SUNMOON POKEDDEX CHALLENGE DAY 24 - Favourite Starter: Rowlet line
The Alola starters were a nice bunch all in all, but my heart was sold to the owls long before I even saw the evolutions. I really like the typing and the concept. Dartrix is definitely my favourite of the line, Decidueye was a bit underwhelming in terms of design and battle qualities (Primarina wins the place for the best last stage) but overall this family is just great.
Nothing very surprising in terms of interpretation! Just some barn owl and pueo owl here. The way I figured the “leaf” parts is the most surprising one, if you can say that. Instead of being leaves that just grow on the Pokemon’s bodies they’d be just feathers but with a different cellular structure so they can do photosynthesis. There’s this one bird that has iron in its wings, giving them either a bright red or alternatively a greenish colour, which is really cool. I think the Rowlet family could have either smaller plant growths or chlorophyll on the feathers, instead of them being separate plants. Whichever works better!
I guess I did something really good lately (everyone’s being so nice to me???) and I’m getting lots of questions about commission/prints, so I figured it’s time for an updated post!
Line: $10 bust / $15 body
Color: $35 bust / $40 body
Full Illustration: $60+
**Extra characters or intricate props (like mechanical weapons or armor) are an additional $10+ depending on complexity.
I can do existing characters from anywhere or OCs, but I’m hesitant to do real-life people (I get self-conscious about my skillz). Otherwise, I’m cool with pretty much anything so long as it’s tasteful. I can take payment through paypal, venmo, or etsy.
Also, you can dig through my art tag to find further examples of different styles I can do your commission in! I’ve been working in new ways lately, but I have no problem swinging back to an older style if you prefer it ^^
If you’re interested, feel free to contact me here on tumblr or email at email@example.com (email is easiest for me to keep track of, but whichever works better for you). Don’t be afraid to ask questions– no pressure to commit to a commission unless you’re totally sure of it!
so the other day my bridge came off my violin and i was like, "whatever" so i just put it back on after loosening the strings. i was almost done tuning and then the bridge came off again. this cycle keeps happening and i haven't been able to practice for a while because of it. what should i do?
1. cry/emotional breakdown (choose whichever works better for you)
2. ask a music teacher to help you
3. ask an employee at a music store to help you.
you shouldn’t be having that many issues with your bridge, unless you’re not readjusting it after using your tuning pegs a lot. the bridge should always be at a 90 degree angle.
Kakashi HC or scenario (whichever you think will work better) for Kakashi's crush/best friend coming out to him as bi and some cute/fluffy love confession and kisses
i let out one of the loudest squeals in my life when i got this one!! i love you so much anon!!!
Kakashi’s Crush/Best Friend Coming Out As Bi Headcanons
- He’s not blind. Well, not completely anyway. He’s seen a few of the looks they’ve been giving to both the guys and the girls around the village.
- I canon Kakashi as bi himself, so he’s a little happy if that’s the case for them as well. He’s not one to jump to conclusions, so he waits until they come to him and tell him that they’re bi.
- Even if Kakashi knows they’re bisexual or not, he’s still got a soft spot for them. He’s watching them a bit more than he watches anyone else. If it comes close to a topic of people they like, Kakashi quickly stammers up a quick lie about liking his dogs the most and narrowly avoids any further questions about it when he realizes that they’ve done the exact same thing.
- When they finally do come out as bi, there’s no way he’d be able to hide that smile of his. He confesses that he’s the exact same, and that he’s had a crush on them for a while now. He’s super giddy and all around excited that someone’s exactly like he is, and he finally loses it when he presses his lips against theirs.
- He’s even more thrilled to learn that they felt the exact same way about him and that excitement may travel to the bedroom later that night ;))))
i did my best to lay down the various levels and effects for my next cover. this is minus the owl sound (i’m not adding that in) and the “be my love” choir (i AM adding that in). i also may change the flute sound to an actual whistle, whichever works better.
how does it sound so far? it’s only about 20 seconds of the song but hopefully you get the picture
So I’ve been getting a lot of questions about commissions lately and figured I should make a new posting about them! Coincidentally, I’ll be getting five (yes, five) stupid wisdom teeth removed in two weeks, and since I live in the states where basic/ necessary health procedures cost thousands of dollars that nobody has, I could really use all the help I can get anyway
Line: $10 bust / $15 body
Color: $35 bust / $40 body
Full Illustration: $60+
**Extra characters or intricate props (like mecha weapons or armor) are an additional $10+ depending on complexity.
I can do existing characters from anywhere or OCs! I’m cool with pretty much anything so long as it’s tasteful, and can take payment through paypal, venmo, or etsy.
If you’re interested, feel free to contact me here on tumblr or email at firstname.lastname@example.org (email is easiest for me to keep track of, but whichever works better for you). Oh! and don’t be afraid to ask questions– no pressure to commit to a commission unless you’re totally sure of it!
'Ey, hows it going? How would Jotaro and Josuke react to finding out that their s/o, despite being rather quiet and shy, are fully capable of defending themselves in a fight without them? (Stand user or not, your choice!) Either headcanons or scenarios, whichever you think would work better! Hope you're having a good day!
Ooooh! I like these! Of course, sweets! :) I’m gonna do headcanons okay??
Jotaro Kujo w/ Capable S/O:
-he honestly expected this from you. he lives a dangerous life as a descendant of the Joestars so he would expect his significant other to be able to handle themselves
-but he’s still surprised when you finally push back and is quite…turned on by it. lol
-if you tell him to back off, he’ll obey without question
-he watches you with a proud smirk. “That’s my woman/man.”
Josuke Higashikata w/ Capable S/O:
-he’s surprised beyond hell. His s/o is a fighter? His shy, meek s/o?!
-would try to defend you at first and will be taken aback when you tell him to move out of the way
-he watches you with awe
-compliments you when you’re done. “You’re amazing, babe!!”
I don't want to overwhelm you with a prompt so please feel free to disregard!! I thought it would be cool to see Sawyer and Alex doing some clothes shopping? For me, clothes shopping is sometimes hard since sometimes people are crappy and judgey...
Prompt 2: hi, i have a prompt for you if you up to it. it’s a for Director Sanvers or Sanvers (whichever you think it works better) with NB!Sawyer. something like DS/S decide to go to a night out and Sawyer got a new haircut and we got see Alex and/or Lucy jealous because Sawyer looks hot af. Thanks!
A/N: I’ll say it one more time for the folks who can read the chapters but not the notes: if you don’t want to read a particular character you do not need to read it, and you do not need to comment and make the folks who do enjoy and request these chapters or find some kind of comfort or representation in them feel guilty for giving me additional prompts. And for the person who asked me why Sawyer isn’t femme and why I have “only butch nb friends,” I mean…you don’t know my friends… But also, I don’t write Sawyer as femme because I don’t see Maggie as being particularly femme; save for the episode when they went undercover, her aesthetic is pretty soft butch. So I write Sawyer that way, and this chapter works within the framework I’ve built.
TW for sections on dealing with body image and dysphoria, as well as one brief instance of misgendering. I don’t dwell too long on the discomfort with physical appearance, since these are things I still deal with myself (can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve gone out in anything but a tight sports bra in the past 3 years and generally turn into a massive bitch when forced to deal with buying clothing).
And finally! A big thank you to my good friend/ex-partner for letting me borrow their cool af haircut for Sawyer and giving me the right words to describe what I only have pictures of. And an even bigger thank you to @lasvegas056 for agreeing to beta read this particular chapter. You’re the best!!
“Are you really buying five of the exact same shirt?” Sawyer asked, biting back a laugh.
“I mean…I like this shirt,” Alex answered. She held it up to assess. Crisp collar: check. Machine washable: check. Relatively wrinkle-resistant: check. Not crazy expensive: check. Sure, it wasn’t bulletproof, but most weren’t, and she didn’t see the problem with stocking up when she had the chance.
“You have, like, seven of that shirt at home, though.”
“Well, yeah,” Alex shrugged. “But I’ve got them in different colors. We can’t all have a wardrobe that completely changes with California’s basically non-existent seasons!”
Chuckling, Sawyer just shook their head. It had taken them a while to really pin down their own aesthetic, so now they liked to find clothes that worked for them. Of course, the process of finding the clothes was distinctly less fun. Because as much as they had come to love their body for what it could do, for the ways it could be strong in the line of duty and soft when they cuddled up with Alex (or hard and unyielding when Alex was in a very particular mood), remembering that appreciation could be distinctly more difficult when standing in the middle of what amounted to a glorified closet under terribly unflattering fluorescent lights and in front of cheap mirrors that too often warped their body in unexpected and unwanted ways.
“What do you have?” Alex asked, peering at the pile Sawyer had stacked on their arms. She grinned at the sight of plenty of button ups and henleys, plus a couple of sweaters and blazers to go with them.
“The usual,” they shrugged. “We’ll see what fits.”
Alex nodded and followed along. She remembered Sawyer mentioning that sometimes shopping and trying on clothes could be trying, but she also didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to assume that her presence would make it any better. “I’ll be right out here if you need me?” …(Continued on AO3)
summary | kyungsoo is a fallen angel in love with a human. he waits decades each time after he dies, and in each new life that they kiss, jongin dies so soon after.
x - x - x
He’s putting his clothes back on as quietly as he can, trying hard not to wake the boy. But it fails obviously, when he hears his voice.
“When will I see you?” His tone is sleepy, yet completely adorable and sweet.
Kyungsoo turns his body towards him, and offers a small smile. He kneels next to the bed, brushing the fringe out of Jongin’s eyes. “Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Whichever works better.”
“But,” he pouts, “I wish you stayed now, I wanna cuddle.”
His smile widens and he presses a light, sweet, beautiful kiss to Jongin’s lips. Though it’s beautiful and makes his insides flutter, it also hurts him more than anything else.
Kyungsoo breaks it, keeping a simper to his lips. “Can’t. Later though, okay, baby?”
The boy groans. “Fine…”
Kyungsoo kisses him once more, and zips his jacket up. He walks out, though not before whispering in Jongin’s ear, “Love you.”
He doesn’t miss the sweet, shy smile that forms on Jongin’s pretty face, and the quiet words of, “I love you too.” Quietly, he exits Jongin’s apartment. Before he can leave the complex, Kyungsoo stops and leans back against the door. He feels exhausted, mentally. Only because all he can think of lately is that Jongin might not be alive for very long.
He swallows hard, tries not to let the tears fall from his eyes. Once this Jongin is no longer living, Kyungsoo will, again, have to wait decades for him to come back. Painful, long decades. He shouldn’t even feel this love for Jongin. He’s a fallen angel. They’re just like demons, damned to hell, angry. They want to possess human bodies and live again. Instead, Kyungsoo takes his own human form, waits decades for Jongin, waits longer for Jongin to love him. It’s all painful. Kyungsoo lives forever, Jongin… he does not. At least not in one form.
Jongin’s had many different faces. Some handsome and boyish, others almost mistaken for a girl, each time, he is breathtakingly gorgeous, Kyungsoo won’t deny.
And his face now, Kyungsoo would say is one of the most beautiful. Golden skin, pretty, dark eyes, the softest, sweetest tasting lips he has ever kissed. Jongin’s tall too, but it doesn’t faze Kyungsoo. Jongin’s been much, much taller before. To the point he couldn’t believe Jongin became so shy—even when his personality at the time was pretty damn manly.
The Jongin now is a gorgeous man, who has a great passion for dance and music. He loves dogs. He loves Kyungsoo’s cooking best. He’s clingy and adorable, and he becomes easily jealous if someone so much as looks at Kyungsoo. Except each time Jongin was incarnated, he is always easily jealous. It’s unbelievably adorable.
Kyungsoo knows each time, Jongin will always be beautiful. Nothing will never make him think it’s false. He loves each Jongin that comes to him, falls for him, kisses him. He will never deny that very fact.
But part of him just hopes this Jongin will stay alive a little longer.
As he sleeps, Jongin dreams of visions. Different visions, dating back all the way to more historical times. He’s not sure who he sees. But they’re ten different people, with the same name as his own. He can see most of their faces, some very handsome, others on the cute side. Though he doesn’t see his own face.
Then he sees another face. And he knows that face so well.
Dark hair, big eyes, those beautiful, heart-shaped lips that only he gets to kiss. A short stature, but dominating. It’s Kyungsoo. He’s always smiling at Jongin, holding him in the most loving way possible, kissing him breathless. Somehow he knows all ten guys with the same name as him are all in fact him. And it’s strange.
Then each time, before he changes, Kyungsoo has a sad smile on his beautiful face and tears pooled up in his eyes. Every time, Jongin wants to call out to him, touch him, tell him it’s okay and that he’s there. But he can’t.
Soon enough, he does see himself. He sees himself holding Kyungsoo’s hand, swinging them back and forth and walking together. He doesn’t know where. Then Kyungsoo disappears, and Jongin looks around frantically. He sees no sign of anyone, except himself.
A light appears in front of him and it speaks. “It’s too unbearable for him. You must take measures.”
“What measures?” Before the light can go into detail, it disappears. “Wait!” Jongin frantically shouts. But to no avail, it is gone.
What he saw next is something he never imagined seeing. It’s Kyungsoo, with a pained expression and black wings that look like they’re deteriorating away. It’s not a tear that falls from Kyungsoo’s eye… but blood.
Jongin wakes up immediately after seeing that.He pants heavily and blinks his eyes. He sits up, cold rushing up his body, and looking at his surroundings. It takes him a moment to come back to reality and figure out what he saw is a dream.
But is it really? All those people…they were all him at one point, right? He got to see his past lives, and each one, it is Kyungsoo that is there.
Kyungsoo is always there.
He pulls his blanket covered legs towards his body, and runs his fingers between his dark locks. Jongin exhales slowly and shakily, and a lonely emptiness fills him. He wishes Kyungsoo was here to comfort him. He glances at the window in his room, noticing it’s almost sunrise. His eyes fall on his alarm clock, it reads 6:34. Jongin’s lips press in a line, and he feels cold.
He picks his phone up from the nightstand, dialing the first person that came to mind.
“You’re up early.”
Jongin swallows, recalling the visions he had. It makes him shake. “I-I couldn’t sleep.” He wipes the tear that falls off his cheek. “Where are you, right now?”
“I just…I just need you here. The dream I had wasn’t good.”
Jongin hears Kyungsoo shuffle around, and heave a sigh. “I’ll be over in an hour. Can you handle yourself till then?”
“Good. I promise I’ll be there. I love you.”
“Hmm, love you too.”
When the line goes silent, Jongin puts his phone back where it was, and curls into himself more. He shuts his eyes, wanting to escape reality. There is an image that goes across his vision. At first he wishes for it to go away, but then Kyungsoo’s face appears.
It’s a winter’s morning. He sees Kyungsoo in traditional clothing, something from the Joseon era. It’s more like a commoner’s clothing than someone of much higher status. Kyungsoo still manages to look so tempting and gorgeous, even in clothing like that.
The Kyungsoo in the vision smiles sweetly at him, then reaches up to brush the snowflakes from his hair. “You are not cold, are you?” he asks.
Jongin shakes his head. “I am fine, Kyungsoo-ssi.”
Kyungsoo lets out a slightly tired sigh while his hand falls down. “You should not have to use formalities with me, Jongin. You are of higher status, you know.”
Jongin doesn’t speak a word back, and looks around at the scenery. They’re walking alone in a snow-covered forest, and from the sky, snow continues to fall upon them. His lips form into a little pout. “You are older.”
“And that should not mean anything to you, Your Highness.”
“Stop, I do not like it when people refer me as that.”
Kyungsoo chuckles. His cold hand finds Jongin’s and their fingers thread together. Jongin tenses. “You are cute.”
Jongin pulls his hand away. “We should not be together. It’s all…it is all wrong, you know that.”
“It is not wrong if it is true.”
At this, Jongin’s heart leaps. “B-but our statuses—”
Kyungsoo comes closer, holding Jongin’s hand again. “I do not care about that.”
“We are both men! We could be executed for—”
His words are intercepted with a finger hushing his lips. Kyungsoo smiles that same, warm, loving smile. “I would rather die than live a life not knowing or loving you.” Then Kyungsoo kisses him with so much passion and affection and force that Jongin whimpers.
The vision shifts.
There are common people, calling Jongin dirty, filthy, a disgrace to the royal family, an abomination. His hands are tied behind him, eyes are blindfolded. He is pushed down to his knees.
The executioner and the first prince both make a speech. It’s on Jongin’s wrongdoings, and on how Kyungsoo had run away and is nowhere to be found. This is fine for them, no need to deal with such a filthy man.
Jongin tunes both voices out, and the next thing he knows, he’s forced to drink an unknown liquid that burns his throat and his entire body. The last thing he hears in Kyungsoo’s deep, melodic voice that says, “We will meet again. I promise you.”
Jongin’s cheeks are tear stained and he is rocking himself when the image disappears. A broken sob leaves his mouth. His body feels numb. He opens his eyes, which his eyelashes are clumping with tears, and peers about the room.
His eyes move over to the time again. It reads 7:10 this time. Kyungsoo will be here soon. Kyungsoo will be here soon, he keeps repeating to himself. There’s no doubt in Jongin’s mind anymore. Those are his past lives, and what he saw just now is also another past life. But why was Kyungsoo there, he cannot fathom.
He closes his eyes again, wishing he would just fall asleep until Kyungsoo arrives. But once more, he sees another image that he begs desperately to go away. It doesn’t.
This time, it’s autumn. The Joseon era is well over, but people still wear traditional clothing. Just not as extravagant. There are soldiers sprinkled in the mix of people. Japanese soldiers.
Jongin isn’t to be seen by these men, though. He finds himself in a space between two buildings and leaning against the wall of one of them. He knows this is wrong, it is all wrong wrong wrong. And even worse with the Japanese. But maybe for Kyungsoo, it isn’t.
Maybe they can run away.
Maybe they can live on their own, with no one else in their way.
The said male attracts Jongin’s attention when he comes up next to Jongin. Like they were never supposed to let go, their hands mold together.
“What do you say we head down to the lake, close by?” Kyungsoo whispers with a confident smile, careful of the soldiers walking around.
At this, Jongin grins and nods rather excitedly. “Yeah.”
Kyungsoo secures Jongin’s hand in his, and he peers his head in the open a few moments. Jongin gapes at Kyungsoo, waiting for a bigger smile and for him to pull Jongin so fast unto the woods’ trail. Then Kyungsoo does, running with Jongin as quickly as possible. The breeze dances around their bodies, and everything is thrilling and inviting to Jongin.
Getting there is not too much of a problem. Jongin might have tripped over his own feet at times, at which Kyungsoo would chuckle at and Jongin would glare. As soon as they come upon the lake, they’re running into it, just up to their shins. The warm, spring sun dances on their skin, and water is splashed amongst one another. Kyungsoo slips on a rock imbedded in the bottom of the lake, at one point, falling backwards and completely drenched. Jongin bursts into a fit of laughter, hand to his stomach from laughing so hard. In response to that, Kyungsoo smirks and pulls Jongin down with him.
“Yah!” Jongin exclaims as he wipes the water from his face, but a playful smile on his face.
“You’re the one who started laughing at me,” Kyungsoo chortles lowly under his breath. “You should’ve seen it coming.”
The boy pouts, crossing his arms. “I hate you.”
Kyungsoo scrunched his nose, then stands up, water dripping from his clothes, He smooths his hands over his hair, slicking it back. A strand falls on the side of his head. He reaches a hand out to Jongin with a heart-shaped smile formed on his lips.
Unhesitatingly, Jongin accepts and gets pulled out of the water—at least his body does.
“You know you can’t hate me.” Kyungsoo says in a cunning sort of tone.
Jongin almost whines. “You’re giving me all the reason to.”
The elder grins so widely and genuinely at that. He brings a hand up to caress Jongin’s cheek, stroking it once with his thumb. Jongin’s heart pounds against his chest and he bites his lower lip out of anticipation and joy.
Jongin’s body feels like it’s on air when their mouths touch…
… A few days later, Jongin is shot down by a Japanese soldier. Before the gun makes a sound, he hears Kyungsoo’s voice. “One day, you won’t have to die after we kiss just once. I’m sorry it’s like this.”
Coming back to his senses is dizzying. There is a rapping of the door, and a call of his name. Jongin blinks the clumped tears from his eyes, and gets up from his bed. He ambles toward the door, slowly, and he opens it. Kyungsoo stands there with a very worried expression on his features. Immediately, he pulls Jongin towards his body without even coming inside.
Jongin breaks again. He burrows his face in Kyungsoo’s shoulder, sobbing, tears streaming down his cheeks and onto Kyungsoo’s jacket. The shorter male rubs circles on Jongin’s back, and with his other hand, strokes the back of his soft hair. He makes gentle shushing sounds in Jongin’s ear, and tells him things like: I’m right here; It’s gonna be okay, Nini; I’m not going anywhere.
When Jongin lifts his head, he’s a complete mess in front of Kyungsoo. Puffy eyes and red-dimmed eyes, nose stuffy, tear-stained cheeks, lips dry. Kyungsoo simpers gently, moving a strand of Jongin’s hair behind his ear. Jongin tries to stand up straight—which he succeeds at—and he tugs on Kyungsoo’s hand impatiently, wanting to take them both back to his room. Kyungsoo obliges and tries to support Jongin the few times he’s almost fallen over.
It takes a while for Jongin to calm himself, while he is settled in Kyungsoo’s arms and on his bed again. Their breathing is slow and steady, and all that’s exchanged is a few kisses to Jongin’s head or temple. Kyungsoo does not pry the younger into telling him what is going on(Jongin feels like he just fell for him even more).
Instead, after a while, he says, “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, Jongin. But I’m always here, you know I am.”
But Jongin only shakes his head, looking up from Kyungsoo’s chest. “No,” he starts, “it’s something you need to hear. And I have so many questions to ask you…”
Jongin watches Kyungsoo’s throat bob as he swallows. Kyungsoo seals Jongin’s lips with his in a kiss of chastity and assurance to him that everything will be fine. It breaks slowly after, and Jongin rests his head back into Kyungsoo’s shoulder.
“You’re not human,” is the first thing that Jongin says. His tone does not suggest that he’s mad at Kyungsoo, rather slightly betrayed and saddened by the fact that Kyungsoo never told him—even in his past lives. Jongin feels Kyungsoo’s fingers on his shoulder tense. He doesn’t speak, so Jongin assumes there was a nod of acknowledgement. Or some form of it. “And I’ve met you more than once, in different lives.”
It would explain why Jongin was so drawn to Kyungsoo, even when they were younger. They were friends in middle school, no, best friends. When they were in their last year of middle school, Jongin was the one that took initiative to ask Kyungsoo out. They took their relationship very slow in high school, since Jongin has always been very awkward about PDA and just relationships in general, whether he asked Kyungsoo out or not. He even confronted Kyungsoo about it all, and he was more than understanding about it all. He had said: “I’ll wait as long as it takes, love.” That night was the first night they held hands and hugged as a couple.
It took four years for their first kiss—which was recently. About three weeks ago. And after that, Jongin seemed to let himself completely become Kyungsoo’s. He allowed them to kiss more, cuddle more, be a real couple. They started to sleep at each other’s places(read: falling asleep after making out and clothes coming off). They haven’t once had sex, however.
“For how long have you suffered, hyung?” Jongin lifts his head again, wanting to see Kyungsoo’s expression as they talk about this. He hopes it is not too agonizing.
Oh, but one can hope. Kyungsoo’s face is definitely saddened, and so heartbreaking. He looks like he wants to cry, but he keeps it in for Jongin. It shatters Jongin completely and he wants to kiss it off, if only it would work in that way.
Kyungsoo’s lips tighten and press in a line. The tears begin to brim his eyes. “So so long, Jongin.” Kyungsoo’s voice is shaking, painful. “I-I fell in love with you before the Joseon era, right when the Goryeo dynasty was falling. You…” a tear finally leaves Kyungsoo’s eye. “You were a child when I saw you for the first time. And you were crying. Your mom was taken away, your dad was dead. You had no siblings. No one would take care of you.” Jongin’s heart sinks low into his stomach. “I took form of a human child, and… I took care of you.
"It wasn’t long before I fell in love with you. You were thirteen when I noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were, and I allowed myself to fall deeper and deeper as time went by. I kissed you for the first time, when you were eighteen.” Jongin swallows really hard, and hates that Kyungsoo’s cheeks are now drenched with tears at these memories. The images do come back to Jongin, and it tugs at his heartstrings that he never remembered them in the first place. He doesn’t feel as betrayed as he did a moment ago.
“I didn’t know about the curse that was on me. Or any fallen angel.” It is interesting to hear Kyungsoo admit what he truly is, Jongin thinks. “A fallen angel isn’t supposed to be in love with a human. The curse…” Kyungsoo’s eyes shut. Jongin brings his thumbs to the elder’s cheeks, wiping both of them dry. He pecks Kyungsoo’s mouth once, assuring him it’s okay to keep going. It takes a few moments. “If I am to fall in love with a human, and then kiss them even once, the human is sure to– to die not long a-after that. Then the fallen angel has to watch that human relive, and die again and again, until the fallen angel no longer loves the human.
"The first time… you died of an incurable illness. I couldn’t control it. The second, you were executed for being with me. Third…” The list went on. It made Jongin’s heart hurt so much, hearing how Kyungsoo had to watch him die so many times. In each time Kyungsoo’s voice becomes shaky, Jongin squeezes his hand, kisses him, or pets his hair. “And this time…it’s taking longer and that’s what I’m afraid of. You could die brutally, or suddenly. You could die right here, right now as I am speaking.” Jongin kisses Kyungsoo’s cheek, this time squeezing his thigh.
“I-I’ve loved you for so so long, Jongin, how can I not love such a beautiful human being like you? I can’t stop. For over six hundred years, I’ve never stopped and I never will.” Jongin smiles a little, but his heart still clenches. Kyungsoo manages a mini one back, albeit it fades as soon as it comes. “But it hurts so much to see you suffer in every life. I hate seeing you live hard, and then die so young. Because I’m so fucking selfish and all I want is you to myself, for eternity.” More tears run down Kyungsoo’s face. His voice trembles. “I-I want y– you to live, and I want—want you to be with me. But in the eyes of God, or the Devil, I can’t have both. And I hate it so fucking much.”
Jongin decides it is the right moment to pull Kyungsoo in a tight and warm embrace. As tight and warm as he can make it. Kyungsoo sobs are broken and painful, and it causes Jongin’s eyes to fill up with heavy tears. It hurts, too, to know that he will possibly die soon. And Kyungsoo will have to witness it once again, for the twelfth time. For a while, both can solely rock each other back and forth, wishing everything wasn’t what it is. If only something was different…
Eventually, they’re face to face, foreheads joined and hands on each other. Their breaths are slower, a bit of a hiccuping sound in both of them.
“Are you certain there’s no way for us to stay together, without any of us suffering?” Jongin queries.
Kyungsoo shrugs his shoulders. “There might be, and I don’t know it.”
Jongin hums. “Then I’ll be sure to be extra careful about whatever I do.”
“Jongin, even that won’t work. It’s inevitable.”
“What if it isn’t, Soo? What if there’s a way?”
The statement definitely makes Kyungsoo think. Jongin sees it on his face, the way his eyebrows scrunch in thought. A flash of realization comes over his eyes. “There might be a way!” His face falls again, however, after saying that. “But I’m not sure if you’ll be comfortable with it.”
Jongin grins like it will be no problem. “Hyung, I trust you. And it’ll be for us, right?” Kyungsoo nods. “Then that’s all that matters.”
Kyungsoo moistens his lips, holding Jongin’s hands in his. “There is an exception to the curse. A fallen angel is allowed to have… sexual interactions,” Jongin’s eyes widen, “with the human, if its love for the human is completely genuine and will last forever. Once they do it just one time, the fallen angel can be granted its humanity back, or the human can decide to live life eternally like the angel.”
Jongin is speechless.
“I know we just—well, kissed for the first time not too long ago, but,” Kyungsoo clears his throat, “it is only if you want to do it, baby, don’t feel like you need to force—”
Jongin pushes one finger to Kyungsoo’s lips. Kyungsoo blinks. He smiles. “I want to. I love you, hyung, so so much, and I don’t want to see you have to go through this again. I want to be with you for as long as you keep living.”
The most beautiful and happiest grin splits on Kyungsoo’s face. He doesn’t say a word, rather he shows his words through the kiss he gives Jongin. The kiss is passionate and sweet tasting, and Jongin feels light and high on the taste. He kisses back with no reluctance, arms throwing around Kyungsoo’s neck. It starts slow, with only a little bit of tongue involved. Then Jongin takes initiative to deepen it further and let his tongue lap under and over Kyungsoo’s. Kyungsoo moans and growls into Jongin’s hot mouth, hands finding purchase to Jongin’s waist.
Kyungsoo is actually the first to break it, with heavy breaths. “Are-are you sure?”
“Yes,” Jongin nods, a smile plastering his face. “Absolutely, positively, yes.”
Kyungsoo can’t help but smile at the boy. He aligns their lips again, and in a swift move turns them over so he is the one over Jongin. Kyungsoo straddles Jongin’s hips, kissing him breathless and keeping slow and passionate. That’s what he wants and Jongin deserves, slow, passionate, loving. It is the only time Kyungsoo ever actually made love to Jongin, as Kyungsoo wanted whatever was best for Jongin, whatever time it was or who he was. He only wanted chaste love for a while, but this is on a whole new level—even for Kyungsoo.
Their mouths draw apart. Kyungsoo removes his shirt, and gently begins to kiss Jongin’s neck and jawline, sure to savor every beautiful inch of Jongin’s golden skin. Jongin whimpers at the first suck of his skin. Then Kyungsoo traces his lips onto Jongin’s already naked torso(he sleeps without a shirt). He hesitantly attaches his mouth to the left bud, licking around it and a moan emitting from Jongin’s pretty lips. He licks it and nips it steadily, and it sends shivers up and down Jongin’s spine.
The kisses on Jongin’s top continue, up and down. Kyungsoo looks up at Jongin concernedly when his lips reach the top of his sweatpants. Before Jongin can even nod, Kyungsoo comes back up anyway, twines their fingers next to Jongin’s head, and kisses him again. Jongin makes an umf sound at the sudden contact, but lets their mouths dance once more, tongues mingling and lapping each other. Kissing is not fast or forced, however. It still remains as slow as they both want it, and passionate and real as they need it. The kiss breaks, and Kyungsoo mouths Jongin’s jawline, neck, the small bruise formed on the column of his neck, and collarbone. The room is hot, and down in Jongin’s low abdomen, it feels like a pool of heat.
Down, down, down again, Kyungsoo trails his lips. He looks up at Jongin worriedly, when he reaches the hem of Jongin’s pants. Jongin gives Kyungsoo the signal to remove his bottoms, with a small simper and no words exchanged. Leisurely Kyungsoo slides them down, and almost gapes at Jongin’s legs(even when he has seen them before). He’s so pretty like this, though, spread out and eager.
Jongin almost tries to cover himself, but Kyungsoo stops him with his lips to Jongin’s thighs that makes Jongin squirm a bit. He mewls at the feeling. Then Kyungsoo begins to suck on his own fingers, coating them with his saliva as Jongin is quite unprepared for this. The sight is downright sinful and Jongin actually moans at it. Carefully, Kyungsoo pushes one finger in.
Jongin whimpers, clutching at the bed sheets. Gently moving his first finger in and out, Kyungsoo consoles Jongin with kisses over the expanse of his neck and chest.
Another finger is added to Jongin’s entrance. He squirms again, the sensation foreign but oh so good. He swallows another moan, and his arms find a mind of their own throwing back around Kyungsoo’s neck. Impatience creeps up on Jongin fast, and gets to him harder than it ever has in his life.
He surprises himself when he says: “Please, I need you, now.” Jongin has never been one to be so demanding.
It seems so, as well, that Kyungsoo had grown quite impatient too. He retracts his fingers from Jongin, undoes his pants, and throws them with the rest of their clothes. Kyungsoo spits into his hands before stroking himself enough so that he does not hurt Jongin. He waits for Jongin to give the nod, and when the boy does, Kyungsoo only pushes half of his throbbing cock in.
“A-ah, fuck,” Jongin hisses.
Kyungsoo stares at Jongin apologetically, then kisses Jongin’s lips once to take the pain come off his mind. “Just tell me when,” he whispers again.
It takes a while for Jongin to say okay. Jongin is a virgin, and the stretch is a bit hurtful and burning to him. He inhales and exhales steadily in those moments. Kyungsoo also tries stroking Jongin’s hair and kissing his head to make him feel better too. Soon enough, Jongin finally gives the okay.
Again, Kyungsoo remains slow. Pulling out and thrusting back in are slow, gentle movements, holding Jongin’s hips. Jongin holds Kyungsoo closer, panting and needy for more. The way Kyungsoo moves in and out of Jongin, it’s almost like he knows Jongin’s body better than Jongin knows his own. It is such a strange feeling, but so pleasurable and satisfying at the same time.
Kyungsoo’s thrusts become faster, but not too much. Just enough for Jongin. But he tries different angles to hit the right—
“Oh, god, hit that again, shit…”
There it is. Kyungsoo angles his hips the same, only thrusts harder with each snap of his hips. Jongin keens louder and louder after each one, and his pants become heavier. He knows his release is so damn close already, but a part of him screams to keep enjoying the moment. So he does.
After a while of being completely absorbed in each other’s body, scent, and essence, both of their climaxes are reached—Jongin’s on their abdomens and Kyungsoo’s inside Jongin. For a long while longer, they stay still, holding each other(just in case this doesn’t work and it might be the only time this happens). A sweetly chaste kiss is shared between them, one that shows the most love they are able to give.
“So,” Kyungsoo starts with such a wide, bright, relieved smile. “Am I changing or you?”
Jongin hums in thought, grinning as well at Kyungsoo’s most genuine smiles he has ever seen(yes, even in his past lives). Then he answers with, “I wouldn’t mind giving my humanity up for you.”
It shocks Kyungsoo, to say the least. Makes him upset, yet happy—correction, joyful—that someone would do that for him. Kyungsoo runs his fingers between Jongin’s locks and unites their lips again. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”
“That would be my specialty.”
Kyungsoo smiles again, laughing lightly. “I love you so so much, Jongin. And I always will.”
“You promise?” Jongin says with hopeful, yet knowing eyes.
“I promise you.”
Their lips meet once more before Jongin says against Kyungsoo’s mouth, “Then I love you too, and I will forever and always.”
In 1968, the Star Trek cast and ocrew were filming the episode “Plato’s Stepchildren,” which featured aliens using mind control to force Captain Kirk (William Shatner) to make out with Communications Officer Uhura (Nichelle Nichols). You know: standard classic Star Trek stuff. Star Trek just wasn’t Star Trek if Kirk wasn’t being goaded by an alien god into some sort of sexual harassment. But when it came time to shoot that scene, the director and some NBC suits got uncomfortable – not because of the weird consent issues (this was the ‘60s, after all; slapping a woman was considered foreplay), but because Nichols is black. Up until that point, scripted interracial kisses on television just weren’t done. The actors wanted to shoot the scene as it was, but since they weren’t in charge, there was only one thing they could do: sabotage.
Show creator Gene Roddenberry had suggested a compromise: they’d shoot two versions of the scene, one with the kiss, and one with a hug, and use whichever worked better. Everyone knew which version NBC was going to want to use, but luckily Shatner had a plan. See, a director can’t see exactly what the camera is picking up – only the camera operator can. So while they were shooting the versions of the scene that would preserve the purity of the white race, Shatner positioned himself so that the director couldn’t see his face, stared right into the camera, and made a bunch of stupid faces.
The director, thinking he’d won, immediately called a wrap and sent everyone home. It wasn’t until they were going over the dailies that they realized what had happened. They were forced to run the scene as originally scripted, resigning themselves to having to face an explosion of controversy that (twist!) never happened.
Truly, it was a leap forward for human rights, although whether Shatner was fighting for the progression of society or just couldn’t stand to miss an opportunity to get busy on national television is anybody’s guess.
I've been torn between getting a cotton-lined binder from Underworks or a half binder from gc2b. I've heard the regular underworks binders can sometimes have painful edges, and the gc2b sometimes tear on the back seam. Any suggestions?
My personal opinion… I was and still am a medium (around a B cup size) and wore nothing but underworks binders for about 3 years. When I was counting down my days towards top surgery I decided to take the plunge and buy a GC2B binder and I never wanted to wear an underworks binder again. I could finally breath comfortably and could stretch and not feel like I was constricted.
That being said, there are numerous variables when getting a binder. Size being one. Some larger chested guys have said that GC2B works better for them, others say Underworks. Unfortunately there is no “which is better” answer, it just is whichever works better for your body type!
Both companies have a decent return/exchange policy as long as the binder is not damaged from wearing. My best advice would be purchase one of each (after doing research on those with your body type) and then either re-sell or exchange the one you don’t like.
Sakura felt a twinge of pity for the poor people who had to use the cots in her downstairs office. She didn’t have a bed yet, but she had two decent cots and a patient table to chose from in her clinic. None of them provided sufficient comfort for a good night’s sleep. Maybe if she was drugged or doped up it wouldn’t be so jarring to her bones, but when Sakura rises in the morning before the sun is up she knows it is more so from her body’s subconscious desire to leave the lumpy bed behind and less from a habit of early rising.
Undergrad internships taught her to stay awake for days at a time. She could do more than just survive on five hours of sleep. Five hours was plenty of time for her.
That’s why Shizune found Sakura already waist deep into a mess of banker boxes filled with files from patients since the founding of the town. Two mugs of coffee were still warm on Shizune’s desk.
“What’s this?” the receptionist asked, seeing the coffee. “Is one for me?”
Sakura feels a bit lighter when she sees the other woman’s reaction. “I already had mine, those are both for you but I didn’t know how you liked your coffee so one is strong and the other is sweet. You can pick whichever one works better for you and fix it up. I brought down what little supplies I had for early mornings but I’ll admit I was pleased to see you already had a coffee set up in the staff kitchen. I didn’t bring much food with me.”
“It’s 7:00AM, Sakura. How long have you already been here?” Shizune asked in wonder, eyeing the boxes that look like they have already been looked through.
“Only a little bit longer than you,” Sakura lied in a nervous voice. She actually hadn’t paid attention to the time, but she remembered it being a dusky gray outside her windows. “I’m making more of a mess than anything though. I’m afraid I haven’t been very productive.”
“Sweet thing,” Shizune clucks, reaching forward and grabbing Sakura’s hands. “You’re doing so well already. Oh, I have such a good feeling about you. I feel as if I can finally breath again. Oh, you make me want to cry.”
“Please don’t,” Sakura laughs with a smile. “I’m not worth it.”
“Oh no, you don’t understand what it’s been like. We were so desperate for some good help. I think it’s been nearly fifty years since we’ve had a decent doctor we could rely on. It’s been one mess in a lab coat right after the next.”
“Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations. I can only promise to do the best I can. I’ll rely on your guidance from time to time with new and old patients.”
Shizune smiled and it seemed as if the shadows under her eyes were nearly gone. “Of course. Anything you need, you just ask.”
“Speaking of which…” Sakura let her words trail off as she looked behind her at the mountain of banker boxes. She would have to close the door to the backroom if anyone else walked in. “I haven’t thrown anything out, but once a patient dies we don’t have to keep their medical records. There are some in there from the 1700’s.”
“Oh those are all active, they just don’t check in on a regular basis. Some of the older ones are terrible about scheduling physicals. You have to hunt them down.”
Shizune laughs at the idea and Sakura suspects the woman imagianed Sakura hunting down a 300 year old creature in the woods with a cell phone or something equally ridiculous shouting about house calls. Sakura prays such a task never becomes necessary.
“Ah, good thing I didn’t discard anything. Still, are there really this many active patients? We legally don’t have to keep records after 8 years in this state. I wouldn’t throw them out if the person is still local, but it looks like an awful lot.”
“Some of the files are quite thorough, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. We had one doctor…actually more than one, that had a habit of keeping meticulous notes on anything and everything. I’m sure there is some rubbish in here we could throw out once it’s organized.” Shizune clapped her hands, drawing Sakura’s attention. “But first breakfast. I brought scones. Share one with me?”
Sakura had forgotten about breakfast after her power bar, but the though of something so delicious made her mouth water. Her nod and doe eyed look was enough to make Shizune laugh. Together the pair ate in the small staff kitchen, leaving the paperwork for later.
When they had finished breakfast Shizune showed Sakura to the back of the office where the opposite receptionist’ desk sat. Originally the building was meant for a join practice with two doctors, or was it one doctor and one witch doctor? Shizune couldn’t remember. Regardless, there was no need for a second doctor just yet.
Shizune said they would set Sakura up with a pager for emergencies and someone named Minato would set her up with a way to travel back in a flash in case of emergencies. Apart from Minato Shizune said she would be delighted to handle any new introductions Sakura might feel overwhelmed with.
The morning was devoted to paperwork, a review of the most popular patient files, and taking stock of the supplies in the office.
It was lunch time when the first patient came in. Shizune had just stepped out to pick up some famous take out when an unknown stranger darkened the door.
hi, i have a prompt for you if you up to it. it’s a for Director Sanvers or Sanvers (whichever you think it works better) with NB!Sawyer. something like DS/S decide to go to a night out and Sawyer got a new haircut and we got see Alex and/or Lucy jealous because Sawyer looks hot af. Thanks!
Hey, thanks for the prompt! I’ve got a draft ready (I combined it with another prompt that sort of fit naturally), and it should be up later tonight! Also I love this prompt because it makes me think of that scene in The Fosters when Stef gets her excellent new haircut and grapples with what it might bean to be butch/overcoming internalized homophobia - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6Px7B-pPKM
Can you write one where soul gets lost in the grocery store and has maka called on the over head thing? I think that would be cute. Or reversed, whichever you think works better. I love what you post, thanks :)
He deserved it, actually.
That’s what she told herself as she strutted up to the glaringly displayed customer service sign. Soul deserved this.
He was being such a dick, as 16 year old boys tended to do, barking at her about how stupid this mission was, and how laaaaaaaame she was being. And how not /fucking/ cool she was.
Maka had finally snapped at him, in the Target down the street from the hotel they were housed in this mission. After his last fucking crack, her vision began to blend with the neon lights buzzing around the store and she politely suggested he shove a boot up his ass and go get whatever the fuck he needed. His middle finger has been as welcome a sight as him finally walking away, leaving her in the only blessed moments of peace she was going to get this mission.
Her plan had quickly backfired, as Soul’s revenge for her bitchiness was to show her how much he has learned in lessons, because he was evading her across the store. She was even trying to use her soul perception, but the little fucker was muting his own wavelength, a new trick he has picked up after swallowing Arachne’s soul, and had been leading her around in circles for an hour.
Finally enraged enough to get to this point, Maka found herself at the customer service desk, a bored teenage boy with gauges and a lip ring asking her how he could help.
“Hi, I lost my friend, I was wondering if you could page him and tell him to meet me here?”
“Sure. What’s his name.”
Maka watched the kid lift up the phone and pressed the page button. Fast as she wielded a scythe, Maka has snatched the phone from the boy’s hand. “Soul Eater you little albino looking piece of shit if you’re not at the customer service desk in thirty seconds, I’m going to start telling this entire store embarrassing stories about you!” Maka slammed the phone down. The recover smashing through the store, and she crossed her arms
Coming down the aisle. She finally saw Soul. He was being dragged down the aisle by a tiny old woman with her hair in a bun. Soul’s face was bright red when he finally meet her look, and Maka could feel herself beaming.
The old woman walked up to her, and put the wrist she was tugging soul by into Maka’s hand.
“Oh I understand. Husbands are so hard to track down in these stores.”
Soul cried out in pain as maka’s hand crushed his wrist, as Maka tried to process what the woman has said.
They did finally manage to leave that Target, only having to go back a few hours lasted to buy an ace bandage for Soul’s wrist.