs along your bare skin, leaning a trail of warmth in its wake. Chan’s hands run up and down your back and he chuckles. “I know, I can always count on you.”

“Count on me?” you repeated, curling closer in Chan’s embrace as he grinned.

“To be there for me, to trust in me, to support me. You’re always there for me.”

“And you’ll be there for me too.”

“And I'll be here for you too,” Chan whispers, his voice much quieter than it had previously been. He noses into the top of your head, tickling his skin with your hair.

Your breath is silent to match the sudden silence in the room. Chan is still, his nose still pressed into your hair but his hand rests against your back and he leans into you, still holding his weight but allowing himself to relax a bit more in your embrace. You shuffle closer, digging your chin into his shoulder as lightly as possible so that it doesn’t hurt him, and squeeze at his sides.

You know how hard it is for him having lacked a stable support system in one of the most stressful times of his life, and you’re just glad you could be that for him. You allow his cologne to relax you as the silence becomes heavier, enveloping you in its embrace. You let yourself think about things you shouldn’t, allow yourself to wonder if you’d be able to leave a soft kiss against his skin. If he would leave a kiss against yours, trailing fingers across each other and whispering sweet words to one another, simply lounging in each other’s presence. You let yourself think about what would happen next. Would he hold you close? Pull you into his lap? Tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and lean in slowly to kiss you?

“I wish I could tell you what you are to me.”

Chan’s voice almost makes you jolt, so wrapped up in the previous silence that it takes you a moment to recognize he’s spoken. His words bring a frown to your face— one of confusion and one of false hope. You know that no matter how much you want to, you can’t wish for feelings. His hair is soft to the touch as you run your fingers through it, curling tendrils behind his ear and ghosting over his skin as if he was yours.

“I wish you could too.”

When did you fall in love?

Maybe it was when Chan would run his hands along your skin as if you belonged to him. Touching you with such a gentle caress that it was painful to your fragile heart, treating you with such tender care that it was almost unbearable. Yet like a drug you were addicted. To his attention, to his words, to his love. As platonic as it was, it still felt like something to treasure and hold close. It was all you could get and probably all you ever would. Or, perhaps it was when he would take your hand in his, dragging you to a new secret spot and setting up a picnic.

He’d lay out a large blanket, ground it with books and shoes, and then lay out all the food he cooked. Preserved in tupperware he’d make a show of having you try each one, watching with bated breath as you put a contemplative look on your face with every spoonful of food and only relaxing when you’d break character and assure him that his food was the best thing you’d ever tasted, and it was true. It was his and that’s what made it perfect to you.

Or, maybe it was when he’d come to your dorm room every night, right when you’d wake up from your nap, bringing a latte or a snack and lounging on your couch catching each other up on your days, on what’s been happening in the week, and later curling up and falling asleep to a movie. He’d grab ahold of your hand and thread your fingers together— never noticing the hitch in your breath but holding you close to him all the same.

He’d run a hand along your waist, let it slip under your shirt and ghost his fingers across your skin when you hugged. It was all earth-shattering, yet things that were so normal. You couldn’t allow yourself to think of it as anything more than it was.

“So I take it you’re never gonna confess.”

“Confess?” You question, bringing your croissant to your mouth and taking a bite.

Hyunjin sighs, bringing a hand to his hair in order to run through it. “Confess that you have feelings for Chan.” He grumbles, bringing his americano to his lips and looking at you through long eyelashes.

“Be serious, Hyunjin. Absolutely not.” You hiss, leaning forward against the table and settling him with a glare before returning to your croissant. “He practically has an entire entourage. The last person he wants is me when he can have literally anyone.”

“Y/n, are you an idiot? If you had even half the awareness the rest of us have you’d see the way he looks at you. The way he touches you? It’s practically like you two are dating already.”

“But we’re not.”

“But you could be.”

“Hyunjin—”

“I don’t get the big deal? I mean it’s just so obvious-”

“Hyunjin!? The big deal is that I could lose my best friend. It’s really not worth it.”

The eye roll Hyunjin sends your way is borderline petrifying, but you’re adamant in your refusal. You straighten up, swallowing the last bit of your croissant before staring at him with stubborn determination.

“Have you seen any romance movie ever? They always say that and then they end up together because, shocker, they both liked each other the entire time. Don’t be a typical mc.”

“Real life is not a movie,” you scoff, “You can’t possibly expect me to base my reasoning off that?”

“I do expect. You should listen to me. As someone with an outside view and who doesn’t have this fear of rejection I can observe you both very well and you obviously like each other. Just rip the bandaid off and move on.”

“Rip the bandaid off?? Really? Is that the best you’ve got? Not very comforting is it?”

Hyunjin sighs, grabbing your hand from across the table. His hand is large, warm, and you can’t help but be comforted when it envelops you.

“Just trust me.”

Against your wishes Hyunjin’s words stick with you for the rest of the day. It’s not the first time you’d considered confessing, finally letting the feelings that have been building up since high school free— wondering if getting all of it off your chest would make you feel better. But then again, you’d just be like everyone else who’s ever confessed to chan. Begging for him to love them back, face in a red flush, wondering what it would be like to love him.

Day by day the air gets colder, blowing against you so harshly it feels like needles prick your skin. The sky is a deep blue, only covered by a few wispy clouds. Around you couples and friends walk through town together, hand in hand, leaning on each other, hands running over each other’s waists. Happily in love.

You look down at the ground with a sad smile, quivering with each step you take, and this time the silence doesn’t allow your thoughts to disappear— it just lets them come knocking even harder. It happens sometimes, when no matter what you do you can’t escape them.

Against your better judgement you hope Chan is at your dorm. He slept over after a movie night, face pressed against the couch and bangs covering his eyes. you watched him for longer than you’d have liked, but you revel in any opportunity to imagine you both are more than you really are. You know it’s all in your head, you know you’ve got everything wrong, you know it’s just hurting yourself more— but when it comes to Chan you find that it doesn’t matter.

The walk to your dorm is slow, with you stopping to look at everything you could. Staring at worn down buildings, waving at cute dogs, and smiling at people as you walked past. Attempting to immerse yourself in the world around you and stop feeling like a passing viewer— to make it so that it felt like people saw you, and you weren’t just there.

You’d left your dorm room early this morning, meeting up with Hyunjin due to plans you’d both made the week prior. You always enjoyed talking to Hyunjin. He knew what was important in life, was strong-willed and attentive. He gave you the best advice, even if sometimes you didn’t follow it. Besides Chan he was probably one of your closest friends, as well as a boy named Lee Felix and your dorm mate. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them both, and it makes you a little sad. You feel like you lose grip over the people that’s important to you, and that after a while they’ll have no problem leaving you behind.

You heave a deep sigh to get the thoughts out your mind, wishing the September sun was a little brighter so it could lift your spirits. Your latte is still warm in your hand, and you tap your nails against it as you trudge up the road leading back to campus. Hyunjin had other business in the city so you two went your separate ways after breakfast. It was still early, unfortunately, and you had no idea how you’d spend the rest of your day. It was too cold to do anything really fun, and most of your friends had classes today anyway.

It was obvious when you’d arrived back on campus. If the intricate buildings weren’t enough, the perfectly paved pathways and neatly trimmed hedges were. People carried books with them as they walked, wearing big jackets and hats. It was really getting colder, and it almost saddened you. Another year coming to a close and you were still stuck with the same problems and the same feelings. You waved at people as you passed, recognizing a few familiar faces along the way. Attention fueled you, made you feel that maybe you were more in this world than you thought you were. That maybe things could be different, that you and Chan could walk side by side and all those people that usually follow behind him could follow behind you too.

Heat punches you in the face as soon as you step inside your housing, your feet clicking against the hardwood floors in something that’s become a comfortable routine. Your jacket now feels like it’s too warm, sticking to you and trapping heat inside. You rush up the stairs, by passing the elevator that’s been out of order for weeks now, and hurriedly shove your key in the lock on your door.

When you come in Chan isn’t there, but he could be in any of the other rooms of your dorm. You don’t call out for him, not sure if you want to hear the silence that might come as a reply. You kick your shoes off and hang your jacket on the door, unwrapping your scarf and tossing it on the couch on your way to your bedroom. The door is cracked open and the light is on, and the view brings a smile to your face without your control. You open the door wider and peek in. Chan is sitting on your bed, feet propped up in front of him, book in hand. Chan has always loved to read since the day you first met him in Junior year of high school. You thought that like a typical boy if he was reading at all it’d be a comic, or an action series, but it was a romance. At first it was anything he could get his hands on. He’d read pride and prejudice three times, and then decided to spend all his free time in the library. You always joined him, of course, happy to have a friend who liked the same things as you.

When you gifted him a large set of romance books for his birthday that year you were sure he’d kiss you. He stared at you like he would, before smiling and bringing you close into a hug. He still has every book, and it makes your heart flutter in silly ways. Right now, he’s holding a book out in front of him, reading glasses perched on his nose and a cup of tea on his nightstand. He’s really a sight for sore eyes, lips pursed in frustration or concentration you’re not sure. When reading it could be either. He flips the pages deftly, running over each line with the intention to devour every word, to soak it in with everything he could.

He’s so immersed you’re sure if you spoke he wouldn’t even hear, and if he did he’d only answer when he was done reading the page. You two were the same in that sense. You stepped into the room fully and closed the door behind you, dropping your latte and the coffee you got for Chan on the nightstand next to his tea and then laid flat on your bed with a sigh. Your arms sprawled out beside you, and your chest raised with every breath.

You turned your head to the side to look at Chan and couldn’t help the flush that warmed your cheeks when you met his eyes, him already staring down at you with a fond smile on his face.

“Hi.” You whispered, rolling onto your side to look at him more comfortably.

“Hi,” he murmured, closing his book and pushing it to the side. He rolled onto his side to look at you, moving himself even closer before running a hand down your hair and cradling your neck, running a slow finger across your skin.

“How was your day?”

“I read myself into oblivion while waiting here like a poor housewife for my dear best friend to come back.”

“House husband,” You correct, “And I went to the cafe with Hyun,” you whined, “don’t tease me.”

“I’m serious,” Chan laughed, moving his finger from your neck to slip it under the hem of your shirt and lightly tug it. “I was so lonely and I didn’t call ‘cus I know how much you like hanging out with him.”

You giggle, sitting up and facing him. “Oh yeah? I like hanging with you too, you know.”

“I know. I’d rather argue with you than laugh with anyone else.”

“So what does that say about you?” You scoff, laying back down beside him and trying to ignore the fact that you both have gotten even closer, and each breath that leaves his lips lingers against your skin. You see his lashes flutter under your gaze, yet he doesn’t stop staring intensely at your face.

“That I love you.”

It comes as a whisper, like a confession. But you can’t get your hopes up. You won’t. You pray for some miracle that Chan didn’t hear the hitch in your breath, or the fact that you noticeably flinched at his words, your lashes fluttering closed under his gaze. Your heart beats erratically, thumping against your chest and pounding harshly against your rib cage. If chan moved closer, if he pressed his body fully to yours, you wonder if his heartbeat would match your own.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

Chan holds his phone tightly, a frown etched onto his face. The group chat is blowing up and he can’t stop for a moment to read any of the messages. He weaves between groups of people, waving at most of them as he goes. A lot of people know him, a lot of people admire him. He helps out as many people as he can and makes friends with most, just trying to be a pillar for others— someone other people can look up to and lean on when they need to. That’s something that he’s always wanted to be, who he felt like he needed to be since a young age.

He remembered what you’d had to say about it during your second year and his third, your books spilled over the desk in your bedroom. You had dark circles under your eyes, and you were getting thinner, yet you still managed to smile at him so brightly. As if he was someone that deserved to see such beauty, such love in your gaze.

“So that's the face someone makes when they know everyone’s obsessed with them, huh?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Chan, it’s good, you deserve to be loved.”

Just not in the way he’d like, Chan guesses, frowning at the memory. He still remembers how much it bothered him that he couldn’t do anything more but bring you company during one of your hardest years in college, just having to watch as you worked yourself to the bone. He would’ve taken all your exams if he could, but you would’ve never let him, too content in neglecting yourself rather than letting your friends do the same.

The sun is practically nonexistent this afternoon, hiding behind heavy clouds. It's been raining for the last few days, coating the city in a bleak atmosphere that heavily resonates with him. It almost feels like the lower his mood becomes the dimmer everything around him does too. Sighing, Chan turns around to face the large, grandiose building that’s become the meetup spot for him and his friends.

He skips up the steps, and pushes open the door to the studio, feeling good at the wave of heat that brushes over him. He goes there enough to bypass having to sign in, simply sending a nod the receptionists way and walking to the elevator. Judging by the state of the group chat, Changbin and Jisung are already there. Jeongin might be too, but he knows the younger one is busy with his own workload. It sucks to never have time to see each other anymore, and even though the school year just started he’s hoping to see the end of it sooner rather than later.

When he pushes open the soundproof doors and ambles into the studio, Jisung is on his back in a matter of seconds. As jumpy as ever and unnaturally excitable, he latches on to Chan already asking a million questions. Changbin just laughs where he’s seated in front of the soundboard, messing with the dials and settings until they’re at a level he’s comfortable with.

Chan drops his bag down before plopping onto one of the padded seats in the studio and Jisung wastes no time sitting next to him. Though when he finally stops his chattering a frown etches into his face.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung asks, a hand coming to Chan’s shoulder and squeezing lightly, attempting to bring a warmth of comfort.

“Nothing,” Chan laughs, shaking his head.

Changbin has come closer now, either finished with the setup or wondering what’s going on.

“I swear! I’m just having a long day, that’s all.”

“Is it what I think it is?”

“Well what do you think it is?” Chan tenses, eyebrow raised at Changbin where the latter stares down at him.

“Is it this shit with Y/n again?”

“I’m sorry, what? It’s not anything, exactly like I said.”

“We already know when you come in here pouty and upset it’s because of her. Dude, I think you just need to let it go.”

Chan sputters, his eyebrows furrowing more in confusion than anger. “Let what go?”

“These feelings? It’s just hurting you more than helping and maybe you need to realize that this thing between you two isn’t meant to be.”

“Bin-”

“Please, Sung, you’ve said the same thing yourself.”

“What!? So you two have just been talking about me like-”

“No, that’s not it. We’re just worried and it’s translating poorly.”

“You don’t need to be worried, and like I said it’s nothing, so leave it alone.”

“Whatever, man.”

Chan grabs his bag where he's set it down and wraps his jacket around him once again. He hears Jisung call out to him but he can’t work there, not with the hostile energy that’s bouncing around in that studio. The door slams shut behind him and he doesn’t even bother looking back. He bypasses the elevator, instead running down the steps and rushing outside, welcoming the chill of the afternoon air. It cools his heated skin and his angered heart, and gives him the strength to leave the area and walk back where he came.

He sees people he knows on the way but he pretends he doesn’t, not in much of a mood to pretend to be happy to see everyone he meets. His mind is a tornado of thoughts, and his feet move quicker than his mind. When he sees your dorm up ahead he scoffs at himself, at his stupidity, at his dependence on you. He continues anyway, running up the stairs and turning his key into the lock. You’re breaking so many rules for him, allowing him so much freedom in your life, and it just makes the spot he’s carved in his heart for you to deepen.

His mind is frazzled as well as his hair. His chest heaves in frustration. At himself, at his choices, at everything. It seems so difficult for everything to go the way he wants, as if the world makes it so that everything he wants to go his way simply doesn’t. His key is still in the door. He hasn’t pushed it open. He wants to pretend this act he’s got going on isn’t hurting him, pretend that acting like you’re only a friend to him isn’t something that carves pieces in his heart at every moment. His hand trembles at his side, wishing he had yours to hold. Wishing he had your skin to run over and calm him.

He doesn’t know when you’ve become such a comfort to him. Maybe it was when you’d smiled at him for the first time. When you offered him a seat at your lunch table and shared what you didn’t want with him when he asked. Or, perhaps it was when you’d accompany him to the library everyday after school, sitting next to each other and reading whatever books you both could get your hands on. Or, maybe it was when you’d spent your savings from your summer job on a stack of books for his birthday, and it was the first time someone besides his mom had ever gotten him a birthday gift.

Or maybe it happened after all that. When he’d cried in front of you for the first time and you just held him tightly, refusing to let go. Or, perhaps it was when you’d come to his mothers funeral. A sad one, it was, with only four people in attendance. Chan couldn’t afford a casket, couldn’t afford to have a church with a pastor. He didn’t have anything, but he had you holding his hand, rubbing his back as he cried at the loss of all he had left.

Chan didn’t know back then that he’d gained something too.

Let it go? He can’t let it go, because you’re a part of him now too and losing you, losing his love for you, would be like losing a part of himself. Chan pushes the door open, content in how much he’s relaxed in the moments before the door. You’re standing in front of the door when he opens it, a mug in hand and a smile on your face.

“You look like you could use a hug.”

“Yeah,” Chan chokes, wrapping his arms around you and cradling your head close to his chest. You slide the mug onto the table beside you so you can pull him even closer, gripping his shirt tightly and positioning yourself so that Chan can lean his head into your neck. His body trembles with the tears that were begging to be let out as he asks in your warmth.

“You know I love you, right? I- I love you so much it hurts me.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his words, whimpered and muffled as they’re spoken against your skin. “What’s wrong, Channie? Talk to me.”

Chan shakes his head, knocking against your chin. “I can’t. I can't.”

“Yes you can. You can tell me anything.”

“I want a lot of things that I shouldn’t.” Chan whispers, bringing a palm to smooth over your hair. “I think about a lot of things I shouldn’t. Wondering if I could have it.”

“Chan…?”

“You are one of those things.”

You don’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until you let out a long exhale, your face screwing up with unshed tears as Chan starts to sway your body against his. His palm continues to run along your hair as if it’s anchoring him, giving him the courage to continue.

“For years, I’ve wondered what it would be like to hold you as more than a friend.”

Chan digs his face deeper in the crook of your neck, pressing his nose into your skin, and letting his tears wet your sleeve. His eyes flutter shut and his grip on you tightens. He didn’t plan on confessing to you tonight. He didn’t plan on cradling you close to his chest, feeling your breath against his skin as he poured his heart out, letting you into the one part of his soul he’s shown no one. It’s fitting, he thinks, for you to be the first to know. He’s peeling himself bare, letting you see the pieces of him he’s worked so hard to hide. The parts of him that he’s held so close to his heart, unraveled with a few simple words.

“Everytime I said I love you, I meant it. I meant it with more of me than anyone has ever seen. I’ve meant it with every fiber of my being, and you have a place in my heart no one else could ever have.” Chan releases a shaky breath, chuckling lightly before he continues.

“You’re already the most important person in my life, and I can’t imagine life without you. I wish I could tell you what you are to me.”

Your vision is blurred by tears, and your hands tremble where they grip Chan's shirt. He's so broad, covering you with all of him. He’s all around you, suffocating you with his words and himself. Your lip wobbles, but you muster up all the courage you don’t have, the strength you wish you held, to open up your heart in return.

“I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch, everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you,” you start, your words muffled and your breath jagged.

Chan is quiet, his heart beating faster than what should be humanly possible.

“When I'm near you, in this space, the pause between this breath and the next, you’ve carved a piece of yourself in my heart.”

“…”

“And I’m not afraid to love you— only afraid that my love won’t be enough. If I know what love is, it’s because of you.”

Chan strokes a thumb against your cheek, moving from your neck to lean his forehead down against yours.

“So please love me. As more than a friend, because it’s unbearable to hold you and look at you without being able to call you mine.”

“I’m yours,” Chan murmurs, “for as long as you want me.”

“So forever?” You laugh, but it doesn’t sound much like a laugh, wet and nasally from your tears.

“I really want to kiss you,” Chan whispers, hooking a finger under your chin and pulling you close. His nose brushes against yours and your breaths intermingle, mending with each other.

“Please.”

Your breath is labored as Chan’s lips ghost over yours. His shirt is soft under your fingers and his hand is strong where he grips your waist. Your lips brush, and you realize that this is it, the moment you’ve been wishing for, begging for, since you met him. Since you realized you were in love with him. With his silliness, with his laugh, his smile, his care. Since you realized his genuinity, how determined he was and is to take care of the people around him.

It’s tentative— gentle and soft— but not hesitant. You’re sure of what you want, and what you want is Chan. Your best friend. Your lips move slowly at first, exploring each other, before they press closer, lapping over each other and locking you both against one another. Your body buzzes with warmth, and you wrap your arms around Chan's neck— pulling him impossibly closer as he smiles.

You feel so warm, so happy, the kiss becomes less of a kiss and more of your teeth hitting each other from the force of your smiles. Tears still drip steadily from your cheeks but this time from happiness.

“I like kissing you,” Chan giggles when you both break apart for air, sighing against your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

You leave a kiss full of relief on his lips, salty and wet, moving your mouth against his as he returns it. Slowly, your lips start to press against each other more eagerly, lapping over each other and filling you with warmth.

You find that you’ve fallen.

Truly, madly, and completely.

Fallen for a man that treats you like you’re his saving grace.

For a man who holds you like you’ll disappear without his hands on you.

For a man who’s simple confession made your heart stop momentarily.

You’re in love, and as much as it had been a part of you for all these years, you’re finally letting yourself admit it.

And he, you.

It’s been a few weeks since then, and you’ve been thinking. Every time his lips brush over your skin, when he pulls you up into his lap and kisses you breathless, when he digs his fingers into your hips content to leave marks that last for the next few days, you think about why he stops. You think about why he doesn’t touch you more. After all, now you both finally can.

Chan sits on the couch, your legs swung over his own, and a romance movie plays quietly in the background. You brush his hair from over his forehead, and your nails gently scrape along his skin. Chan hums, the vibrations traveling through your shirt and into your skin.

You feel the happiest you’ve ever been. You feel like maybe this could be what your parents have always had. A love that sticks forever. You want Chan to be your person. You’re so sure that he is.

“Are you tired?” You question, leaning down to get a look at his face. “We can sleep.”

“No, I’m not.” Chan smiles, grabbing your free hand and tugging it close to his face, leaving a kiss on each of your knuckles. His touch lingers against your skin and warmth blooms inside you. He leans forward, leaving a sweet peck on your lips but you lean in, pressing insistently against him. He lets you, opening his mouth and swiping his tongue across your lips.

He runs his thumb across your cheek, gently caressing your skin and everywhere he touches you, it feels like your body is in flames. This something has been building up inside you and now you're not sure how long you'll be able to control yourself. “I trust you, so please.” You plead, nosing against him. His lips feel so soft, so fitting on your mouth, you let out a whimper when he goes further than just a gentle kiss, taking your bottom lip between his properly.

Chan hadn’t even thought about properly responding to you before he was flipping you over, caging you under him and grinding his hips against yours. Your fingers trailed down his skin, running over the fabric of his clothes before tucking inside the waistband of his sweatpants and sliding them down his hips. Chan was gentle. Always gentle. He pulled your shorts down slowly and you sent a nod his way when he asked you if you were sure.

He nosed against your stomach, trailing his fingers against your bare legs and pulling your underwear down with his teeth. A shiver runs through you at the sight, and you grab at his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself. “You’re so gorgeous.” He sighed, as if he couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that you were his, that he was yours.

His mouth moves along the sensitive parts of your neck, down the line of your throat, while his other hand separates from your own to run down your waist and touch you where he knows you shiver with need.

He slips his leg between your parted ones, allowing you to settle down right on top of his muscular thigh. As the kiss grows deeper, your hips begin to move, gyrating and pressing down against him. As your bodies move with one another, your pleasure continues to rise, forming from your center and spreading over your body.

You desperately try to avoid bucking your hips upwards into him, but fail again and again. Eventually, Chan drags his mouth away, trailing it down your neck. You’re gasping against him, and you curl into his touch, whimpering when sharp teeth nip at you. There’s a tongue soothing the wound, sucking at the same spot, lapping over it. You can feel yourself starting to shake, whimpering more often than not, before you’re dragging Chan’s face back up into a kiss rt. You can feel Chan smiling into it, chuckling just the tiniest bit, but resume kissing him.

He holds his gaze on yours when you fall apart, relaxing your body while the pulsing of your orgasm courses through you. He leans down into your arms right after, pressing tightly against your chest, so tight that you could feel his heartbeat pacing fast against yours. The kisses he gives you are soft and gentle, your thighs still trembling when he pulls away, pulling his grey t-shirt over his head.

The unmistakable shape of his erection that you feel brushing against your stomach lets you know just how turned on he is, and you equally so. His lips return to yours only after he has stripped himself, and your hands move from his shoulders to his chest, trailing down his naked skin, where you slide your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

You lean forward, taking him into your hand. He’s heavy, full of cum, and you slide your body down so that your mouth is right against his cock. You leave a kitten lick on the underside of his shaft, feeling the veins and the way Chan throbs. He’s a pleasant weight on your tongue and you swirl it around the tip before sucking him into your mouth.

Still with your eyes on his face, you lean closer, kissing his sensitive tip before fitting your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth again. You hear him gasp before it turns into a deep groan, sucking and licking as you take him deeper.

Chan sighs, every time you inch down onto him you can feel his skin against your nose and hear the spit fucking back in your throat. Your eyes lose focus as Chan continues to rut into you, and your body buzzes from the sensation. You feel hot all over, allowing him to use you the way he wants. His low growl vibrates down to your core and you resist the urge to reach down and stroke your fingers to search for your own pleasure, choosing to focus on pleasing him instead.

His lips fall open with a few deep grunts escaping his soft lips, his hips moving faster as he pumps himself into your mouth. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

"You are so beautiful," he sighs, his thumb brushes back and forth over your cheek, relishing the way your body leans into his touch. "You have no idea how many times I wished I could take you like this."

He traces down your panties, soaked with your arousal, running over the lace and moaning at the feeling of it clinging into your clit. His thumb follows the wet trail on the flimsy fabric to find your opening, hardly shielding you from his touch. He twists his hand while he continues to press his thumb in circles over your covered entrance, his fingers find your clit, and then he pinches, hard, sending you over the edge a second time and into one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had.

You squirm at the feeling of your release, his fingers slowly peeling the scrap of black lace down your thighs, making a show out of it while he makes you wait. He continues to tease you, staring you down as you slip your feet from them and he pulls them off. His eyes roam over your body, inhaling deeply, breathing you in. His lashes flutter, and the view of him taking you in so shamelessly makes you shudder.

He drops the fabric in the next moment, looming over you with hooded eyes, and leans down to leave a lingering kiss on your lips. He continues to kiss you as he spreads your legs apart, holding them down with heavy hands. His lips find your hips, then he moves down, running his tongue down your legs, taking time to trail along your thighs, your calves, your ankles, and keeping his eyes on you the whole time.

You let out a gasp at the first stroke of his tongue over your clit. Your legs lift a little, but Chan presses them back down, keeping you in place— keeping you right where he wants you.

You run a shaky hand through his hair as you cry out at the feeling of his tongue resuming its ministrations on your throbbing core. You can’t do much but moan and sigh, an incoherent mess from Chan’s mouth. It’s funny to you, how you started this but he has you shaking from under him, building you up and then breaking you down with immense pleasure— a feeling that you can barely think around.

You hear his soft chuckle as he gives you a few more kisses with his tongue, tasting you, before he looks up again and whispers, “Does that feel good?” He teases, unrelenting in showing you just how determined he is to make good of his words. His grip tightens on your thighs, as the swipes of his tongue grow more intensely. He sucks at your clit, pressing his tongue against you to send you into your second orgasm.

Your hips move desperately against his face, hopeless in your need for more. Chasing pleasure with each roll of your hips and his head buried in your heat. You spasm, shaking in pleasure as you cum, soaking his tongue with your release and closing him in with your thighs. He doesn’t stop, sucking your clit in his mouth and using his tongue to lap up every bit of your orgasm. You cry out in protest, your body squirming away from his touch as instinct but the grip on your thighs doesn’t let up.

“Chan please, oh god.”

His chest shakes with a chuckle, rising up and slotting himself between your thighs. You want him, more than anything, no matter what. He kisses the corner of your lips, smiling against your mouth. “I love you,” he sighs, and a smile crosses your face.

“I love you too.”

As he continues to litter kisses against your skin, he presses his cock against your clit, rubbing his hard length against you, coating himself with your arousal. The next time he pulls himself back from you, he only does it briefly— and when he pushes himself back it’s with a thrust into you hard and fast, nearly bringing you to another orgasm despite you just coming down from your previous one.

Your thoughts leave you as he continues to move in and out of you, filling you up and satisfying you the way he always does, but you manage to speak without realizing. “You make me so happy,” You whimper, and your walls contract as he slams into you deeper, lifting your legs and situating them against his shoulders. He buries himself so deep inside it’s almost like he’s melded himself into you. He’s so big, you can barely breathe, allowing him to bring pleasure to you both as he moves.

“Shit, Y/n.”

Even this moment feels too good to be true. To have him rocking against you, pulling you closer than anyone ever has. It feels like a dream.

Your words become nothing but a moan when his thrusts don’t falter and instead pick up. You don’t know how he’s managing to keep going, how he’s managed to move even quicker.

"Come on, baby," he whispers, clenching his jaw, letting you know that he’s on the brink of orgasm. Chan bends down, taking your lip into his mouth, making you sigh in bliss. Then his fingers come down to find your clit, sending you erupting into another orgasm.

The next thing you know Chan is groaning above you, his body going lax against you and his cum shooting into you forcefully, making you clench harder around him. Chan whimpers as he continues to cum, again and again, releasing into you and painting your walls.

“Oh Channie,” you sigh, “does it feel good?”

Chan nods, his hair brushing against your naked skin, and he presses a soft kiss against your collarbone. His lips rest there as you both come down from your high, basking in the glow of your orgasms and relishing in the presence of each other.

He pulls out of you, dragging his tip against your skin before littering kisses against your face. Small pecks that tickle with the gentle force of them, and you giggle, running a hand through his soft locks.

Your chest heaves with the force of your breaths but otherwise your body feels light, airy, and any negative thought you’d entertained before is completely gone. You didn’t need this to prove that he’s yours, to feel comfortable, but he’s shown you that he wants every part of you, and it fills you with an undeniable warmth.

“How is it that you’re this cute even after all this?” Chan murmurs.

“Shut up.”

You trace your fingers against his skin, tracking his breathing and basking in his warmth. Your fingers slide through the grooves in his abs, tracing shapes over his collarbone, and tweaking his nipple just for Chan’s barking of a laugh when he shoves you away saying that it tickles. You lean your forehead down so that it’s resting just near Chan’s armpit, hairless like usual, and inhale— breathing in his scent, his proximity, him. He's perfect, and he’s yours, no matter what.

You’ve always wished for the closeness and transparency of a trusting relationship— have always wondered if you’d be able to get that, if you’d be able to keep it— and Chan is proof that you have. It feels good to know that there are no secrets, no doubts or worries, and that there can only be acceptance between the both of you. A secureness that would be hard to find anywhere else. It fills you with butterflies, as if you and Chan had just started dating, —and though you have, you’ve been best friends for years— but it makes you incredibly happy to know that those feelings will remain, and you can only hope it'll stay that way forever and always.

When Chan runs his hand down your back, reaching below the covers to squeeze your ass, you huff, poking him in the chest as a warning. Yet you know, and Chan knows, that it makes you happy that you have this. A home, a loving boyfriend who loves you just as much as you love him, and a trusting relationship.

Chan likes this familiarity. Laying down with you, bare emotionally and physically, and unworried about being judged or ridiculed. It feels good, it satisfies him more than he ever thought it could, and makes a comfortable, warm, feeling bloom in his chest. He’s happy, he’s loved, and he inhales— taking in the scent of you, your proximity, your love, and he smiles.

6 years later

Fire crackles in the fireplace of your childhood home, the smell of baked goods wafting through the air and filling your nose with delectable goodness. It’s warm, yet the sweater you adorn only feels even more comforting— though the hand around your waist feels even more so.

In the kitchen your parents chatter with your other family members and with your friends, and in the background a christmas movie plays. A christmas tree stands tall in the living room, ornaments dangle from the branches and twinkle with the small gusts of wind from the heater. Stockings line the fireplace and pictures of you and your family decorate every surface around the house. Pictures of chan, too. Him as a child, you both as teenagers, pictures of you on the first day of college, on the day you graduated, at your first job, a picture of you both carrying keys to your first apartment, and a picture of you both under the altar.

The warm, fuzzy feeling that you first had when you and Chan had started dating has yet to disappear even after all these years. It’s still there every time you look at him, every time you hold his hand, every time he kisses you. You nuzzle into his chest and sway. There’s no song playing, only the sounds of the tv and your loved ones, but still you sway together.

The picture of romance you thought you’d never achieve, yet it’s so much more than that. It’s a completeness that fills your heart, a happiness that doesn’t go away even on your worst days, and the comfort of knowing that someone will be there after a long day— there to hold you and whisper their love to you. You’ve been surrounded by love all your life, but this love is something you never thought you’d have. You’d envied your parents for the fact that they’d achieved it, but now that you know what it feels like you can only be happy at the fact that they’d been so lucky. That you’re so lucky.

So, when did you fall in love?

You think you could most likely tie it back to when Chan first laid a kiss on your skin, cheeks flushed and eyes red with tears. Or, perhaps it was when he’d confessed his love to you, waxing poetic about the feelings that you thought were only yours to hold. Or, maybe it was when he took you into his arms for the first time, holding you with care and treating you as if you were something to be treasured.

Maybe it was before all of this. Maybe you still aren’t really in love, but the way your heart beats when he’s around, when he smooths his hands over your shoulders and tucks his head under your chin, or the way unshed tears brim at your eyes when you look at the ring on your finger, makes you think that maybe you’re in something much deeper than that.

a/n: 😭😭 as always i hope you all enjoyed and tysmm for reading <33 ily

mini taglist: ily all sm <;33 @itsisa @myjisung @raspbinniecreme @ughbehavior & @svintsandghosts (i can’t remember if u asked or not <33)

#chan imagines #chan smut #bangchan smut #bangchan scenarios #bangchan imagines #bang chan #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #chan x reader

[fictiontbh]

Do you have any Spring Bonnie centered headcanons or anything like that aswell? 👀

<Incorrect-fnaf-quotes, but it’s a sideblog, so I can’t ask from there

AAA SO SORRY FOR NOT BEING SUPER EARLY TO ANSWERR I WAS SLEEPING?? I LOVE YOUR HEADCANONS TOO BTW!! SENTIENT ANIMATRONJCS AUS ARE MY FAVE

Ive been in the fnaf fandom for a WHILE so ive had TONS and TONS of headcanons over the years, ever since fnaf 1, before the lore became SO UNBEARABLE (hah... springbonnie would make that joke.)

Anyways.. onto headcanons:

I have a LOT of headcanons on Springbonnies eyes. Especially since i have an AU where they are possesed by both William Afton AND an oc of mine!

Though, lets start with BEFORE the murders, instead on how his own suit works!!

Springbonnie has a weird eye function, a strange mechanic inside his eyes.

You see how springtrao has these clear plastic bulbs covering the outer layer of his eyes? Outlining where springbonnies more robotic and less alive eyes would usually stare? I like to imagine that its a mechanic that they have when NOT being used as a costume! Perhaps its a way to make springbonnie and its (I like to assume) Accidental AI to focus on children. Just something to keep it able to focus. Kinda like an adhd medication but for a robot to be able to NOT look around and get distracted. I like to assume they have something like that due to morbid curiosity. When used as a costume i like to think that springbonnies conciousness sort of.. not exactly VANISHES but isnt quite as STRONG, so those little like... glasses almost, arent needed cause humans are kinda better at staying focused than a curious bunny robot with adhd somehow programmed into their conciousness. Though these stay of springtrap because Springbonnie was sort of left to just rot and malfuction and grow obsolete for around 30 years before Afton came and decided to force himself in such a broken suit (while it was wet too, seriously afton, whats wrong with you?) So it wasnt able to turn them up while being worn.

I also like to think springbonnies eyes change COLOUR to match the person wearing their costume, as best as they can atleast, maybe with a tiny tiny tint of green? Buts till otherwise the same.. Brown eyes makes their green eyes brown, blue makes them blue, grey goes grey, etc etc. It follows EVERY eye colour. Which is why I like to headcanon william as having GREY eyes instead of a dull light blue (even though it IS canon in silver eyes. Tbf tho i also headcanon afton to still have his little manbun/ponytail even when the silver eyes made him NOT have that.) I like to make Springbonnie STILL able to stay alive ish kinda even after the springlocking, thought i like to imagine they cant really front much. And when they finally can it works alot like DID (Dissasociative Identity Disorder) where they will forget what happened during the times they WERENT concious. I dont like writing springbonnie alot because i havent done nearly enough research on DID but i sure would like to add it to him just because... I like leatning how to write and understand different disorders. Especially with my favourite characters!

I have a certain colour code to springtraps eyes for who is who, since again.. OC au.

Obviously, grey is most common, with william always being present.

Blue will be also common. Due to ot being the soul of my OC who happens to be very... stubborn. Not exactly vengeful but he HOLDS GRUDGES. He loves holding onto things that hurt him. Hes like the opposite of that one meme.

He would truly just stare at you. Enraged. How could you say that to him??

Along with the changing eye colour headcanon... I like to imagine they can have both eyes different colours as well, because

1) heterochromia exists, they need to be able to mimic that!

2) it shows who is fronting out of the 3 of them!

This is the chart for how it should work really

Left is for who is FRONTING! right is for who is technically just watching over. They both have equal contribution, but not exactly the same roles.

It will be the same as above even if all are able to have concious at the same time, just with whoever isnt fronting or watching just having their colour around there the pupil is.

Im not sure wether youve noticed yet or not, BUT! I also headcanon Springbonnie as being nonbinary!

Throughout most of this i tried my hardest to use they/them on springbonnie BUUUTTT sometimes Afton or my OC got in my head and i used he/him.

I like to imagine that nobodu decided to give the animatronics any actual pronouns oyher than It/its BUT in those old AUs people made where all the animatronics knew eachother and even all shared a restaurant, i like to imagine Springbonnie would ALWAYS be refered to with they/them because... it would be all they respond to. Not really seeing themself as a boy/girl animatronic because... to them they are just that. An animatronic. And it goes with them everywhere. Every animatronic to them is they/them and It/its. They cant really differentiate between human and animatronic but they most definitely are more human, even if they are kinda restricted by.. being an animatronic. They act very human like.

I do like to have the same headcanon with fredbear as well, though he will respond to anything. She/he/they/it... they respond! Though i personally use he/they on fredbear cause it feels fitting.

I also like to headcanon, in my au that both springbonnie and Shadow Bonnie are the same! Eventually, after the afton springlocking, both springbonnie and my oc's conciousness will split from Springtrap, sometime, and go on to form shadow Bonnie, which is entirely just a physical form of their emotions over aftons actions, so not much like them, but still them. You get me?

Speaking of them basically being the same, i like to imagine the shadow animatronics are also able to ONLY move through walls, project on walls and can morph other shadows as well, sometimes even replacing them with themselves. i like having the headcanon of the shadows going by whatever pronouns, though it still fluctuates.

Projecting on a wall or not using anothers shadow as their own? It/its.

Switching with somebody elses shadow? Copies whoevers shadows they are using's pronouns.

Though this can still fluctuate with he/him for shadow Freddy and he/they with shadow Bonnie because of who they are made of (cc, Jake, and springbonnie.)

Plus! I like to imagine springbonnie was modeled to be what the kagamines are to fredbear. Yk. Like a sibling, lover, or a mirror image! I personally like headcanoning sprinbonnie and fredbear definitely being a ship, but it changes a lot depending on the AU of mine. Sometimes its found family dynamic with the golds, sometimes they just dont have any relation other than William's and Fredbears Fursonas (as therefor friends cause I dont ship willry)

Springbonnie is one of my faves aside from CC and Plushtrap, who i also headcanon being super best friends with springbonnie!! So im glad I got this ask!! Tysvm @incorrect-fnaf-quotes!!! V sillay...

And heres some art of them just for you!

TYSVM FOR THE ASK AGAIN!! I LOVED ANSWERING IT AND THE ART GIFT FOR YOU SPENT FOREVER BUT I FEEL LINDA PROUD ISH?? NOT V GOOD BUT STILL FOR YOU <3<3!!!!

#fnaf #incorrect five night’s at freddy’s quotes #incorrect quotes #fnaf 4 #headcanons #fnaf headcanons #springbonnie fnaf #springbonnie #spring bonnie fanart #spring bonnie #digital art #art #fanart #drawing

[itoshi-s]

Don't worry I feel the same way about mochi ice cream D: the texture is great!! But the flavor....ehhhh. Also, Rin needs a psychologist gf lmao he and so many other boys (like Reo and Nagi) could benefit from having a partner with the analytical thought process and emotional maturity to call them out on shit and give them advice 😂😂😂

Out of curiosity btw, have you ever thought about what lipstick color/or chapstick flavors the bllk boys would like?? Reo supposedly like older, classy women so he seems like a vintage red lip guy with maybe a minty chapstick. Nagi, Isagi, and Rin seem like pink boys for sure but different shades. Bachira is a fruity flavor and likes the wholeeee color palette

aaaAaA pls the psych girlfriends …… yes absolutely </3 rin would HATE the thought of it, but eventually learn that it actually has its perks. nagi wouldn’t realize that it’s helpful 2 hear someone’s pov and actually give him some good insight on what’s going on w his thoughts. reo actively asks u for advice & wants to hear your opinion!!!! it’s not like he’s going 2 make use of it immediately tho lol he’s so baby :( but yes definitely agree. this is extremely self-indulgent but yes all of these stressed out emotionally constipated men need a psychologist s/o. end of story i am actually assigning them one as we speak :,3

as for the lipsticks !!! this idea is so cute omg ^_^ for starters reo is definitely into red, cool toned and rich!! matte or lacquered, it doesn’t really matter, he just loves the color in overall. it’s very classy && he’s absolutely into that. also may i add,, lipsticks stains…..oh he goes cRAZY. as for chapstick flavors yes! def something minty, nothing too weird, he likes the way it feels cool when he gives u kisses!

bachira is so fun omg he truly does like all the colors on u,, it’s so hard 4 him to pick a favorite he just loves them all :( watches you apply it in the mornings &&he’s so giddy ‘cause you can pull off anything and he likes how fun it looks. fruity chapsticks are a must, even better if u have a few different flavors and he makes it a little game to guess which one is it that you’re wearing today >_<

yes !! rin, isagi, & nagi all love pinkish shades. there's something so cute about it! i'd say rin is into nude-ish colors, the kinda pink that looks like your lip color but better, and loves if you wear a darker lip liner w/ it <33 it makes your pout pop nd he just cannot stop thinking about it!!!! chapstick flavor - anything sweet :( the sweeter the better. coconut, vanilla, or some other fancy stuff, he loves to lick his lip and taste the remaining traces!

isagi is more into lip gloss i feel like !! he doesn't discriminate between shades, but pink just does it for him. it makes your complexion all dewy and fresh and he likes how sweet it makes u look :< also adores the way ur lipgloss leaves stains on his cheeks and stains his lips a soft pink as well whenever u smooch him. somethin about yoichi strikes me as a simple,, lovely lovely guy and so i think his fav chapstick is just plain strawberry!!!! mmhm

last but not least, nagi likes u in a little toned down pinks. liquid matte, preferably,, so that it's not a pain later when u kiss him and leave marks :x BUT i'd say he also has a think for darker lip colors, i'm thinking a nice deep chocolate brown or perhaps a brown-ish gloss, i'm thinking of that one fenty heat shade..... it catches his attention, makes your lips so vibrant and accentuated, he cannot resist it!!!!! loves ur cola flavored chapsticks

#✧.* ✉ zari’s mail #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #bllk x reader #this was so cute :3 aaaaaa

[yellowflowerbub]

Hey !!! I love your work and your writing style so I decided to request something. Could you write a female Reader x Inumaki where he teaches the reader how to eat with sushi sticks after reader asked him to? And he is like all flustered touching readers hands etc… If you don’t want to that’s no problem but I’ve just been thinking about this specific situation lately. Thank you in advance !! ;)

꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

summary. inumaki teaches you how to use sushi sticks on a first date 

wordcount. 1.4k+

pairing(s). inumaki x fem!reader

warning(s). fluff, second-hand embarrassment, light hearted teasing, inumaki knows sign language but still speaks, dating stage, awkward situations, reader and inumaki are very nervous

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your sushi rolls were ordered in a pleasing display on a skinny white plate. Beside it, your barely touched drink with a tiny umbrella, a sliced lime on its rim and an unopened packet of chopsticks to eat the sushi with. You take in a deep breath before picking up the paper-like packet. You quickly remove the covering- ripping it away and discarding it to another corner of the wooden dinner table. Now that the sticks lay in your palms, the initial nervousness you’d been trying so hard to oppress felt as if it completely resurfaced at once. 

Across the table from you sat Inumaki and in front of him sat a not so clean white plate. It had smeared brown-ish sauce covering it along with a few stray rice grains that fell from his grasp. Next to his plate, an empty glass cup and the skin of a lime slice inside of it along with dirty wooden sushi sticks littered in that same brown-ish sauce. In his hands, a small umbrella spun in between his two fingers as he pretended to be completely infatuated with it.

You position the utensil in your hand how you’d practiced yet it still felt and looked overly awkward. You were certain if he didn’t know you never learned to use chopsticks before that he did now. Inumaki, receiving a good bit of that embarrassment oozing from you, acted as if he didn’t see you struggling to get a good grip on the chunk of salmon on top of your sushi roll. He recognized that you held it between the wrong fingers and how far toward the bottom you held the chopsticks. He noticed how you could barely close them around your food due to an unnecessary finger wedged in between the sticks. He cringed at the sound of your fish dropping back down to the plate when it slipped from the ends of your grasp.

You pout and sheepishly fall back onto your cushioned seat. Inumaki further curls into his turtleneck to hide the little snicker he felt coming. He tosses the miniature umbrella at you, hitting your forehead and gaining your attention. 

‘I can help.’ He signs. 

You catch the tiny umbrella in your lap, your own hands now fumbling with the trinket, “You don’t need to, I’ll probably figure it out eventually.” 

‘Let me help. Please.’ 

You sigh, “You’re so persistent.” 

Inumaki slides out from his side of the booth and, with a few awkward shuffles, sits alongside you. His body tilts to better assist you, causing your knees to brush past each other, “Tsuna.” You assume it's an apology and inform him that it wasn't needed- the both of you were old enough to handle such a miniscule touch yet your heart still jumped in your chest upon feeling him graze past you.

“Shake.” He agreed.

Now that the both of you were so close, you began to question the logistics of him being able to properly explain everything to you. He wouldn’t be able to sign the actions to you unless you fully turn to him anytime you awaited instruction. You fix your mouth to explain this to him but all the breath you had caught in your throat once his hands fell atop yours. His palms held the back of yours and his nimble fingers traced up your own eliciting an inconsistency in your breathing.

You turned to face him a little bit more to see what in the world he was doing but somehow became even more breathless as your faces were now inches apart. So much so you were sure that you could have felt his breath hit your face if it wasn't for the sweater's collar covering his cursed lips. He gazes into your eyes but keeps his hands still over yours as if asking, is this ok? His cheekbones were tinted a sweet pink color that stretched across his small button nose. His lilac colored eyes darted to every part of your face- trying his very hardest to avoid a glance at your lips. Inumaki's hands were shaking a little too, still seemingly very hesitant to fully hold onto them.

"Yes," you finally respond to him, "Go ahead and show me." 

Inumaki’s soft skin caresses your own as he properly envelopes your hands. He positions your fingers over the wooden sushi sticks in a way he knew you would comprehend while his heart hammers away in his chest. He attempts to slow his breathing in hopes his heart rate would slow yet all it did was make his nerves worse. 

You focused on remembering how he moved you- intensely taking note of where each of your fingertips were placed on the chopsticks. You also took note of how warm he was. The restaurant itself was a bit chilled and the unfortunate adjacency of the air vents and your table only augmented how cold you were. You didn’t know if his warmth was how he naturally was or if the long-sleeve sweater helped keep him that way but heat practically beamed off of him and onto you. 

That heat did nothing to help the embarrassing burn on your face. 

“Tsunamayo.” You assume it’s a good thing from the hint of a smile he said it with- as if he told you good job. His heart leaps when you thank him and widely grin as you properly hold the sushi sticks in your hand. You click the tips of the two sticks together a couple of times in excitement and to show how well you could now handle the utensil. You, so caught up in the delight of your accomplishment, completely forget just how near the two of you were and quickly spin to Inumaki who’d leaned much closer to you during the time you spent fumbling with your chopsticks. 

Your noses graze each other. Flustered and surprised, you pause, and for what felt like the fiftieth time that night, Inumaki’s heart fluttered violently as his cheeks were painted in scarlet. 

“Sorry.” You mutter.

Inumaki knew if he could speak real words, in that moment he would’ve stuttered on all of them. 

“Got a little too.. excited there.” You quietly force a giggle out in hopes of not making the date anymore uncomfortable than it already was. 

He hums. 

"Thanks for taking me out," you mumble, "I don't think I thanked you for that yet." 

He wished to say you didn't need to thank him- to reassure you that he'd been having just as much, if not more, fun as you were. He almost felt the need to thank you for accepting his invitation to go out in the first place. As the prettiest girl he’d ever seen before, he felt that you did him a favor for entertaining his feelings like this. He also felt the need to pull down his turtleneck and kiss you. Instead, he settles for humming again, quietly confirming that he didn’t mind helping you.

You pick at the sushi sticks, plucking the cheap wood, "Can I kiss you?" You didn't even realize you spoke until Inumaki’s eyes widened. His eyes flicked to your parted mouth. You took note of it.

In your peripheral vision, his hand is brought into a fist and shook as if it were a head nodding. 

You raise your finger to loop around the collar of his sweater, leisurely trailing the fabric down his face- the pitch-dark swirls on the opposing sides of his mouth now exposed to you. His heavy eyes fall closed while yours remain cracked open as your mind becomes entirely engrossed in the plush of his lips. The both of you don’t do much with the kiss and break from it quite quickly but for the moment the two of you were connected, each other were all that pulsed through your minds- how his fingers intertwined with yours, how your palm cupped the side of his face, and how tender and calming it felt to fix his lips to yours.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

a/n: i started writing this as soon as i got the request because this is literally so CUTE

Feedback and Reblogs and Appreciated!

#inumaki jujutsu kaisen #toge inumaki #inumaki toge #jjk inumaki #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #inumaki toge x reader #inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #toge inumaki x you #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki x y/n #inumaki x female reader #inumaki fluff

[kiskivmiske]

It is kinda sad that there are dragons in WoF , but no dragon-related species, if you know what I mean. Dragons are the only creatures in their clade. They have a completely different body plan from all known creatures, and there were new creatures introduced in the series, like dragon flame cacti or dragonbite viper, but no mention of six-limbed lizards or anything that could be dragon's ancestor. I mean, they could originate from another planet, or their own species were wiped out by invasive Earth species, but still. I probably should make one speculative evolution tree for dragons when I finish requests, but here is what I think.

Coelacanth's or its relative's descendant walks out on land just like tiktaalik did. It keeps all of its 8 limbs, but 4 of them are more fit for swimming, while the rest is used to walk on land.

Time passes, legs become stronger, the fish grows claws to get a better grip on the surface. Fins also progressively become stronger, propelling the body underwater, while claws and teeth are used to snatch prey.

Soon, fins become more complex, develop anatomy similar to front limbs, with a shoulder and an elbow joint. The ancestor starts to spend more time, going further and further into the continent, climbing trees and rocks. This dragon's ancestor, let's call it a Swampglider, looks like a deformed hybrid between a MudWing, a HiveWing and a newt: brown or greenish in color, with four short limbs and four fins. It hunts in swamps and rivers, coming to lay eggs on land, in warm mud or in piles of decomposing leaves. Eventually, its hunting territories grow bigger, as the creature starts to use claws to climb trees. It discovers that fins allow to glide from one tree to another. It gains a new method of defense: venom glands under their teeth rebuild themselves to spray venom towards the attacker. Its legs become longer allowing it to run without dragging belly on sharp rocks. It now has a built closer to modern day dragons, although it's the size of a large house cat, but steadily growing in size from generation to generation.

Now, as it rules water, land, and air, Swampglider goes even further, leaving the swamp behind. The West of Pyrrhia is still a lush jungle, connected on the other side with Pantala, Ice Kingdom does not exist yet, but it will soon change.

As Swampglider's habitat becomes more diverse, it starts to split into different species. All species but one, start to lose one pair of wings, while the other pair becomes more flexible and strong. East of Pyrrhia, all the way to mountains, is inhabited by woodland dragons, not much different from original Swampgliders. They are also brown or green, sometimes with hints of blue, yellow or red. The ones who live near the ocean are mostly blue-ish or brown, rainforest dragons are mostly green, while dragons of the southern shores have more distinct yellow and orange hues to blend with autumn foliage. In all of those species, scales host photosynthetic bacteria. Ocean dwelling dragons and swamp dragons still have their gills, while the others lost them. The wings became stronger, the dragons now achieved powered flight.

Dragons of the mountains have slimmer build and bigger wings. Their venom spit has changed to ignite upon release.

An ice age is coming, and ocean on the north starts to freeze, spreading on the Tail islands and the head of the continent. And, on the North of the mountains, a new species rises: these dragons have copper in their blood instead of iron, and their venom spit has a very effective coolant in it. Warm blooded mountain dragons move towards the center and the Southern Ocean, as it is not as cold as the other one. Other species also move, pushing southern woodland tribe to spread all the way across the shore of the supercontinent. Swamp dragons, being forced to move to the northeastern volcanic islands, acquired a new defence mechanism: immunity to fire. That allowed them to live on those islands, which are too dangerous for the others because of their volcanic activity. They don't need sensitive gills anymore, as they do more harm than good. They don't use photosynthesis anymore and are becoming stronger and more effective hunters, always sticking in packs, they increase their kill rate. To hide from the cold, they spend free time and sleep in heated spring pools. Crossbreeding with mountain dragons gave them fire breathing ability, too, but it's not as strong as in other species, because they are not warmblooded.

In the western jungle, bug dragons emerge from those who retained all four wings for hovering flight, rather than gliding. They have more diverse methods of venom attacks. Some of them have poisonous glands under their claws and on the tip of the tail. To make the process of hatching easier, bug dragons have a much shorter egg phase, dragonets hatch undeveloped, with rudimentary wings. They actively eat for several months getting fatter, and then hide into a small burrow, coat themselves with air-drying slimy coat and hibernate. After the winter, they emerge fully developed. That way small dragonets have a bigger chance of survival during winter months, when there is not enough food and significantly more rivalry, to wake up when the food is in abundance

Meanwhile, woodland dragons have developed an unique ability to sence brain signals of other creatures. After a period of time, the had split into three subspecies: mountain dragons hybrids, who can breathe fire and read minds, forest dragons who use psychic abilities to trick others into thinking they are invisible by affecting photographic memory centers, and woodland dragons who can only read chemical signals from plants and translate them into coherent data about the plant to avoid eating diseased and inedible fruits. The first species had lost its photosynthetic bacteria and become fully nocturnal.

Sea dragons are forced to move from shallow waters deeper down from cold icy surface to heated derpwater vents rich with life, their photosynthetic bacteria changes to bioluminescent algae.

And then the continent started to crack. Eastern islands drifted to the North, western half of the continent separated and started to drift further away. Volcaolnoes erupted one after another, and methane filled the air. The ice age is gone and a global warming takes place. Ice cap is melting. Water currents change. Now, lush jungle on the west dries up, becoming a desert. At this point we can call dragons by their names, even though they aren't all pureblood.

MudWings and IceWings move back to the continent, pushing SkyWings and RainWings further to the South, while they, in their own turn, chase away NightWings and LeafWings, who, unable to defend themselves from venom spit, had to flee into the desert. NightWings, due to being nocturnal, aren't affected much by the change of temperature and are fine with desert climate. They kidneys can handle high salinity, so, instead of searching for oasis, they remain in a small wooded peninsula, closer to the ocean. LeafWings, having much more competition, are unable to fight back and forced to stay on separating Pantala. BeetleWings separate, one half stays in Pantala's grasslands, the other stays in Pyrrhian desert.

After separation, grasslands become more humid due to being near the ocean, and new rainforests emerge, food becomes abundant, and BeetleWings and LeafWings don't have to fight for supplies anymore.

Overtime, Pyrrhian BeetleWings lose their larval stage and one pair of wings, and, by breeding with SkyWings, become separate tribe, SandWings. Their hearts developed four separate chambers instead of three, which prevents blood from mixing and loosing heat. This mechanism helps them keep their bodies warm in the night, when the temperature drops.

The other part of BettleWings has retained their "larval" stage through neoteny, and it has become increasingly longer. The dragonet grows at a normal pace now, instead of turning into a fat potato worm thing, it's metabolism isn't much different from a normal dragonet, but they don't pupate and get wings until sexual maturity.

IceWing s have lost their natural habitat and have to move to Pyrrhia, suffering from heat in the northern desert, their number dropped to several thousands. Because of inbreeding, many dragons with deformities were born, one of them could bend laws of physics itself to his own will. This ability will later be known as "animus". Unusual IceWing, later named The Great Ice Dragon, being born with an unique magic ability, has sacrificed himself to preserve the cold on the head of the continent. Although IceWings have come through a bottleneck (drastic decrease in their number), they have survived.

#wof headcanon #wings of fire #wof

[acourtofsnakes]

Beneath The Clouds - Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: A warm spring day seems like the perfect time to relax with Eddie and listen as he reads to you. He'd do anything for you, after all.

Warnings: None, really! Mention of food, some sadness here and there but pretty much safe for all. That being said, my blog is 18+ anyways. Oh, and utter sweetness with our boy that deserved so much better.

Word count: 1.4k - This is super short for me. I did it guys. I finally wrote something short(ish)

A/N: so, after a lot, and i mean a lot, of yearning with @ghostwiththemostbitch , I finally hopped aboard the Eddie train.

Masterlist

It was one of those lazy spring days in Hawkins, where everything felt slower, less rushed.

The sun shone in a clear sky, beaming down in such a way it felt more like summer, but with a cool breeze that smelled of flowers and fresh green things.

The trailer park was near empty, parents at work and kids off playing elsewhere since it was spring break. They were enjoying the freedom, working off the pent-up energy from school.

Which worked out perfectly, because that left peace and quiet for you and Eddie to enjoy.

He was sitting on a patch of grass, his upper body leaning against the seat of one of the weather-worn benches, legs spread out before him to accommodate a space for you own body.

You were on your back, between his denim-clad thighs with your head resting against his lower belly.

It was complete bliss.

Nothing to think about.

No monsters to chase. No school to worry about.

It was the sun, the breeze and the feel of Eddie’s ringed fingers gently carding through your hair as he read to you from pages of Lord of The Rings.

Eddie was an excellent reader. Built for it really, so no wonder he was Dungeon Master. His flair for the dramatic made him a master storyteller, whether it was someone else’s work, or his own.

There was a Hellfire Club meet later this evening, actually, but right now you had Eddie all to yourself. And you were very much glad for that.

“You have been much too careless so far. Very well! I will tell you what I know and leave the reward to you. You may be glad to grant it, when you have heard me.”

His voice was like liquid as it flowed over the words, reading them with familiar ease, tone shifting and changing whenever there was a new character.

And even though you’d read it before, his dictation felt like the first time all over again, painting words in your mind of The Shires, of adventures and rings, of wizards and friendship.

You almost believed that you would be right there with them if you opened your eyes.

Eddie turned the page, the gentle rustle and brush of his fingertips on the paper, “‘Go on then!’ said Frodo. ‘What do you know?’”

He dropped his voice, turning it darker, “Too much; Too many dark things.’ Said Strider grimly.”

A faint smile graced your lips, body sunken into the grass, head carefully cradled against his belly which rose and fell softly in time with his breath.

God.

You could stay here forever. Anywhere with Eddie, be it on the grass reading or off somewhere with the others.

He was your happiness, as much as you were hiss. Keeping each other stable and present in the dark moments and beating back the fear and pain when you couldn’t do it yourself.

A gentle tug to your hair stirred you from your daydream, “Hey, you better not be falling asleep whilst I’m up here blowing your mind with my reading skills.” Eddie’s voice slipped from its rippling cadence, instead turning teasing, a tone you loved so much.

You laughed softly, the sound as warm as the sun above you and you peeped an eye open to peer upside down at the handsome face above yours.

Big brown eyes looked down at you from over the book, ever so expressive, especially with an eyebrow raised and his main of curly hair that you itched to braid. He was so pretty.

“I’m not sleeping! Like I could ever fall asleep listening to you.” You grinned at him, watching as his eyebrow raised more.

“Baby, you fell asleep the last time you were here, I didn’t even get past chapter five before you were snoring your head off. I couldn’t even hear myself think.” He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes as he dropped his attention back to the book.

You scowled playfully at him, lifting your hand to thwap the spine of the book so it hit him in the face, “You are an asshole, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie flinched, dropping the book and he stared at you for a moment, before gasping and throwing a hand to his chest, “You wound me, my lady!!! How could you say such heartless words, when I know you don’t mean them!” He dropped his head into the bench, letting out a fake sob, “Oh, the horror!!! I shall never recover from this fatal wound you have bestowed upon me.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, throwing a hand into the grass, “My boyfriend is more dramatic than me. How will I live with this, huh?” You sighed playfully, shaking your head against his belly.

He whined, still flopped back on the bench, “Now she claims to have trouble with me!!! Oh, the pain. The horror!!!” He pretended to pull the imaginary dagger from his chest and pass out, tongue lolling and arms flopped out to the side.

You snorted, laughing from his lap and you gazed at the few puffs of cloud above you, “You are such a dork. You’re lucky I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie lifted his head from the bench seat, looking over your face with this look like…. Like he still couldn’t believe you were his.

That you loved him, all his weirdness and extravagance and unpredictability.

You didn’t care what anyone else thought or said. You saw who he was, who he really was.

The sweetest soul who had been dealt a really shitty hand in life, who was outcast by the people who wanted to be friends with who had built a shell of cocky armour to hide what lay beneath.

Love. Joy. A way of looking at the world and seeing the magic even when it seemed dark and lonely.

You saw Eddie, and you loved every part. And that was the greatest gift you could ever have given him.

He tilted his head slightly as he gazed at you with that burning love in his dark eyes, so deep his pupil seemed to blend with the rich brown and then he curled his body over, pressing his lips to yours, upside down.

His hand strayed up and rested beneath your chin, the metal of his rings warmed by your skin and the sun. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He murmured it against your lips, a whisper into the kiss.

You melted instantly, lifting a hand to gently thread through the curls at the back of his head, the taste of him sweet and heady on your tongue as your lips gently moulded to each other.

Some of the kisses were fierce and hungry, others intended to burn through each other’s body in a slow fire, but these ones were just as beautiful.

Warm, unhurried, melting like candy floss on your tongue and chasing away the dark.

He leaned back, just enough to peck your nose and then your lips again as he hummed against them, mind already on a different path, “Can we go get ice cream?” He lifted his head again to look back down at you, puppy dog eyes and all.

Like you’d ever say no to him anyway.

You rose from his lap, turning so you sat cross legged facing him and you slid your hand through his, bringing it up to kiss his rings, “Of course we can. But I want a promise in return.”

Eddie’s eyes focused intently on you, his head dipping slightly to show his devotion, “Anything. Name it and it’s yours.” He was fully truthful on that too. He would do anything for you, no matter what.

He didn’t even bat an eyelid that time you both got high and somehow wound up tattooing your initials somewhat wobbly over his heart.

In fact, it was his favourite tattoo, and sometimes he pulled his shirt aside just to look at it, your name seared over his hearted to match where you were firmly held within.

You beamed against his knuckles, resting your chin on them for a second, “Will you read to me again when we get back?” God, you were so in love with him.

His smile softened into something you knew only you saw, his free hand coming up and he brushed a knuckle over your cheek and your neck, “Oh, baby, I’ll read to you every single day for the rest of our lives.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson drabbles #stranger things #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn

[meirimerens]

this may be very specific, but what are your thoughts on how True & Canonical™ eye colours of pathologic characters should be like? with some of them, i notice, the colours differ between photo portraits and the models, and then they also differ in the remake? like, as an example, to me personally Stamatins' eyes seem darker when you look on the photo of the dude who's appearance was taken for their design. and in my opinion Kains – and Maria especially – look better with blue eyes because. well there gotta be something menacing and hellish about them innit

now THAT'S the kinda question i wanna be asked. ok let's all look at this together.

of those that differ from canon that i can think of off the top of my head:

STAKH: p1 reddish dark brown, p2 lighter, kinda honeyed brown

he's gotta have brown eyes is all i care about. i do love his p1 red "fiery" eyes... i do. i tend to prefer a more """natural""" color so my ideal would be between these too... dark like his p1 with its hints of red, but more "natural" like his p2.

EVA: p1 hazel-ish, p2 blue

her p2 model (and characterization) piss me off sooo bad they've stripped her of her depth of her warmth of her clover-cinnamon-cloves-cumin scent. her blue eyes make her look so much more babyish, which combined with her Worse p2 outfit, make me grind my teeth. give her her hazel eyes back and nobody gets hurt.

MARIA: p1 blue, p2 brown

SHE NEEDS HER BLUE EYES. I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND. you are literally so right when you say "something menacing and hellish" it is so true. the combination of dark hair + blue eyes is Scawey especially on her, and in p1 seems to denote Freaks (maria, the twins, lara doesn't count she didn't do anything wrong in her life ever). brown eyes in p2 give her a... warmth which i find so unfit for her. all the kains need blue eyes (maybe not nina, I can see her having something else).

the kains Need their light eyes. p1 victor has his like... almost snake-green and i really like that. my Vision for him is a green-blue, not as green as his p1, but not as blue as his p2

KATERINA: p1 very pale blue, p2 some kind of... greenish dark green?

i wont her regardless but on that i do prefer her p2 eyes. the p1 blueness gives her (as mentioned above) a kind of coldness and distance i feel doesn't quite fit her Buried In The Dirt tendencies. i like that you can see a bit of blue a bit of green a bit of grey in her eyes... gives her a muddy, lost appearance. brings a certain darkness to her face that fits well with her story and behavior. to me

NOTKIN: dark brown p1, light hazel-ish p2

i'm giving him brown eyes idagf... mostly because there are other kids around that i think have hazel eyes. + it goes well with his hair

AGLAYA: bright red p1, brown-grey p2

i do love her bright red eyes i really do. gives her a vampiric appearance.. otherworldly... volturi swagger... at the same time, the ambiguousness of her p2 eyes do methinks compliment her characters. you get kinda... lost in trying to decipher her eye color... decipher her... her eyes change as she deciphers and understands you... wrow...

OTHER:

the twins Need their blue eyes. as i've said, blue eyes + dark hair is Freak Combination (except lawa) so they need that. i'm satisfied with what they got going on, with andreys Massive pupils and the white of peter's eyes pink with drunkeness. love it

burakh i think Should have green eyes. its just #earthy. or maybe a blue Less Stark than what he has... a blue morphing into a mossy green... you know what i mean... like an A30 or D10 in this... at the very least

dankovsky has brown eyes in both iterations and It's SO TRue QUEEN!!!! they look T40 in p1 & T15-20 in P2 and to me we can go Darker. so true queen.

#yass!!!!

#YA!!! #ring ring (answers) #anonymous

[bad-time-piss-depression]

ALRIGHT TIME FOR MOTH LORE DUMP CAUSE I CANT KEEP MY PICTURES IN ONE SPOT AND I MISS THEM

Moth is a ceonuthus silk moth (Hyalophora euryalus)

Anyway story time

It was raining and I found a very large moth in my school parking lot and since I wanted to look closer I picked him up (yes I call him my buddy and decided he's a guy but he's not) and surprise not dead just very waterlogged

A very skrunkly guy but he was alive just damp and had a torn wing

I decided to take him home cause what am I gonna do leave the poor guy in the rain

Some pictures of me bonding with my buddy

I just let him loose in my room and would check on him often but he was mostly either drying off or hanging on my curtains so that was chill

I started to notice weird brown patches on my curtains and surprise surprise my buddy is actually a female and is laying eggs

I would've let him go sooner but his wings were still crunchy and he couldn't fly for long

After he's all healed up I set him free (cause he's got what a 5 day lifespan cause silk moths don't have mouths and can't eat and basically only exist to fuck and lay eggs) and now I have all these eggs

Don't know shit hope they hatch end up having like 47ish eggs

Two weeks later little tiny fuzzy eyebrows start emerging

I get them a better enclosure and some good food (absolutely got weird looks from the neighbours whose tree I was essentially pruning for like 5 months but whatever)

If anyone has ever tried to raise these specific caterpillars you'll know they have a fun habit of catching a bunch of diseases and dropping dead from humans.

Despite this I did pretty decent and most of the fatalities were from uhh anatomy issues unrelated to their care

It was very sad whenever one died but more than half survived

Soon they started to look for places to cocoon (the white stuff is the silk) and then they would hibernate until next may(ish guessing on how long these guys live as moths and when I found their mom)

Which works out cause I left my room for college and I don't trust other people in my house to take care of them

When they start emerging as moths I think I'll just let them go after I get a picture of each one

It's been a long time and I miss my buddies and I hope they all do good in their cocoons

Here's some pictures of them being very cute

Little fella waving

They sleep faceplanted into the ground its really funny

#me moffs #moth #silk moth #caterpillar #bugs #little guy #my buddies

[valittlecorner]

☆ Mixed opinions abt BB's new Artstyle...

-Heyyy I'll go straight to the point. The freshly announced new season of Black Butler is causing controversy amongst fans thanks to the new artstyle!! Many says its 'ugly' and a 'downgrade', and trust me I kind of agree, but also disagree. Its complicated so let's talk about it!

☆ The good and the ugly

-First of all, lets check out the actual images seen in the trailer. Its quite short and doesn't have that much to talk about, its basically just Ciel and Sebastian. We'll just work with what we have and talk about both their new looks.

- Starting with Ciel, I absolutely ADORE how Ciel looks in this artstyle. He looks way cuter and overall much more soft/delicate, which I appreciate a lot! It makes him look like a doll. He was already doll-like before but the new artstyle emphasizes that more. Supposing every kid character (like Lizzy for example!) will look like this means a serious upgrade from the previous artstyle!!

For Sebastian... He's the one making us rethink life choices. What happened to him??😭😭 Its not that he looks ugly or something, it just feels off.

- Many other fans agreed saying he looks a little weird. While many can't really pin point whats up with him that makes them feel like its a downgrade, I might have an answer to that! Lets compare both old and new artstyles to ring whats up.

☆ "But he doesn't look that diff-" shut up (aka explaining why does he feel off)

-Okay! Lets compare these two. First off, old artstyle had black lineart all the way. Notice his eyelids? Even those small details are colored with a strong black instead of a softer color that would've mixed better. The hair was made with pretty strong, straight lines as well. And the colors were leaning to a muted tone, as you can see in Sebas' dead corpse skin (sorry for the sudden slander lmao). Now new Sebas! Hair is made with more curves than straight lines and appears to look a bit messier? Lineart is now the same color as the coloring, if you look at the skin, it has a brown-ish outline to fit his now not so dead corpse skin, and the eyelids I mentioned before are the same color! Speaking of which, colors seem a bit more alive than before. And lastly, eyes are significantly smaller and way too far from each other for some reason. That FREAKS ME OUT. I strongly believe the main point that turned off viewers are the eyes ngl... Cause overall, its not even that bad. Its just the eyes that are... Questionable. Honestly, if every adult character looks like this, that can be an issue, at least for me (this analysis made me unable to see the eyes the same way).

☆ The "ikemen" grip

Ikemen: That one male character found in anime that's MADE for fanservice and/or being attractive. Examples may include Dazai from BSD and Vanitas from VNC.

- Now, most BB fans are mad st Sebas' change mostly bc he's THE ikemen from BB and we've had TWO SEASONS + MANY OVAS + A MOVIE with the same artstyle, so you can't really expect everyone to accept that sudden change without complaints. I understand being upset, I mean I'm upset too! And made a whole ass post about it! But I also understand people telling us to shut up and just enjoy the announcement of a new season when 99.9% of the fandom had already lost hope. By understanding both sides, I've decided to take a more neutral/pacifist (?) approach to this. I think its good for people to raise their concerns and complaints about the new artstyle, its not like everyone and their moms have to like the new artstyle, not liking it is completely fine! Also is thinking we deserve better! But completely overshadowing the happy and very awaited announcement of a new season with overwhelming negativity towards the artstyle is ridiculous. You can openly dislike it, just remember to be grateful for the fact we got a new season in the first place. Its not like endlessly complaining will get the animators to animate everything since the beginning just to make us stop complaining. This is just my opinion though, feel free to share yours below!!

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #ciel phamtonhive #valittleopinions

[adobe-outdesign]

What are your thoughts on Glimmet and Glimmora, if you don't mind sharing? :0c

This is just a straight-up weird line. These two almost feel more like Ultra Beasts than regular Pokemon, except the designs are too simple and non-humanoid to really fit the UB aesthetic.

While it might not immediately be obvious what these guys are supposed to be, it's likely they're based off of chalcanthite, which is a kind of copper sulfate that is very toxic (hence the rock/poison typing) and Very Blue.

The line is also meant to resemble plants in a similar way to how Lurantis is supposed to resemble a bug; for this reason, Glimmet's shape looks a lot like an onion or other root vegetable to me, with it becoming a full-fledged flower when it evolves:

Visually, it's got an incredibly simple design, so there's not a lot to talk about there. The blue is striking, and I love the design of the eyes; the combo of the pointy head and tiny little dot eyes are a pretty dang cute feature on an otherwise alien Pokemon.

I do find myself wishing that the body was a different color though. It's hard to tell what it's supposed to really be relative to the mineral head. I'd assume it's rock, maybe? But it looks a bit too smooth for that. I think I would've liked to see the body be a warm brown and maybe a bit more jagged, with the middle part being more of a light blue instead of a gray. The color does connect back to the purple-ish pink of Glimmora though, so it has that much going for it.

Glimmora somehow gets even weirder. The bulb-like body is gone, but it now has crystalline "petals" that it can fold up and then unfold, making it look all the more plant-like despite it being a rock. It also can shoot lasers from its face, because of course it can.

Visually, I like it better than Glimmet; I think the blues are much more striking and letting them take up more of the design was a good call. The head is now more of a slate blue and the body has neon aqua accents, with some complimentary purplish-pink on the inside "petals". It creates a unique palette and makes it stick out a lot more than Glimmet, which looks washed-out in comparison.

When opened, I also like that the "petals" have a streaked look to them and the ends are pixelated and jagged; a good reminder that this isn't a plant, even if it looks vaguely like one. I also like how it has three rows of petals divided by color, which gives it a lot of visual interest without it looking too cluttered. Overall, it's a weird line that's not going to appeal to everyone, but it's definitely unique and nicely designed as a whole.

Also side note: This note about their petals resembling Tera Crystals along with them being based off a crystal/mineral seems like it should have some kind of lore importance. I would hope they'd return to this idea and expand on it in the DLC, but somehow I doubt it.

Side side note: Star shaped with multiple layers? Face with no mouth directly in the middle of the body? Simple design? Cool hues? Ambiguous lore behind them? This could totally pass for a convergent Starmie.

#glimmet #glimmora #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon reviews

[i23kazu]

Hii can i ask u?? Since i want to draw your genshin oc, i want to know more about your oc if that's okay! Thank you have a nice day/night ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡

hi elysia!! thank you for wanting to draw her waaaa of course!

about shuying —

physical description:

shuying is tall & lean, with a bit of muscle (esp in her calves, she runs all over the place 😅)

has brown-ish hair, and the length is to her midback!

wears curved rectangular glasses :”)

her left arm is covered in bandages and she wears a thin turtleneck, but the left sleeve is cut off so the bandages are visible!

she wears two tassle earrings on both sides!

wears a dendro liyue vision on her chest~

shuying’s hair is in a high ponytail with curtain bangs :D

fun facts:

– social worker who’s slowly moving into the medical field…

– never shies away from helping people; in fact, that is her downfall, that she wants to help everyone but can't

– tends to overwork herself between working on cases and visiting clients! baizhu shakes his head every time she comes home bc she literally looks like a dog panting + she's about to pass out

– shuying also is a relatively patient person – in the line of social work, however, she can get easily annoyed at her client's reluctance to become better, so that's something that she has to work with within herself bc she tends to think that shes a failure if she can't help them properly

– loves animals!!! but scared of animals bigger than her (hated going to sumeru)

– she's kind, affable and likeable :") i hesitated saying kind bc i feel like its an overused word but it really does describe her well LOL she gets along well with the uncles and aunties in liyue harbour!

– shuying hates seeing people left out, because she knows the pain of being a receipient. she tries to include everyone but #youcan'thelpeveryone is something that she's coming to terms with

– loves her mother's cooking, hates her father's cooking because it tastes like medicine but she never tells him that hehhehe

– cannot say anything bad about people to their face. she's 100% non-confrontational but is learning how to stand up for herself as well as voicing her feelings, esp when she's uncomfortable! she tends to sit in discomfort rather than let her feelings about something be known

– gets into fights with her mom sometimes because of their slightly contrasting views on monsters. jingli, her mom (finally, a name!!!) absolutely HATES them, but baizhu wants to teach shuying that not all of them are bad

– lives with the anxiety of saying something wrong to someone's face... she hates it. she can forgive herself, of course, but the embarrassing memory will always be there to remind her

#[📍regular broadcast!] #i need an oc tag… #SHUYINGTINGZ

[kitkatopinions]

Nitpick Number Six for Nitpick November

We all know I hate Coco, but today I specifically want to talk about how bad I think her stupid shirt looks. Like... Potentially worse than the volume eight looks for WBY.

I'm not gonna talk about the military aspects and how bad it is with the fact that Coco's inspiration - Coco Chanel - was a Nazi, because that's far more than a nitpick. So instead let's start with color. For the most part, this look (outside of its obviously bad Chanel tribute status) is passable. The pants and the boots and the belt all look good and the glasses aren't bad, though I still say the beret is just generally bad. However, the shirt is a big no to me tbh. In the first shot, the brown looks okay-ish in this caramel-y ochre color due to the lighting, but then when you see it in the Vytal Tournament fight it's this dull desaturated looking brown. And this little black vest corset thing looks so bad, and on top of that, what's with the black brace with bracelets on her arm? It's so unnecessary. And the necklaces with the scarf and the ruffles around her neck?

You know what it reminds me of? On Disney Channel shows, when there's some kind of fake celebrity dressed up in 'fashionable' posh clothes. Or, it reminds me of looks on Project Runway where there's some arrogant person who goes on about how creative they are and then gets sent home in the first round because their look was simultaneously too busy and too boring.

Honestly, this look would've been much better if she'd had just a simple brown or white tanktop on with a black regular old black vest. Not everything has to be 'so iconic no other design looks exactly like this' because sometimes it just doesn't look very good at all. And also, Coco Adel in this ensemble that I would've put together when I was a pre-teen in order to try to look like Hannah Montana made fun of what other people were wearing in Before the Dawn!

Which one of these looks actually seems like someone trying too hard? I hate Coco with or without what I think is a not great look, but the fact that she with her whole chest will judge someone for 'dressing like a twelve year old' because they're in a sweater and skater gloves while wearing this corset-ish thing with five necklaces and a lopsided scarf? Btw, if I ever made a RWBY re-write I would either completely delete Coco or make her a bully (with a different allusion,) and out of spite I would make Reese Chloris into a bigger role and a heroic character that maybe winds up in a relationship with Velvet.

#rwde #nitpick november #rwde nitpicks #anti coco adel #Okay so I went off a little lol #I just hate Coco #Nazi mention

[lairofdragonagelore]

Patterns and Styles: Dwarvish

Dwarven design is well known by its geometrical style and, despite keeping squared, it differs significantly from the pointy--also geometrical--Tevinter design, even though sometimes one wonders if both cultures have some small design overlaps, specially in the architecture when it comes to frame doors.

This series of posts are not exhaustive since I’ve developed a very detailed list of tags tracking certain features of a given design. These posts merely try to gather in one place the symbols and elements I used most of the time when identifying buildings in my analysis of DAI.

[This post is part of the series “Patterns and Styles ”] [Index page of Dragon Age Lore]

Patterns

Dwarves have only three patterns, maybe four, so far I’ve detected. 

1- The first pattern is usually found in borders of columns of dwarven ruins. The tendency to a more square-ish design is clear. 

2- The second patterns [green one] is a kind of a laying C with some detail inside it.  If I trace it, we can see that the carved figure ends up looking similar to the “cup” of the pattern number 3.

These patterns are usually accompany with this one I call “square wave”.

3- The third pattern [brown one] is a sort of a “cup” with a semi-circle inside.

4- The fourth pattern that I’m not sure to whom associate it with is this one, usually seen in the superior border of ruin columns. I found it in Tevinter ruins as well as Dwarven buildings, and until a better identification, I would say that this pattern is Tevinter/Dwarvish.

Architecture

It’s hard to say anything special about the dwarven architecture: we already saw it so many times: enormous caves and gigantic columns decorated with geometrical patterns [some of the above]. Their buildings are carved into the stone, not made out of bricks, which is natural since they are a race that developed an underground culture. There are no windows in these buildings because, with the exception of Fairel, they were always meant to be underground.

Door frames are very square-ish, with geometrical patterns on it, and I can see them as part of the inspiration that Tevinter took to develop their own door frames. 

These doors also have some writing in them that follows the square-based flavour.

Decoration

The decoration of the walls is always very geometrical, making contrasts with different types of stones or shades of the same stone, patterns and textures applied to the stone.  

There are some long holes in the walls that many times are filled with molten rocks that help to have a natural light all along the Deep Roads. We have seen these in different shape in DAO, DA2 and DAI. 

Every corridor is decorated with [one or many of] the patterns commented above.

Among the most curious elements found in places of exclusive dwarven presence is the “dwarven seat”, which has very swirly-rounding elements that makes it very atypical for a dwarven object. This element was commented in detail in “Patterns and Styles: Elvhenan”.

Another curious decorative element that has been present since DAO is the Dwarven analogous Elven Tree Statue which is made in Dwarven style. 

We find this element for the first time in DAO, in Orzammar. I think it’s pretty obvious its link to the spherical elvhen trees, and therefore, to Titans, showing from early time [DAO time!] that the relationship between dwarven and elvhenan via Titans have been part of the original design of this lore instead of being a “later unrelated addition” to it. 

If these trees represents for the Elvhenan the power that lyrium gives them, which is related to the heart [circulatory system] of a titan, it also makes sense why dwarves will have this object in their decorations: as a reminder of their own origin, of the source they were cut off long time ago. In previous posts I also linked this spherical tree with a potential interpretation of the heart of a Titan, which reinforces all these concepts even more. 

Finally, the last decorative item of quite interesting value are the set of Dwarven stone-paintings. The first one was seen in DA2, featuring the Gallows. The second one belongs to DAO, as part of the decoration we can see in Orzammar; it’s a drawing that features the dwarves and their relationship with The Stone.  Curiously, the drawing has a low-key design that may suggest a sun in the background. 

The third one is original from DAI, never seen in previous games. It features a unique tower that, considering the stalactites on the top [which can be interpreted as stalagmites or merely mountains], could be understood as an upside-down image, where the ground is on the top.

In that case, we obtain something that looks similar to a tower that was constructed hanging from above. 

This structure makes me remember The Wellspring.

More details about dwarven decoration can be found in tags such as Dwarven sarcophagus, Dwarven stone-paintings, and Dwarven design.

Sha-Brytol decoration

As an extra detail, I like to highlight the curious design of what little we saw about the Sha-Brytol. I think that lore-wise, we can consider the Sha-Brytol as “ancient dwarves” if not disconnected dwarves that may have something in common with modern dwarven. They may have elements that modern dwarven kept without truly knowing what that means [as usually these things work with the passage of time]. In their corresponding posts, we talked a lot about the differences we saw with respect to modern dwarven. 

Design-wise, modern dwarven display more square-based shapes, 

while the Sha-Brytol create impressions of square shapes by using two triangles or triangular shapes. Even the squarish spirals of modern dwarven design are done in a triangular way by the Sha-Brytol. The presence of black metal with the form of spikes and claws is quite noticeable too, and it’s a detail that keeps linking these creatures with some resemblance to Tevinter design. 

Another of these details is present in the decoration of the Sha-brytol bridges which, by using dwarven patterns and Tevinter claws, manage to create a pyramid-triangle figure. 

More details about Sha-Brytol design can be found in 

The Uncharted Abyss,  Forgotten Caverns

The Uncharted Abbys, Bastion of the Pure

 Ancient Dwarven Memory Wall

 The Wellspring

#dwarven design #Sha-Brytol #Patterns and Styles

[zirielladior]

ella's diary ୨୧

friday || 7.28.2023

hihi ella here !!

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

another nice-ish week. school starts on august 9th. i'm kind of sad, but at least i'll see some friends. i just don't want to do any school work. i still want good grades, of course, just.. without doing anything i guess.

my friend & i started a baking goal a few days ago. we were baking cookies and then his little sister came into the kitchen and asked if she could watch a movie with us. (she's eight.) and we said yes, we ended up eating all the cookies in three days, so we decided to bake again. we baked the famous pinterest jelly tart cookies. they came out pretty good, i almost burnt them because he went to shower and i started reading. but he got out soon enough and then went to check on them and they almost burnt. they're good though, i wish i could give you one right now for staying this look just to read <3 🍪

i spent a bit of today cleaning my room again. only vacuuming & organizing my closet, for almost the third time this month. and then i started reading another book i bought, it's called 'if he had been with me'. i saw it online & in a bookshop when i was in ontario for the summer, so i bought it! a lot of people say it's a little overrated, (not judging by the cover but by the actual book) and of course i saw it. i wanted to buy it anyway because it wasn't available at the library. (i can't really afford me buying books every other day so i usually go to my local library for books i see online that might be nice to read.)

also i've been writing a little bit of my own novel ideas. it think i might actually publish something, (hopefully if the KOSA bill doesn't progress.) on wattpad. not much of a fanfic although that's really the most popular side of wattpad. maybe. i'm really fond of writing a story that may reflect my dream life. you know..? like a good main plot with my dream lifestyle? don't know if it's a good idea though considering i just created this blog.

oh also, i've just started watching stranger things 4 !! i love the show up until now, but i've heard that vol. 2 could've been better. not sure, i just started episode one with my father on wednesday. i hope its not a weird season with a lot more people dying.

oh! speaking of which, i'm thinking of taking bass lessons soon. and maybe piano too. i've really wanted to play both for a while. he knows how to play bass, piano, drums, pretty much anything. he can make a tune out of recordings of every instrument and then he can make a nice instrumental song. he makes good poems so sometimes i tell him to make songs but he doesn't usually. he's making one now actually! i finally convinced him with elliot (his little sister) that he should write a song. so i think he's writing a song, maybe it's a love song for his crush. like i dunno but that could def be a reason why he's hiding it from us. otherwise he's pretty open about music and stuff.

him & i also went to a bakery in town. it was a bit close to the hotel his family & my family were staying at. (family friends trip, chill nothing weird.) so it was nice to go out and feel the night breeze. especially since i haven't been leaving the house much after being gone to ontario for an hour. we went shopping and i bought a cute cream colored mug with brown paint splattered on it, and a cute little baby tee that said gilmore on it !!

we went out to a cute bakery and had pastries and tea. we also bought candy from there for our sisters. mine's twelve and his is eight, but my sister's still pretty immature. they get along really nicely. his sister likes dolls, and my sister likes fixing dolls up. that's not whats immature about her, she genuinely acts five, but she loves dolls, and miniatures and making jewelry which i adore for her. if she's happy, i'm happy. in the end we both bought chocolate covered peppermint sticks with sprinkles. i think it was called lazy dog chocolateria. really great place, the food was sososososoo yummy.

anyway, so much for trying to keep a short entry. thank you for staying this long and listening to my conversations that were, really, just for myself considering not many people are going to listen to these.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

love always, ella ୨୧

#downtowngirl #baking #heart aesthetic #ella's diary #defnottziriella