Looking Forward To This! - Tumblr Posts

𝘗𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘈𝘕𝘛 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘚 📚

Coming soon~

References

The main trio. Consisting of Sun, Eclipse and Moon.

Sunrise

Called in this AU Life. Life is the god of fertility and primarily responsible for the creation of humanity. He is the third god created, one of the oldest. In the past, he used to be the strongest god of all. He used to be the leader.

Life has the personality as Dark Sun (SAMS), although, he is a little more paranoid.

Eclipse

In this AU he is called Death, previously he used to be called War. Death is the protector of Mictlán, he takes care of the souls of the deceased and protects them. Death suffers from amnesia. He doesn't remember his past, nor does he know why he is the god of death.

Death has the same personality as Eclipse (EAPS). Just a little more tired.

Moondrop

She used to be called Death too. She was the first protective goddess of Mictlán and the souls of the deceased. Death, she is no longer here with us.

Death has the same personality as New Moon, before becoming Nexus (SAMS).

(teaser) ditto (hope you feel the same).

summary | being a tutor for a high school girl comes with many responsibilities—like nurturing her skills, furthering her education, and preparing her for class. and not falling for her really hot uncle.

part of the no celestial series.

information | bassist!jaemin x econ-major!reader(f); acquaintances-to-lovers, pop/rock band au, tba; profanity, mentioned mark x karina (aespa), tba; 1.5k words for teaser.

status | uploaded.

“ARE YOU CLOSE WITH NA JAEMIN?”

Karina Yu’s hand stops midway, the spoonful of bibimbap hovering before her mouth. She peers at you, setting her spoon down and leaning back into the chair. She crosses her arms. “What gives?” 

You take a bite of your own lunch, eyes flitting around the cafeteria but refusing to settle on Karina. “It’s not like that.” 

Your friend narrows her eyes. “Y/N.” Karina speaks as if she’s your mother. “You’re asking me about the hottest guy on campus and you expect me to think it’s not like that?” 

“I’m gonna tell Mark you called Na Jaemin hot.” 

“Mark would bust a lung agreeing with me,” counters Karina, rolling her eyes at the thought of her enthusiastic boyfriend. “No one is as loud about Jaemin’s face as he is. But that’s besides the point.” She leans in, studying your expression. “I’m close enough with Jaemin to have one-on-one conversations without it being awkward. I’m also close enough to know that he’s single and has been for, like, basically his entire life. Do you want his Instagram? His KakaoTalk? Or—his number?” 

“Karina!” you groan, roses tickling your cheeks. “I told you, it’s not like that.” 

Karina huffs, clicking her tongue in disappointment. “Well, pardon me for getting excited. This is, like, the first time you’ve asked about a guy since middle school.” She finally eats the spoonful. “So, why’re you asking?” 

You play with your chopsticks. “Remember that kid I’m tutoring? Eunchae? She’s Jaemin’s niece.” 

“Huh.” Karina blinks. “Funny.”

“I’m being serious, Rina.” You flick her hand. “I ended up sleeping over at Jaemin’s place on Friday—I’ll explain later—and I’m basically indebted to him. Do you know where I can find him?” 

Karina finishes the rest of her bibimbap as you conclude your sentence. “Why don’t you just contact him? Like I said, I can give you his ID.”

You scrunch your nose. “I do have his number,” you start, “because he’s Eunchae’s legal guardian. But I don’t know, I just don’t want to text him.” You shoot her a glare. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” laughs Karina, shaking her head. “It’s just funny, the way your thought process works. I can never tell what’s going on in your head. Anyways, you can probably find Jaemin at the ramen shop next to Moonlight. He’s been working the closing shifts every Monday, if I recall correctly.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Just text me,” Karina says with a shrug. “I’ll let you know his whereabouts. But wait, won’t you be seeing him tomorrow anyway? I thought you tutored on Tuesday.” 

You grab your lunch tray, Karina following suit. “We’re meeting at the library tomorrow,” you say, “so I probably won’t see him. Besides, he barely goes home.” 

“Ah, that’s true. Jaemin practically lives in Taeil’s basement since it’s closer to all of his workplaces.”

Workplaces? Plural? You lift your eyebrows. That’s new. You expected Na Jaemin to be well-off or, at the very least, provided for by his parents. Somehow, the last few days have led you to possess information about him that you never would’ve asked for otherwise. 

After separating from Karina and visiting an on-campus café, you find yourself standing in front of the ramen shop located next to Club Moonlight. You’ve been inside the restaurant exactly once, dragged in by Karina who had wished to see the “super hot chef every girl is talking about.” (Needless to say, Karina had been extremely satisfied by the good-looking Chef Yuta and a few of the servers, like Shohei and Keita.) 

Toshi Ramen is a small yet lively place, often crowded by university students craving a taste of Japan. Right now, only two tables are taken, presumably due to the time inching towards closing. 

“Hello—oh, hey Y/N.” Osaki Shotaro, a peer from your faculty, casually greets you. Your eyes widen in surprise. 

“Hi, Shotaro. I didn’t know you worked here.” 

Shotaro grins. “Just started. You here to order? Our dine-in is closed, but you still have five minutes to order takeout.”

You shake your head. “Actually, I’m looking for someone. Is Na Jaemin working?” 

“Yeah, he’s just throwing the trash out. Is it urgent?”

“No, no,” you assure him, displaying a patient smile. “I can wait. Could you just let him know I’m here?” 

“Sure,” says Shotaro. “Have a seat. I’ll bring you some tea while you wait.” 

As per Shotaro’s gesture, you make yourself comfortable at a corner table. You place the small cake box on the flat surface—one that you had bought at the café as a thank you gift for Jaemin. You hope he doesn’t mind real strawberries. 

Shotaro passes by with a cup of hot tea before leaving to serve the other customers. You take careful sips, aware of the scalding warmth, but unable to resist green tea. An elderly couple pay the bill and leave, thanking the chefs for a delicious meal. The remaining customer, a young woman, chats (re: flirts) with Chef Yuta before she gives him a piece of paper, leaves three 10,000 won slips on the table, and exits the shop with a giddy smile. Shotaro and a female server move to clean the tables, preparing to close the restaurant for the night. You awkwardly sit around, wondering if you should just wait outside instead. 

Na Jaemin’s appearance keeps you rooted to the seat. 

“Y/N,” he greets, carding his fingers through his hair. “I heard you wanted to see me?” 

You’re a little taken aback at how gorgeous he is, considering the servers’ uniform he dons. You clear your throat. “I did,” you say, setting the cup of tea down. “I wanted to thank you for Friday, so I got you a small cake from Red Velvet.” 

Jaemin glances at the cake box sitting on the table. “Oh,” he breathes, lips spreading into a lopsided smile, “you didn’t have to. It was the least I could do, for taking care of Eunchae and all.” 

“Still, I wanted to. It’s chocolate cake,” you say, pushing the box in his direction. “Eunchae said you like sweet things, so I got a chocolate one. I hope you’re okay with real strawberries, though, since there’s a few for decorations. Ah—Eunchae also told me you hate artificial strawberries,” you ramble, starting to feel the heat creep up your neck. 

“Thank you.” Jaemin’s voice might be sweeter than the cake. 

“Aha, no problem!” You squeak, avoiding eye contact. You down the rest of the tea and stand up. “I should get going now. Let you finish your shift an—” You falter at Jaemin’s grasp. He holds your forearm, light as to not hurt you but tight enough to keep you from moving. 

“I finish in fifteen,” he softly speaks, gazing gently. “If you don’t mind waiting, I can walk you home after.” 

Unprofessional, meeting your student’s guardian for purposes that do not involve academic reasons. Sleeping over at his place in his clothes in his room. Using the toothbrush he had bought for you one Saturday morning. Bringing him a chocolate cake to the ramen shop he works at. 

Your heart stutters.

Your brain rationalises. 

The private academy may not record every second of your day, but your morals do. Despite the shift in your relationship with Eunchae, you’re still her tutor, she’s still your student, and Jaemin is still her legal guardian. You’ve crossed a line but you can prevent yourself from falling down the rabbit hole. 

You need to maintain a certain level of professionalism, if not with Eunchae, then with her uncle at least. 

“Thank you, but I’ll have to decline.” you say, briefly facing his stare. You quickly come up with an excuse. “I’m meeting a friend for drinks.” On a Monday night? How believable. 

Jaemin nods, stepping away to allow you some space. “Then, I’ll see you later?” 

You clutch the strap of your backpack. “Yeah.”

For some reason, your heart is about to burst as you step outside of the shop. The evening breeze fails to cool your warm nape. Five minutes into your walk back to your dormitory, you realise you forgot to say goodbye to Shotaro. 

It’s dangerous. He’s dangerous. You’ve always been a sucker for pretty faces and Na Jaemin is no exception. In fact, at this rate, he might become your next eye candy to daydream about with no strings attached. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing since everyone has their eye candies, but in this case, it’s bad because Jaemin is not some guy in your stats class that you can ogle over without a worry. No; your relationship with him is seventy-five percent business-based and that’s how it should—shall—stay. 

You slap your cheeks with both hands. Hopefully, Jaemin continues to stay missing whenever you’re over at his apartment. If you gather too much data on his boyfriend material aspect, you might as well kiss your decently paying job goodbye. 

Okay, you grit your teeth and steel your resolve. Time to start Operation Stay Professional with Na Jaemin.

© NABI (2023); ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

taglist | @strangevante @bockhyun @matchahyuck @ablackbtsstan @jlsavy @thesunsfullmoon @hwanunjin @loveazri @sundamariis @just-michell @mora134340 @haechology @leleluvss @loevngyuno @rum-gone-why @dandelionxgal @byungbyungbaek @littlestarjasmine @iheartchoerry @ldhstrap @wonforgyu @lovesuhng @schwizhies

please send an ask or comment on the m.list if you’d like to be added to the tag list! <3

zey is indeed happy

expect some ceo!suna, and secretary reader from me very very soon. That might be my “spectacular” birthday post on friday. I just wanna imagine him in an all black suit.

The King's Royal Guard (a Lucian snippet)

Hair a midnight black that shimmered with deep blue tones in the gentle light of a setting sun. You catch only a glimpse before it has disappeared from your sight again. Like a spectre in the night, you see him only in your peripherals, a shadow of a man, even more silent than his master. But in the moments you've stolen with him over the past several months, you know his handsome face is comprised of sharp lines and fiercely deep amber eyes. They can drown you in fire without a single word uttered from those perfect lips. His body is lean, and his muscles are pulled taut over fair, unblemished skin.

Each dip in his torso is accentuated by shadows, and although it looks cool to the touch, it burns hot when he presses down onto you, shrouded in the shadow of his long, straight locks. His breath scorches your neck as he sighs into your embrace, filling you to the brim while he works to release the tension from his body. A finger slips between your lips so you can suckle instead of moan; the silence must not be broken. You must not be found. Discovery would lead to a swift end to your midnight trysts, something you were not sure you could live without; not after sampling the sweetness of the forbidden fruit that is your king's royal guard.

The Curse (2024)

rotten angelcake ⇾ m.list [M]

↳ banner/border by @sunshinejunghoseokie​​​

⌁ pairing; ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, ceo au, sugar daddy au, slow burn-ish, smut, fluff, angst

⌁ summary; she’s as sweet as angelcake; he likes her honeyed rotten. this is a series of drabbles following the complicated relationship between a sugar baby, sugar daddy and his corruption kink.

⌁ warnings; mentions and depictions of vaping, mentions and consumption of alcohol, taehyung has a corruption kink, mullet!taehyung (yes, bestie this is a fucking warning), dom!taehyung, daddy!taehyung, ass enthusiast!taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, virgin!reader, unprotected sex… other warnings to be disclosed before each chapter.

⌁ status; ongoing

⌁ le playlist 

i. art gallery | 10k | COMING AUGUST 7

taehyung’s generosity does not begin and end with money. it is something else entirely when his diamond rings scratch between your legs.

ii. REDACTED

iii. REDACTED

iv. REDACTED

v. REDACTED

ও let me ease your curiosities ~ fqa

are there only five parts?

nope, this is just something to look forward to. there will be more as their story progresses.

when will you update?

whenever i am inspired and have the time. 

how are you going to juggle three series?

no idea. i have decided to follow inspiration rather than a schedule.  

is this an interactive drabble series?

in some ways, yes. you can request what you would like to see from the couple here. If it does not a) go against their character arches or b) go against the story timeline, i will try to write a drabble for it. 

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

Faint of Heart

(Part One)

Pairing: Eddie x fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You don’t know his name, but Eddie becomes a regular at your diner. Scared you’ll run like everyone else, he can’t bring himself to tell you how he feels, until…

Warnings: Some angst, brief appearance by an unwanted ex, mild threat and violence, 18+ in later parts, strangers to lovers, smut to come…

A/N: disclaimer - I started writing this in the midst of a week long migraine. I was really high and off my face on pain pills and strong migraine medication, so I’m so sorry if this sucks.

•••

“In this moment together

Though we feel worlds apart

Can you lend me your hand

I’m a little too faint of heart”

It’s always 3:18am when he arrives. So punctual and set in stone that you don’t even need to glance up at the old clock on the wall anymore.

You don’t know his name, but you call him Sunny, because that’s how he likes his eggs when he orders every day (except, it seems, on Wednesdays - although you haven’t figured out why, yet).

It’s definitely not a description of his demeanour - Sunny is anything but bright and breezy. He slinks in each early morning with a constant frown set on his brow, shoulders slightly hunched over as if they’re straining under the weight of whatever emotional burden he’s lugging around. Heavy boots clunk across the black and white diner tiles as he heads to the far end of the counter. You could set your watch by the jangle of his chains as he hoists himself onto the very last worn leather stool of the row.

Wordlessly, he’ll go through the motions of reaching for a menu, holding it open in his hands but never really looking at the options. You play along with the charade of giving him a moment to decide on his order before walking over with a small smile and cheerful tone to ask “what can I get you?” whilst reaching for the little pencil tucked behind your ear and writing down his order before Sunny even starts talking: two eggs (sunny side up), bacon, and a short stack of pancakes with extra syrup. You don’t need to ask your usual follow up question, instead just reaching behind for a coffee cup, filling it to the brim with hot, black liquid and sliding it softly towards him.

His leather jacket squeaks when he reaches to take several large gulps from the mug, and you always wonder if his throat is lined with asbestos because he barely seems to register the heat of the drink.

Every morning you offer sugar, but his heavily ringed hands wave you off with a little grunt. If he were anyone else, you’d have stopped offering and being so polite a long time ago - but there’s something about Sunny that draws you back in. The gentle tug of a string in your chest urging you in his direction, despite the complete lack of interaction.

One time he’d glanced up as you placed his plate in front of him. Eyes dark and still as the sky outside, but you saw something buried in them the second your gaze connected. A flash between you so instantaneous, it was gone before you’d registered the way your heart stuttered in its rhythm.

Like the bite of a venomous animal, you returned to the cash register that day knowing something new and foreign was in your veins. You felt it coursing through your bloodstream - changing the make up of your cells with a heat so intense, you’d never recover.

•••

You’re always in the same spot of the diner when he arrives, Eddie could set his watch by your shift routine these days. It’s 3:18am and you’re refilling the napkin holders. Hands working methodically without your eyes really having to follow what’s going on, such is the depth of your muscle memory.

He keeps his head down as he passes, knowing you never seem to look up when he arrives anymore. Eddie hears his footsteps echo through the mostly empty diner, taking his favoured stool at the end of the row - within reaching distance of the old jukebox he loves so much. He puts in a couple of quarters and picks the same songs like clockwork.

You come over to politely take his order, but Eddie sees you write it down from memory before he speaks. Although he keeps his head ducked low, if you were to glimpse beneath his mane of unruly curls, you’d see the way he can’t help but smile at this little act the two of you go through every morning. It’s become his favourite part of the day, not that he’ll ever tell you that.

Eddie doesn’t know your name, but he calls you Sugar in his mind for several reasons. It started because of the adorable way you ask him each day if he’d like sugar in his coffee, despite him never taking it.

By far his favourite reason, though, is the way you hum along faultlessly when Eddie plays Def Leppard’s ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’ from the jukebox. You never seem to realise the way your hips sway to the beat as you’re standing at the cash register, yet Eddie finds the movement utterly mesmerising. Can’t tear his eyes away, even at the risk of you catching him staring.

He finds most of what you do hypnotising, if he’s honest. The way your fingers tap on the counter when you’re bored between customers, or that habit you have of tucking your pencil behind your ear, or how your head tips back in laughter at Old Ken in his booth when he cracks the same crazy jokes - a noise bursting free from your chest and brightening his world like fireworks lighting up the night sky. Eddie feels drawn to you like a moth to a flame, has done since the first time he came to this diner.

If this was the Eddie of a few years ago, he’d have worked up the courage to ask you out by now, but a lot changed for him after that night. People look the other way when they see his scars, kids cross the street. He wants so desperately to tell you how you’re all he’s thought about for the past few months, but the words die on his tongue the minute you’re stood in front of him.

He braved a glance up at you once, as you’d laid his plate down on the counter. Eddie felt the lightning bolt through his chest the second your eyes met. The heat of your gaze, even in that fleeting moment, burned into his soul like being branded with a hot poker.

•••

Sunny hadn’t arrived as usual this morning. At 3:49am, his stool is still painfully empty. A feeling of unease squirms its way up from your stomach, crawling between the gaps of your ribs and settling in your chest.

You have plenty to keep yourself busy with - the cook has called out sick, and despite ringing him several hours ago, your boss clearly thinks leaving you high and dry to run the diner by yourself in the middle of the night is acceptable.

Walking over to Old Ken, you take his payment from the table top, sliding over a paper bag containing an extra portion of his meal. What your boss doesn’t know won’t hurt him. The grin on Ken’s face as he shuffles home is worth the risk a hundred times over.

Your other customers so far had been a small group of college girls grabbing burgers to soak up the booze they’d overindulged in, an older couple on a road trip who sat in silence for the entire meal, and a trucker who had the appetite of a horse but the tipping etiquette of a rat.

When they’d all finally left, you take a moment to rest, loosening the ties of your apron, stretching out the ache of your stiff neck muscles with a tired groan while turning to wipe down the back counter. When the bell above the door jingles to signal the arrival of a patron, it echoes loudly into the now empty diner. An unexpected wave of relief crashes down your spine. That must be Sunny, finally. You hadn’t realised until that moment quite how much you’d come to enjoy seeing him each morning.

The excitement is short lived, however - and as you turn to greet him, the smile falls from your face, stomach plummeting to your feet.

“Aiden” You manage to croak out, mouth now painfully dry “W-What are you doing here?”

Your ex-boyfriend lands his hands on the counter and grins, obnoxious gold tooth glinting beneath the strip lighting.

“Didn’t think you’d be seeing me again so soon, did ya?”

No. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, but part of you had really hoped you would.

•••

“C’mon, y’stubborn old woman!

Eddie swipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his grease covered hand, a smear of black oil staining his pale skin like ink on white paper. With a final twist of the wrench, he straightens his back a little too quickly, thwacking the back of his skull on the underside of the hood.

“Motherfu_” He catches himself, seething through his teeth with a grunt of pain.

Slamming the hood closed, he hops into the open drivers door and turns his keys, saying a silent prayer to whatever deity was awake and listening at this godforsaken hour.

“Come on. Come on. Come on…”

The van engine miraculously splutters into life, plume of dark smoke billowing from the exhaust. Eddie knows he can’t keep his trusty van going forever - her days are surely numbered, but damn if he isn’t still very much attached to his beloved vehicle. He won’t let her go without a fight.

A glance at the clock on his dash confirms his post-shift breakfast is very overdue. There’s a moment of contemplation, Eddie considers driving straight home. There’s a food stop much closer to the trailer park he could grab something from. Turning the radio up, his fingers tap a beat against the steering wheel, bottom lip protruding in thought. With a shake of his head, Eddie throws the van into gear and grins at the screech of his tires on asphalt as he barrels towards his diner of choice.

Towards you.

•••

•••

PART 2 COMING SOON!

Thanks for reading 🫶🏻 Reblogs keep fic writers thriving 🥰 special thanks to my dearest @joesquinns for giving me the push to post this and not be scared 💛

As you may remember, a few weeks ago I made a post about the upcoming Voivod documentary "We Are Connected" which features interviews with various musicians who are fans of Voivod, including Tobias. Above you can see a short snippet.

Here's some news from Felipe, the director of the documentary: so far, the film has been officially submitted to five Canadian film festivals and one in Europe. The world premiere will take place at Fantasia International Film Festival in Canada this summer, though exact date is not known as of now. Digital / DVD release will follow after the festivals. Currently the film is still in post-production, but the work is moving fast. Stay tuned!

it’s been almost a week since we’ve entered the ber (brrr) months, you know what that means, it’s going to start getting colder and darker earlier in the day!