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blackhakumen · 4 months

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Mini Fanfic #1174: Mansion Date Night~ (King of Fighters)

9:13 p.m. at Antonov'a Mansion's Dining Room..........

Krohnen is completely awesome struck at what is sitting right front of him right now: his bubbly, level-headed girlfriend, Angel, in a short, crimson red dress that almost matches the color of the lipstick she has on her shiny, luscious lips.

In fact, this might the very first time that he has ever seen her wear a dress, let alone in their date night tonight and yet....he couldn't help but to be mesmerized by her irresistible beauty. Not to say she isn't already beautiful in Krohnen's mind, but-

?????: Krohnenyyyy~

Krohnen: (Immediately Comes Back to Reality) Hm! Yeah? What?

Angel: You're looking a little out of it there, Cookie. You having a slight fever? (Forms a Seductive Smirk on her Face) Or are you just excited to see me this evening?~

Krohnen: ('Scoffs') Please. I feel as normal as I've ever been every time I see your face....But you uhh...(Starts Rubbing The Back of his Head Back and Forth) Do look pretty good tonight. (Starts Blushing) Great even......

Angel: (Giggles Softly at her Cute her Boyfriend is Acting) D'awwww~ Gracias, papi!~ (Crosses her Arms With a Proud Smile) It seems my romantic charms is still as strong as ever, don'tcha think?~

Krohnen: (Sighs While Rolling his Eyes) Yeah, and I somehow always fell for it every date night we've been on so far. (Takes a Sip ofhis Drink) Speaking of which, sorry this isn't the most ideal place for romantic evening. I tried getting us reservations from every fancy restaurants this town has to offer, but all of them are either already full or to expensive.

Angel: (Softly Fling her Hand Down) Oh, it's fine, cariño. I'm having a great enough time here already. And besides, you know I don't care all that much about fancy stuff in general.

Krohnen: Yeah, same here. (Shrugs) But I wanted to at least try and do something nice for you given it's Valentine's Day or whatever. (Takes a Bite of a Well Cooked Steak Antonov Made) Hm. Well, I'll be damned. (Takes Another Bite of his Steak) This might just be the best steak I've ever tasted.

Angel: I know, right? (Take a Bite of her Own Steak and Delightfully Enjoying it Shortly After) Mmm~ Soooooo Deliciosa!~ I can't even imagine how dessert would taste like~

Antonov: (Kicks the Door Open and Walks into the Dining Room Two Plates of Sliced Pieces of Cake in Both his Hands) Did somebody say dessert?~

Angel happily squeals and claps her hands as Antonov put her plate down in front of her. She uses her spoon to swap up one part of the cake and eats it and before anyone knows it, her delightfulnsss meteor skyrocketed from their.

Angel: (Gleefully Enjoying her Cake While Mumbling in Spanish)

Krohnen: (Turns to Antonov woth an Impressed Smirk on his Face) I gotta say, pops. Your meal and cake aren't half bad.

Angel: (Smiles Brightly at her Wrestling Boss) We didn't know you have a knack for cooking, Anty,, you're so talented!~

Antonov: (Starts Rubbing The Back of his Head Back and Forth While Chuckling and Smiling Bashfully) Aww~ Thanks for the feedback, you guys. To tell you the truth, I've been taking an interest in culinary arts for some time now. I even got the chance to work alongside the legendary chef, Gordon Ramsey, in the past.

Angel: (Places her Fonger on the Side of Her Chin in Curiosity) Culinary?

Krohnen: Pretty sure that's a fancy word for cooking and junk. (Turns Back to Antonov) You seriously survived a whole day in the kitchen with Gordon Ramesy if all people? That could've been fun.

Antonov: Make that a month and two actually. After the 14th KOF Tournament ended, I took it upon myself to harness my cooking skills under his wing. And yeah. It was a........challenge to say the least.

Flashback

Ramsey: (Angrily Yelling at Antonov Behind Him) Fucking hell Antonov!! Can't you go any faster steering the bloody mashed potatoes!?

Antonov: (Quickly Steering the Pit of Mashed Potatoes, Under Pressure) Yes, chef! I am going as fast as humanly possible, chef!

Ramsey: Don't even start with that "Humanly Possible" crap! I've seen a literal toddler steer pots more quicker and efficient than you could ever hope to achieve and the fact that you're still doing this five minutes after the order's wait time is already finished shows how pathetic you are- (Suddenly Hears the Sound of Sniff) What the bloody hel- Are you crying?

Antonov: (Already Has Twars Falling From his Eyes) ('Sniff') No sir!

Ramsey: You were named the "King of All Fighters" and have the audacity to shed your own tears inside MY kitchen!?

Antonov: ('Sniff') Chef! I get stressed easily when getting yelled at, chef!

Ramsey: Well, tough shit, winker. You could either pick up the pace, cut the bullshit, and finish cooking like you're supposed to or GET OUT!!

Bavk to the Present

Antonov: (Puts on a Dark, Yet Determined Look on his Face) That man gave me no room to make excuses. And I asked none. All I ever did was slaved over that shoving cooking for paying customers until the day I gave up my jacket and walked out of that kitchen, with my head held high. (Went Back to Smiling) I should definitely give him a call someday. (Walks Himself Back to the Kitchen) Hope he's not too busy these days.

Krohnen: I don't think I could ever see myself working under a hothead like that Ramsey guy anytime soon. (Turns Back to his Girlfriend) What about you, A-

Angel: (Continues Eating her Slice of Cake Until the Plate was Completely Clean Before Looking Back Up at Krohnen) Hm?

Krohnen: Nevermind.

Angel: (Points at Krohnen's Cake) Hey, are you gonna finish that cake of yours, Cookie?

Krohnen: (Raises an Eyebrow) Don't you think you have enough sweets for one night?

Angel: (Raises an Eyebrow Back) Do you know who you're talking to right now? I'm the Toughest Woman in all of Mexico- (Suddenly Let's Out a Small Burp Before Quickly Covering her Mouth) Perdóneme.

Krohnen: (Snickers a Bit) More like the Burpiest Woman in all Mexico if you ask me.

Angel: (Pouts at Krohnen) HUUUUSH! I'm not burpy or gross! Take it back!!

Krohnen: (Chuckles Lightly) Alright, alright, I kid! You're none of those things. You're strong and cute, fun, reliable to an extent and....just amazing all around entirely. (Starts Rubbing The Back of his Head Back and Forth While Blushing Again) I know I don't tell you this as much as I should, but....Deep down.....(Gives Angel his Sliced Cake With a Genuine Smile on his Face) I'm pretty damn lucky to fall for someone like you.

Angel: (Stares at the Cake For a Brief Second Before Looking Back at Krohnen) .......You know. (Put the Plate Down and Move Aside) I think I'll pass on the cake for now. I want something else in mind to snack on.

Krohnen: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Really? Like what exactly?

Angel: Well~ (Starts Twirling The Front of Her Hair Around) Let's just say there's this slightly tall size treat that's all grumpy and rude on the outside, but ooooh so sweet on the inside~

Krohnen: Sweet, huh?

Angel: (Forms a Seductive Smirk on her Face) Yep~ And he's very yummy too. (Gets Herself Up From her Seat and Slowly Walk her Way Towards Krohnen) Like, the yummiest, sweetest thing I ever have the pleasure of falling head over heels for. (Sits Down on Krohnen's Lap) And his name is the one and only....(Gently Places her Habds Onto Krohnen's Cheeks) Coo-Kie~

Krohnen: It's Krohnen genius.

Angel: (Rolls her Eyes) Krohnen, Cookie, doesn't matter! Momma Angel wants her Valentine kisses right now!~

Krohnen: ('Sigh') Fine. C'mere.

And with that, the rebellious couple skip the rest of their meals and begin to make out with one another. As every since goes by, the session itself has eventually gotten more passionate and sensual enough to the point of Angel unbuttoning the top of Krohnen's shirt collar and start kissing the side of his neck until he gently pulls her away.

Krohnen: Wait, hang on a second. This is a clean dining room. We can't dirty it up by doing it here.

Angel: Right. Right....(Smiles Brightly as Sge Jumps off of Krohnen's Lap) Let's go to Anty's room!~

Krohnen: (Stops Angel by Grabbing Hd of her Arm) Yeah, no. We're not gonna mess up your boss' room again after he went to all the trouble to put this date night together for us. Also, ixnay on the KID being here.

Krohnen walks Angel to the dining room's doorway and shows her Misha sitting next to Ramon and an already sleeping King of Dinosaurs in the living room watching Wrestling on TV.

Angel: ('Sigh') Así es. He's still as wide awake as a cute baby gecko. But what are we supposed to do then? The holiday's is far from over and i am still very much horny tonight!

Krohnen: Don't get your hair in a twist. I got an idea.

Meanwhile at the Living Room.......

Misha: So, you've managed to win a lot of trophies in your Wrestling days, Mr. Ramon?

Ramon: (Smiles Brightly) Eso's correcto, my tiny friend. Most were pretty tough bouts to venture through and endure, but my papa always told me the "the Road to Victory is never easy in the world of Lucha Libré". (Pulls Up his Eyepatch, Showing Off the Scar in his Eye) And I have this scar to represent this crucial lesson.

Misha: (Struck in Awe at What He's Looking At Right Now) Woooooah......

'Door Kicked Open'

Krohnen: (Walks into the Living Room While Carrying Angel in his Arms) Welp, The night's still young, so we're about to head out. Don't wait up-

Ramon: Now, hold your horse there, lovebirds. You can't without give us some details on your little date night of yours.

Misha: Yeah and where are you going in this time of hour?

Krohnen: Date was fun, the steak and cake were both pretty good, and we're heading out to .....do stuff. In private.

Angel: (Happily Waves Goodbye as Krohnen Carries her Outside) See you all in the late morninnnnnng!~

'Door Close'

Ramon: ('Sigh') Leave to Valentine's Day to get them in the mood again?

Misha: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Mood?

Ramon: It's a romantic type of thing. You'll understand when you get other.

'Door Open'

Antonov: (Walks into the Living Room Carrying Two More Plates of Slices of Cake) Whooooo wants seconds!?~ (Starts Looking Around the Room Before Asking.....) Where the lovebirds go?

@thelexhex

@tampire

@theweebmaster31

@ma-lemons

#king of fighters #krohnen mcdougall #angel #antonov #ramon #misha #gordon ramsay #if john cena could co exist in the KOF Universe so could gordon ramsey lol #date night #cute romance #humor #krohnen x angel #Valentine's month

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caramellohigh · 3 years

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bunnyhybrid!jeonghan x reader

genre: (eventual) smut, (a generous amount of?) angst, fluff, hybrid!au

warning/s: depression is implied

word count: 3k

synopsis: Minghao impulsively adopts a hybrid for you and you hate him for it. But after getting to know your new hybrid, you realized it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. You’ve gained a new friend, a companion and… perhaps more?

a/n: sooooo this was the "generous" amout of angst i was apparently talking about. now that i proofread it, i don't think it's that bad but idk haha as always, hope you enjoy and if you could, pls leave some feedback! my ask is always open <3

but also rockwithyou4thwin!!! congratulations boys 🥺🎉

Chapter 3

Hearing the door creak open, you sluggishly turn to it and see Jeonghan poke his head inside your room. “Hey,” he greets you softly, a small, almost sad looking smile on his face. “Hi,” you mumble back with your hoarse voice, lips cracking at the slight movement from how dry they’ve become.

“Minghao and I delivered all the art pieces safely… Your customers loved them. Had nothing but compliments and good words to say.” You can tell from his voice and the look on his face that he is trying to make you feel better, make you crack a tiny smile even or at least see the faintest of light in your eyes but he falls short when all you can muster is a weak and half-assed, “Really? That’s great…”

“Right? I’m so proud and happy for you!” He pretends as if he buys your fake enthusiasm. At least this way, he can get you to talk and hear your voice, even if you almost didn’t sound like yourself right now. “Did you eat yet? Want me to make you something?” You shift a little, ready to turn away from him and at that moment, the smile Jeonghan tried so hard to keep on his face falters. “...’m not hungry.”

“Mmm… okay. Do you… Uhm, would you…” Jeonghan nibbles on his bottom lip, suddenly unsure and hesitant. He doesn’t want to push you to do something you don’t want to but he just really fucking misses you.

Even if you’re living together, he barely sees you anymore. You’ve been holed up in your room for several days now and to this day, he had no idea why or how this even happened. You just... suddenly kept telling him you were tired, every single day spending less and less time with him.

At first, he understood because maybe you really were just tired but now, he doesn’t know anymore. Minghao told him this is normal for you, that you just need a little bit of time and you’d be okay again. But what did that even mean? Time to do what? What’s happening? Jeonghan was confused but he didn’t push any further, his own negative thoughts consuming him.

He had so many more questions in his head. Did he do something wrong? Did you finally have it with him? Did you no longer want him? He’s scared and for once since he started living with you, he genuinely felt sad. He doesn’t want to go back to the shelter.

Even if that place treated him well and was technically his home for years, he preferred to be here. He likes it here, loves it. Here, he truly felt like he was home and he so badly wanted to stay. He so badly wanted to stay here. With you.

“Can…” your weak voice brings him out of his little reverie and he blinks, “Yes? Need anything?” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice, his eyes bearing the same and it breaks your heart having to say the things that you mean to say. You pause for a moment, swallowing the huge lump in your throat, “..can you turn off the lights when you leave? I– I want to sleep…”

“Oh… Y-Yeah, sure. Uhm... sleep well.” He isn’t able to hide the sadness behind his smile anymore, disappointment painting his face as he reaches for the lightswitch and that is the last thing you see before you’re engulfed in darkness.

When the door closes, that’s when you lose it. You curl into yourself even more, tears streaming down your face as you gasp and whimper. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jeonghan. I’m s-so sorry,” you whisper through quivering lips.

Behind your door, Jeonghan has his forehead pressed against the wood. He listens to your muffled sobs from the other side and feels as if someone just reached inside of him and ripped his heart out. He hates it. He hates this feeling and he hates what’s happening.

He wants to do something, fling the door open and just scoop you in his arms, comfort you the best that he can and hug all your sadness away but he knows he shouldn’t. Not yet, at least. He fights himself not to do it, gripping the doorknob so tight his knuckles turn white.

“She’ll come around. She’ll tell you when she’s ready. You just have to be a little patient with her,” he repeats what Minghao had told him earlier today. He repeats it over and over again until he’s able to finally let go of the doorknob and leave you alone for now.

“Hyung… you’re going to hurt yourself chewing on your nail like that, stop...” Seungkwan warns him as gently as he possibly can, holding the older male’s hand and setting it down on his lap. He gives Jeonghan’s hand a light squeeze, silently telling him that he’s right here for him, that even if he doesn’t have the right words to say, he is more than willing to listen.

Jeonghan is already on edge and sensitive as it is. He doesn’t want to make him feel even worse than what he’s already feeling. “This is driving me insane…” Jeonghan mumbles under his breath, letting go of Seungkwan just so he can grab a fist full of his hair and tug at it in frustration.

All the other hybrids share worried glances with each other, ears pressed flat on their heads. “Can’t you just… talk to her, hyung? Ask her what’s wrong or if she’s sick?” Mingyu pensively asks, tail hanging down. “Minghao said if she wanted to tell me what was going on, she would. I’m not supposed to force it out of her…”

“But… you can’t just stand by and do nothing. What if she’s hurt or something? She might need you…” Jeonghan tiredly drags his hands from his hair down to his face. Seokmin’s right. He can’t just wait around anymore. He’s so worried he can barely think straight. He has to do something about this.

Heaving a deep but determined sigh, Jeonghan stands up and shoulders his duffel bag, “You guys are right… I-I think I should go. I’m sorry I ruined our game today. I just–” Jihoon cuts him off with a shake of his head and pats him on the shoulder reassuringly, “Hyung, we understand. Just go back home and talk to her, find out what’s wrong.”

Jeonghan could only smile at him weakly. “You could still catch the bus if you leave like, right now.” The older male nods and looks at everyone else, about to apologize again but they all wave him off. “I’ll make it up to you guys some other time, okay? I promise!” he yells over his shoulder, already running towards the bus stop.

Jeonghan bites the inside of his cheeks. The last time he felt this nervous was when he went to the shelter for the first time. He thought his heart would beat out of his chest then and now didn’t feel any different. He’s gotten home for a good five minutes already, his bag already tucked away in his room and really all he has to do is knock but he’s finding even just that extremely difficult.

He paces in front of your door for another minute before he decides to just fuck it and finally knock. It takes a while but you tell him to come in. Carefully, he flicks the lightswitch on first and immediately sees the food he left for you before he went out, still sitting on the same spot, barely touched. His heart sinks to his stomach.

You hear him softly calling your name, the faint sound of his footsteps drawing closer to you under the mess of sheets on your bed. Instead of a reply, he only hears rustling. He tries again, this time sitting on the edge of your bed, his ears pressed even flatter against his head. He waits for you to say something or even just make a sound but you still don’t.

He feels his nose prinkling, “H-Hey, are you okay? Are you sick? Does anything hurt?” When you only respond with a measly hum, Jeonghan gently pulls the covers down to see your face, only to frown when he sees how pale you are, how chapped your lips have become and the dark circles forming under your eyes.

Oh, god. It hurts. Seeing you like this hurts so fucking bad. Jeonghan swallows hard, trying to keep his tears at bay, “Please, talk to me. I’m so worried about you. Please...” Your throat feels like sandpaper, having not drank water in a while and having not spoken a single word.

You open your heavy eyelids and the moment you see Jeonghan’s face, you feel your eyes burn immediately. Only then did you realize just how desperate he sounded, practically begging you to just tell something, anything so he can make sense of what’s happening to you.

The poor thing has to put up with you like this and you hate it. You hated yourself for it. You didn’t like the way his brows furrowed in pure worry and the obviously sad look in his glassy eyes. You hated that this is all because of you.

You try to swallow your tears but you just… can’t. Your tears immediately stream down your face as you shut your eyes, pitifully sobbing into your pillow and unintentionally sending Jeonghan into a panic. His shaky hands reach for your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs, “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” His voice sounded so broken, like he too is on the verge of crying.

Instead of replying, you cry even harder and his heart just shatters. Without thinking, he pulls the covers off and scoops you into his arms like he’s been wanting to do for so long. You hold onto his shirt for dear life, wetting the material with your tears as he hugs you tight, rubbing your back and so desperately whispering words of comfort into the crown of your head.

You eventually cried yourself to sleep. But the good thing is that you even fell asleep in the first place. Jeonghan stayed with you the entire time, making sure you were, for the most part, okay as you slept in his arms.

“You scared me,” is what he tells you the moment he notices that you are finally awake. “I’m– I’m so sorry…” you get choked up almost immediately, just about ready to burst into tears again but Jeonghan runs his fingers through your hair and shushes you gently. He holds you close, lips ghosting on your forehead.

And you just stay like that for a while, feeling your broken pieces slowly come back together in his warm embrace, a sense of ease finally finding you. When he’s sure you’ve calmed down, he brings his face lower and presses his forehead against your own. His eyes flutter closed as he sucks in a breath. “How are you feeling?” he then whispers, slowly pulling away and opening his eyes to look at you.

Awful is an understatement but that’s really all you can think of right now, so that’s exactly what you tell him. He just nods, pulling you into him again and hugging you tighter, “I’ll make you feel better. I’ll make it go away.” Finally, you wrap your arms around him too, sighing quietly into his chest, your mind feeling a lot less crowded.

As you watch Jeonghan burn his finger again trying his absolute best to cook for you, you’re convinced that he’s an actual angel. One that the universe bestowed upon you in return for always giving you a hard time. He is your little miracle in the guise of a handsome man with painfully adorable floppy ears and an equally adorable tail.

You feel warm all over as you chuckle at him. He’s smiling at you unsuspectingly as if you didn’t just see it all happen in front of you, hastily putting his hand under running water for the second time around. “J-Just a minute, okay? I just need to… Uhh…” You shake your head, hopping off your stool and rounding the counter. “I’ll finish up, Jeonghan. It’s okay. Go take care of that burn.”

He opens his mouth to protest but he decides against it. Grunting in response, he makes his way to grab the first aid kit, bottom lip jutting out into a pout as he carefully puts ointment on his blisters and wraps them up with a gauze bandage. You can tell this has happened multiple times already for him to know exactly what to do and it almost physically pains you to think so.

He must’ve burned himself a lot when you were stuck in your personal hell a few days back. He must’ve been so lost, so taken aback by what happened, by how you treated him. Everything was going so smoothly after all. You’d literally just celebrated three months of him living with you and out of nowhere, your demons came back to haunt you.

Hadn’t you just said you were feeling so much better? So much happier with him around? Clearly, you spoke too soon. How fucking annoying. This is why being happy scares you sometimes because the moment you feel like you’re at your highest, the world just pulls you back down and slams you into the dirt. You should’ve known, should’ve seen this coming.

Maybe then, you could’ve warned him or even just told him about it. Then again, this is something that’s a little sensitive for you and it’s not like you could force yourself to open up about it anyway. “I’m supposed to be cooking for you…” he murmurs through his little pout, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes refocus and you turn to look at him, your lips unconsciously pulling into a small smile. You expertly toss the fried rice in the pan just as he added a very quiet, “I want to take care of you too.” You almost didn’t catch it because of how softly he said it but you did and you can’t help but melt at his words.

Setting the pan down and turning the heat off, you face him entirely. He’s picking at his bandages and sighing when you suddenly step closer to him, wordlessly hugging his waist. Jeonghan doesn’t think twice about wrapping his own arms around you.

“Hmm? Something wrong?” From his previous whiny tone, his voice softens into something more pacifying and comforting. One of his hands automatically comes up to comb through your hair, his lips ghosting against your forehead, nose in your hair as he inhales your scent. His eyes close in both ease and bliss. You always smell so good, so sweet and warm.

“N-Nothing, it’s just– Jeonghan… I– You–” He hugs you a little tighter when he notices you struggling to get your words out, an obvious lump probably forming in your throat. “If you’re going to apologize again, don’t bother,” he mumbles into your hair before gently pulling away to look you in the eyes.

You stare back, eyes brimming with tears and his heart just instantly aches. “I already told you, right? It’s okay and I forgive you. You don’t even need to apologize.” You search his caramel brown orbs and you see nothing but sincerity in them.

He meant every single word he said but you still can’t shake away how bad you feel, how extremely guilty you are. You made Jeonghan really worried, didn’t take good care of him at all during those times and you made him scared shitless, thinking the absolute worst of the situation.

He didn’t deserve to be left in the dark like that. He didn’t deserve to be hurt because you were being pathetic and miserable on your own. Up until now, he still doesn’t know exactly what happened and yet, he never asked or demanded to know. He says he wants to take care of you too but that’s all he’s been doing lately. He’s been taking care of you more than you’ve been taking care of him.

He’s been so attentive of you and despite still being pretty mischievous, still living off of annoying the shit out of you, when the time calls for it, he knows when to tone it down and listen to you, when to be there for you when you really need him to be.

You’ve been battling this on your own for so long. And now he’s here and suddenly, you actually feel like you can and will get through it when it comes back. You’re a little braver, a little more confident in yourself now and that’s all thanks to him.

Blinking away your tears didn’t work. Because if anything, doing that only made them roll down your cheeks faster. Jeonghan quickly wipes them away with his thumbs. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here, I’m here,” he whispers, hugging you and stroking your hair. You hug him back tighter, hands fisting the back of his shirt, “I-I know. And I’m so– hic– s-so thankful for that. Thank y-you, Jeonghan. Thank you…”

You feel him nod his head and then he kisses your temple, swaying you from side to side as he continues to pat and stroke your head. “I don’t know if I should be sad or not. You’re so cute. Why are you suddenly being so soft and emotional?” he chuckles and drops another kiss on your temple, lips lingering on your skin.

Your cheeks suddenly feel like they’re on fire, making you bury your face in his chest. “I was jus bin nones… Thans Jeonan. I lov– I m-meam–” He laughs with his body, cutting you off and making your heart flutter at the melodic sound. “What? I have no idea what you just said right now.”

He tries to pull away but you don’t let him. Your face feels so fucking warm you must be as red as a tomato and you can’t let him see you like that! His laugh dies down into a quiet chuckle at the iron grip you have on the back of his shirt and he sighs a soft, contented sigh.

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taglist: @grassbutneo

#jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #seventeen #svt #jeonghan imagines #seventeen imagines #jeonghan drabble #seventeen drabble #miracle-bunny

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sxdmoonchxld · 3 years

Text

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room. Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face.

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room.

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function.

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over.

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time.

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice.

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name.

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye.

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!"

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place.

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you.

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you.

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm.

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it.

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you.

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist.

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care.

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage.

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more.

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips.

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward.

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans.

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples.

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking.

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook?

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst.

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls.

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt.

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper.

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

"Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants.

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch.

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror.

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story.

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.'

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock.

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust.

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook. You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix.

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts oneshot #bts smut reactions #bts #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts college au #jungkook college au #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #ao3 #jungkook x reader

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s0ulm8s · 3 years

Text

boys like you (1.0)

✿ summary : alone and left in a mansion with nothing but your canvases and the dust slowly collecting on the window sills - a commission and a call from a childhood friend completely changes your life.

✿ genre : ot7 x f!reader, poly au, hybrid au, soulmate au, deer!seokjin, black panther!yoongi, great dane!hoseok, wolf!namjoon, calico cat!jimin, tiger!taehyung, bunny!jungkook

✿ warnings : mentions of death, maybe some mentions of assault, some fluff, reader is described as small (i.e smaller than jimin), slight age gap (reader is younger than jungkook)

✿ word count : 2.2K

✿ author’s note : i am inexperienced in hybrid aus, smut, and series so pls bare with me (not proofread yet)

✿ series masterlist! | 2.0

making yourself buckle down and work on the piece in front of you had proven to be more of a task than you had originally anticipated. the wide expanse of blank canvas you had stretched yourself 3 weeks ago, mocked you from the the sun room. it was only four days before you had to deliver your piece that you had really forced yourself to pick up a paint brush and do something useful.

the endless days spent alone in the vast building you now called home was doing a number on your psyche. the sheer loneliness seemed to eat away at not only your sanity but aided to your artist’s block - it was truly a gruesome cycle. locked away in an beautiful estate that you never asked for.

not only that, but working from home and having an all but nonexistent social life in a country you only permanently moved to a year prior was a fate worse than you had imagined.

you huffed, finally setting your small brush down on the easel, stepping back to assess your final draft. despite being so unmotivated and plum out of ideas, you were still proud of what you created - you had promised yourself long ago that you’d never sell a piece you abhorred, and you’d remained true to that promise thus far.

a blaring ring ripped you out of your critical trance trained on the landscape in front of you, startling you as your heartbeat quickened in pace.

“hello?” you answered, soft voice flowing through the other end as you anticipated the response from the unknown caller.

“yah! y/n! is that you?” the voice that responded was loud and excited, the baritone of it something you could never forget. a staple soundtrack from the summers you spent with your father in south korea.

“mingi? how’d you get my number?” you asked, a genuine smile flooding your face at the sound of his familiar laugh on the other end.

of course, the two of you had stayed in brief contact since meeting as children. but as you grew, you saw less of each other. three years ago he and his boyfriend, yunho, had successfully started their own rehabilitation and adoption center for hybrids. the first year was hard, but the business quickly gained popularity and as the creator - he’d been exceptionally busy since her permanent move to south korea. they had two permanent doctors on staff, kim hongjoong and park seonghwa, along with a 24 hour staff. the workers were really exceptional, but you had only ever met their core group when the business first started. which included: choi san, jung wooyoung, choi jongho, kang yeosang, the two doctors, and of course the two owners.

“you were commissioned by a friend of mine! which is actually why i wanted to reach out.” he answered happily as your breathing evened and heartbeat finally settled.

“it’s good to hear from you, really. what can i do for you?” you asked sweetly, and mingi only briefly thought about teasing you for your soft tone and giving nature.

“would you be able to come to the adoption wing today? i’m working here all day as we’ve some new hybrids ready to find a new home. maybe in about an hour? you could join me on my rounds and we could talk. i’d like to see you, anyways. i’ve missed you.” mingi spoke professionally, but his admission made tears prick at your eyes. he almost sounded like the sixteen year old boy who had stolen your first kiss when visiting your father that summer and the memory of when things were simpler stung in your chest. your cheeks flushed. mingi smiled at your silence, knowing he had flustered his best childhood friend. you narrowed your eyes briefly, as he had tried to convince you many times in the past to adopt a hybrid of your own - but you had declined, not entirely convinced that you could provide an exceptional life for another being. because even though your knowledge on hybrids wasn't nearly as advanced as mingi’s, you still knew the basics. they weren't just animals, they were human. and there was no guarantee there. there never was with humans. you hesitate.

“y-yes. i can come by, i’ve just got to swing by and deliver my painting beforehand.” you answered as you both agreed on the meeting the time. “oh, and mingi? i’ve missed you, too.” you said genuinely as he broke into a toothy smile. it had been ages since he’d seen you, and though he knew he could blame it on his work - he didn’t know how to face you after the death of your father. he couldn’t bring himself to be there for you, to see you so broken, and he had blamed himself for that everyday. it was a relief to hear you say it. you had always been so forgiving, sometimes to a fault.

after bidding your goodbyes to the tall boy on the other side of the phone, you quickly changed clothes into something not completely ruined by the muted pigments of your paint, loaded up in your small suv, and you were off.

the delivery of your piece went smoothly, no heckling or disapproving gazes from the wealthy couple, which made your trip to TWILIGHT that much faster. you pushed open the double doors connected to the building in the right wing, clearly labeled ADOPTION.

the smell of roses and lavender was strong in the reception area, the scent was welcoming and calming as you walked up to the front desk.

“y/n!” the dark haired boy behind the computer called, finally rolling away from behind the screen. kang yeosang. “it’s so good to see you!” he exclaimed, eyes scanning your face as he made his way around the counter and pulled you into a soft embrace.

“likewise, yeo! it’s been a while hasn't it?” you ask rhetorically as you stare up at his daunting height.

“mmm” he hummed with a nod, releasing you. “i'll let mingi know you’re here.” he called, returning to his place behind the sleek desk, paging mingi, and then proceeding to catch up with you.

the small conversation didn’t last long before a pair of heavy footsteps drug your gaze to the wide staircase, mingi barreling down them.

you braced yourself as the giant scooped you up into a bone crushing embrace, spinning your small frame around in a circle as he let out a happy laugh. your arms snaked around the man’s neck to secure your place and return the hug.

you giggled happily as mingi finally set you down in your original place, looking down at you excitedly. had he gotten taller? impossible. maybe you had shrunk?

after an exchange of excited greetings, mingi gestured to his clipboard before finally asking, “you ready?”

you nodded softly and followed close behind as he guided you down the halls of the adoption center. he gave you the rundown of their center, showing you the wide expanse of spotless rooms sealed in by plexiglass to show the hybrids ready to be rescued. he explained that most hybrids were separated by predator, prey, species, breed, etc. but many were grouped together with their respective packs. the rooms were quite lavish, but not very homey. but what could you expect from an adoption clinic? the point was to find homes.

you passed many show exhibits, watching intently at the small dogs or tall humans sitting in the rooms patiently, playing with one another or napping quietly. you cooed at a few.

“so i asked to see you because i’d love to have your art displayed in our business.” he propositioned, leading you into an empty room as the automatic doors opened and shut behind you. you nodded, heart lurching a bit as you recalled your artist’s block. you shook the thought away as you observed the room. it was large, littered with scattered pieces of nice furniture and random toys. “ideally, i’d love to have your pieces throughout the whole establishment but this is my main concern.” he finished, gesturing to the empty space on the large wall, the one you’re faced with when first entering.

“are you wanting a mural?” you ask, voice now stable and a bit louder.

“i'd like the piece to cover the majority of the wall, but i’d rather have it on canvas if that’s doable. in case it needs to be moved.” he explained as you nodded, taking in rough measurements of the space as mingi explained his vision for the space - effectively helping you circulate a few ideas on what you could create. you accepted his offer as he discussed payment and supplies with you, adding in an extra cost at the large measurement of the canvas you’d need custom made.

the air in the room grew a bit thick at the sound of a small beep, alerting the two of you to another door opening. your skin was now a bit hot and you suddenly became very aware of your surroundings. your fingers tingled a bit. usually a foreign feeling such as the one you were experiencing would send you into a panic, but it didn’t. if anything you felt quite calm as you looked on inquisitively at the distant thump coming toward the two of you.

“ah, it’s look like some of our hybrids are finished with their check ups.” mingi announced as you nodded lazily. he turned to you. “we usually send them into the lounge area for about an hour after routine check ups. helps them calm down.”

suddenly, you could pay no mind to mingi’s words as a black bunny rounded the corner, back foot slapping the tile exceptionally hard every so often as you smiled down at the creature happily. it stopped in it’s tracks as it’s gaze landed upon you, rearing up on it’s back legs, and tilting it’s head innocently as it examined you.

you knelt down to greet him, the bunny immediately approaching you and sniffing your hand before accepting you and nuzzling into you closer. mingi was taken aback as he observed the usually reserved and nervous rabbit.

“hello.” you cooed, stroking the bunny effortlessly, careful to avoid his ears and tail, briefly recalling how sensitive they could be. “what’s your name?” you asked as mingi coughed.

“this is jeongguk, he’s one of our younger hyrbrids. the youngest in his pack.” he told you as you picked the bunny up and set him into your small lap. mingi almost gasped at the interaction between you and the rabbit as you pet him happily.

your trance was interrupted at the light purr and brush of a small calico next to you. you instinctively reach out to pet him, as he rubbed into your hand. “and who might you be?”

“this is jimin, the two are in a pack.” mingi attempted to explain, trying to understand the absence of jimin’s usually protective behavior and unable to tell you the full story before you asked him something he was not expecting.

“and they’re ready to be adopted?” you asked softly, not even looking up at mingi as he stuttered. the idea of adopting a hybrid didn’t seem so far-fetched now at how taken you were with the two animals in your lap. you could handle the bunny and cat, without a doubt.

“y-yes but we only adopt out entire packs together and -”

“of course, i wouldn’t dream of separating them. is there anyway i could meet them properly, as soon as i possible i think -” you interrupt. starting to gush a bit, voice hushed and excitable.

mingi cut you off, “no, y/n. you aren’t listening. they aren’t just a pack of two.” he sighed, as your gaze finally met his. “in fact they aren’t just bunny and calico, they’re pack also includes that of a wolf, black panther, deer, great dane, and tiger... their pack has been hard to adopt out as it’s so rare for such a large mix of predators and prey... but they found each other and experienced a lot together... it was only inevitable. and we can’t separate them, we refuse to. and they won’t leave one another.” he finally finished explaining as your expression fell. you let out a breath. seven hybrids. all male. and three apex predators, at that. the thought of suddenly thrusting seven knew faces - seven new men - into your home was intimidating to say the least.

you looked down at the two animals in your lap, the bunny almost looked cresfallen. gauging your reaction as his big brown eyes stared at you expectantly. as if he knew you’d reject him. mingi continued rambling on about how many adopters had expressed interest in at least one of the pack but were never willing to bring in all seven. it hurt your heart as you watched on the bunny and calico.

the estate your father had left you was empty, though. begging to be occupied. you had more than enough room and were blessed with an untouched inheritance. maybe this is what you should use it for. you had always felt too guilty to spend it. but nothing seemed more right, which was a shocking realization to someone who never thought they’d adobt a hybrid.

“could i meet them? the seven of them? i’d at least want to give them a chance... truthfully, i dont think i can leave them behind.” you admitted softly, the bunny and cat both perked up, ears raised and twitching.

“of course. i can arrange a meeting and speak with them tonight... i’ll gather their files for you to take home tonight. can you make it back in again tomorrow?” mingi asked after a deafening pause of hesitation, mouth hanging agape before coming back into reality.

“i’ll be here.”

#bts fluff #bts #bts fanfic #hybrid #hybrid au #smut #bts smut #soulmate au #poly #poly bts #poly au #ot7 #bts ot7 #ot7 bts #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts icons #hybrid bts

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 3 years

Text

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

#Jily #Part 1 #Of 3?#Honestly I just wanted to give you guys a treat

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carpsurprise · 3 years

Note

Do you have any headcannons on what the bachelors we like getting their first tattoos, (if they get any at all) please and thankyou! 💞❣

yupyup!! sorry it took a while hehe but thank u for sending a req in!! <3

alex:

-omg i can def see him with them and not having them. def something on his bicep/shoulder area he just screams that energy. definitely on the fence about him having them. my gut says they stereotypical tribal shoulder to chest piece but i like alex enough to not torture him </3

-i think he had no problem getting the tattoo in terms of pain and was talkative w/ the artist!! depending on the tat artist he might have even been a bit TOO obnoxious but overall i think he was still and easy to work with!!

-haley had to keep reminding him to aftercare it though. alex kept forgetting and haley knows better than to leave him to his own devices. that thing would be infected/peeling/scabbing just bc i think alex would be too focused on how cool it looks

elliott:

-mmmm i am leaning more towards no… but if he does…. TWO. at most. but sleeve elliott may also be a beautiful thought in my head. i can’t decide oh god, but im sure he talked his tattoo artists EAR off while getting done. half as a way to distract himself physically and mentally bc im sure he regretted it the second the tattoo gun hit his skin (until after and he got used to it on his body hehe)

-but v simple!! def something symbolic but even like those really cool moth tattoos?? i don’t put it past him. cow or deer skull? w/ horns? mmm i love it. def something like that with something like a book quote elsewhere! like hmmmm the quote on his inner shin and the other whatever on his ribs or so?

-i don’t think he’d have any on his arms tho!! aside from sleeve hc i just threw out sdlkfdlk but like in general!! the writing would be smth like that would peek out when he wears his high waters <3

harvey:

-ok gonna ride on no tattoos realistically but tattoos and harvey is also a good thought. but yeah i'm gonna teeter to no tat harvey.

-i think the pain would be a good deterrent, even if it wouldn’t actually be that bad for him. although he is a doctor i DO also think he is a weenie. like if he had seen someone bleeding from a tattoo… why put urself in that position on purpose?

-but with that being said if someone is going to get a tattoo he will help them take care of it when it's healing. he’s got all the aquaphor in the world. he just wants to make sure it’s clean and kept good.

sam:

-i don’t think he’s TATTED up but i def think he's got a good 7-8 kinda spread out everywhere. some on his arms, legs, chest/ribs. some of them have some meaning to him or music… others were just for fun!!

-ummm patchwork style tattoos! and i think he’d def want more just bc they’re such a good way to express urself!! the first one and the second one gave jodi a heart attack but after that it just turned into an exhale through the nose

-i think for his first tattoo he was kinda jittery and definitely trying not to jerk around but the pain was not something he had expected. it wasn’t unbearable but for how long? yeouch. but after that he was like hmmm this is not so bad. definitely didn’t eat beforehand though. he makes that mistake everytime

sebastian:

-mmmm definitely Up There. i think he is the stick and poke KING like he has a million all from abigail. i think the fanon is abby is doing art school online and i stick towards tattoo artistry for her!! but def when they were younger i think seb had no issue being a test run for her

-but i think him and sam have a similar tattoo style!! i think he’d stick with stylized stuff like skulls w/ cigarettes, horror themed, maybe a frog in there… just like generally spooky stuff. spider webs...

-with him and coding i think he’d make a good bit more than sam and can afford a lot more!! like sam i am sure he’d also be v laidback and have no issues getting tattooed. even his first one (i bet he travelled to get it done underage), it was like nothing to him!!

shane:

-ok controversial take: sleeve shane. or shane with like a leg COVERED. like i think the man is tatted up. once again, like seb, probably not too bad getting his first tattoo. i feel like shane’s first tattoo was probably on a super painful spot

-like. he went into it like yeah it won’t be too bad getting it on a super painful spot and then. god. did he regret that. like full intricate tattoo on a bone… it’s not fun. his leg may have jerked once. and ofc he felt bad when the artist was like :/ don’t do that

-mmm i think most of those tattoos are from friends in college or at parties/bars!! a lot of non-sober ideas and tats on him. some of them make him said to think about… like friends from college he no longer talks to etc!!! but also like… some make him happy tho!! good memories

#stardew valley #alex stardew valley #elliott stardew valley #harvey stardew valley #sam stardew valley #sebastian stardew valley #shane stardew valley #alex #elliott #harvey #sam #sebastian #shane #anon

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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

Text

Voltron Humans are Weird 2/?

Lance tapped his fingers against the ground again and again, eyes boring into the laser wall that kept them trapped in the cell. Two sentries stood outside, stiff and cold. He had been silent from the moment the Galra had captured him and Pidge on their intelligence-gathering mission. The others were sure to come for them, but the Cuban worried about what might happen before then. Pidge was his little sister in all but blood. He didn't know how he'd survive anything happening to her.

Loud, heavy footsteps pounded their way towards the cell, causing Pidge to scoot closer to Lance, her hands clenched and shoulders tight. The older Paladin moved a bit in front of his comrade, just as tense but ready to fight anyone who tried to hurt the younger. A large Galran commander, broad and furred, stopped at their cell, motioning at the sentries to lower the laser wall. They obeyed, and the commander walked towards his prisoners, teeth bared in what was either a smile or a snarl.

"So we've finally caught some of the famous Voltron Paladins," he growled out. "And you were foolish enough to bring the Green Lion along. Three little presents for the Emperor. Only," the Galra paused, and his mouth closed as he smirked, "he doesn't care about the condition the Paladins of Voltron are in. Which means I can do whatever is necessary to obtain the possible information you have."

"I knew the Galra were stupid, but I didn't know you were dumb enough to think that we'd give you intel."

"Silence, Voltron scum. With the right methods, you'll give me anything I want." Lance grimaced, but quickly turned it into a smirk. The Paladins had learned rather quickly that it is much harder for aliens to lie or hide their emotions, so even amateur acting among humans would be considered highly skilled for other races. It worked to Voltron's advantage that Terrans were underestimated by aliens, leaving them to believe that such skills like lying were beyond the humans' level. Even the Alteans had yet to figure out that the Paladins could lie with ease.

"We're trained in the art of torture, both in inflicting pain upon our enemies in ways that leave them begging for mercy, and in withstanding that which is inflicted upon us. We have watched each other suffer and learned to defy our natural protective instincts. Unless you have something new to give us, which I highly doubt, there is no way you will succeed in getting information." Pidge side-eyed her companion, but was quick to catch on and smirk as well, as though completely confident in her abilities to resist torture.

"Then I guess we'll give you something new, Blue Paladin," the commander sneered, signaling the sentries to grab Lance. As he was dragged out, the Cuban's only thoughts were of how it was him and not his little sister. The Green Paladin looked on with a stoic face, set in the act that had only just begun, but horror was in her eyes.

Lance was taken to a new room and stuck in a chair. He was flanked by two sentries and four Galran soldiers lined the walls. The door closed with a slam, and the Blue Paladin knew he had no chance of fighting his way out. Though he followed Pidge's lead in retaining an expression of indifference, his heart clenched at the thought that whatever torture they had in mind didn't require restraints. It was a scarier notion than if he had been completely subdued.

The commander moved into Lance's view, his sneer still present. He beckoned a soldier forward, a large box in their hands. It was placed on the table, a dull thunk echoing in the room. The soldier scurried backwards as the contents of the container were unloaded. Several beakers, a few sealed cartons, and a plate of what seemed to be mint leaves. Lance attempted to maintain his straight face, keeping himself as still as possible as he studied the probable poisons. It made sense now. He had no chance of fighting his way out, and poison didn't require restraints. All it required was getting it into the desired person's system.

"Well, Paladin, I do hope that you've prepared for your inevitable demise. Maybe you'll manage to squeeze out a surrender as you burn from the inside." As he spoke, the hulking Galra opened one of the cartons, carefully using a scoop to measure out some bright red powder. He seemed extremely cautious of the substance, and Lance tensed in anticipation. The scoop was brought towards his face, and the sentries on either side of him held their guns aimed at his head. His only chance of living was ingesting whatever was given to him.

The commander grasped Lance's jaw, forcing the human's mouth open and dumping the powder in. The boy's eyes widened as he tasted the poison. It... was... spicy. All of the Galra in the room were staring at their prisoner, the underlings peering nervously at him as though he were about to collapse.

But Lance's mind was elsewhere. The poison was spicy, not a whole lot, but maybe like a jalepeno, and only for a moment before it started to fade. He had swallowed immediately, and the burn felt no worse than his mother's mild chili, made for the young ones and their low tolerances. Many of the foods in space were bland, practically tasteless. Even if this poison was deadly, Lance wanted more. He missed spicy foods, missed the burn and the numbness that came with them. He was the kind of person that had tried ghost peppers and Carolina Reapers for fun.

"Is the pain so much that you can't speak, oh great Paladin," his captor asked with venom and victory in his voice. "Do you think you were prepared enough for this?"

"What is this," Lance suddenly questioned, turning to face the Galra head-on with curiosity dominating his expression. The being was surprised, but nonetheless answered.

"A deadly poison that burns through all it touches, C18H27NO3. We learned the human word from the Champion when he was given a small portion of it, to test his strength. Your species calls it capsaicin."

"Capsaicin?" The commander nodded, his smirk back in place, though it disappeared with the next words. "I love this stuff! When my team comes to save us, can we have your supply?"

"For what?" one of the soldiers spoke up fearfully, their eyes trained on the Terran.

"For food! We use capsaicin to season our food! It's delicious!"

"It burns!"

"I know! It's sooo good!" The commander slammed his fist onto the table, growling. He closed the carton and moved it aside, pulling one of the beakers over instead.

"Perhaps this will be better suited for our motives!" His voice raised as he shoved the glass container over to Lance. The boy was less nervous about this, instead grasping the beaker and promptly downing the entire dark liquid. If the powder was capsaicin, then chances are the other 'poisons' were actually not toxic to him. Hunk had once mentioned that many foods humans consumed were considered highly poisonous. The liquid was black tea, served cold.

"So why is black tea considered poisonous? Lemme guess, the caffeine?" The Paladin leaned back in his chair, arms rising to go behind his head. He was greatly amused by the faces of the Galra in the room, and decided that he would take this to the next level. Their own plan reversed and used against them.

The Cuban leaned back forward, bent over the table as he grabbed another beaker. It was fizzing, so he assumed carbonated soda. It was indeed Diet Coke, or something similar.

"Man, these poisons are failing at their jobs. The first is in many dishes back home, the second is used to keep people awake, and this one is soda. We drink it as a common beverage or a treat." He snatched a carton next, pulling out a piece of pineapple. "Mmm, bromelain. The snack that eats you back." He popped the fruit into his mouth, then a few more, chewing with vigor at the delicious taste. Oh how he had missed Earth foods.

He proceeded to wash down the snack with some of the next beaker, though he stopped halfway through chugging it when he realized what it was.

"Shiro will kill me if I get drunk, and I'm not risking it to prove a point. Ethanol may be a fun recreational drink, but not for kids." The Galra seemed more alarmed at that (though Lance would only later learn it was a combination of him referring to himself as a kid and calling ethanol a fun recreational drink), but Lance was already grabbing the container of clear liquid.

"Seriously? You guys think water is poisonous?"

"THAT IS DIHYDROGEN MONOXIDE AND YOU SHOULD BE DEAD TEN TIMES OVER!" the commander screamed in the Terran's face. Said Terran sighed.

"Bud, humans need dihydrogen monoxide, or water as we call it, in order to survive. Our planet is literally 70% of this stuff. It rains this stuff. We sweat this stuff. I told you that there weren't any methods that could get me to talk. Now pass over those mint leaves and whatever else you think should kill me. I want to save it for Hunk so we can have some food that actually has flavor for once."

The alarms blared before any of the soldiers or higher-up could respond. All personnel rushed from the room, desperate to leave the human behind. Lance was perfectly happy to wait. Chances are they would forget about Pidge due to his terror tactics, and that meant that the sentries would-

Yep, there they were, powering down. The others must've been spotted on the cameras while getting the female Paladin out. Lance got to his feet, whistling a merry tune. He put all the containers and the plate back into the box, closing the lid. With a small heave, he began his way out, carrying his cargo towards where the Lions were most likely to be held.

About five minutes into his rather casual escape, Keith and Pidge came barreling around a corner. The smaller one let out a sigh of relief, pleased to see her brother-in-arms unharmed. Both showed confusion at the box, but neither questioned it, reserving that for later when they weren't on an enemy ship. Instead, they each grabbed a side of the Blue Paladin and his cargo, and took off once more for the exit route.

It took them an hour to get back to the Castle, between lugging the box back to the Green Lion, taking care of any soldiers between them and their escape, and getting rid of the cruisers. Lance immediately disembarked the robotic feline and headed for the kitchen, box in his arms. The other Paladins followed after, curious as to what was so important their comrade risked his freedom to obtain it. Pidge and Keith also wanted to get the story of how Lance wasn't locked up or injured in any way when they found him.

In the kitchen, the Blue Paladin of Voltron began unloading the contents of his prize, and Pidge immediately whipped out a scanner. Her face lit up at the sight of her screen, recognizing what the information was saying about the 'poisons'.

"No. Way," she whispered, looking up at Lance with the biggest smile ever. "No. Quiznacking. WAY! OH MY GLOB, YOU FOUND EARTH FOOD!"

"That's Earth food?" Hunk picked up.

"Quiznack yeah! No more tasteless goop!"

"You risked not escaping to get food?"

"Shiro," Lance called, silencing the chaos that was rising. "I told them that we Paladins are trained in the art of torture and can withstand both our own pain and watching each other in pain. Told them that there wasn't anything they had that could hurt us enough to break our wills." Shiro blanched for a moment before he realized what that meant. The Galra would always take whatever the Paladins said as truth. "That commander that tried to torture me thought he had some great way to break me... Poison."

"They thought these were poisons?" Keith asked incredulously. Lance nodded.

"Not only did it let me know that they don't know anything about humans who train against torture, but also nothing about human biology. I mean, even if all of this was actually toxic to us, a lot of people that learn to resist torture build up immunities to poison as well. They know nothing about us. And guess what, Hunk?"

"Hmm?" Hunk's eyes caught the mischievous glint in his bro's eyes. This was gonna be good.

"The first thing they gave me... a scoop of capsaicin."

"No way." Matching grins spread on the duo's faces. At the Garrison, in their first three months there, Lance would eat jalepenos with every meal thanks to the large variety of food the cafeteria provided. A benefit of going to a prestigious school that felt a little bad about how hard it pushed its students. He kept eating the peppers at every meal and as snacks for his entire school experience, but in those first three months, the other students couldn't seem to believe it. Some thought he was exaggerating his tolerance of spiciness, and some wanted to see how much he could handle. Soon enough, there were kids buying the spiciest foods and peppers they could, then going up to Lance at meals or between classes to bet against him eating it. Every single time, Lance would accept the bet, devour the food, and pull the money from his stunned peers' fingers. Several occasions, he was late to Iverson's class and was seen towing whatever frozen kid had bet that time behind him. Iverson hated it when that happened, mostly because every other student vouched that it wasn't Lance's fault and that he was probably suffering an awful burning sensation at that very moment. He wasn't.

By the end of those three months, he had gained over $3,000 from the bets, and the faculty couldn't do anything. He split the money with Hunk, especially when his roommate used that money to buy spices for food he would always share with the Cuban. Throughout the rest of the school year, whenever someone new transferred in, the other students convinced them to do a bet as well, if only so they could watch someone else suffer as they had suffered. It continued the next year as a tradition, with former peers tricking both younger and older kids to bet, and some bringing in items they had saved just for that occasion. Pidge was never tricked into betting, due to her insistence on being alone, and neither was Keith, because he was an extreme loner that no one could seem to befriend.

Hunk and Lance therefore both knew that there was no way aliens, who couldn't handle capsaicin, who had practically tasteless food because of their intolerances, could somehow give Lance something spicy enough to hurt him in any way.

"Someone want to clue us in?" Pidge asked, eyeing the rest of the Garrison Trio.

"Did you ever hear about the Spice King?" Hunk shot back, as way of a response.

"I did," Keith interjected. "I never met them, but I heard that it was someone who could eat anything from bell peppers to Carolina Reapers and still make it to class on time."

"Oh, I think I did, too," Pidge exclaimed. "I heard in passing, but I was so obsessed back then that I never found out anything more than they existed."

"Well, the Spice King was a kid in our year," Hunk started. "He was this dude who could indeed eat anything spicy. The only reason he was ever late to class was because he made sure that whoever gave him the food got there as well. They almost always froze up because he would just accept what they gave and eat it on the spot. Kids in our year bet against him every day, multiple times on some. The dude earned a few thousand because they wouldn't stop. Usually, students would convince others to bet against him just because they wanted it to be done by everyone. Happened every year as well."

"Adam told me about that kid. Apparently, the teachers couldn't do anything to stop the betting. It wasn't gambling because the outcome was always the same and it wasn't like anything was being sold. Do you know who he is?" Shiro had his arms crossed as he stared curiously at the Yellow Paladin, who was now beaming in excitement.

"It was Lance."

Silence.

"The Galra tried to feed me, the Spice King, a spoonful of spice to make me give them information. Apparently, it was supposed to burn really badly. It wasn't even that bad. Barely jalepeno level. And then the commander went for some really dark liquid, and at that point, I was like 'if they think capsaicin is poison, what else do they got that is poison to them, but not to me' and so I just took the beaker from them and downed it. It turned out to be black tea, and I just gave up on the whole pretending to be a prisoner because they thought I was gonna die from caffeine. Caffeine. If I remember correctly, I had soda, water, pineapple, and a bit of alcohol, but- but," Lance held up a hand to stop Shiro's lecture, "I only chugged it because I didn't know what it was and I stopped the moment that I realized it was ethanol. Although, to be honest, it was really watered down. Well, not watered down, because water is supposedly toxic, but it was real weak. Like, a preteen could probably drink that entire beaker and it wouldn't do anything. It's right... here." He pushed the glass container towards Shiro, knowing that the man would want the alcohol away from children and near his own mouth. The dude was a tired dad in every sense. "Anyways, they got really terrified, especially when I kept making remarks about Terran uses for each 'poison', so all the Galra rushed out the moment the alarm went off, and then Pidge shut the sentries down so I just packed up the box and brought it along. I thought we'd all enjoy some flavor in our food. I also wanted- no, I needed the spice. Spice is life."

Shiro sighed, and picked up the beaker of ethanol, plainly about to down the entire thing. He was prevented from doing so - and the others were prevented from asking their burning questions - by a high-pitched, very terrified voice.

"PUT THAT DOWN, NUMBER ONE! IT'S HIGHLY TOXIC!"

"WHY IS THERE A BOX OF POISONS ON THE TABLE? GET THEM PUT AWAY, QUICKLY!"

"NUMBER THREE, STEP AWAY FROM THEM, YOU'LL BE DEAD IN TICKS IF THOSE TOUCH YOU!"

"Woah, woah, guys, it's okay," Shiro attempted to calm the Alteans.

"IT IS VERY MUCH NOT OKAY! WHY DID YOU EVEN BRING THOSE ABOARD?"

"PUT THE BEAKER DOWN, NUMBER ONE! WE NEED YOU ALIVE! THINK OF YOUR CHILDREN!"

"QUIET!" the Black Paladin snapped, patience running out like a little kid runs out of Halloween candy. The aliens fell silent, staring in shock at the leader of Voltron. Said man held out the glass, tipped it slightly in a cheers that showed the liquid quite clearly, then swiftly pulled it to his lips and drank the entire thing in one go. Allura and Coran both gasped in terror, eyes comically wide as they could only gape at the human. Shiro finished the drink off with a satisfied exhale, his own eyes closing for a moment as he simply took in the moment.

"Well, you were right about it being weak. I don't think an entire barrel of that stuff could make me so much as dizzy. And princess, Coran, this stuff isn't poisonous. At least, the- uh... Lance, what's the stuff that's in what you had?"

"Bromelain, caffeine, capsaicin, dihydrogen monoxide, ethanol, and carbonation."

"Those aren't poisonous to humans. They're actually considered common foods and drinks on Earth. Once Pidge finishes scanning it all, Hunk'll probably include it in our meals. No offense to either of you, but your food is awful. It's so bland that I once licked a rock I found on a planet just because it was salty and took away from the horrible taste that goo left in my mouth."

"Oh, I remember that," Keith put in. "That's why we got those salt-licks from the Earth store at our last mall trip."

"You- how are you not dead?" Allura finally blurted out, face tinging blue.

"Ethanol, or alcohol as we humans call it, is a large part of human culture. It used to be safer to consume products with ethanol than it was to consume just water, so people gained higher tolerances to it. It still affects us, and we can still die, but if it's taken in moderation and you wait until your body is fully matured, the effects are extremely minimal. Even now that most people have access to clean water, alcohol consumption is a common recreational activity. That said, Lance, you better drink lots of water. However weak that stuff was, I don't want to risk anything." Lance nodded as Coran spoke up.

"You consume ethanol, a known poison, which is still considered toxic to humans, for fun?" A nod answered. "What about the C18H27NO3? And the C39H66N2O29? C8H10N4O2? H2O?"

"Translation?"

"Capsaicin, bromelain, caffeine, and water."

"Oh, well, capsaicin is a poison found in peppers and I think a few other plants. Humans use it as a seasoning, and depending on where each person is from and how they grew up, tolerance levels vary. For example, Lance can eat a pepper that burns your hands severely. His tolerance is really high, probably one of the highest I've heard of. He was famous at the Garrison for it. On the other hand, I can barely handle a jalapeno, which is a pretty mild in comparison. Scratch that, it is very mild when compared to a Carolina Reaper."

"Bromelain is known to be toxic as well. But for us humans, it usually only causes a tingling or itching in the mouth, occasionally mild reactions in our stomachs as well. Our saliva and stomach acids digest the bromelain before it digests us, and so many people enjoy consuming pineapple, which contains bromelain, as a snack. There's even this big, extremely long dispute about whether pineapple should be put on pizza or not. Personally, we all had that discussion, and have agreed to each their own."

"Caffeine is commonly found in coffee and some teas, and in many sodas, which are all beverages. Chocolate is a treat that also can contain caffeine, and it's eaten by basically everyone who isn't allergic. Caffeine has been known to have adverse effects on people, but it's much like ethanol: consume in moderation and it won't do as much harm. It's actually used to help people focus and become more aware of their surroundings. What I wouldn't give for a cup of coffee."

"Black?"

"Common misconception. I actually enjoy mochas."

"Nice, but have you tried a con panna?"

"I was going to but my plan was derailed by a certain Empire of purple aliens."

"We have to get coffee at the Earth store. Or maybe a poison store. I mean, if caffeine is poison, the odds are good it'll be there. Then, Kaltenecker and I are making you the best con panna ever." Allura cleared her throat to gain Shiro's attention once more.

"What about dihydrogen monoxide? How is that considered nontoxic?" All five humans exchanged amused looks, chuckles slipping out at the chaos they were about to unleash.

"Princess, dihydrogen monoxide covers 71% of our planet. Most weather revolves around it and humans are actually made up of 60% water, with our brains being about three-quarters of water. We need to consume dihydrogen monoxide to live. I think the only reason we didn't die from dehydration is because the Castle started producing water for us. Really glad, too. Dehydration is an awful way to go."

"Your water is dihydrogen monoxide?"

"What's your water?"

"We Alteans did not have water. It's only translated because of other races and their need for liquids. Coran and I gain most of our fluids from goo and hydration pouches."

"Okay, so what does dihydrogen monoxide do to most species?"

"Number One... think instant death."

"Can we put this aside for now?" Hunk called out. He was holding the spice in his hands, running his fingers like it was solid gold.

"What're planning on making?" And just like that, the Alteans and their dismay were left behind to discuss something else. Allura and Coran exchanged looks and swiftly left once again to the control room, pulling up their new log.

Humans are extremely resistant to toxins. Many chemicals in Terran foods and drinks are highly poisonous to most other races. A list of known poisons in Terran victuals is included below. Some of these are actually harmful to humans, yet they will still be consumed. Once again, a list is included of these chemicals. Important chemicals to remember for the care of humans are caffeine and ethanol. Caffeine can be used to bring a human into a more alert and focused state. Effectiveness is yet to be discovered, and the chemical should be given in extreme moderation until more data is collected. Ethanol is known to be harmful to Terrans, but is still used as a recreational drink. Sparingly give to humans, and only when they are stressed or somber. It is a rule that only fully matured humans are allowed to consume this beverage, given the harmful effects.

Dihydrogen monoxide covers a little under 3/4 of Earth's surface, and is necessary for the survival of humans. Under no circumstances is it to be kept away from a Terran who requests the substance. Terran weather usually includes dihydrogen monoxide, so caution is advised when visiting Earth. Until further information is gathered, avoiding visiting the planet at all would be prudent. Be warned that humans are 60% dihydrogen monoxide, so touching a human's skin or fluids would be very dangerous and should be prevented at all costs, especially if a being is unprotected and/or particularly susceptible to the substance. Humans will likely not realize they are covered in poison, so it is best if they are reminded each time they meet with a being from another race, until they remember on their own.

Data is still being collected about this species. Approach with caution.

#voltron #vld #oneshots #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #voltron oneshots #humans are weird oneshots

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abuttoncalledsmalls · 4 years

Text

Spring Blooms

Warnings: FLUFF - all of the tooth rotting fluff you can handle

Pairings: Marcus Pike x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1 K

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for Marcus. Big ups to @yespolkadotkitty for all of her amazing beta-ing and encouragement.

“Are you nervous..?” You whispered into your fiancé’s ear.

Marcus Pike looked at you with his deep amber eyes and chuckled. “It’s more of a nervous energy,” he confessed.

Your seven year old daughter, Elizabeth, sprinted ahead toward the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery. Sensing that you were not keeping up with her, she turned around to see you both lagging behind. She exhaled deeply and drudged over to you in the over-exaggerated way that only little girls can.

“C’mon, Mom and Marcus! Don’t you wanna see the statues?”

“Lizzy, the sculptures aren’t going anywhere. I promise,” you assured her.

“Sometimes it’s nice just to stop and smell the roses,” chimed in Marcus.

Lizzy scanned the area looking for any type of flower. When she couldn’t spot any, she shot him a quizzical look. “I don’t see any roses. How can I smell them if they aren’t any?”

“It’s an expression, honey. It means to relax and enjoy life.” You took your hand and ruffled her bright red hair.

She looked at you and nodded. “Oh.”

***

Marcus, Lizzy, and you decided to stop and smell the proverbial roses on that Saturday afternoon. It was a beautiful early spring day in Washington, D.C. Flowers were just beginning to bud and grass was starting to return to its emerald green hue. People were emerging from their homes, eager to shake off any somber remnants of winter.

Your day started with the time old tradition of sleeping in. Thankfully, Lizzy understood that sleeping in was a special treat for you. Instead of waking you up, she fixed herself a bowl of Frosted Flakes and watched cartoons. It was a win-win situation. You got an extra ninety minutes of sleep and she got to eat sugary cereal while watching TV.

After you woke up, Marcus came over to your small apartment. He had wanted you and Lizzy to move in with him for the longest time, but you kept holding off. You wanted to wait until you married to make that transition for yourself and your little girl. Marcus understood, but he regularly reminded you that the offer was always open.

“How are my two favorite girls?” he asked when he walked in the door.

“Marcus!” Lizzy lept from her spot on the couch to rush into his arms. “Guess what? Guess what? GUESS WHAT?”

“What? What? What, my dizzy Miss Lizzy?”

“I lost a baby tooth last night!”

“You did?” he replied with feigned surprise. He looked at you with a knowing smile. You had texted him the night before sharing Lizzy’s excitement.

“Yeah! And - and - Mom told me to leave the tooth under my pillow. I did and guess what? The tooth fairy came to visit me and she left me a whole dollar!”

“Wow! That’s awesome. I think we should go to brunch to celebrate. What do you think, Y/N?”

“Please Mom, can we?”

Two adorable pairs of eyes turned on you. You were powerless.

“I think that is a wonderful idea,” you began. “Give us thirty minutes to get ready?”

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll wait...”

As you went into your bedroom to get dressed, you overheard Lizzy and Marcus sharing a conversation about all of the pancakes they were going to eat. It warmed your heart to see the man that you loved and your little girl get on so well. He treated her as if she were his own - bringing small presents, helping with homework, sharing bedtime stories, and sometimes even cooking dinner. There wasn’t much that Marcus wouldn’t do for Lizzy. The way her face lit up whenever he’d agree on an activity she suggested made him melt.

Watching the two of them together made you fall in love with him even more. If there was any doubt about Marcus being the one you wanted to spend your life with, it was washed away the moment you saw him with Lizzy.

You finished up dressing and walked out into the living room to find your daughter still dressed in her pajamas. She was sprawled out on the couch and watching a rerun of My Little Pony with Marcus. You walked in front of the television.

“Time to get dressed and ready, kiddo.” Lizzy began to whine.

“Elizabeth...”

She continued to pout.

“C’mon, Lizzy. The sooner you get dressed, the sooner we can eat all of those pancakes and drink milkshakes,” Marcus added.

“Strawberry milkshakes with extra whipped cream?”

“Anything for the prettiest girls in the world. But, you have to listen to your mom and get dressed.”

Lizzy jumped up and dashed off to her bedroom. You went over to the couch and settled down to cuddle next to Marcus. He leaned in and the two of you shared a passionate kiss.

“Mmm. That’s way better than any milkshake, Agent Pike.”

“I would agree, but I need one more just to make sure.” You giggled and the two of you shared another tender kiss.

“Yep - much better than a milkshake,” he said.

A wide smile crossed your lips. His large right hand came over to cover your left hand. The hand where your engagement ring would soon be. You had wanted to wait and wear it after both you and Marcus told Lizzy the news together. Initially you were a little worried that he would be offended at your request. As expected though, he proved himself to be the sweet and supportive man that you loved with all of your being. He understood your reasoning and was completely onboard with the plan. The two of you knew that Lizzy would be excited about the engagement, but you also knew that this would be a big change that she would have to adjust to.

“Do you want to tell her over brunch,” you asked while leaning your head on Marcus’s shoulder.

“I was thinking we’d do it somewhere else, but definitely today.”

“Hmmm. It sounds like my F.B.I. agent has a plan. Care to brief me on that?”

“That’s classified information, I’m afraid.”

“Fine, keep your secrets.” You went in to kiss his full lips again. Luck would have it that as the two of you pulled away, Lizzy came back into the living room.

She scrunched up her face in disgust. “Eww. Kissing.”

Both you and Marcus laughed.

***

Brunch was lovely. The three of you went to a small hole-in-the-wall diner that was a ten minute walk from the National Gallery of Art. Marcus swore that they had the best silver dollar pancakes in all of D.C. As usual - he was correct. The tiny pancakes were delicious and buttery. Lizzy inhaled her portion quickly. She wanted more, but you had to cut her off to make sure that she left room for a fruit cup.

“But Mom…”

“You need to eat some fruit - it will help you grow up strong.”

Lizzy pointed to her milkshake. “My milkshake has strawberries. That’s a fruit.”

Marcus roared with laughter. You gave him a look indicating that he was not helping the situation. He quieted down but still donned a large grin.

“Nice try, but it doesn’t work that way.”

Your daughter sighed, but did finish off her fruit cup without any further complaint.

At the end of the meal, Marcus recommended that you all walk off your pancakes with a visit to the sculpture garden at the National Gallery.

“That sounds awesome!”

“It does,” you told Lizzy. “But before we go, I think you should use the restroom.” She rose from her seat in your booth and skipped off to the facilities.

“I want to tell her about the engagement while we’re at the sculpture garden, if that’s okay with you.”

“Absolutely,” you nodded.

“I have something special planned and I need to ask you to trust me, Y/N. I know I am asking a lot, but -”

You interrupted him assuring him that you completely trusted him and would follow his lead. He hadn’t steered you wrong before and you know he wouldn’t start now. His body relaxed a tiny bit and his warm brown eyes softened.

“Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much.” He brought his lips to yours while holding your face. You started to feel yourself melt. The sweet taste of butter, syrup, coffee, and him were enough to make your head start spinning. You were quickly brought back to your senses when you heard a clumsy, but adorable attempt to clear a throat. The two of you pulled away to see Lizzy sitting back in her seat staring at you.

“I think we should start to head out,” Marcus suggested.

***

The three of you leisurely strolled through the sculpture garden together. Although you all had been to the garden many times, the towering statues still took your breath away. You were particularly fond of Scott Burton’s Six-Part Seating. There was just something about the contrast between the cold, hard geometric lines and the warm, soft red granite that drew you in every single time. You also were moved by the interactivity of the piece - encouraging the audience in social interaction by sitting in these large seats. As you were admiring the work, Marcus wrapped his arm around your waist and planted a small kiss on your cheek. Seeing you admire and fawn over art tended to make him go weak in the knees. There was just something about sharing a passion, like art, that was so intimate and personal.

As you continued through the garden, you noticed that Marcus was increasingly getting more antsy. You didn’t say anything as you figured that it was all part of his plan. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious about what he had in mind. You were. He was a romantic and freely admitted that he liked to make a fuss over those he loved. You also knew that he was a terrible liar and wasn’t exactly the best at keeping non-government secrets.

As you neared the end of the sculpture garden, Marcus asked if you could take a brief moment to pause. The three of you were standing together in front of a Roy Lichtenstein sculpture of a house and admired it in quiet. Lizzy was the first to speak.

“Is this stopping to smell the roses?”

“A bit,” you answered. “We’re taking some time to enjoy this sculpture that looks like a home. I’d say that counts. What do you think, sweetheart?” You looked over to your right, expecting to see Marcus and he wasn’t there. You looked over to your left and he wasn’t there either.

“Mom! Look behind you!!”

You turned around to see Marcus on one knee with an open ring box. Bystanders were stopping and looking on. You felt tears start to well up in your eyes. He had already proposed and you had said yes. However, the fact that he was doing it again and including your little girl meant the world to you.

He gave the exact beautiful speech that made you cry, although you heard it before. You said yes (again) through your tears and brought him up off his knees. As the two of you passionately kissed, he slid the engagement ring onto your finger. The onlookers began to cheer and clap.

“You and Mom are gonna get married,” exclaimed Lizzy. You nodded through your happy tears.

“But, there’s one more thing I need to do,” said Marcus. Lizzy and you shared a confused look.

Marcus descended onto his knee again, but this time in front of Lizzy. He pulled out a small burgundy box from his jacket pocket and opened it. Inside was a gold necklace with a small rose gold pendant in the shape of a rose. Lizzy’s eyes widened and her mouth fell agape.

“My dizzy Miss Lizzy,” began Marcus. “I have adored you from the first time we met. You are just like your mother - smart, beautiful, creative, and funny. I am so lucky to have you in my life. That’s why I want to spend the rest of yours protecting and loving you. Elizabeth, can I be your dad?”

“You really want to be my dad?!?!”

“Yes. One hundred percent. If you’ll have me.”

She jumped into Marcus’s arms. “Yes, yes, yes! I want you to be my dad more than anything ever.”

The small remaining group of onlookers began to aww and a few sniffles were audible. Marcus took the necklace from its box and put it on Lizzy. Happy tears freely fell between the three of you as you tightly embraced. Lizzy was the first to compose herself enough to speak.

“Mom, I think I like stopping to smell the roses.”

Tags: @zannemes

#marcus pike #agent marcus pike #marcus pike fic #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fluff #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #marcus pike x fem!reader

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years

Photo

The second part of the 100-Day trilogy, following the events of The 100-Day Relationship. Choi Juhyun and Park Seonghwa are now engaged, but are faced with the decisions as to how they both want their wedding to be, along with other important choices a couple makes after the wedding. Resurfacing exes included.

I Do

Group: ATEEZ Member: Seonghwa Pairing: Seonghwa / OC Genre: Mostly fluff, mostly cheesy romantic stuff, sliiiiiiiiight angst

Things to Note: Art Curator Hwa! A lot of crazy rich stuff, we’ll again be feeling poor in this one. Tag list is open so let me know if you would like to be updated.

Warnings: Cussing, suggestive themes (spiciness ahead!), implied smut.

Note: After eons of not updating, here it is. Finally! Get some chips ready because this is one cheesy chapter.

Tag list: @treasure-hwa

Masterlist

Chapter 2

It seemed like a pleasant surprise that Juhyun would immediately be welcomed into Seonghwa’s family. While there was a nagging thought in her head that maybe they were only like that when he was around, or when they were around other people, Juhyun tried to focus on the moment. Dinner went smoothly, albeit not without some minor embarrassing slip ups of her own, from mispronouncing a word to nearly spilling water all over her own clothes.

Seonghwa was mostly relieved while reminded of the fact that everything was going well. All of them exchanged laughs and jokes, with some snarky comments every now and then. He was happy that everyone loved Juhyun and saw her the way he did, and hopefully really knew her the way he did.

“Dessert, anyone?” Juhyun asked as everyone began clearing out their plates. “I brought macarons.”

“Oh, were those what you brought? Let’s have some then!” Seonghwa’s mother beamed, watching her take out the rectangular green box that had the name of the shop written in gold. “That looks very nice, Juhyun,” She added, seeing the different colors of the dessert all lined up in the box, including a little booklet and a piece of paper that indicated which flavor was which.

“I had my sister bring over some on her way back from overseas,” Juhyun replied as the rest of them crowded around the table.

“Overseas? Where was she coming from?” Seonghwa asked.

“Paris. She got it from the actual boutique there,” Juhyun said quietly. “Hopefully no macaron got crushed on the way here.”

“It looks picture perfect to me,” Seonghwa wrapped an arm around her waist as they each took one.

Juhyun wrinkled her nose at the macaron she got, making them chuckle as they tried theirs. “This lavender macaron...tastes like I’m eating the flower…” She took another bite of the dessert.

“Mmm, me too. I got the rose one,” Seonghwa��s sister-in-law nodded. His mother agreed as well, also having gotten the lavender.

“The flavor is really strong for a dessert like this. But it’s a very nice dessert,” Seonghwa’s mother nodded, eating the rest of the macaron she was holding.

Seonghwa leaned in and took a bite out of the macaron Juhyun was holding, making them grin at him. He also wrinkled his nose. “The lavender flavor is really strong. But it’s not rich enough to make you sick, like those kinds of desserts that you’ll only want to have once,” He said.

“I think this is something you can only eat one at a time because it’s not just fancy, but it kind of makes you feel full afterward even when it’s not heavy on the stomach,” Seonghwa’s mother said. “This is a very nice dessert, Juhyun, no doubt we’ll be eating this in the next few days.”

“Thank you, Mrs.- sorry, mom,” Juhyun bowed her head in thanks.

“Alright, it’s time to clean up. Juhyun, do you mind helping out?” She asked.

“Not at all,” Juhyun nodded, going right away into clearing up the empty glasses, while Seonghwa and his brother picked up the used plates, his sister-in-law carrying the empty containers of the side-dishes.

“Seonghwa, you and your brother clean up the rest, hmm?” His mother eyed them.

“Yes,” Seonghwa replied, following his brother back into the dining room.

As soon as the men were out of earshot, both women turned to Juhyun, who was already clearing out the plates and bowls she washed. “Have you already figured out the kind of dress you’d be wearing for the wedding?” Seonghwa’s mother asked.

“I have, it’s something that I’ve always thought I’d want for a wedding, if I ever got married,” Juhyun replied, wiping all the plates and bowls dry, while Seonghwa’s sister-in-law washed the rest of the things they used earlier. “It’s a dress similar to what the Duchess of Cambridge wore on her wedding day to Prince William.”

They looked impressed. “That sounds very elegant.”

“If I can admit, I am marrying a prince,” Juhyun smiled. “You’ve raised him to be a good man, Mrs. Park. He’s playful and funny, but he’s also the kind of person that likes to see the good in people, and he works very hard to get what he wants.”

Seonghwa’s mother smiled. “Thank you, I’d hoped Seonghwa would turn out that way, and I’m glad he did.”

“How did you two even meet?” Seonghwa’s sister-in-law asked, curiously.

“We were college classmates. We actually had almost the same classes until we went on to take our majors. We weren’t really close then even when we had classes together almost all the time, but he was quite the popular guy everyone dreamed of dating,” Juhyun shared. “But when we kind of met again at a cafe, that’s when things happened.”

“Seonghwa says you’ve probably always had a crush on him,” His mother said, in an attempt to tease.

Juhyun laughed. “I guess I always did. Even when I was with my boyfriend at the time, I was among the many girls who liked him. Even the teachers seemed to notice how popular he was, everyone would really pay attention to him whenever he recited in classes.”

Seonghwa’s mother beamed with pride. “You sound like him whenever he talks about you to us. He must be rubbing off on you.”

She felt her cheeks heat up at the revelation. “I should probably save the rest for when I write those wedding vows.”

“You probably should, we don’t want to start crying right now before the wedding’s even happening,” His sister-in-law laughed, all three of them laughing as they finished cleaning up the dining room.

Seonghwa looked at the piece of paper in front of him. He was in the room that was to be his bedroom from the way it was decorated, including the pictures of him when he was a baby to pictures of him and his brother and him during his days in school. He’d go home to this room every now and then, but this time, it may be one of his last visits as a bachelor, or at least as a guy who hasn’t yet married.

It felt surreal, the fact that his life changed in a span of two years, obviously for the better. Seonghwa wasn’t just doing well at work, he was also doing well in his personal life. It seemed like it was too good to be true, but it was what he had. Seonghwa felt like the luckiest man in the world, and all he had to do now was to write it all down on the piece of paper in front of him. How could he write everything he felt about Juhyun in one piece of paper that he was going to read out loud in front of their loved ones?

Seonghwa smiled to himself as he thought of everything they’ve been through together. From the day she went up to him in that one cafe and asked him to be her boyfriend for the entire social season to the day they realized they really fell in love with each other. He looked over at his phone, scrolling through his camera roll as he looked at their pictures.

“Knock, knock,”

He looked over to see Juhyun standing by the threshold. Seonghwa held out his hand and she took it, their fingers laced together as she approached him. “Thinking about me?” She teased.

“Yeah, what about it?” He teased back, letting go of her hand to wrap around her waist.

“So this is your room, I remember you showed me those pictures,” Juhyun pointed to a photo of him as a baby, crying in a field. “You looked so cute.”

Seonghwa grinned. “What about now? Do I still look cute?”

“Even cuter, if it makes any sense,” Juhyun laughed. “Well, there’s nothing much else to do, I’m avoiding answering any wedding-related messages coming from our friends, but I can tell you now that Jinri and Wooyoung are already inserting themselves into making the cake and catering the whole thing.”

Seonghwa laughed. “That’s the advantage of having friends who do those things. Hongjoong’s going to ask you if he could design the dresses of your bridesmaids, I’m sure of it.”

Juhyun shook her head. “He just needs to attend the wedding, he doesn’t need to design anything. Have you thought of who’s going to be your groomsmen?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking my brother, Hongjoong of course, Yeosang and Yunho too. Maybe one of them could be your brother,” Seonghwa suggested.

“I’ll ask him. He’s a bit too young for that job, though, he’s still a teenager,” Juhyun chuckled. “Maybe one of the girls’ boyfriends, or husbands. Maybe Wooyoung, or Jongho, or even Jiho and Dongwoo could be part of your groomsmen. How many are we thinking?”

“How about eight?” Seonghwa raised a brow. “Hongjoong, Yeosang, Yunho, my brother, Wooyoung, Jongho, Jiho too, and either Dongwoo or your sister’s boyfriend.”

“Dongwoo’s the best bet. Jihyun would be walking alone as the maid of honor anyway,” Juhyun nodded. “Well, there’s Hyunae, Jo, Sungyoung, Jea, your sister-in-law, Jinri, I think I need to find two more people to match up to your groomsmen. I think I’ll ask two of my cousins, my nicer cousins, that is.”

“Nicer cousins?” Seonghwa chuckled.

“Yeah,” Juhyun bit her lip. “I’m sorry to say that you’ll be dealing with a bunch of airheads in my family if you get around to meeting the entire clan.”

It was something Seonghwa kept thinking about. Sooner or later, he would end up meeting the rest of Juhyun’s family, that one Choi family. But he knew that as long as Juhyun was with him, he’ll be alright. It also made him think about the day he’d get around to introducing her to his grandmother. “Airheads, huh?”

“Yeah, you still have time to call this off, you know. Save yourself from any future misery that takes the form of my relatives,” Juhyun nudged him, laughing.

Seonghwa shook his head. “I’m never calling it off, I’m marrying you and that’s final, no take backs, nothing,” He started tickling her, making her squeal and laugh, falling over on the floor, almost dragging him down on top of her.

Juhyun cleared her throat and sat up, looking up at him. “Since we’re thinking about wedding plans, how many people are we inviting and can we not invite so many?” She pouted.

Seonghwa raised a brow at the question. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I just hoped we’d have the number to 100 guests or less than that. I don’t want a big wedding, just a ceremony with people we love and actually talk to, than an event with people we hardly even speak to either separately or with each other. I really don’t want to invite a lot of my relatives, if you know what I mean.”

“Really? You really don’t want all of them there?” He asked even if he understood why.

Juhyun shook her head. “Nope, I don’t want all of them there,” She looked down for a moment. “I mean, my uncle, my dad’s older brother is very nice, but my aunt, my dad’s younger sister and the only girl in the family, is not. She’s like the devil, the devil that wears Prada and lives in Geneva and tries to hog the family home in Monte Carlo,” She huffed.

The more she talked about her relatives, the more intrigued Seonghwa got. He didn’t want to immediately assume that they were as bad as Juhyun said they were. It made him think of his own grandmother and how she was like. Seonghwa had a feeling his grandmother would be more than happy to know he married Choi Juhyun, especially as she was the type to value the family’s reputation among people in Jinju.

Seonghwa’s parents had asked to speak with Juhyun a little while later in the living room. Juhyun had a feeling she knew what they were going to say to her, or at the very least, what they would ask of her. Maybe his mother would gush about her to her husband, or maybe it would be the other way around. “Would you like some tea?” His mother asked.

“No thank you,” Juhyun replied.

“So, there is no other way to say this, is there?” Seonghwa’s father turned to his wife, who shook her head. “While we have no doubts that you would still want to marry our son no matter what, we are wondering if your parents already know? Or at least your family?” He asked.

There it was, as Juhyun had expected. “My sister knows so far, but I was planning on telling my parents about my engagement next week or this week when I return,” She said as politely as possible.

“What do you think they would say? I know people in your… financial class, can be very concerned if a person of their kind marries someone who may not be as rich as they are.”

Juhyun smiled. “There is some truth to that, Mr. Park. But I can assure you, most people in my family don’t really care about money. They may have inherited businesses and everything, but my parents most of all, know what matters the most. They just seem intimidating, that’s all,” She replied. “My sister for one, is in a relationship with a choreographer, and my mom was an office worker when she met my dad.”

Seonghwa’s parents looked pleasantly surprised. “Do you think they would approve of our son?” His mother asked this time.

“I’m sure of it. They already know about Seonghwa through my sister, it’s just only a matter of time before they find out that we’re engaged,” Juhyun said. “Please don’t worry about it. I fell in love with your son because of the kind of person he is, not because of how much he’s got in his bank account and my parents are or should be aware of that.”

Juhyun felt her eyes well up with tears at her own explanation. She was prepared to defend Seonghwa from any objections from her own family at all costs. “You’re already crying, Juhyun,” Seonghwa’s mother chuckled, handing her a tissue.

“I’m so sorry,” Juhyun laughed as well. “It’s just that Seonghwa has done more for me than I could ever explain, that’s another reason why I fell in love with him. He has a very good head on his shoulders.”

“You really love our son, don’t you?” Seonghwa’s father asked. Juhyun nodded. “He seems to have lucked out on finding someone who really loves him then.”

Juhyun smiled. “I hope I am deserving of him. If it’s not too much to admit, sometimes I think I don’t because of how good he is. But then he figures out what I’m thinking and at the end of the day, he’s just…” She shrugged.

It was his parents’ turn to look so moved and teary-eyed by her words. “Aigoo, Juhyun, you shouldn’t be like this before the wedding. Save those words for your vows, hmm?” His mother laughed.

“I hope both of you can come to meet my parents two weeks from now,” Juhyun suddenly remembered. “Seonghwa and I will let you know where. Maybe a lunch or dinner meeting would be good.”

“A lunch meeting seems better, dinner might be too late for us.”

“Great, I will let my parents know when I bring Seonghwa over to them next week,” Juhyun nodded.

“If we didn’t make it clear earlier, you two have our blessing to get married,” Seonghwa’s father said.

Juhyun felt a big weight come off her shoulders at the confirmation. Seonghwa was right after all. She didn’t need to worry.

Seonghwa had overheard what Juhyun and his parents were talking about, having stood in a shadowy part of the hall the whole time to hear what they might have wanted to say to her alone. He smiled to himself with a renewed optimism. He knew they would approve of her and now that they formally gave her their blessing, it seemed like things would be smooth on his end.

Even the things Juhyun said made him tear up a bit. While he knew Juhyun told him similar things before, hearing her say it to his parents felt like it hit home more than he thought it would. When he heard them about to part ways, he hurried back to his room, keeping the door slightly open in case he heard Juhyun go back into the guest room where she was going to stay in.

When he heard the door next to his room close, Seonghwa quietly padded towards the door and gently knocked. “Juhyun? Babe?” He called out.

“It’s open!” He heard Juhyun say and he opened the door.

Seonghwa stepped inside, a big smile reappearing on his face when he saw her. Juhyun was sitting on the edge of the bed. “So, what did you talk about with my parents?” He asked, closing the door behind him quietly.

“You, we just talked about you, and how my parents would probably take the news of us getting engaged and married in 100 days,” Juhyun said. “But mostly about you.”

“I heard,” Seonghwa said, holding both her hands as he knelt down in front of her. “I was actually listening to the whole thing. You really cried, didn’t you?” He said, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“Teary-eyed is more the word, but I meant every word of it,” Juhyun nodded. “I’ll just gush about you more on our wedding day instead, I don’t want to spoil that.”

“I should probably do the same, I haven’t written those vows yet either,” Seonghwa said.

“We’ve got 100 days to work on it. We just have to keep that in mind while we work or something,” Juhyun said softly.

Seonghwa moved to sit down next to her and captured her lips in a deep kiss, overcome with so much affection that reminded both of them of how they started their relationship. “I know we’re in my parents house and everyone’s around, but I just want to show you how much I love you,” He murmured against her lips.

Juhyun nodded and kissed him again. “I know. You think we’ll be able to be quiet?”

Seonghwa pulled away, lips curling into a grin at her question. “Challenge accepted,” He took out a small square packet from his jeans pocket. Juhyun laughed.

The following morning, Seonghwa’s mother knocked on the door of his son’s room. “Seonghwa, it’s time for breakfast,” She said. She knocked a few times when there was no answer, until she gently opened the door to find that his bed was still made, almost as if it was untouched.

She knocked on the guest room. “Juhyun? It’s time for breakfast,” She called out, knocking a few times, until she opened the door to see both of them already dressed and ready.

“Good morning, mom,” Seonghwa said, while Juhyun followed suit. His mother noticed that he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday and so was Juhyun.

“You didn’t even bother changing for bed?” She said, eyeing her son suspiciously.

“He fell asleep and I didn’t want to bother him because he looked so peaceful,” Juhyun spoke.

“Oh, I see,” Seonghwa’s mom raised a brow at them. “Save it for the wedding night, hmm? Juhyun looks a little flushed.”

“I usually get this red. It’s why I have to cover it up with makeup sometimes,” Juhyun replied.

“Both of you must’ve been so tired from the trip then. Well, it’s time for breakfast, wash up and come help when you’re ready,” She said before closing the door.

As soon as they sensed that she was out of earshot, the two of them laughed. “Maybe it was a mistake to wear these clothes again,” Juhyun laughed as she looked down at her dress.

“And you wore the black thing I like on you too,” Seonghwa kissed her forehead, smoothing out the crease on the back of the dress she was wearing. “This is the first time I had sex while my parents were around, that’s for sure.”

“Same for me too,” Juhyun giggled. “But your mom is right, we have to save this for the wedding night, hmm?” She tugged on his shirt to kiss him. “This is like what happens in those western movies, isn’t it?”

“Come on, let’s go help my parents out with breakfast, I just hope we weren’t too loud last night,” Seonghwa grinned, holding her hand and lacing their fingers together.

“You were covering my mouth the whole time, but I liked it,” Juhyun winked as she followed him, greeting his father, his brother and his brother’s wife.

“They totally did it,” Seonghwa’s brother laughed upon seeing them, keeping his voice low in case their parents heard them.

“So that was the tapping sound we kept hearing last night,” Seonghwa’s sister-in-law teased.

“Eyyy, shut up,” Seonghwa glared at him as they put down the side dishes and bowls on the table.

“The tapping sound was really the windows anyway, the blinds were hitting the windows because of the wind,” His sister-in-law said.

“Let’s sit down and have some breakfast!” His mother announced, making them all sit down at the table as the food was set down in front of them. “So, how did everyone sleep?” She asked as they tucked into the food.

“We slept well,” Seonghwa’s brother and sister-in-law both replied.

“We slept well too,” Seonghwa replied, gesturing to himself and Juhyun. “Did Juhyun tell you yesterday, you’ll meet her parents two weeks from now?”

“Oh yes, we talked about it last night. We’ll meet them for lunch,” Seonghwa’s father said.

“Wow, you’ll be meeting with Choi Jongmin,” Seonghwa’s brother gaped.

“Yes, and his wife, they’ll be your in-laws too, you know,” Seonghwa’s mother pointed out to him.

“Please don’t worry about them,” Juhyun assured them. “They’re a lot friendlier than they seem.”

“Oh, I forgot to ask. Your grandmother is aware that you are now engaged?” She turned to her youngest son.

Seonghwa swallowed the mouthful of rice he was eating in surprise. “I-I haven’t yet. I was wondering when I could break the news to her.”

“You could try now, since she’s on her way here,” Seonghwa’s father said. “She called last night and said she was planning to come over to give us more kimchi she made.”

Seonghwa gaped at the revelation. “She-she’s coming here now?”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Seonghwa’s brother got up to answer the door. True enough, it was their grandmother. Seonghwa’s grandmother was an elegantly-dressed old woman, who seemed quite youthful still despite her age. She was carrying a container full of kimchi, and the rest of them got up to greet her, Juhyun bowing especially low when she was faced with the woman herself. The woman Juhyun knew taught Seonghwa proper etiquette among many other things. “Hello, grandmother,” She said quietly.

The woman studied her face. Seonghwa cleared his throat all of a sudden. “Grandmother, this is Juhyun, my fiance,” He introduced her to the woman.

“Juhyun, is it? What’s your last name?” She asked curiously, looking at her with familiarity.

“Choi, grandmother. I’m Choi Juhyun,” She replied using all the formalities.

“You have the same exact name as that socialite in the news,” She said. “Come to think of it, you do look familiar.”

Juhyun smiled. “It is me, grandmother. I am that Choi Juhyun in the news.”

His grandmother suddenly gaped. “Oh my, you’re that Choi Juhyun?! From the Choi family?! Seonghwa, you’re marrying her?” She turned to Seonghwa.

“Yes, grandmother, I am.”

“He is,” Seonghwa’s parents nodded, seemingly stifling their pleased looks.

“Oh my, I went to the same school as your grandfather, Choi Hyungsuk! He’s a very nice man, how is he?” She said, making everyone else gape at the revelation, including Juhyun, who was taken by surprise.

“He’s doing fine. He’s just at his home now. He doesn’t really go out much anymore since my grandmother passed away,” She replied, still in disbelief that she knew her grandfather.

Seonghwa’s grandmother turned to him. “You’re marrying her?! This is very good news! This is such good news!”

“You k-knew Juhyun’s grandfather?” Seonghwa’s father couldn’t believe it either.

“Of course! He was a year above me back in middle school, but I can never forget him.”

“...He went to school in Jinju?” Juhyun asked.

“Yes he did! Before his parents took him to go to school elsewhere. Hyungsuk was a ladies man, until he met your mother of course. They were sweethearts, the campus couple, Yang Bora, who was just as nice as he was,” Seonghwa’s grandmother smiled fondly upon remembering.

Seonghwa and Juhyun chuckled. “I guess we were meant to be,” He said, and kissed her on the cheek.

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meruz · 3 years

Text

Aforementioned long ask post please excuse me while i try to figure out tumblr's new text editor. I’ll get into the art meme questions first and then the rest at the end.

Ok first of all thank you all for sending in questions! Giving me an excuse to talk hehe. I’ll address these in number order. Here’s a link to the ask meme for reference but also I’ll restate the question for ease of reading.

1. When did you get into art?

Super cliche answer but I don’t remember a time where I WASN’T the weird art kid! I started keeping a dedicated sketchbook when I was about 12? But here’s a page from my kindergarten journal about what I want to be when I grow up.

2. What art-related sites have you ever signed up for?

LOL this is a weird question. Not sure why so many people want to know. Anyways I definitely had a dA. more than one dA account. I used to browse oekakis when I was a kid but I think I was only signed up to some small ones that internet friends owned. What else...? Mangabullet,Tegakie, Paintberri, iscribble back when that was a thing, instagram if that COUNTs, I used to post art on livejournal and dreamwidth too. Patreon, I guess. Gumroad, inprnt, bigcartel, storenvy all for selling stuff.

In terms of resources.. I have a schoolism account that I’m sharing with friends. Used to take classes on coursera for free. I signed up to textures.com for work recently haha. I can’t remember if I ever had an account on posemaniacs. Did they have accounts...? I definitely used to visit all the time.

3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand.

Alright here’s me actually logging into my old deviantart account. These are from September 2008 So I was 13 years old. I don’t have a deviantart account from before then because 13 was the required age for having an account and I didn’t want to lie about my age because I wanted people to be impressed by how young yet clearly incredible at art I was LOL.

4. What defines your artistic style?

You guys are probably more equipped to answer this than me but uh... I wanna say... Focus on colors. And... a slightly heavy hand? Like confident... not always well-considered mark making HAH...

Also I think I have a pretty healthy mix of american comics/manga influences. I feel like people who are into american comics always think my art is too manga and people who are into anime/manga always think my art is too american. And I’m taking that as a good sign.

5. Do you practice other styles/have you tried other styles in the past?

I like to think I switch it up a bunch! I mean, these are pretty different, right?

I think I’ve mentioned this before but one thing I really took away from art school is that, for an illustrator at least, art style shouldn’t be consistent. Your greatest weapon is changing the aspects of your style based on the task, the emotions and message you want to illustrate etc. So depending on the project I’m working on, the fandom I’m drawing for, whether I want something to be funny or serious or dramatic, I’ll change things about my style all the time.

One thing I don’t rly post on here is really tight polished work and that’s because I do that for my day job haha. If you’re not paying me... I’m probably not gonna color in the lines.

6. What levels of artistic education have you had?

I have a whole ass diploma LOL. Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration. from the Rhode Island School of Design. And I had a great college experience tbh. Besides the student loans. If any of you guys are thinking about art school feel free to e-mail or message me questions or concerns, I’ll be happy to help. Be as honest as I can be.

7. Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.

heres the wandavision kids. Uhh what else do I have...I feel like I’m rummaging for loose change here...

assorted valentines prep doodles

8. What is your favourite piece that you have done?

Well, obviously this is gonna change all the time and generally it’s gonna be my most recent piece LOL. So yeah, why the hell not. I’ll say it’s this one. I have a pretty short memory which I count as a blessing for an artist. I don’t dwell that long on older work and it keeps me moving forward.

10. What do you like most about your art?

I like that it’s something that only I would make! I had this thought fairly recently and I wrote it down in my sketchbook, it’s pretty cheesy and rambling but it felt revolutionary at the time:

So yeah. I like my art best when it’s the most me and for me. And I like it least when it feels like I’m just making something for social media or for other people’s expectations or whatever.

14. What do you like drawing the most?

Kids in baggy clothing are like my go-to LOL idk if that’s obvious. but also I like being challenged so lately I’ve really loved drawing multi-character compositions, environments, weird angles, etc.

oh i LOVE drawing the underside of shoes lol. And bandages. People that are kinda beat up.. I think it comes from getting a bunch of cuts all the time. I’m always patching myself up and I want to patch characters up too.

15. What do you like drawing the least?

mmm I try to find something to like in every drawing but lets see... I don’t like doing commissions of people’s dogs. Just because it’s normally like... a family friend and my mom volunteered me without my consent and I don’t even really know what they’re expecting me to draw and I don’t even get to meet the dog. Also I’m not that great at dog anatomy. Trying to learn though.

18. What is your purpose for drawing?

This could have a million answers! Uhhh to GIT GOOD??? But also to express myself... and also to make money... I mean it depends on what the drawing IS. I draw fanart mostly to connect to people in the fandom so if you ever see me drawing fanart please take it as like an open invitation to talk to me about the character haha.

20. How would you rank your art? (poor, mediocre, good, etc.)

Good!!! I have a lot of self-confidence primarily born out of ignorance and a short attention span. If I don’t think too hard about how many other artists are mindblowingly unfathombly good... its easy to think I’m good too! LOL

In all seriousness though, I think the opinion a person has of their art is like a crazy balancing act, right? Like you have to think you suck enough to want to get better but also you have to think you’re good enough to not want to give up. I think we’re all walking that line, I know I am! But also I’m a glass half-full type of person so. Most of the time I feel good about it.

22. List at least one of your “artspirations.”

This is a good question because I’ve been trying and failing to put together one of those “influence map” memes for like a full month now. What’s giving me a hard time is I feel like none of these are actually really obvious “““influences”““ in my art? Like it’s hard to see a lot of them in the work I make...? But idk maybe you guys’ll see what I can’t.

And these are just a couple! God there’s so many more. I could talk about other artists for ages, from all different genres of art. Daumier, Rockwell like every illustrator out there, Dana Gibson, Alex Toth, Hiroshi Yoshida, a lot of the Brandywine School. Lots of current working artists too, Karl Kerschl, frikkin Masashi Kishimoto lol, Jake Wyatt, Richie Pope, Edouard Caplain, Matt Cook, Sachin Teng, - lots of big internet artists, Sophie Li, Freddy Carrasco, Milliofish, Angela Sung... like all my friends from art school too. I could just keep going but I’ll stop for now lol.

24. Do you have a shameful art past? (recolour sprite comics, tracing art, etc.)

I mean if that’s how we’re defining shameful?? sure LOL. It’s not sprite comics but I used to do pokemon sprite recolors all the time. And I used to trace manga panels and color them... Granted this was all when I was like under 12 yrs old so it’s not even embarrassing. Can you really call it shameful when a 7 year old wets the bed or whatever? Not really. In fact some of these are cool as fuck. Look

25. Draw a picture!

Man I’m so tired now but here.

I used to get a lot of compliments for drawing people smiling lol but I don’t think I’ve drawn a lot of smiling lately.. here’s proof I’ve still got it.

OK MEME DONE. onto the rest.

I read this ask first thing when i opened my computer in the morning and it made me really emotional.. I’m so glad my sketches could help you!!

I think a lot of artists on social media talk about the struggle of making art but imo not enough people talk about the joy! Like I know it’s corny but. I really meant what I said at the beginning of that sketchbook about re-contextualizing art around process and progress > product and perfection. I think its super important..! The strength of messy, unfinished, and energetic art! For the feeling of it, for the love it!

That's crazy!!! I hope you like 'em. The whole line of x-books is really good rn imo.

Hi! I totally have the answer for digital stuff on my faq lol. But in terms of drawing on paper.. it varies! I tend to use sketchbooking and any on-paper doodling I do as a way to loosen up/warm-up or experiment. But right now my go-to aresenal is:

from top > bottom

- kuretake no.55 doublesided brush pen

- tombow fudenosuke

- muji 0.38 ballpoint

- medium size poscas

- grey tombow double brush pens

- good ol bic mechanical pencil

not EXACTly sure which inking you referring to from my sketchbook but if I had to take a guess it'd probably be the kuretake no55. That's been my main inker, lately. Great for sketching with the thin end too.

You can print out and eat my art if you like. Just please don't mass produce or re-sell. <3

Thanks! I've come to accept that my art is always gonna be sort of gestural and painty naturally. It's getting it to tighten up enough to be legible that's hard lol...

uh yeah lol I agree actually. I think yolei is great.

I assume these asks are related? LOL

1) Yeah totally true. I love David.

2) I don’t take requests, sorry! But if you want to commission me to draw Legion i would be MORE than happy to. Just e-mail me at [email protected].

<33333333333333333333333333

#ask #anonymous

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hphmmatthewluther · 3 years

Text

The Amortentia Incident

Merula was only in the Potions Classroom because she’d left her bag there. Snape was nowhere to be seen, and so she’d taken the initiative and unlocked the door on her own to get her bag before the next lesson. It was lunchtime now, and so she had some time to get it before her next lesson. She scowled. As far as she was concerned, it was that idiot Matthew Luther’s fault. He’d clearly distracted her, probably apologising to someone, and made her forget to take her bag with her. It couldn’t have been anything else he’d done, right?

She made her way towards their table, and grabbed her bag. Nothing was missing from it, which was a relief. She slung it around her shoulder and was about to leave, when she noticed one of the cauldrons was still on. It was by a student’s table and was still being heated. Merula cautiously stepped closer to it. Her attention really had been off today. For as she peered into the potion, she missed the label on the cauldron in Professor Snape’s handwriting, which read: “IMPURE- MUST BE DISINTEGRATED”. But she was too busy thinking about Matthew’s stupid face to notice. It was as if he always wanted to say something, but for whatever reason was too frightened to say it.

Merula put it down to her intimidating nature and examined the potion in the steaming hot cauldron. It was a reddish-pink hue, and it swirled without a spoon stirring it. It looked familiar, but Merula couldn’t quite place it. Even without smelling it, the aroma caught her nose, practically forcing her to sniff. It was sickeningly sweet, as if the potion were several gallons of melted chocolate. Now Merula felt hungry, and a little disoriented. Then, something strange happened, even by Hogwarts standards.

The smoke of the potion started billowing out at a faster rate, up into the air of the Potions Classroom. Merula was beginning to panic, fearful of Snape’s reaction to her screwing up this potion, whatever it was. She moved forward, about to turn off the heat, when she heard something. Laughter. From a voice she recognised. Coming from the cauldron. She watched in awe as the smoke converged, tinted by the reddish-pink, until two gleaming green eyes appeared in midair. Then, around them, a head of hair that went down past the face’s jaw, but not to the shoulders. From there, arms appeared, with hands fit for a musician. Merula couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“...Luther?” she said finally.

The smoky figure smiled, tilting its head to the side. “Who else, Songbird?”

Merula’s cheeks went pink at the mention of the nickname. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but she was beginning to piece things together. For one thing, there were roses on the table nearest the cauldron, as well as a note with “fifteen times counterclockwise” written and underlined several times. This was a Love Potion, but clearly a poorly made one. Love Potions, didn’t do...this, right?

“What’s wrong, Merula?” Matthew asked, “You seem...perturbed.”

Merula looked up at Matthew, but had to quickly look away. She had never seen that look in his eyes before. “N...None of your business!” she snapped.

Instead of flinching, as Matthew normally would have done, he leant forward. “Oh, Songbird, if something’s troubling you, then it’s my business.”

Merula gulped. She felt rooted to the spot, as Matthew examined her. She saw that his hair was slightly longer than usual, and was somehow defying gravity in that it ebbed and flowed like waves of water.

“What do you want?” she asked, curious as to what this thing was.

Matthew chuckled, as his smoky form moved out of the cauldron and towards Merula. “I’d like an awful lot of things...you in my arms...your hands running through my hair...but I’d settle for just a kiss.”

She went very very pink at that. Merula shook her head, hoping the hallucination would vanish. She could no longer hide her blush, but she was fairly confident her knees weren't going to give way...yet.

“Oh, and if there’s...anything you want from me, I’d, ah, be more than happy to oblige.”

Merula tried to martial her thoughts, but all she could think about was how soft Matthew’s voice was. Sure, it was always relatively...nice...but now it was as if his voice was a wind travelling through a forest...an image only reinforced by Matthew’s bright green eyes, in which Merula swore she could see the outline of trees. This train of thought, however, was brought to an emergency stop as she felt his translucent arms wrap around her. She let out a quiet squeal, that wasn’t completely out of shock.

“Nnng...if I find out this is actually you, Luther, I swear, I’ll...” she began, but stopped as she came face to face with him yet again. “What potion even does this sort of thing?”

“Mmm, Maybe I know how it happened...maybe...” Matthew mused.

“...And are you going to tell me?” Merula asked.

“...I would if you kissed me.” Matthew whispered.

That pink feeling returned as Merula looked away again. “Come on, Songbird, who’s gonna know?” Matthew asked, swirling around her. Merula hated how tempting his offer was. Sure, she’d started thinking about this sort of thing, but Matthew Luther? Her rival? She admitted he was somewhat attractive, but that was to be expected for a rival of someone like her. Still, it did help that his voice was rather soft, she admitted, and having him act like this made her feel...special. It was enough to make part of her wish the real Matthew would treat her like this...almost. But when she looked at this vision of her rival, at the forests in his eyes, something was missing. Not fear, but caution. Matthew was always able to sense danger or if something was off, like some sort of deer. But that caution, which had saved both his own neck and Merula’s, was absent. Focusing on it was the only way Merula could ground herself again.

“I appreciate the offer, but I have places to be, Luther.” she said flatly, turning to leave.

“If you ever want to speak to me again...” Matthew said, fading as Merula backed away from the cauldron, “stir twelve times anticlockwise then thrice clockwise, and add more thorns than petals. I’ll be there...waiting on that kiss.”

Merula sat down in the Great Hall and quickly ate her lunch. She couldn’t get him out of his head. And when she saw Matthew, the real Matthew, sit down to eat his lunch, she felt like going over and asking for him to hold her. But she couldn’t do that. And she had no plans of making that imperfect Love Potion anytime soon. Nevertheless, she wrote down the words “More thorns than petals, 12 anti then three clockwise” in a box and highlighted them. Just in case she ever needed to remember.

(inspired by @nikyiscreepy ‘s brilliant art!)

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm fic #merula snyde #matthew luther #luthersnyde

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

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Learning to Love (Preath x Adopted Teen!Reader)

Request: could you do something where christen and Tobin adopt teenage r whose been through a lot and shows her how to accept love or something fluffy and angsty like that

Pt 2

Author’s Note: So this was really difficult for me to write for some reason. it’s also super long, but I wanted to include several learning moments. I’m going to put a warning on this for mentions of abuse, but nothing graphic. I hope you enjoy this! Send me Requests, Questions, or if you just wanna say Hi! Let me know what you think, your comments mean the world to me.

You woke with a start, a cold sweat covering your entire body, your breathing heavy, and your brain trying to remember where you were. You clutched at the old hoodie you were wearing, pulling the collar to your nose and breathing in Tobin’s soothing scent.

You had stolen the Thorns sweater awhile ago and never given it back. You found comfort in one of the several items that had become your own the 8 months that you had been with the women.

You had immediately clicked with Tobin. Her overall laid back demeanor had set you at ease. Your mutual love of art always gave you talking points, whenever you actually felt like talking. But she never pushed, she was just as comfortable in silence as she was when you were conversing about art.

It had taken you a little longer to become comfortable around Christen. She was the observant one. The one who always knew when you weren’t telling them the whole truth. The one who always pressed you to explain why you felt the way that you did, and at first that had unnerved you. She wasn’t pushy, but she had a way of getting you to open up that terrified you.

You were like Tobin in the fact that you were never very good with words. You didn’t know how to articulate your feelings verbally, and the more… positive emotions confused you. Your parents had both been drug addicts, more interested in their respective highs than your actual wellbeing, or teaching you what affection was. You had only been removed from the home after your mother had tried to sell you to an undercover cop in exchange for drugs. You had spent the next 10 years bouncing around through the foster system, with each home only building on the scars that the last had left behind.

Then by some miracle, you had met Christen and Tobin, who seemed determined to teach you about the happier emotions. The emotions that you didn’t understand. Hell, you had nearly jumped out of your skin the first time one of them tried to touch you. The going was slow, but it wasn’t in their nature to give up.

You glanced at the clock, sighing at the blinking 4:40 that you found there. It was too early to be up, but you didn’t know if you could go back to sleep after your dream (memory?). You sighed, sliding out of bed and heading for the one room in the apartment that you knew could help you. The room that both women had made sure you knew was open 24/7 the moment they found out about your propensity for art.

You were so engrossed in your project that you didn’t hear the door to Tobin’s studio open. She looked you over from the door, watching as you traced one of her canvases with a dark charcoal color. The painting before you was striking. A perfect rendition of a man's face over a cowering form. The only happy portion of the canvass was a warm red in the distance.

“Hey kid, what ya up to?” She asked quietly, don’t her best not to startle you. You jumped anyway, dropping the paintbrush with a loud crash.

“I’m sorry I- I-I didn’t…” you stuttered turning to face her, your cheeks very red. She held up a hand to stop you. She wanted to say that this response was unusual, but it wasn’t. Your go-to was to immediately apologize for whatever.

“Slow down kid, we told you that you could use this room whenever you wanted,” She soothed, moving to stand beside you and rubbing soothing circles on your back. Your shoulders relaxed, and your gaze returned to your masterpiece.

“Okay,” You breathed out.

“It’s really good,” She said in awe, taking in the detail of the piece. Your lips twitched up slightly, and Tobin was glad you didn’t try and fight her on it. You weren’t used to complements without strings, and they were still teaching you to accept them.

“Thanks, I couldn’t get it out of my head,” You mumbled, biting your lip, shaking your head slightly. You ran a hand through your hair, and Tobin resisted the urge to laugh when a red paint line followed the path of your hand.

“Nightmare?” She questioned as casually as she could. Yes, she had read your file, but she wanted to hear about your experiences from you when you were ready. So far the only thing you had told them was that the man you kept drawing was father number 4.

“Mmm,” You hummed back, tilting your head to the side.

“You know you can always come to get me or Chris if you’re too scared to go back to sleep,” Tobin asked for what probably was the millionth time. You gave her a slight nod. People always said that but the moment you started asking for things, the moment you became more work than what you were worth, they would throw you away.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you, and you felt the urge to finally tell her more about the painting. About why he was always so much bigger than you. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. Tobin shot you an encouraging smile.

“Hey, you two breakfast-“Christen’s voice called out before you could divulge any secretes, before cutting itself off “whoa baby this is fantastic,” She said the second she saw the painting.

You pulled your lips into a tight line and nodded your thanks, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a hug. You buried your face in her shoulder, taking in gulps of her scent, allowing it to soothe you. She wound her arms tighter around you, running careful fingers through your hair.

You had taken a long time to warm up to her, but you loved her cuddles, and this was a typical good morning gesture after a hard night.

“Can I ask you a question?” Christen questioned softly, her and Tobin’s hands running circles on you back.

“Hmmm,” was your only response to her, not willing to leave your new favorite hiding spot yet.

“You’ve told us about this part, but what’s this?” She asked, pointing to the bright spot that was a new addition to the image the women had become very familiar with. You had known this part was coming. It was part of your therapy, to explain some parts of the painting to them. It was difficult, but in the end, it helped. It made everything a little less scary.

You but your lip in thought. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what the bright light was.

“It’s-, I’m always trying to get to it. I know that whatever’s behind the door is… safe? That’s not the word, it’s more than that it’s… I don’t know how to explain it,” you stuttered out, furrowing your eyebrows in concentration. You were good at naming the negative emotions, but oftentimes the happy ones evaded you.“I don’t know what’s behind it, only that I need it,”

“That’s ok baby, wanna come eat some pancakes?” Christen sent you a blinding smile, and Tobin Laughed as your face lit up. You loved pancakes.

“Can I finish it?” You asked hesitantly. You hated leaving things half-done.

“Yeah baby, come find us when you’re done,” Tobin nodded, patting your back before they both took their leave.

You watched them go. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you knew they cared for you in a way you had never experienced before.

****

Camp was an… experience, and meeting so many new people was frightening, but Tobin and Christen had kept their promise to always protect you. The team had been understanding about your aversion to touch and never pressured you to join in their shenanigans. They also gave you more people to draw.

You sighed leaning back against the bench that was acting as your backrest, pulling your knees closer to your chest and digging your feet into the grass of the practice field. You rested the black sketchbook that had always been your companion on your knees, bringing it closer to your face. You held your pencil between your teeth, your eyes flicking between the fine lines sketched on the page and the two women who were depicted. You were sure that the realistic picture was almost done, but something was missing. Something you couldn’t put your finger on.

“What ya go there kiddo,” Christen asked, stopping several feet away from you and gesturing to the space beside you. You sent her a careful nod, and she sat down a few feet away from you on the turf.

That was one thing that you appreciated about the women, they always came down to your level to make you feel more comfortable.

“It’s Becky and Alyssa, but something’s not right,” You mumbled, scooting closer to the woman, who smiled softly at you.

“I’m not a sketch artist, but I could check it out if you want,” She offered, bringing her hand up to rub your back. Her smile widened when you didn’t immediately flinch away at the contact.

It was a slow process, but little by little they were showing you how nice human touch could be. You loved morning cuddles, but you only liked touches that you initiated. You bit your lip in thought and sent the woman a very tiny nod, before carefully sliding over the book. A small gasp left her lips when eyes landed in the pencil sketch.

“This is incredible,” Christen said in awe, her fingers running lightly over the near-perfect replicas of her teammates. You shrugged, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Something’s missing, but I don’t know what. Like it doesn’t feel right,” You murmured, glaring at the sketch in frustration. The picture was missing the key element that would make it come to life on the page. You didn’t know what it was, so how could you add it?

Christen glanced up at you. You rested your chin on your knees, hugging your legs, knowing that there would be no way of completely getting out of this conversation. You didn’t typically bring up your feelings, and Christen wasn’t one to let that go.

“Why doesn’t it feel right?” She questioned softly, bringing her hand up to gently smooth out the wrinkles in your forehead, and run her thumb down your cheek. You sighed and tilted your head into her hand just slightly.

“It’s just…” you stuttered, trying to find the words to describe the women. It wasn’t just one thing. It was how their bodies always seemed connected, even from across the field. How their eyes always seemed to be on each other. How they touched each other with such care. “The way they’re so… drawn to each other.” You finished after a few seconds, shaking your head. It was so much more than that. It was an extremely deep connection that went beyond simple care. “I don’t understand how…” You trailed off, pinching your space between your eyes.

Your sketch was missing the connection between the two. The ease they clearly felt with each other. The amount they… cared.

“They love each other,” Christen responded gently, watching your reaction very carefully. Your lips formed an even tighter line. Your childhood had shown you that love didn’t exist, but the thing between the women was so defined. So alive and vivid. Could it be love?

“Hmm,” you hummed, pulling the book back towards you, scratching behind your ear. Maybe it was love.

Tobin watched you from afar, her lips quirking up at how well you were doing with Chris.

“She’s a little shy, but she seems to be doing ok with all of us,” Ash mumbled, standing beside her and watching your interaction.

“Kid has had it rough,” Tobin husked out. How someone could treat a child the way you were treated, she would never understand. Hell, you had been removed from one of the foster homes for suspected poisoning, and you were petrified to eat anything you didn’t open yourself. Your file was as almost as tall as a toddler, and she wondered how you had slipped through the system for so long.

“We don’t doubt that,” Ali said gently, rubbing Tobin’s shoulder in a soothing fashions

“She seems pretty close to Chris though,” Ashlyn smiled when you leaned into Christen’s hand, the comfort you took from the contact obvious from the look on your face.

“Sometimes,” Tobin shrugged. It was odd. There were moments where you were completely open with them, and then two seconds later you would throw all your wall up again.

“She draws a lot,” Kelley pointed out, joining the three women in their observation of you.

“It’s the only way she knows how to express herself,” Tobin hummed shrugging.

“That’s not surprising,” Kelley said, and all the women turned to look at her.

“she was probably punished for showing any emotions at all,” Ash added with a thoughtful look on her face, and Tobin nodded. She had seen the scars, both physical and mental. Though you hadn’t unpacked them all with them, it would be impossible to hide the marks that would be with you for the rest of your life. It was also something your therapist had told them both in the beginning.

“All I know is that it gives us a way to start that conversation without making her too uncomfortable” Tobin shrugged. It was true, you wouldn’t tell them what was bothering you until it was drawn on a page. It was your process and that was ok. They were showing you that feelings were ok. “She’s come a hell of a long way,”

****

Your eyes traced the faces sketched upon the page, your eyebrows furrowing because there was something yet again missing. Your dinner sat untouched on the plate in front of you, as you were far too focused on your drawing of the two blond women.

You felt the presence behind you before you saw her, and you didn’t mind. Yes, Emily was a little hyper, but she was funny and sweet, and you had known her and Lindsey longer than you had known most of the other women. You had gotten to know them on the many times you had accompanied you m-. Tobin. The many times you had accompanied Tobin to practice. The same went for Kelley.

“Holy shit! Tobs was right, you do have some skill!” She exclaimed, placing two hands on your shoulders. You jumped at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut, dropping your sketchbook on the table with a thump. The noise lost in the general chatter in the room (though Tobin and Christen did send you a worried look from where they were talking with Alex and Kelley.)

“Disonny, remember we had this talk?” Lindsey said as she appeared on your other side, sending Emily a disdainful look. The women knew that you didn’t like surprise touches, it was one of the many rules that Tobin and Chris had given them.

“Oh, right. Sorry kid. But like that drawing is fire,” Emily jumped back quickly, sending you a regretful look. She pointed to the chairs next to you, and you nodded with a small smile.

“It’s not right…” You murmured, returning your attention to the drawing, biting your lip.

“What do you mean, it looks just like us?” Lindsey asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the picture of her and Emily. You had drawn it during the tactics meeting. There was just something about the way Lindsey’s hand was placed in Emily’s back, and how Emily was watching her instead of Vlatko that had been irresistible to you.

“It’s missing something,” You grumbled shaking your head. You missed the glance that the two women shared. They knew that Chris and Tobin were trying to teach you to open up about your feelings.

“Like what?” Lindsey asked carefully. Placing a gentle hand on your back and rubbing soothing circles like she had seen Christen do about a million times.

“It’s something about the eyes. They get this glint when you look at each other,” You said, turning to the two women. Your hands moved animatedly as you tried to explain the thing that you knew was missing. The thing that you didn’t have a name for, but you could see clear as day. The thing that you just couldn’t capture on paper.

“It’s because we love each other,” Emily explained as gently as she could, and you tensed. As far as you were concerned, love was a myth. A thing people used to give others hope or to justify their despicable actions. Dads 3 and 9 had proved that to you with their twisted definitions, and all of the families that had packed you up and shipped you off had destroyed any understanding of the concept. To think that someone would have such a deep level of care for another, only expecting the same in return was mind-boggling to you.

“Love doesn’t exist,” You huffed, turning away from Emily’s kind eyes, and running a frustrated hand through your hair. The women resisted the urge to sigh. This wasn’t an uncommon occupancy, but your absolute denial was still a little disheartening, as everyone was doing their damndest to show you differently.

“You’re allowed to feel that way, but I’m going to disagree with you,” Lindsey murmured, carefully untangling your hand from your hair and holding it in her own. You tended to take out your frustrations on yourself. A habit, among many others, that the women were working to break.

“How do you know you love her and not something else?” You questioned, staring at the two women. The let your challenging tone roll off of them. They knew you had some deep-seated beliefs and that it took time to change them.

“I care for Lindsey so deeply that I would do anything for her,” Emily started, grabbing her girlfriends hand and looking at her with so much devotion it almost took your breath away.

“I always want to be around Emily. I want to protect her and make her feel better when she’s sad,” Lindsey finished, an equally adoring glint in her eyes. What you would give to be able to capture those looks perfectly on paper. Do be able to do that look justice.

“I don’t, I just-,” You stuttered, your eyebrows furrowing. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to figure out what you were trying to say. Tobin and Christen were always trying to make you feel welcome to make you feel better. Could that be what they meant? “She makes you feel safe?” You asked hesitantly.

“The safest I’ve ever felt,” Lindsey said solemnly, and Emily nodded her agreement. You glanced over to the table where Christen was sending you a questioning smile. You smiled back.

Lindsey and Emily shared another look, realizing that your doubts about love had nothing to do with them, but were instead about how you were feeling about your moms.

“That’s how they make me feel,” You mumbled, looking down, almost ashamed. Tobin and Christen had done nothing but try and get you to open up to them. To make you feel safe and comfortable, and you couldn’t get a grip and call them Mom or tell them that you cared about (loved?) them.

“For the record, they have the same glint when they look at you,” Lindsey whispered into your ear, pulling you into a hug. You gave her a tiny, not quite believing nod. You wanted to believe her, but how could anyone love a messed up 13-year-old like you?

****

You woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in your hotel room bed. Your heart was racing so fast that you thought it might beat right out of your chest. You clenched your eyes shut in an attempt to rid the images out of your mind. To rid the smell of his breath, that evil glint in his eyes, or the pain he had inflicted on your lower half from your brain.

“Hey baby doll, you alright?” Tobin’s sleepy voice broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, and you bit down hard on your hand to prevent the sob from leaving your lips.

“Hey, Y/n are you alright?” She said, flipping on the light, which startled Christen awake. They both took in your shaking form. Your face was pale, and you were rocking back and forth in the bed. You stared unseeingly at them, almost as though you were in a different world.

The two women immediately jumped into action, Tobin rushing to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom, and Christen slowly moving to sit beside you on your bed. Her hand came up to gently run circles on your back.

“Y/n, baby,” She murmured, afraid that she would startle you more than you already were. Your eyes snapped to her and you shook your head rapidly, tears flowing freely down your face. You leaned further into her touch, collapsing in her arms. She pulled you closer to her, rocking you back and forth as you sobbed into her chest. Tobin ran a comforting hand through your hair when she returned, unwilling to coax you out of your hiding spot in her wife’s chest.

She held you tight as if to reassure you that she was there, and she was never leaving. She and Tobin shared several worried looks, unsure of how to proceed. It was rare that you showed them any emotions besides happiness and frustration. They knew you had nightmares, but they had never been involved in the aftermath of one before.

They half you between them, cooing soothing words and reassurances into your hair until your crying slowed.

“Hey, baby can you look up at me?” Tobin asked softly, running the warm cloth over your features when you glanced up at her. You sighed into the touch, unused to the warm feeling that settled in your chest.

“Can you tell us what’s going on?” Christen murmured into your hair, never stopping her comforting rubbing on your back or her rocking back and forth. You rapidly shook your head, returning to your hiding place. You knew that they had read your file before they adopted you, but reading a second-hand account of events and hearing it were two very different things.

“Why not baby? It might help to get it off your chest,” Tobin pressed just a little, and she saw your shoulders deflate.

“You won’t want me anymore,” You said so quietly into Christen’s shoulder that it was almost inaudible. The women gasped.

“We will never not want you Kid” Tobin declared firmly, as Christen’s rocking picked up to ebb the tears that had started to flow again.

A choked “Why?” left your lips, muffled by the soft material of Christen’s shirt, and you felt both women tense. You had been to hell and back, and you just couldn’t understand why the women hadn’t given up on you yet. Perhaps it was their competitive nature. Always wanting to overcome every challenge they face. But perhaps it was something else, the little voice in the back of your brain said.

“Because we love you,” Christen whispered into your ear, and your tears increased.

“You’re an amazing kid, and you bring so much light to our lives, despite all of the shit that you’ve been through,” Tobin added, wrapping her arms around both of you. You sighed into their touch.

“Will you stay with me?” You whimpered softly. They made you feel safe, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep without them.

“Always kiddo,” Tobin hummed, pulling the covers back and allowing Chris to maneuver you had her underneath them before joining you. You sighed deeply, relaxing at the feeling of both of them. You felt so safe, so protected between them. You felt… something so much greater than care. Something that you had been avoiding.

As you drifted off you released a soft “love you mom and mama,”. You missed the shit-eating grins that took over both women’s faces, as they had been waiting for this moment for 8 months. The moment where you would finally accept their love, accept their invitation into their family. But you did catch the soft “love you too baby,” that came from both women.

Things weren’t perfect, but they were heading that way. Sure, it would be a challenge, but they would never give up on you. You were theirs and they were yours forever and always.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #preath x reader #preath imagine

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ihni · 4 years

Text

You know how it’s easier to remember one bad comment than a hundred good ones?

Well. @granpappy-winchester:

1. I love your art.

2. It always makes me smile.

3. You were one of the very first artists I commissioned and I still love that piece to pieces.

4. I have stickers of yours on my fridge.

5. I have a pillow with your art on it and I won’t let anyone sit on it.

6. I also have a notebook with your art on it which I used as a diary so I could watch it every day.

7. I have TWO BOOKS that I have printed that has your art on the covers of them (I asked permission), and I feel all soft inside when I see them.

8. Your art is so expressive.

9. You have so many different styles, yet all of them is so YOU, and I am insanely impressed and jealous of that. <3

10. Your anatomy is ON POINT even though it’s stylized.

11. Your lines are so ... flowy.

12. They have so much LIFE.

13. I don’t understand how you can create such expressive art in flowy lines, but you do, and I can’t do anything but be grateful of it.

14. The way you colour makes me make NOISES when I see it.

15. Seriously, it’s like some kind of noise is punched out of me when I see some of your pieces. Because you work with colours in a way that I can only dream of, and the way you put them together and MAKE them go together is beautiful.

15. The shades of their skin, and the blushy faces. Makes me want to reach out and touch.

16. AND THE DETAILS! THAT YOU ONLY SEE IF YOU ZOOM IN! Like Billy’s freckles. Mmmm. <3

17. You draw Billy so muscly (yes that’s a word now) and Steve so lean at times and I love it.

18. SHOULDERS. And THIGHS. ‘nuff said. Yes, that’s a compliment.

19. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIR. I am impressed with ANYONE who can draw hair, but the way you do it is exqui... ex... that word that I can’t spell that means LOVELY and RARE and BEST and goes with the italian “mwah” hand gesture and eyes closed in bliss.

20. Body hair. The fact that you add it at all is a favorite thing of mine, and also how you draw it is A+

21. The expressions on the faces you draw. Ugh, to have that skill. Seriously, you draw such wonderful expresions that each grin, each fallen face, each glance just feels true to whatever character you draw it on.

22. Fashion baby. You draw clothes so good, and I would totally hire you as an illustrator if I had to make a collection at some point. That’ll never happen, but I WOULD.

23. How do you draw noses that makes me want to BITE them? Noses are awful! But you make them cute from ALL angles!

24. Oooh and speaking of cute - the red ears?? Yeah. Mmm.

25. I know I mentioned details before, but it’s worth mentioning again because with your art, I find that I have to zoom in and really look, and every time I do, I discover something new. A tattoo here, a piercing there, a piece of jewellry there ...

26. The way you express feelings with stuff like little hearts and stuff. Simple, but so effective.

27. Billy’s scars. Okay everyone knows I love them but the way YOU draw them, makes me wanna touch. And I don’t wanna touch a whole lot of people.

28. (The scars on Billy’s hands that you sometimes draw are my favorite, and deserves a mention of their own.)

29. I’ve never been able to draw hands, myself, but the way you do it? You make it look so EASY even though it’s not. Mmm, lovely veiny worker’s hands. <3

30. The tape boys that you designed for the Summer of ‘85 zine are so cute and have stolen my heart. <3

31. Billy’s eyes and lashes. That is all.

32. The fucking MAGIC you work with colours. I KNOW I mentioned it before but that was the way you worked with colours in pieces ... this time I mean the way you can just slap shapes and colours on things or behind things and it TRANSFORMS pieces, you know? Like the one you did with Billy and Steve in horrible workout wear (that piece added two years to my lifespan). Background? Star and colours, and immidiately it is transformed into something I want to EAT. Also the one year anniversery of Billy’s death drawing. COLOURS. LOOK AT THEM COLOUR COMBINATIONS.

33. No one draws 80s fashion like you do.

34. No one draws wet hair like you do (one day I shall commission you do draw the boys in the rain, just you wait ...)

35. Have we talked about tattoos yet? No? GREAT. Because that is another thing I love about your art. How you just ... play with tattoos, and how it looks so GOOD. Billy with all those tattooes and piercings? The flowers and the colours? The way you sometimes draw him with a variation of his tattoo? I love.

36. SPEAKING OF, YOU DREW BILLY IN THE COLLAR AND I WILL NEVER NOT BE GRATEFUL TO YOU FOR THAT.

37. The way you work with light and shadow to show the eye where one should look in a picture is amazing and I wish I could live in your brain when you draw it.

38. On that note, the way that some of your highlights are just WHITE in some pieces (the one where they’re in the bathtub and the one where they’re smoking on the pool chairs) makes my heart purr. Yes. Purr. You read that right.

39. On THAT note (the piece with the pool chairs and the orange) - you are a wizard with colours, we’ve established that, but you are ALSO a wizard with a limited palette and one day I aspire to know a TENTH of what you can do with like black and white and one more colour.

40. The comic that you drew for a holiday exchange is still something I go back to and read now and then, and the way you planned that out is etched into my brain at this point.

41. Like, the car on the road being used as a divider of sorts. Fucking genius.

42. Smoke. Smoking is bad for you but you always draw smoke so that I want to try to catch it between my fingers. So flowy, like it has a life of its own.

43. I know I’ve mentioned skin colour before but also the DIFFERERENCE in skin colour between Billy and Steve? Yes. Good.

44. You can create such tender pieces that I feel like my heart is about to burst when i see them.

45. you can also create such FUNNY pieces that I laugh out loud.

46. Whatever mood you want to capture, you capture. And you make us feel it too. Thank you for that.

47. The Harringrove fandom is so lucky to have you, honestly. I am so grateful that you’re here.

48. You are a very talented illustrator, and now I’m not even talking about how you draw the boys. I am talking about your skills at creating graphics, illustrations, and other such things.

49. (People will get to witness some of this when they get the zine, and I personally can’t wait!)

50. Speaking of: you are an amazing team member and I am so so happy to be on the same team as you.

51. You do everything that can be expected of you and MORE, so much MORE.

52. Your ideas are amazing, you work fast and everything you do is high-quality. I have learned so much just by watching you and listening to you and reading what you write, and for this I thank you.

53. If someone mentions a random idea or just something that they can’t articulate, you take it and you run with it and you turn it into GOLD. You transform random words into FINISHED PIECES and ... I just ... your VISION, man, it’s out of this world.

54. You are very dependable, and I would be honored to work with you on any given occasion.

55. You are so NICE and friendly <3 I have never been intimidated or afraid to talk to you (except in the very beginning when I was star-struck into terror).

56. You are generous. Donating your time and skill to be a part of the charity drives, AND providing people with more Harringrove art? Thank you.

57. You know that simpler style that you have? With the slightly blockier/straighter lines? Yeah, I love that one too. You know I do, but It should be said again.

58. In one piece that you did, I couldn’t stop staring at the way you drew a jacket. I know it’s a weird thing to say but I just ... You have a way of drawing clothes that makes them stylized, but STYLISH.

59. That little shine? The dot of white you add, to metals and eyes. It brings your pieces alive.

60. HOW HAVE I FORGOTTEN TO MENTION BILLY’S EYEBROWS UNTIL NOW?? I swear, you can make them as thick as you want and they will never be too thick.

61. (same goes for thighs. thank you for how you draw thighs)

62. HOW can you have such a soft style and such a blocky style at the same time, and STILL MAKE IT SO OBVIOUS THAT IT’S BY YOU?? I am amazed.

63. I would pay ACTUAL MONEY to just stand beside you and stare at you while you work. Too creepy? Yeah. Too creepy. Sorry. But I just ... I love watching art get made, and YOUR art? Is etched onto my HEART.

64. You deserve the world. ALL the good comments. Ever.

65. AND YOU ARE A WRITER, TOO. It’s honestly UNFAIR how talented you are.

66. I haven’t read through all of the “falling for you in hawkins, indi-fucking-ana” series yet (I KNOW!!!!!) because i’m saving it for a time when I can properly enjoy it, but it has been open in a tab on my computer (and my phone, so I don’t lose it if I accidentally close my tabs on one of the devices) forever.

67. I HAVE read other pieces of your writing though and I love them.

68. Sometimes when I need a short fluffy piece, I go back and re-read “A Day at the Fair”.

69. And “no longer one raindrop he is the endless sea“ made me cry. Made me feel like I’d been kicked in the chest.

70. (I printed both of those, just to keep to myself.)

71. I love the WAY you write, the language you use, the senteces you use, the way you write the characters and how they talk to each other. Your use of italics, your use of imagery. I love it, and I wish I could write like that.

72. I know many other people who love your writing too. I keep seeing comments on it on things and in discord servers etc.

73. Oh and art too of course. Everyone around me loves you and your art, because I only surround myself with people with impeckable... impecc... FLAWLESS taste, obviously. :D

74. Back to art! You once drew Billy in those jeans with suspenders thingies (What are they called? The jeans that goes up over the shoulders ... only he only had it over one shoulder. Anyway) and I will be forever grateful.

75. Sometimes you post WIPs and sketches, and I get all blushy and excited and has to breathe heavily because it’s like drugs to me.

76. Sometimes you make one art, and you colour it differently, and you post both of the versions? And I have spent TOO much time comparing the two pieces to try to work out how you do your magic, but I never do. And the funny thing is, that I can almost never choose a favorite!

77. You love Billy. And that is SO relatable.

78. You wanted MORE for Billy, which is ALSO so relatable, and I cannot help but feel comfortable in your prescence (online prescence, whatever) because I know you are like-minded in that regard.

79. You are so PRODUCTIVE. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t demand any creator to PRODUCE or just provide content - I am deeply grateful for every piece - but you have a whole LIBRARY of works, and it is amazing to me. How you keep giving and giving. Thank you for that.

80. No matter how you draw your characters (you can draw them in ANY way, in ANY style) they’re always recognizable.

81. I love watching you experiment with art. New styles, new things. Because you do it so well, and it’s so satisfying to see you grow.

82. And no matter what style you use, it doesn’t take away that you have the BASICS, you know your shit! Anatomy, perspective, colour theory ... I see you, and I know you know it.

83. *happy sigh* I would honestly watch you draw anything. Any time.

84. Your art manages, somehow, to be messy and clean at the same time, and it has been years and I still dont’ know HOW, but I will enjoy spending years ahead trying to figure it out. Either way, I’m into it.

85. I love how there is no obvious masculine or feminine in your art. Or maybe there is, and I just don’t catch up on it. Either way, sometimes it feels like there’s a play on it, and I like it a lot.

86. That first commission I got from you, more than a year ago now? Remember? Well, I was so afraid to let you know I wanted something changed in it, but you were so nice about it and changed it without a comment, and you made it so much better than I could have hoped for. Really made me dare to reach out for more commissions later. So really, YOU’RE the reason why I have so little money right now, lol (thank you).

87. All your pieces Packs A Punch. No matter if it’s art or writing.

88. SPEAKING OF WRITING. *GASP* I CAN’T BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT YOUR TAGS. You are the tag QUEEN, and often I see a post and then I have to go and see if you have reblogged it because i just KNOW that you’ll have written a masterpiece in the tags.

89. Your tags are better than many fics.

90. I don’t understand how you can write such tiny masterpieces in only a few sentences, but you do. You take something - and image or a gifset or someone’s idea - and you create this whole THING from it and I am often BOMBARDED with images from that alone.

91. My brain loves your tags. It’s like my brain is the canvas and your mind is the paint and your tags are the brush (... it’s late here, okay, I should sleep, but that made perfect sense in my brain).

92. You are a fucking INSPIRATION. You are an old lady with a watering can, making sure other people and their ideas can grow. You sew good things wherever you go.

93. Okay you’re not an old lady (I think). This is not really a comment so I’m gonna go with 93 again.

93 (again). I’d totally buy an art book with your art and your tags. Just, for your consideration, for the future. Just sayin’.

94. Okay this is random and I don’t even like butts much but I really like how you sometimes draw Steve’s bony butt. It’s like, it’s there, but it’s not? I don’t know how to describe it and now I’m digging myself into a hole here but I LIKE it, is my point.

95. You are sweet, you are talented, you are nice, you are productive, you are a good person.

96. I don’t know what you do for a living in real life, but I hope you have people around you who appreciate you for all that. And that they see how special you are.

97. There was something I was saving for last ... what was it? OH, the way you plan out your pieces? Like, the way you just don’t put something front and center, but there is actual thought behind angles and placement and light and darkness and such? It creates art that feels so real, in whatever way you choose to depict them.

98. You, and your art (drawings, fics, tags, whatever)? You spark joy.

99. Thank you for being who you are, and for being here with us.

100. I love you. :)

#Granpappy-winchester #100 good things #you're amazing #please know that #okay now it's late and i have to sleep but #don't let the bad people get you down #there are more of us who love you than there are of the assholes #<3 #granpappy winchester #lazybakerart

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