#--; this is long but i dont care look at my girl

[serendipitous-girl]

𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆

⊱✿⊰ summary: your bestfriend asks you to teach him how to please a woman

⊱✿⊰ warnings: fingering, kissing, touching boobies, fem reader, SMUT WRITTEN BY A MINOR (dont report jst block pls), part one out two maybe, title from a wattpad book I read ifykyk

⊱✿⊰ notes: uhm so im slightly afraid to write smut abt a character ik my sister likes especially since she is in tumblr and knows my account. but like this idea is too good to pass up im sorry gang. Sissy if you see this dont judge ☠️ in fact dont mention it to me unless you liked it

im sorry for sinning 😔

"you want me to...what?" you asked, staring incredulously at the boy in front of you. his hair was a flaming pink, hiding his face in his hoodie. but you really had to hear him again, make sure you knew exactly what he was asking you to do.

"i want you to t-teach me," he stuttered, peeking a glance at you, "how to touch a g-girl."

so you hadn't misheard him originally, he really wanted you to show him the ropes on...sex? you could feel your heart speed up, imagining having his hands on you.

fuck, if you didn't already have a crush on idia this might just take you over the edge. it was to no surprise he was a virgin, he was a major recluse. but the fact he wanted to learn how to have sex, how to take care of the woman? that was more exciting than the actual thought of fucking him. (that was a lie but nobody needs to know that.)

he must've taken your silence negatively because he immediately groaned and said, "just forget it. it was a bad idea to even ask, i'm sorry."

before you could even think about it, you said quickly, "no,no don't be sorry. i'll do it; i'll teach you."

now it was his turn to give you a shocked look, surprised you had agreed. maybe it's weird for two friends to have sex, but you weren't sure you and idia had ever had a fully normal friendship. and if this is the only way you can have him close, then so be it.

but starting off strong might scare him off from the idea of sex - and romance - for the rest of his life. so you ought to start small, very very small.

you got closer until you could feel the warmth of his skin aganist yours, feeling his breath aganist your cheek. you gently grabbed his face, holding onto him delicately. your hands cupped his cheeks, as though he was your whole world and you were trying to contain it between your two palms.

"we can start with kissing," you whispered, watching the way he trembled when your lips brushed aganist the corner of his mouth. he was nervous, so delightfully scared you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in the bottom of your tummy.

he swallowed and nodded, eyes wide and unsure. but that was alright, as long as you were the confident one for him. you brought his face closer to yours until you were kissing.

it was...awkward at first. he smashed his lips aganist yours, accidentally crashing his teeth into you. but then he tried again- softer this time. he savored your taste, letting you tilt his head this way and that to maximize the delicate sensations.

once he got more used to your kisses, you got closer. close enough you were quite literally straddling his lap. his bulge poked into your thigh, coaxing the fire in your core you hadn't even realized turned into an inferno.

you kissed him again, more insistent this time. your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it until he let out a pretty little moan. you took the opportunity to slide your tongue into his waiting mouth, allow your muscle to explore him. to utterly and entirely devour him.

idia whined, pulling away for a moment. he blinked, cheeks flushed and his expression ful of wide eyed wonder. you felt your lips curve into a smile, the slightest flicker of pride when you realized you caused your friend to look like that.

"i want to t-touch you," he huffed, whispering your name like it was a confession of sin. perhaps it was, after all you were now a teacher of seduction. the lecturer of debauchery.

"patience, baby." you said, patting his cheek. he glared at you half heartedly, though it quickly vanished when you rolled your hips ever so teasingly. he groaned, eyebrows knitted together as though he was trying to concentrate on holding himself together.

"i've been patient." idia argued, lifting his hands from his sides to squeezing your hips. it felt nice, the large expanse of his palm pressed aganist the squish of your hips. squeezing it, kneading it...

"alright alright." you laughed, focusing on idia instead of the wetness collecting in your underwear. fuck, how was he getting to you so effortlessly?

now you had to figure out how to possibly get idia to not combust into flames at seeing you naked. (though a small, devious, part of you enjoyed the idea.)

"tell me to stop if it gets to be too much." you said softly, pulling off from his lap. you missed the contact, but it didn't matter much. you would be much closer in a matter of moments.

a strange part of you enjoyed having him stare so intently as you pulled off your clothes, letting each item crumple to the ground. his eyes were so wide, his hair that pretty pink flaming behind him.

you pulled off your underwear until you were left there entirely exposed to your best friend. his eyes were everywhere, scanning every inch of you as if you were a new puzzle for him to solve.

"you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice almost achingly raw. his hands clenched the fabric of his pants, as if he was wishing to reach out and touch you.

"alright, idia." you said, clearing your throat from the sappy and decidedly not friendly feelings forming. you crawled back into the bed, patting it so he was sitting in front of you.

despite your initial hesitance, you laid on the bed and opened your legs for him. you let him stare at your pussy, practically drooling. although you were growing antsy for his hands on, and inside, you. so you didn't last very long with only his eyes caressing your skin.

you sat up and grabbed his hand, placing it on your tit. he practically jumped in his skin, letting out a surprised sound. but it could partially be due to the fact your nipple had hardened so quickly under his touch, pebbled and ready for him to play with.

"most girls need quite a bit of foreplay before the whole sex thing," you explained, trying to remember the whole reason you were in this situation was because he wanted to learn how to pleasure a woman. "and boobs are pretty sensitive so its good to play with."

he nodded, still fondling your breasts in his hands. he glanced at you, as though needing one last ounce of permission before he touched you fully. so you gave it to him, nodding and laying down.

a squeal was ripped from your lips when he suctioned his lips to your nipple, pinching your other. how the fuck did he learn that?

idia popped his mouth off your tit and gave you an anxious look, "i'm sorry! i heard that was something people do and i wanted to try but i didn't realize you might not-"

"its okay, idia." you interrupted, not wanting him to stress over something as silly as your noises, "i made that noise because it feels good. if i don't like something i'll tell you, okay?"

he frowned a bit, blushing, but overall nodded. then as if he was on a mission, he went back to licking and sucking on your nipples. he altnerated between them, making sure they recieved equal attention.

"idia," you said, though it ended up sounding a bit more like a whine. your pussy was feeling neglected, the cool air hitting aganist the slick to make you even more sensitive.

you grabbed his hand, trailing it down your stomach and lower until it brushed aganist your wet folds. he let out a shocked gasp, reanimating his hand and collecting some of the slick.

"you're so wet," he murmured, sort of exploring your pussy like it was some sort of invention he wanted to know how was made. you bit your lip to hide your whimper, wishing he could just find your clit and help you already.

"ngh, fuck," you groaned, giving up on letting him explore. you were needy enough that your head was spinning, your bones were melting.

"can you find go a bit higher, find my-" your voice was cut off when he found your clit, his eyes on your face the entire time. they were wide and innocent, examining your reactions like he was going to write a lab report about it.

he rubbed it in rough circular motions, slightly harsh that tinged the edges of your pleasure with pain. but overall he was doing a good job, even more so when you told him to rub your bundle of nerves more gently.

"do you just watch a lot of, ah, porn?" you asked, your hips twitching whenever he pinched that sensitive bud.

he gave you a shy look and shrugged, "i g-guess. i just tried learning about this online but it's not the same."

you nodded, knowing that was true. if you could get real dick online you'd be a lot more relaxed than you usually are. those with lack of orgasms tended to be rather high strung.

"well you're doing a good job, idia." you said, giving him a smile. it was slightly breathless, broken up by the whimperish sounds you were making. idia seemed to like them though, knowing he was causing you to feel that way.

"put your fingers inside, y-yeah, fuck," you sighed, "just like that."

his fingers were longer than they were thick, filling you up in ways you didn't realize those particular appendages could. he kept them there without moving for a moment, unsure, but when you nodded he started pumping them in and out. he started with two fingers, god were you really that wet? how down bad were you for this man?

"mhm, shit." you mewled, bucking your hips up when he curled his fingers inside of you. he wa still rubbing your clit as he did this, remembering what you taught him.

your core tightened, closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. it was like being on a roller coaster, waiting for the drop. it was going higher, higher, higher still. pausing right at the edge, teetering to make you feel even more blissful when you rushed down.

"fuck, fuck, idia!" you whined all of a sudden, feeling your orgasm slam aganist you. your pussy gushed, creaming around his fingers. your cunt clenched, tightening around his fingers like a vice.

once you came down from your high, you blinked in awareness cutting through the haze of lust. you hadn't even touched idia, was he upset? technically this was about him learning how to touch a girl but it felt embarrassing you came when he didn't.

he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping them with a napkin. so you sat up, ready to ask him if he wanted you to return the favor when your eyes fell on to the very apparent dark spot on the front of his jeans. oh.

he noticed you looking and said loudly, "stop looking! i know it's such a noob move of me but leave me alone! i'm still learning the control to this game."

you laughed in surprise, a bit amused that he was still acting normal. and to be honest you were flattered he came in his pants just at watching you.

"i'm not making fun of you, idia. it happens, okay?" you said, patting his hand slightly. he watched you but nodded, his face still that pretty bright red.

"alright well i got to get dressed before somebody walks in and realized what we were doing." you said grabbing your clothes and hurrying to the bathroom to hide the way your heart fluttered.

you were in big big trouble. now that you've felt his hands on you, how would you ever go back to normal? to just being friends when all you wished was to be his and for him to be yours. maybe you won't get his love, but at least you had his lust for this fleeting moment.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[stonerfromlesbos]

✦ aftercare | billie eilish

warnings: fluffy, bubble bath lots of lots of personal attention.

summary: she wants to be with you for all time, and she would made sure that you knew that.

"it´s okay, it´s okay." billie said holding your tired body beside hers, caressing your hair with her fingers. "you did so good for me, baby, such a perfect girl." she kissed your forehead gently, letting you rest after breaking you. your head now laying on her chest, breathing deeply. "can i get up to prepare your bubble bath, angel?" your gaze was now in her eyes, looking up at her. "of course, bills, js' dont take too long.. okay?" you said in a soft tone, almost whispering.

she just kissed your forehead one more time and got up going towards your bathroom, she could see that you were too tired to even speak properly. billie was the kind of person who could treat you like a princess after playing a role of degrading you. the only moment she was being true was when she told you how much you mean to her, you were the only comfort she had in life. her life as a famous singer was a complete rush, and you had always been the peace she had on her life.

billie saw everything in your eyes, everything she needs to see. the only thing she always wanted for sure, was to have you with her until the end of time. her life was full of doubts, and she loved that with you, there's not even a single doubt. she was yours, and she was so fucking glad that a sweet person like you was hers too.

"babe? all ready here, u okay?" she spoke, coming towards you as you got up to sit on the bed. "yes.. all okay, js' thinking about you." you said with a soft smile. she sat beside you, staring at you as she took a strand of your hair and put it behind your ear. "what kind of thoughts?" she replied, with no malice. billie was staring at you, admiring you like you were a work of art. "the kind of thoughts that make me wanna kneel down the floor and ask you to be my wife." you said it all softly, you truly meant it, and she knew. she smiled, getting closer to you, and finally, kissing you.

it was all slow, billie kissed you in a soft way, it almost seemed like you were a doll and she was so scared to even scratch you. her tongue dancing with yours, her hand going down to your waist, but with almost no pressure there. your breath starting to get shorter, as you two didn´t want to be even a centimeter far from each other. eventually, it ended. her blue eyes now staring at you with all the love she has. "i love you so fucking much." she spoke, trying to hold a smile of coming out. "i love you even more." you replied as she chuckle. "thats impossible, angel. let me help you go to the bathroom now, okay?" you just noded your head, as billie took your body in her arms, carrying you to the bathtub. and putting you on the ground in the front of it.

you quickly entered, sitting on the warm water. "waiting for u" you said as billie was taking off the only clothes she had left on her body. "anxious are we?" she giggled, entering and sitting behind you. both of her arms wrapping your sides and trapping you close to her. "ugh, i wish i could spend all my life here with you." you giggled, carresing her arm. "in a bubble bath after sex?" she giggled "all i want in life is to hold you tight and take care of you, the place doesnt matter." she said almost explaining herself to you.

"i love you in a way that words wouldn´t be enough to describe." you said, opening your heart.

"then show me, i want stay like this with you for my whole life, i want you to be my wife."

taglist: @chrissv4mp @karaeilishh @iluvapplesxh @hkkuugu @bilsdillldough @n0vabug @certifiedwomenlover @dollyvuu @cupidsvzq @dyinbymistake @hailwiggly

[joyfullemon]

Random Mouthwashing Headcannons

hey guys it’s been a while since i did hc’s but i’m back and ready to post (somewhat) regularly, i’m also working on a digital version of my recent daisuke fanart! so stay tuned for that. These hc’s do NOT include nsfw.

Daisuke:

- NEVER wears matching socks, either he loses them or he just doesn’t care. Throws on the first two socks he sees and calls it a day.

-Also owns alot of fun socks, like the kind with patterns and weird sayings on them.

-Has only worked a few other jobs in his life but none of them really stuck (either because he made lots of mistakes or slacked off)

-Terrible around girls, talks about “beach babes” but if he was around them he would fumble so hard.

-Uses old spice ocean scented deodorant and body spray.

-Asian-Latino

Anya:

-Really bad sleep schedule, she has a hard time getting to sleep and staying asleep. Definitely tosses and turns a lot.

-Favorite flower is a Fuchsia (she also loves humming birds)

-SHES SO FUNNY, writes jokes on sticky notes and forgets about them. 😭

-Coffee is a girls best friend, (maybe i’m projecting) but i think she has a heavy caffeine addiction, cannot function if she doesn’t have a coffee or soda in the morning.

-BIG fan of the color purple. She seems like a purple kinda gal to me.

-LESBIAN

Swansea:

-Loves dad rock. Hinder, Nickelback, Incubus. His favorite is 3 doors down.

-Southern accent because he was born and raised in texas, moved to the midwest with his wife when they were 20-something’s.

-So. Many. Candles. He loves them, keeps one lit in his garage at home. (insanely unsafe)

-I don’t think he went to college, but he did live in the city (flirted with a lot of city girls back in the day.)

-Never left the states (this is a small one but i get that vibe from him)

Curly:

-GYM RAAAAT!!!! Works on his glutes way too often. Love’s chest days.

-Not a huge fan of the summer, prefers the winter because he loves snow sports. The winter olympics is his favorite event in the whole world.

-Popcorn is his favorite snack but specifically the ‘healthy’ kind. it’s disgusting but he loves it.

-Cannot pass up a bet for the life of him, In college he would do anything as long as you phrased it like ��i bet you can’t-____”

-Looks good in a beard but won’t grow it out. LET IT GROW KING!!!!!

Jimmy:

-Very well groomed, very confident in how he looks. (he shouldn’t.)

-His favorite show is Bojack Horseman for all the wrong reasons. Type of guy to misinterpret every piece of media he consumes. (DONT SHOW HIM FIGHT CLUB!!!!!!)

-Curly and him went to college together. Still occasionally brings up embarrassing memories of Curly to knock him down a peg.

- idk i don’t wanna think about him anymore

[angy-grrr]

Just another queer ship

I know many of you just are here bc you wanted to see bkdk metas years ago -many have left since then, changed accounts, stopped getting my content, or just moved on to the work others do in the fandom-, but I also know some of you feel at least a little bit like me. You felt connected to this for many reasons, as many as the amount of followers I have, but I want to talk about me, hoping the ones that understand also get to have... something, I guess.

These ships were important to me partially bc of being my special interest, partially bc they are queer; I know some ppl believe its wrong of others to enjoy shipping "just bc they are gay", they just have been a huge part of my life and followed me thru different stages of accepting queerness on its own and on myself. Its kind of funny, how this started when I just tried so hard to be non queer and how it ended when I accept that im a genderqueer lesbian.

I remember back then I saw romance as that uncomfortable pressure of expectation and need of validation whenever an older guy (like young man I mean, I was like 13 so older guy looked like that) was in front of me -bc romance was always like that-, how picking a random guy means love, or how eye contact means im telling that guy Im interested in him. Because romance is always about a boy and girl just ending together as the ending of all stories -if I wanted to do things right, I needed that, I needed to show off a random guy to others, even metaphorically, as long as him and I were never completely alone (this "relationship" needed to be useful for something, for others to see how great I do this, how im a winner in life).

Its funny, isnt it? I really wanted this to be a subversion, to understand how complex these feelings can be and that a girl and boy can be friends and be so important to each other, that the feelings you have for someone "you arent supposed to like" can be real, and strong, and impact you forever.

I dont care about what we got.

To whoever is reading this, if anyone does at all, im guessing you could be another queer person who got their heart broke because the shonen that wasn't supposed to be like other shonen ended up like all the stories do. So to you let me tell you this:

Don't you dare give your heart for this. There are so many harmful many things in this world, and I dont want you wasting your spirit over a story that never cared about us. Im nobody to tell anyone anything but I dont want us to once again yearn for a queer story in the shows, books, comics and movies that clearly dont want us there.

Its normal to feel the overwhelming pressure in your life -there are tons of things to worry about, so many injustices- and wanting to find comfort in media, and how it hurts when the author takes that away from you. Im not telling you to stop shipping or consuming what you watch, im telling you to use that into something for all of us. There are queer shows, music, entertainment, communities, etc., and we can also use fandom spaces to create and see what makes us feel seen -thats the rule of fandom, if nobody has written it then do it yourself even if its ugly and imperfect.

The ending of THE manga that has been by my side for what could be half my life is everything I feared it would be, but Im the most queer I have ever been. The manga wasn't for us? Okay, I'll be part of whatever I create then.

[that-seems-stupid-lets-do-it]

mizuki akiyama singlehandedly saved my femininity and i am greatful

[mappingthesky]

angst prompt idea: they get into a fight and nymphia says ‘just leave me alone’ in the height of emotions but doesn’t really mean it, and jane would actually leave thinking that’s what she wanted, making nymph cry even harder

basically miscommunication at its finest

i said leave (but all i really want is you)

It’s been building in the way that all breakdowns do.

Everything accumulates. The things that are all manageable in the moment - the insecurities, inconveniences, odd interactions and instances of discomfort - start to stack up, sticking to each other like snow, feather-light flakes amassing into unmovable drifts, and suddenly they’re an avalanche crashing down upon her. All at once it becomes unbearable - the weight of the world which Nymphia has fought so hard to remain soft in spite of.

It’s not the first time that Nymphia has hit a rough patch, but it’s the first time Jane is here to see it, and for some reason it’s making Nymphia spiral out, like swerving to avoid the ice and driving them right off the fucking road.

It could be because she’s used to dealing with this alone. That she’s used to everyone assuming she’s alright, used to disappearing until she can find it in herself to be sunny and bright once more. It could be that she’s scared to let Jane see her like this, scared that every day she remains sullen is doing irreversible damage to Jane’s vision of her, whatever it is, and replacing it with this - the slow blinking, soft-spoken, unsure, shell of a girl that Nymphia is lost somewhere inside of. It could be that Jane is being so sweet about it, that every one of her tireless attempts to lift Nymphia’s spirits so clearly comes from her heart, that she’s so obviously willing to do whatever it takes. It could be that, because with every one of Jane’s displays of affection meant to make her feel just a little bit better, Nymphia feels guiltier. More frustrated with herself and her inability to pull herself out of the hole she’s in. More afraid that it’s their grave. More afraid that she’s dug it herself.

Maybe that’s what’s scaring her into silence now, as Jane tries to will her to open. She’s been rattling off things they could do for a few minutes now, trying to coax Nymphia out of the apartment with the promise of a walk around the park, or a trip to the thrift store, or slurpees at 7-11. It’s been days of this, and Nymphia wants it to happen just as badly as Jane does - for something to light her up, to pull her from the place on the couch she’s content to spend the rest of her life wallowing in, for some miraculous gleam to pierce through the low-hanging fog that’s clouding her vision. Jane sighs, and Nymphia feels too heavy to hold.

It’s not Jane’s fault. She’s unfamiliar with the freezing over of Nymphia’s feelings, unprepared for her aloofness after the bright, sparkling fizz of the first few months. She’s doing the best she can with absolutely nothing to go off of. Jane asks for the second time if it’s anything she’s done, and Nymphia feels worse than she did the first. “It’s not you,” Nymphia says, and can’t quite admit the other half of it out of some newfound fear. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why I feel this way. I don’t know how to stop it.

“You would tell me if it was me, right?” Jane asks and it’s like a knife, her voice a thin blade of worry. It cuts right through Nymphia - that Jane thinks she could be to blame, when Nymphia has created this hurt all on her own. The truth is that there’s nothing Jane could do that would hurt her quite like this, in the specific way that Nymphia hurts herself. She doesn’t know how to confess something like that, isn’t sure she would want to even if she did. All she can do is nod, and the hot tears spill over as the thoughts completely overwhelm her.

Jane’s oh, Nymphia is crushed with concern, and she moves to comfort her so instinctively that it makes Nymphia’s heart break all over again, because it’s Jane we’re talking about -Jane, the girl who was too shy to make the first move or say the first I love you or shed the first tear is now breaking through her own emotional barriers to comfort her, coming to Nymphia’s aid like it’s as natural as breathing, and Nymphia is the one that’s too emotionally tapped to know how to respond to that. She feels Jane wrapping around her even though she’s unsure, can feel her wondering how to go about putting her back together, and all Nymphia can manage in the face of Jane’s bravery is to cry into her hands.

“Baby,” Jane says, and Nymphia can hear it in her voice - the mounting desperation, the options she’s running out of. “What can I do?”

Nymphia doesn’t know why it happens - why she goes cold when she so desperately wants to be warm. Why she becomes so irritable, why she leans so hard into her roughness when she knows what she really is - patient, kind, loving. The truth is, she’s exhausted. It’s hard work to be so soft-hearted. Sometimes it’s too much to ask.

So all she does is shrug, mumbles that there’s nothing Jane can do. She hears the words come out of her mouth in slow motion, and doesn’t know why she can’t stop them, why she can’t seem to say this is enough. Just hold me until I stop feeling like this. Just see it through with me.

“Hey. Talk to me, Nymph,” Jane says, soft and urging, like she can sense the words Nymphia can’t seem to bring to the surface. It’s more of a plea than a command, but all Nymphia can hear is the frustration buried at the back of it - the part of Jane that surely must be exhausted from her unrewarded efforts, exhausted by Nymphia’s inability to keep it together.

“I can’t read your mind, baby,” Jane reaches out to brush Nymphia’s hair from her face like it’ll reveal something, like she’ll find some semblance of an answer there. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” Jane says as gently as possible, but it still sounds like a cue, like she’s begging for something to go off of.

“Okay,” Nymphia says, because she doesn’t have anything at all. “So go.”

She can feel it - the moment of impact. The moment Jane pauses, still mid-reach, still tucking Nymphia’s hair tenderly behind her ear. The moment lightning strikes, the moment the air goes electric.

Jane’s eyes go wide. She looks startled, dumbfounded, afraid to move. Her lips ghost open, breath visibly hitching in her throat. “What?”

”Go home,” Nymphia hears herself say, her voice a scrape against her own soul, a contradiction to everything she cares about. She sees Jane wince, watches as the reality sets in, and the right words feel farther away than ever.

“Nymphia,” Jane shakes her head, scrambling to find her footing amidst the shaking of the ground they’ve been standing on. “I don’t think I-“

”Just go, Jane,” Nymphia forces the words through her teeth and can’t seem to figure out why she sounds so angry.

She watches the pain rippling out across Jane’s face, the searing flare of her eyes. The way Jane watches and waits for Nymphia to change her mind, the way she looks like she’s going to reach out again but doesn’t, the way she awkwardly rises from the couch and looks around the room like she should have more to take with her. Like it’s wrong to leave without Nymphia beside her. The way she so obviously doesn’t know what to do with herself - whether to fight or to flee. The way she’s never sounded quite so meek as when she says goodbye and tells Nymphia to call her if she needs anything. The way she shuts the door so gently, like she’s trying to be silent, like she’s scared to upset Nymphia with something so insignificant as the click of the door even as she’s being shoved away. The way she pauses on the other side like she’s waiting for Nymphia to change her mind. The way that, when Nymphia doesn't move, her steps sound different as she walks the length of the hall - heavier, somehow. And then Nymphia knows why she’d sounded so angry - because she’s doing this to Jane. Because she’s doing this to herself.

There’s a few moments where she can bear the quiet, and then it all comes crashing down, because Nymphia is utterly, completely alone. Because she didn’t have to be.

-

Nymphia misses Jane from the moment she lets her slip away.

She spends most of the night sulking in it, recounting everything that led up to the moment when it all went wrong while the sun sets on her and what feels like everything else. She stays there until the room has gone dark, illuminated only by the far off glow of the hallway light, the blinking power button on the television, the electric green of the clock on the stove.

The night passes, and the sun rises whether she wants it to or not. She knows how this goes. She’s weathered this sort of storm before, knows that there’s nothing to do except feel her way through it. She’s done it before, but it’s not until she wakes that realizes she can’t do it again. Not in the same way she’s done it before. The ache is bigger now that she’s let someone in and shooed them away, and Nymphia desperately wants Jane to hold her hand through it, wants to go back in time and undo the thing that she thinks could do her in for the rest of forever.

She does it more times than she cares to admit - types out a long text message to Jane, deletes it, types a shorter one, deletes that too. The various iterations of the apology doesn’t matter. They all boil down to the same thing. i love you, i’m sorry, do you still love me?

They don’t matter, period, because Nymphia never sends them. She’s scared to see the damage she’s done, to inevitably take inventory of what survived her most recent storm. She hopes beyond belief that Jane will be the first to reach out, that she’ll magically know just what Nymphia needs in the way that all star-crossed lovers supposedly do, and is reminded fifteen times that afternoon that there is no such thing - that star crossed lovers are doomed from the start, that’s what makes them so. And just when Nymphia starts to think that Jane must truly hate her, that she must have already moved on and left Nymphia in the dust to chase after happier, more stable girls, she remembers that she’s the one who sent her away.

-

It’s on the third evening without Jane that Nymphia is forced to reemerge. She’s sat in the dark for longer than she cares to admit, has doom scrolled far past the point of finding anything interesting, and has effectively run out of anything remotely appetizing in the pantry. And so she rises, drags herself into the shower and lets the hot water remind her that there’s something inside her that can still be warmed. She pulls on something she can disappear inside of, sweeps her still-drying hair into a ponytail and slips on her headphones. When she emerges from her apartment building and onto the city streets, she’s reminded that there’s still a world out there - a world that will carry on with or without her, a world in which anything can happen. It doesn’t matter that she’s doing it on her own terms, replacing the noxious whirr of the world with her own personal soundscape - as she walks the seven minutes to the supermarket, she’s meeting that world halfway. It’s a win in itself.

She’s only feeling so brave on this particular trip, so she sweeps through the aisles quickly, eager to get home and label today a success, if only for her brief stint in human interaction. She plucks a few things off the shelves, whatever sounds remotely appetizing, and finds herself thinking of Jane; her insistence on satisfying Nymphia’s sweet tooth, on coming home with brown paper bags of flaky pastries or chocolate-covered confections or sweet, doughy balls of mochi. Missing Jane and all of the sweetness that comes with her, Nymphia rounds the corner, and nearly runs right into her.

Jane’s at the end of the aisle and reaching for a bag of those dark chocolates that she’s gotten Nymphia into, because of course she is. Her blonde hair is in a top knot and she’s dressed for comfort much like Nymphia is - leggings, a t-shirt, a cardigan slipping down her shoulder. She gasps ever so slightly, tugs the airpod from her left ear and looks back at Nymphia, a little awed and a little afraid. She looks so soft, so warm, so much like home that Nymphia just wants to curl into her, to give in to her completely.

“Hi,” Nymphia says and her voice wavers, because it’s the first word she’s spoken in two days, the first thing she’s said since she sent Jane away.

If the last Nymphia saw of her was Jane’s complete and total collapse, this is exactly the opposite. Jane’s eyes flash, her chest fills, and Nymphia wants to pour into her again and again. “Hi,” she says, and it’s almost a whisper, almost a smile on her lips.

Nymphia looks at Jane and doesn’t know where to start. There’s a breathlessness between them, a brink that they stand on together. Somewhere between uncertainty and sureness. Nymphia looks at Jane and knows where she wants to end.

Her eyes fall to the bouquet of sunflowers that peek out of Jane’s basket, pretty and plastic-wrapped. Nymphia has a horrible, gut-wrenching thought. Jane interrupts it.

”I, um,” Jane stammers, looking down and shaking her head at herself, mouth closing momentarily, a little ashamed of herself but admitting everything anyways. It’s a little sad, somehow still endearing. “I was gonna drop them off for you,” she shuffles her feet, avoiding eye contact. “And some other stuff,” she says, and Nymphia notices the things at the bottom of the basket. All of Nymphia’s favorites: the instant noodles, the hot chips, the loose leaf teas that Nymphia can never justify splurging on, and the strawberry bubblegum, and the dark chocolates with chili that Jane had been reaching for (because of course she did).

“Sorry. If that’s weird,” Jane sputters in the way Nymphia knows she does when she’s nervous. “I was going to call you. Or text. Um. But I didn’t-I didn’t know if you wanted to talk.”

“It’s not weird,” Nymphia blurts out, and Jane’s head snaps up. “It’s nice,” Nymphia hears herself say, but it’s so much more than that. “I wanted to text you.”

Jane blinks through the disbelief, and Nymphia wonders for the hundredth time what the last forty-eight hours have been like for Jane. Whether she spent them hoping beyond hope in the same way that Nymphia had. She thinks maybe she did, because:

“You did?”

It’s the shyest Nymphia has seen Jane since the very start, when both of them were so unsure and so obviously smitten in the way that women who fall for each other so often are: both so in love and so unwilling to believe that it could be possible.

”Yeah.” Nymphia suddenly feels like she could cry, and is suddenly aware that she’s feeling again. All at once she’s swept up in the exhilarating thrill of risking it all, of surrendering so completely to someone else. “I wanted to text as soon as you left.”

Jane’s breath sort of hitches and the look in her eye is so many things at once -hope, fear, relief, worry. They open their mouths at the same time, both start with, “I didn’t-”, both sort of gasp and start to laugh at each other, and it’s the best sound in the world, because Nymphia didn’t know if she could ever laugh again, if she’d ever hear that sound she loves so much - Jane laughing just for her.

“You go first,” Jane nods, and she could be giving Nymphia a second chance, except she doesn’t quite have to. Nymphia could never fail her, would never need a second chance. Jane would never write her off in the first place, would keep choosing her time and time again.

“I didn’t want you to go,” Nymphia says, because she wants to be honest with Jane; she feels that she owes her that much. So she speaks softly, slowly, making sure that every word is as close to what she means as possible. “I don’t know why I told you to leave. I was scared, I guess. I’m sorry.”

Jane shakes her head, “I didn’t want to go, Nymphia, I swear. I only did because I thought that’s what you wanted.”

”I know. I thought that’s what I wanted too.” Nymphia’s bottom lip is curling out and her eyes are starting to mist and she’s in the middle of a fucking supermarket. “But it’s not.”

Jane swallows. “No?”

“No,” Nymphia shakes her head, can barely get the words out without choking up, but she’s determined. She wants to. She doesn’t care who knows, just as long as Jane does. “I want you there with me.”

Through the first of the tears that are welling up in her eyes, Nymphia can see Jane resisting the impulse to reach for her, just barely holding herself back long enough to ask. “Can I-”

Nymphia sputters, half-laughing. “Please.”

This is the part that makes all the work of letting Jane in worth it - the part where Nymphia is completely enveloped by her, slotting so perfectly into place against her, because she isn’t meant to be alone. She’s meant to be with her. They aren’t star-crossed lovers destined for some ultimate doom, and they aren’t the stars of some great tragedy. They’re something so much simpler. Something so much better. They’re just each other’s people.

“Are you okay?” Jane says against her hair, not daring to let go, not even wanting to, because this is all she’s wanted from the start - to know what to do.

”I will be,” Nymphia squeezes tighter, eyes shut, savoring her return to safety. “Are you okay?”

”Yeah,” Jane says, and Nymphia can hear her smiling. “I think I will be too.”

[girlwiththegreenhat]

hey when they wrote "knight behind bars" and they wrote kitt helping a couple get together and they gave him the line "Some day, it will be my turn" [to find love]. did they know what they were doing. did they know that in some 40 years some gay autistic robot-obsessed little freak on tumblr would not stop thinking about it for weeks and write literal dozens of paragraphs screaming about it on discord. did they know they were going to ruin Me, Specifically, with this concept that feels like the culmination of everything kitt has gone through through the show and such a fascinating thing to think about in regards to michael and kitt's relationship,

one of the themes of knight rider is kitt developing as a Person, developing a line between the Knight Industries Two-Thousand, and Kitt. discovering humanity, his own emotions, the joys of the seemingly and logically pointless, and often through the lens of his own driver, his partner, his friend, Michael - his primary guide through all these experiences, his reference for those human things he doesn't understand. and as much as he initially claims to not be capable of experiencing emotions, of understanding feelings, he learns to. he experiences a wide range of emotions through the show even while claiming he doesn't, he even learns fear and insecurity. perhaps it's only natural a robot would learn to love, or at the very least be terribly curious about it and wonder if such a thing could ever exist for Him

the majority of people are not exactly kind to kitt. they talk about him like he's not there, they talk about him like he's a machine, a novelty, some people are even scared of or disturbed by him when all he's trying to do is make polite conversation and company. he's always Othered - there's no other cars like him (at least not anymore), but there's no other person like him either, he doesn't truly belong among humans or vehicles. some of the technicians at FLAG don't even seem to fully respect him as a person, at least they don't based on my vague recollection of how they talk about him in Junkyard Dog. when Michael asks him after KARR is destroyed if it feels good to be one of a kind again, he doesn't say yes or no - he only says it's a "familiar feeling." it may be familiar, but it's surely also isolating, and i think that's something he'd realize as he slowly picks up this curiosity about love. where could he even find it when so few people see him as an equal person to begin with?

and then there's michael. oh my god, and then there's michael. no matter what flavor you choose to read it in, the whole show is about their relationship, they're a duo, a set Not to be separated, they're Partners. they work together, they worry about and look after each other (forever insane about when kitt was a melted shell, Michael stuck around the garage for hours, waiting for any news like a worried spouse, constantly checking on him every opportunity he got... encouraging him to recover, and even helping paint back on his protective coating... kitt always looks after michael, but for once, it's michael's turn to look after Him), in a way they were Made for each other - Kitt more literally, being programmed for Michael and holding his namesake, but Michael was also made in a sense for the pilot program, hand picked and given a second life to work for the foundation and with this strange supercar. and even if they had a rocky start, michael comes to view kitt as a person - car, TV set, or computer core, Kitt is his partner, his buddy. he helps him find himself, guides him and teaches him about these things that make us human, and in a way, kitt becomes human - but his entire experience is still through the perspective of an AI in a car, it's still very unique and isolating, and I think he sort of grows into his own limitations, he's finally brushing against the walls that define him.

he learns of love, and then he learns to dream Of love. these things he sees in the movies, that michael tells him about, that he so often sees michael Partaking in that he gets so oddly jealous of, doesn't it all seem so wonderful? he's very curious. but who could ever love steel and circuitry, who could ever see him as an equal let alone a partner in a romantic sense? who would ever love a car and all the limitations That comes with? it's a problem for a hypothetical hopeful Some Day, in the meantime stuck between two worlds where he doesn't perfectly belong to either, where no car Can love him and no human seemingly Would love him...

and michael loves him anyway. before either of them really realize or talk about it, in spite of everything, in any form, regardless of the fact it wouldn't be a typical relationship by absolutely any means, michael loves him anyway. kitt is as much a person to him as bonnie or devon or RC, and that person is someone he loves and cares for deeply. the feeling is mutual, kitt's world revolves around michael, he's one of the most important people in kitt's life, and he'd do anything to protect him.

and it is michael that will finally teach him to love, and what it means to feel loved in turn, to be loved as the person he undoubtedly is.

[sieglinde-freud]

WHERE WERE THE AWAKENING SECOND GEN ON JULY 21ST 2023

[mildfevermystery]

Chika SSR #1197 and SR #2242 [Transparent, Edited/Extended] ※ Credit is appreciated but not required.

[milf-harrington]

its so fucking disheartening realising that no one actually sees me as a guy, they just pretend to - and yeah its great being called theo but its less great being lumped in as one of the girls in the same breath

[boxwinebaddie]

Wait so did Ike knoww about Stan and Kyle dating? Also I'd love to hear abt Kyle and Ikes sibling relationship thats so adorable

soooooo long story short:

...y-yes. yes, he Does know.

hOWEVER, IKE DOES NOT KNOW RAVEN IS STAN THOUGH, THAT IS SENSITIVE INFO THAT IKE CAN BE TRUSTED WITH, OFC, BUT IT WOULD PUT HIM IN DANGER AND KY WANTS TO KEEP HIM SAFE.

but long story Long...

i'll leave it in the crotch. xx

( edit: so...my bad, baby. i accidentally went on a crazy TANGENT about ike and jerseykyle's relationship bc i love them a lot and their dynamic is very complicated, so if you want that info about how ike found out about ravesey dating...i gotta put it in another ask.

bc this...got Very long.

you don't have to read this. soz. >.> )

oookay!~ so i got REALLY excited about this because rm!jerseykyle and ike's relationship is super duper special to me, in that, as sp fanfic writer girlie who tends to lean away from a more gentle, kindly, introspective kyle and much more heavily into the potential brutal parts and menacing aspects of kyle's personality when i develop my style dynamics with, ofc, jers being the most brutal of all ncu kyles...

...the way that he speaks to ike -- gently, softly, tenderly -- the way that ike disarms him, the way that j.k. unravels around ike, bends for him, it's one of the ONLY instances written into my actual published canon where we see jers be extremely vulnerable. ( not crying, lmao! )

however, i will say, it was not ALWAYS like that!

*rings the cd re-education bell*

LORE TIME!

so, per my rm!take on the south park lore, ike, ofc, was adopted from canada around age five and he...was Perfect. he was this lil gorgeous, perf, lovely thing, no health problems, dark hair, i like to think his eyes are dark brown, closer to black, sweet kid, easy-going...

...and very NOT like kyle.

and, interestingly enough, i think, At First, that sheila and gerald were super obsessed with ike, cooed over him, he was the baby, y'know? which made jerseykyle MAD jealous of ikey and an Anti from day one.

which is also v interesting because rm!ike, really just fkn Worshipped jerseykyle, wanted to be close to him, wanted his approval, craved that brotherly relationship with him, idolized him...and kyle was NOT having it, dawg! like, it took him so long to even let stan in and let his cold, black heart be light and bright enough in some spots to do That, so he pushed ike away, constantly told him to fuck off/get lost

( i do think that ike's vocab being more vulgar/him being precocious comes from wanting to impress kyle/being influenced by him ), also ike was really fkn smart from the jump in a way kyle wasn't like, to me, jerseykyle has worked hard for everything, studied hard, fought hard, and ike was naturally a child prodigy and didn't have to work that hard for anything, all while being gentle and docile and kind.

-- but going back to STAN for a minute...as a direct contrast to how jerseykyle treated ike growing up...gods angel saint ravenstan was always EXTREMELY KIND to ike. stan never had a brother: okay, he had shelley but his relationship with shelley was even more complex than ike and kyle's relationship used to be and the way shelley treated ravenstan was similar to the way jersey was treating ike, so he Deeply Sympathized with that and endeared himself to ike, encouraged him, and the more kyle pushed him away, the closer ike got to stan.

stan and ike i think ALSO had very similar interests in that they both liked louder, heavier music, revolutionary/counter culture stuff, fighting the MAN, sports ( namely hockey ) i think as a gift, actually, that ravenstan gave ike his wayne gretsky hockey yersey and ike STILL has it ( yes, kyle was jealous ), stan encouraged him to be different and carve his own path in life and while kyle, obvi, was the person most effected by stan's untimely passing...it did also do a number on ike who seriously considered stan like a brother to him and was one of the only other people who Never misgendered stan.

SPEAKING OF STAN DY*NG THOUGH: this was when everything sort of...Flipped. because when stan 'died', whatever part of kyle that could love things also died with him along with a lot of his stability.

so on top of all of his health issues, kyle got really, REALLY gnarly ptsd, would fly into blind rages, got randomly triggered by things and see stan everywhere, have really, really sever panic attacks, had to be put on several medications, got into TOOOONS of fights, etc.

and ike...was just sweet, introverted, lovely ike. stayed in his lane, did his work quietly, existed quietly...while kyle was Loud and VOLATILE.

also, to tie in Another ask where someone asked me while sheila didn't take care of ike as well as she could...fair warning, i am a liiiittle defensive abt this topic because it wasn't that she didn't want to take care of ike or meant to neglect him AT ALL, it's just...when you have a a child who has a lot going on mentally and physically, is more of a firestarter, is more aggressive or more outwardly mentally unstable...

...that tends to require more immediate attention ( especially since kyle was sooo unhinged that he was constantly in police stations, juvie, the psych ward ) and sheila's attention more helicopter parent-y in that she wanted to keep kyle safe, whereas geralds attention was more negative, felt kyle was a failure/embarrassment :/// </3 )

so ike, by COMPARISION to jersey, was VERY low maintenance, did not require to be constantly watched to make sure he didn't hurt himself or others, and so, unfortunately while sheila loved him very much ( gerald just wasn't very interested in him as the second kid other than that he not act up/argue w/ him ) he got swept under the rug because of how pliable and pleasant he was personality wise.

so sheila really does Adore ike, she just doesn't worry about him nearly as much and because of how glaring jersey's issues were, she also mistakenly assumes he's mostly fine where...i really do think ike has pretty gnarly depression, tbh. he is stan coded, i mean that. i will say that him acting out is starting to cause a stir in their house.

anyways...i am sorry this is such a MESS but jerseykyle was watched with laser focus and because of this, ike got off scott free most of the time and received almost no attention. like all his accomplishments went unnoticed or were pretty normalized because the standard he set v young being smart/capable, set the bar high. ilysm, ikey. </3

tldr; ike was The Good Child

and jersey was The Bad Child.

but, in being 'good', he got extremely overlooked by his parents.

thiiiiiiis...is where jerseykyle stepped in. so basically his entire life he was staunchly anti-ike, but he warmed up to ike a lot after stan died because they bonded over talking about him a lot/that grief, and also grew up under intense scary jewish matriarch sheila broflovski and the serious shit show that was having gerald as a father...who jersey actually regularly took shit from so ike wouldn't have to, i.g. when ike did something less than perfect or did misbehaved or fucked up, kyle always took the fall for it and was the messed up problem child, so that ike would essentially spared from gerald's mental abuse/wrath.

ike was also kind of the only person j.k. had in the world, so kyle looked after him because...again...ike is very stan coded, kyle is very protective of the lil gentle hearted people and he basically raised ike in the stead of his parents which forced him to be hard on him in a way that sheila and gerald were not hard on ike...which created a lot of dissonance when ike was becoming a teen and kyle was in hs.

so, essentially while when they were little kids, ike followed kyle around, wanted kyle to like him, thought kyle could do no wrong, as he got older and kyle started to nitpick him, actually care about him and start enforcing rules/curfews on him because no one else did, ike developed a rebellious streak and started to not like or listen to kyle because he was like, bro, whatever, you're so boring, it's one party, oh my god, just because you're boring doesn't mean i have to be!!!!

it's mostly just skin deep though, ike is only irritated because jerseykyle is mad overprotective, hard core and did not gentle parent him as an older brother at like, i shit you not fourteen, like i am so sorry but jerseykyle raised ike basically, and inspite of actin like a heartless monster...loves ike very, very much ( even if he can't say it ) and ike also loves kyle very much. jerseykyle is pretty much the only other person besides firkle, tricia, etc. ( i'll get into that in a diff ask ) that truly gave a shit about him and put weight behind his actions.

so jerseykyle is like ike's older brother/dad, rags on him about doing his homework and being an edgelord

( ike has been acting out a lot, one, because he's finally starting to come into his personality more, which, imo, my hc is that ike is p popular but mostly by accident sort of how stan was because he's pretty and very nice, ike is captain of the hockey team, his accent is cute, gets good grades ( he is slacking right now tho bc hes being edgy as hell ), is a lil skater boy gamer boy, IS V INTO TRUE CRIME, JOURNALISM AND ACTIVISM, creating positive change, exposing injustice, enjoys punk rock music, thinks emo boy stuff is neato,

IKE IS THEEEE DAWN SPAWN OF EVER AND I MEAN THAT, he is a raven of crimson dawn FAN BOY, he is obsessed; i mean that...and despite wanting to make waves in that way, like, he really is kind of an antisocial DORK but lots of girls like him, he gets invited to parties, firkle gets invited by proxy even though people think they are a crazy demonic satan worshiping freak of nature...but ike's super bestie, ofc...their relationship is also interesting...BUT YEAH! IKE! <333 )

also per rm canon, jers does miss ikes birthday every year bc going to south park triggers the fuck out of him which he feels very, very badly about, rags on him but is very pro ike doing what he wants to with reason of not acting like a goddamn FOOL and doing his laundry, his emo dirt bag phase is making kyle's eye twitch ooooof, him bleaching his hair and sticking a safety pin through his lip the second ravenstan walks through their front door while ravesey are secretly broken up and jk is extra mad at him; ITS A HOT MESS EXPRESS, Y'ALL!!!!

if you made it this far...i have to put the answer to the FIRST part of your question with all that dialogue in another ask so feel free to re-ask me that, but to reference it a little...ike is so team ravesey like it is actually painful, that is his ROMAN EMPIRE. firkle actually really does not like kyle bc they think he is lame as hell, help, and is anti-ravesey bc they think romance is a distraction,

( okay, spoiler, but firkle is in love with ike, ike does not know this, ike is super fkn oblivious and is actually very bi, so it's not like he's just not aware he is not straight, he just....actually has no idea, rip, he also has a crush on a girl in his class, it DOES make firkle want to actually dome themself to hear about it 25/8, stupid Feelings, smh, firkle b hating jersey and is lowkey a little jersey coded ) anyways they think kyle dating raven of crimson dawn is going to interfere with the band, their music, their sound and is a hater. like boooo! come on, FIRK! :/

BUT IKE IS A ROMANTIC!!! IKE IS THE JR. RAVESEY CAPTAIN!!!!

tldr; kyle and ike have a complicated relationship but love each other very much and ike does eventually learn about ravesey secret dating bc they are the brothers of ever and cannot hide shit from each other BUT I GOTTA PUT IT IN ANOTHER ASK, I AM SO SORRY, BABY, YOU GOTTA ASK ME AGAIN ABOUT THAT! but i hope this thrills you?

-uncle nina, ceo of insane hs isaac moisha broflovski lore

[jorvikzelda]

today i had this Vivid memory flash through my mind of kissing my ex boyfriend (this was like 2018) and i felt so viscerally fucking revolted and I gotta say. it is truly impressive that I didn’t realise I’m a lesbian sooner than fucking half a year ago

[tenjxu]

Sometimes I forget I literally made this account because I wanted to find a way to express myself without anybody knowing me so yoooooo

Just because you present more feminine or masculine does not equal your actual gender or presentation. This is something that only now I am comfortable thinking about and I used to think that because I'm nonbinary I have to be as masculine as possible to offset the fact I was born a female. However, I realize now that me trying to do that was just ignoring the problem by leaning as far in the other direction as possible. Though it's likely me realizing I am a lesbian that made me come to terms with my femininity too lmao anyways, wear that skirt, put that half top on, show some skin, do what makes you happy and confident because if you can't be happy with yourself you won't be happy with anything.

[dirt-str1der]

just wanna say im obsessed with your mind and i read your posts about kiryu like the morning paper. thank you for your service

(Sweats) e-even the ones about him laying eggs ?

[skincareroutine]

samantha with smith jerrod 🔛🔝

[scaredofmyocs]

I love it when i accidentally stay up on the night im supposed to be catching up on sleep it totallly doesnt make me feel horrible all week long