#I’ve had this in the drafts for a while

[sweetfcwn]

say it’s okay - george clarke.

not a request but something i’ve had sitting in my drafts for a while.

you don’t mean to be short with him.

you’re just… tired.

your head hurts, your back aches, and everything feels too loud. it’s one of those days where your skin is hot with frustration and everything anyone says feels like too much. you’re sore, your stomach’s cramping, and all you want is to disappear under your duvet and sleep for a week.

and george—sweet, thoughtful, always-needs-to-be-touching-you george—isn’t helping.

he’s chattering from the kitchen about some video idea, voice light and happy, and you know he’s excited, you do, but it’s all too much right now. the clink of dishes. the hum of the fridge. the high-pitched laugh in his voice. it makes your shoulders tense.

you sit on the couch, arms crossed, jaw tight. he walks into the room holding two mugs, eyes crinkled as he says, “made you a cuppa, poppet,” like it’s the best thing anyone’s ever done.

and you snap.

“i didn’t ask for tea, george.”

he freezes, blinking. “oh. i—i know, but i thought it might help���”

“what would help,” you cut in, “is just… not being smothered right now.”

you hate how harsh it sounds the moment it leaves your mouth. the mug trembles slightly in his hand. he nods once, like he understands, but his smile falters. just a bit. just enough.

“right. yeah. sorry,” he says softly, placing the mug down on the table before stepping back.

he doesn’t say anything else. just disappears into the other room.

and then it’s quiet.

at first, you’re still irritated. at everything. your body, the headache, the world. but as the minutes pass, the fog of exhaustion starts to clear and something else creeps in.

guilt.

you didn’t mean to speak to him like that. you didn’t mean to act like he was the problem when he was just trying to help.

you sip the tea—still warm, sweet, just how you like it—and it hits you all at once.

he didn’t deserve that.

you find him an hour later, curled up in bed with his laptop, headphones on. he doesn’t notice you at first, totally focused on whatever he’s editing. his brows are drawn, lips in a little pout of concentration, and your heart pulls at the sight.

you feel even worse.

you tap on the doorframe softly. he glances up.

and smiles.

not big. not dramatic. just this small, soft thing like he’s not sure if he should. but he does. because he’s george.

“hey,” you whisper.

“hey,” he says back.

you climb onto the bed beside him, curling into his side, and he immediately shifts to make room, one arm going around your waist out of habit.

you bury your face in his neck.

“i was really mean earlier.”

he exhales slowly. “you were just tired.”

“no, i was shitty. i know i was.”

his fingers trace soft patterns on your side. “you weren’t feeling good. it’s okay.”

“it’s not okay,” you mumble. “you were being sweet and i snapped at you.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, expression gentle. “i get it, love. everyone has off days.”

you frown. “i still feel like a dick.”

he smiles a little at that. “well, you did hurt my feelings.”

you blink. “i did?”

he nods, honest as always. “a bit. but only ‘cause i was excited to see you. i’d been thinking about you all day.”

your chest squeezes. “george…”

“but i knew you didn’t mean it,” he says quickly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “i know you. i know your heart.”

you blink hard. you don’t cry—but god, he makes you want to.

“you were so excited about the tea,” you whisper. “and i was so awful.”

he shrugs, soft. “it’s just tea.”

“no,” you shake your head. “it’s not. it’s you being sweet and thoughtful. and i love that about you. i love you. even when i’m tired. even when i act like a brat.”

“you weren’t a brat.”

“i was,” you insist, grabbing his hand. “and i’m sorry.”

he watches you for a moment, then lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles one by one.

“you’re forgiven,” he says against your skin.

you lean in and kiss his cheek. “you sure?”

he nods. “completely.”

and then he grins, playful. “but i’ll accept additional apologies in the form of cuddles. maybe a forehead kiss. possibly a foot rub.”

you laugh. “you drive a hard bargain.”

he winks. “i am a man of principle.”

you settle back into his arms, letting the warmth of him soothe away the last of the guilt. he holds you close, like he always does, like he doesn’t hold anything against you.

and you realize something.

being loved by george isn’t just sweet. it’s healing.

later, you make him tea.

you bring it to him, proud, and set it in front of him with a dramatic flourish. “for you, my patient, angelic boyfriend.”

he chuckles, takes a sip, then hums. “perfect.”

“better than yours?”

he raises a brow. “never.”

you pout.

he kisses you. “but almost.”

and just like that, everything feels okay again.

taglist: @phantomveb @just-yazz @wherethezoes-at @tomhollandismyhusband1996 @cheekytv @clarkeysbedchem @artvscvntymullet @idkwhatthisevenislol @barfurtv @fyuge @ijustwannaread03

[starsinthesky5]

How did songbird react to Joe’s heisman speech?

a/n: wrote this while watching the draft and started tearing up looking at clips of his speech 🥲

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

it was one of those slow, dimly lit sundays—the kind where the hours melt together and the quiet feels like a blanket of its own. they were tangled up on the couch, her body curled into his side, legs draped lazily over his lap, the worn fleece of the throw blanket tucked around their ankles. the afternoon sun streamed through the windows in gold streaks, warming the room, softening the world around them. joe’s fingers skimmed gentle patterns along her thigh, the tv humming softly in the background as youtube cycled through random thumbnails.

she wasn’t even really paying attention until she saw it—that thumbnail.

the video title was plain enough: “joe burrow heisman speech (full)”. the still image showed him in a stiff tux, standing behind a podium with a look in his eyes she hadn’t seen in full before.

vulnerable. proud. a little overwhelmed.

she gasped and sat up straight, nearly knocking the remote out of his hand. “wait—wait, go back. that one,”.

he groaned, “nooo, babe, come on. that’s like ancient,”.

but she was already reaching for the remote, grabbing it out of his hands and clicking play. “i’ve only seen clips,” she said, wide-eyed and already emotional. “i’ve never seen the whole thing. pleaseeee,”.

he sighed, but smiled, giving into her adorable request. he could never say no to her, not when she had that look in her eyes. “you’re ridiculous,”.

“and you were a baby,” she countered, already inching closer to him, climbing into his lap this time. “a soft baby, up there thanking people and…oh my god, you’re already tearing up in the thumbnail,”.

“i was not,” he mumbled, but his arms came around her anyway, letting her settle against his chest, her hand pressed lightly to his sternum as the video began.

the applause faded. the stage lit up. and there he was—22 and unsteady, standing in front of a room full of lights and cameras and strangers in suits. his hair shorter, face leaner, voice just slightly pitched with nerves. she immediately went still, breath held as she watched.

he started with thank-yous. to his teammates. to coach o. to lsu. his voice was calm, collected—until it wasn’t.

“coming from southeast ohio… it’s a very impoverished area…,”.

that’s when her chest started to ache.

she’d heard it before—those thirty seconds that went viral, that raised half a million dollars for his hometown in a matter of days—but she hadn’t heard him say it. not like this. not all the way through. not while she could feel the thump of his heart behind her palm, real and steady and still so full of that same pride.

“people there don’t get a lot of opportunities…i’m up here for all those kids in athens county that go home to not a lot of food on the table…,”.

his voice cracked—not dramatically, just enough to betray how much it mattered. and she broke. completely. a choked sob left her lips before she could catch it. joe turned to her immediately, just in time to see her bury her face in his sweatshirt. “oh my god,” she cried, muffled and breathless. “you were crying up there and now i’m crying and—this is so stupid—you didn’t tell me it was like this,”.

he blinked, stunned for a moment. then, like a traitor, he grinned and pulled out his phone. “you’re actually sobbing right now?” he whispered as he hit record. “you soft little thing,”.

“shut up,” she whined, blindly swatting at him with tears still streaming down her cheeks. “you looked like you were gonna fall apart the whole time! your little voice cracked and your hands were shaking and—and you didn’t even look up when you said athens county, you just…oh my god, my heart hurts,”.

joe laughed softly, kissing the top of her head as she practically dissolved in his lap. she was crying like he had just won the award again. crying like she could somehow go back in time and wrap her arms around the kid on stage. “hey,” he murmured against her temple. “baby. i’m right here,”.

but it didn’t matter. she was too far gone. she kept kissing his jaw through her tears, running her hands through his hair like he was the one who needed comfort.

“you’re such a good man,” she whispered thickly. “you were a good kid, and now you’re a good man, and i just..i’m so proud of you,”.

he went quiet at that. still. she could feel the way his chest rose and fell beneath her hand, the way his fingers curled a little tighter around her waist. her tears hadn’t scared him off or made him roll his eyes. he didn’t tease her after that—not really. he just held her, kissed the shell of her ear, the corner of her damp lashes, her trembling mouth.

“you didn’t need to do that,” she whispered. “you didn’t have to say any of that. and you did it anyway. you’re magic, joe burrow. always thinking of others even in your most special moments,”.

he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to. this was her moment, her moment to see a side of joe she hadn’t seen before. he didn’t cry often, so seeing him up on that podium, infront of so many important figures, crying. calling attention to his hometown. calling attention to a growing issue in the community.

that’s what broke her. he had it all back then, truly. he didn’t need to do anything but accept his award and say a few thank-you’s. and he did just that, yet his heart was still with the people that shaped him into the man he was today. and he couldn’t go on without mentioning that.

that’s what made him so special.

the video faded out. the screen returned to the home menu. but they didn’t move. she was still in his lap, cupping his face now, wiping away the ghost of emotion that he wouldn’t admit had snuck up on him too.

and from that moment on, she babied him like he was the one who’d gotten emotional.

she wrapped him in the softest throw blanket they owned. made him a smoothie even though he didn’t ask for it. fixed him a plate of pasta with garlic bread she cut into hearts just to be dramatic. when he tried to get up, she pushed him gently back down with a hand to his chest. “you sit,” she told him. “you’re my precious heisman baby and you stay put,”.

“babe,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “this is so dramatic. you know this was years ago, right?”.

“you cried in a tux,” she replied. “you lost all rights to complain,”.

and he let her dote. let her coddle and coo and kiss all over him. let her fuss with his hoodie strings and call him “my sweet angel” while feeding him strawberries. and every time she started to tear up again remembering the speech, he kissed her until she was breathless and quiet, smiling against his lips.

later that night, long after she’d fallen asleep with her head on his chest and her hand over his heart, he unlocked his phone and played the clip back.

her face, tearstreaked. her voice, thick with love. her eyes, wrecked over him.

he saved it. of course he did.

because there was something about the way she looked at him when she cried like that—like she wasn’t just proud of the boy behind the podium, but in love with every version of him that had ever existed.

and he’d never stop being soft about it.

[sturniolohouse]

Warm - M.S.

a/n: hiiii, so this has been in the drafts for a while... finally decided to post it. enjoy !! :)

summary: for the first time as a couple, reader and matt attend wedding together, leading to deeper talks about their future... bf!matt

warnings ! : none just cute shit

word count: 1.7k

song: warm - ariana grande

cause im cool, on my own. but it's warmer in your arms

“We should get married here,” I think out loud, my voice getting lost in the crisp January breeze.

I lean over the railing, gazing at the skyline stretched across and reflected on the dark lake. The mountains in the distance stand tall and stark against the night. The stars shine so brightly in New England, each one just as breathtaking as the next.

New England always has a way of taking my breath away, no matter how many times I’ve been here.

The cold air fills my lungs, but the alcohol running through my system keeps me warm enough to ignore it.

From inside, you can still hear the muffled laughter and the distant bass of music spill out through the double paned glass doors, a reminder that we’ve stepped away from the party. But out here, it’s just us and the brisk winter night.

Matt chuckles softly under his breath behind me in response, the sound faint as another brutal gust of wind whips past my ears and through my hair. Goosebumps rise along my neck and exposed arms, but I stay wrapped up in my daydream.

“Alright, kid. Come on, it’s freezing out here,” Matt says, his voice lighthearted as he rubs his hands together vigorously. 

“Like a fall wedding… when all the leaves turn,” I murmur, still lost in thought.

I hear a deep sigh and some silence falls again, which brings me back to reality. 

I turn to Matt, finding him watching me intently; his head tilted slightly, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his eyes ever so glossy– most likely from the wind. 

His chin points towards me, before shaking his head. “You’re drunk.” he finally states, all while biting back a grin.

My jaw drops in mock offense, and his shoulders shake as he giggles at my reaction. His eyes squeeze shut and he looks away momentarily to hide his smile once more, but the crease on the corner of his mouth deepens.

“I’m not drunk, Matt. I’m serious,” I insist, crossing my arms and standing my ground.

I’m really not. My last drink was an hour ago, and I’ve only had two drinks the entire night– three if you’re counting the glass of champagne from the toast at dinner.

I can tell he’s only teasing me, so I let it go, allowing my eyes to wander down his lanky frame instead. 

The outdoor stone fire pit crackles beside him, illuminating his eyes and casting a warm glow along the right side of his face. His hair is tousled, a few strands sticking to his forehead from the sweat we worked up dancing, cheeks flushed from the cold air– evident by the way his breath clouds in front of his face. His hands are shoved deep in his pant pockets, his shoulders hunch against the chill as he shifts his weight to try to keep warm.

Butterflies swarm my belly and I feel myself warm up simply from taking in his appearance alone.

"Have I told you how hot you look in a suit?" I ask, my gaze dragging over him shamelessly– the silhouette of his shoulders, the broadness the jacket gives him. Down to his pants, where they hug his legs just right, making them look even longer.

I glance back at his face just as he smirks, shaking his head and looking away with a hint of bashfulness before recovering quickly.

He licks his lips, giving me a curt nod. "Yeah, I think you've mentioned it a few times tonight, sweetheart," he says.

The urge to be closer to him consumes me, like a magnet pulling me in, needing the familiar comfort of his touch.

He rocks back on his heels, his teeth chattering slightly as I slowly step toward him. When I reach him, my hands slip beneath his suit jacket, arms wrapping around his middle. I hum softly, breathing him in, soaking up the warmth radiating from his body before tilting my head up to meet his gaze, my heavy lids blinking slowly. 

A content smile tugs at my lips as I lean up, pressing a soft kiss to his chin, then his jaw. The scent of his aftershave lingers, sending another wave of goosebumps down my arms.

He looks down at me as I pull away, his hands still in his pockets, but his body instinctively leans in to mine. Molding into me. His eyes soften as they flit across my face and a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. 

“I can’t believe there’s not more people out here, it’s stunning,” I motion to our surroundings and the scene behind me. 

“Maybe because it’s negative 18 degrees out here,” He raises his brows and I roll my eyes, pinching his side. 

He jumps, his body jolting against mine as he yelps but I still keep him close. I laugh maniacally and he barely hesitates before pulling a hand from his pocket, just enough to pinch me back on my ass.

“Ow! Okay, okay– truce,” I surrender, wincing but squirm no further from his warmth.

“Yeah, you know better than to pinch me, you little fuckin’ crab,” he says playfully through his teeth, failing to keep a straight face as I throw my head back laughing.

His lips twitch, betraying the smirk he’s fighting before he places a hand on the small of my back, keeping me steady.

“You’re such an idiot,” I say through giggles, wiping at my eyes—only to collapse against his chest in another fit of laughter.

“Alright, alright,” he grits out, half-amused, half-exasperated, shifting to keep us upright. “You’re gonna take me down with you,” he exaggerates. 

I lift my head, trying to compose myself, but before I can wipe at my face again, he beats me to it, brushing my tears away with his thumb. “You’re a mess, kid,” 

“You just make me happy,” I say without even thinking. It slips out effortlessly because with him, it’s so easy to speak my mind.

His eyes blink once, then twice, like the words catch him off guard. He looks away for a moment, his cheeks flushing a deeper pink. He meets my gaze again, something softer settling in his expression.

“You wanna tell me more about that wedding?” His tigterns his arms around my back. 

My breath gets caught in my throat and now, I’m the silent one. 

“What? You were the one rambling about this fall wedding– go on. I’m listening, tell me more.” He sweeps my hair out of my face with his hands, cradling my head in his hands. 

His attention was all on me. 

“Well, it’d be a small ceremony," I start, my voice soft but certain. "Just the people who matter the most."

“Loving what I’m hearing so far, go on,” he hums encouragingly.

His thumbs absentmindedly brushing against my jaw.

"I want it to be here– well, not here-here. But New England," I clarify, watching for his reaction. "I know how much this place means to you. It would make me really happy to have it here."

His eyes flicker between mine as something soft settles in his expression, like he’s letting himself picture it.

"Early fall would be a good time of year," I continue, my voice turning a little dreamy. "Not too hot, not too cold."

“Best season, so again, I’m loving what I’m hearing.” 

I let out a small breath of laughter, shaking my head. "You act like I’m pitching you a business proposal."

His smirk grows, a teasing glint in his eye. "Hey, it’s a big decision. Gotta make sure I’m on board with it all."

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the way my stomach flips when his hands move back down, locking behind my back. He tugs me just a little closer, closing the space between us, and leans in– his face inches from mine.

His voice drops, softer now, low enough that it feels like a secret meant just for me.

"Okay, okay. But, you know in my head, you’re already my wife. A party to celebrate that would just be the cherry on top." He murmurs into the side of my face. 

I’m not sure why, but my breath catches and my heart skips a beat. My fingers instinctively tighten around the lapels of his suit jacket as I pull back to look between his eyes, his gaze unwavering.

We joke about it all the time, how we act like an old married couple, we’ve lied to servers about celebrating our first year wedding anniversary just for free dessert.

But, I think it was the way he said it so casually, so sure.  

Another flood of warmth runs through me when I see how serious he’s being. 

"Matt," I murmured speechless, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He smirks, tilting his head slightly. "What? Don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true. You’re it for me, kid."

I don’t even hesitate to throw my arms around his shoulders, hiding my face into the crook of his neck. His hands find my hips, holding me gently as he rocks us side to side. Our heartbeats moving in sync– recognizing one another, like they’ve known each other in every lifetime.

I hear the door sliding open before the music from inside floods into the air and pulls us out of our moment. 

“Alright, lovebirds, get back inside. They’re serving the cake now—holy fuck, it’s cold,” Nick calls out, hugging his arms around himself dramatically.

Matt groans, his forehead tipping against mine. “There goes the peace.” 

I giggle uncontrollably, catching Nick’s eye over Matt’s shoulder. Matt doesn’t even acknowledge him, just buries his face into my neck, still wrapped around me like I’m his human shield. 

“We’ll be right there, Nick,” I say, rubbing Matt’s back absentmindedly.

Nick shakes his head in disbelief. “You two are nuts. I think I actually just caught pneumonia from being out here for thirty seconds.”

He bolts back inside, muttering under his breath, and I can’t help but laugh as the door slides shut behind him.

Matt lifts his head and breathes in deep, eyes closed like he’s mentally preparing to reenter the chaos.

I squeeze his hand gently, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall with that slow, dramatic exhale.

“Ready?” I ask, my voice soft but teasing.

He cracks one eye open at me. “No. But… cake awaits.”

I grin. “Cake does await.” I lean up and peck the corner of his mouth, already reaching for his hand to pull him toward the door.

But before I can take a step, he pulls me right back against him.

His hands cup my face, and he kisses me, slow and tender. The kind of kiss that makes your head spin and your stomach flip. The kind that lingers, even after it’s over.

When he finally pulls back, breathing against me, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Okay. Now, I’m ready.”

[manfuckthisimout]

Okay, hello!! I see this is getting some attention and I felt the need to explain wtf has been happening with this.

1. I have a draft of this fic in the works, but I’m kinda torn on whether or not I should make it a series…

2. I’m in college!! My semester is just about to end, but for the past like 4-5 months or so I’ve been extremely busy—so much so I’ve had no time to do anything than get home and immediately face plant into my bed lol.

3. You guys under this post lmk if you want a series??? I’m not sure if I should just finish the draft or draw this out into something good.

Thank y’all so much for your patience! Ik I’ve been gone a while! I’ll be turning my requests back on so you guys can ask for stuff!

Personal Trainer!Claggor x reader.

You got a gym membership for the new year and enlisted his help and guidance with working out.

After a few weeks of teasing him, he can’t take anymore.

“I’m not one of those creepy guys that stalks you in the gym and then corners you into forcing your number into my phone. I don’t do that, I’m very professional. But you…” He takes a deep breath. “You’re making it hard for me to be professional.” He gulps. You trail your fingers up his bicep, sensually running your fingernails up and onto his shoulder to grip. “Then don’t be professional, Claggor.” You plead, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Goddamit,” he breathes, looking away from your face. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, pondering the repercussions of him fucking you.

“Fuck it.” He says, head turning to stare into your eyes. His are like fire, pupils swallowing the now dark stormy grey. “But remember, you asked for this. Won’t be my fault if you’re sore in the morning.” “Sore?” You shoot back. “What makes you so confident?” He smirks. “I’m big sweetheart. Probably bigger than any cock you’ve ever taken.”

Your eyes widen at that.

[tvtoontime]

Hey I've seen that you've not been active recently, I like the comic so far, so I have a question why haven't you been active?

Sorry for not answering questions as of late! I have a few answered ones in my draft!

I DO APOLOGIZE IF THIS POST MAKES YOU FEEL UNEASY OR UNCOMFORTABLE. This post is mostly for anyone who’s curious about the lack of posts. I don’t need any comfort, compliments or reassurance, trust🫡.

(I’ve been meaning to talk about this topic in detail for a while but i know people get uncomfortable with this kind of negativity!)

“STRAIGHT FORWARD” ANSWER:

I’ve been a little less motivated to draw, thinking every drawing or comic isn’t worth looking at. Im not consistent with my art and want to change up everything if i’m not satisfied with it which makes it confusing for everyone else. Dandy’s design is a big example of that.. Lots of comparing comes into play too. I do NOT have a pretty art style what so ever. dgmw, It’s not meant to be pretty but i get embarrassed when I draw something that’s meant to be somewhat pleasing to the eyes but turns out cringy.(dandy & astro comic). There’s such pretty art out there and it feels like im destroying the beauty of the characters. I also feel like I disappoint others consistently since i have high expectations for myself. I want to improve faster and faster so i push myself. At this point i might’ve accidentally over done it. I took a break to see if that’d help things but when i came back there was a TON of negativity on tiktok.(where i started out) which also pushed me away further to draw since i liked seeing positive things about dandys world! I’m not giving up just yet, because i want to live my art and keep inspiring younger or even older artists to draw different angles and so much more!

(I will also point out, whenever I draw, it takes a lot of time. i am unfortunately a slow artist..sigh.💔)

MORE DETAILED ANSWER WITHIN:

TW: LOADS OF SELF NEGATIVITY & NEGLECT.

Let’s start from the top.

HAPPINESS?

Tiktok was where i started posting comics. (i never made a comic before, so that was my “first” time) All i really wanted to do was post relatable dw experiences for the fun of it.

I didn’t realize people would actually like a simplified, horribly colored, comic. Either way, I was having fun.

I got this really weird motivational high when others wanted more or the “next part”. i literally couldn’t fall asleep and wasn’t eating from all the thrill. I couldn’t tell if I was happy or really anxious from the attention.

I got a little afraid once i reached 10k or something like that. I didn’t have a story for the “AU” nor did i ever create one in my life. I couldn’t tell if people liked filler episodes or random episodes or if they really liked the lore/plot.(everyone was angry at qwel for not showing any lore so I got worried about that happening with me and wasting everyone’s time.)

GROWING GUILT.

At one point i took a break from the comic to create some silly little christmas special which,, i should have planned out beforehand. It felt like I made a promise to post every night for december like a christmas advent calendar(that was the plan basically).

Big mistake. I already had an insecurity/fear of disappointing others. I believed i could make these silly little shorts every night. I once again struggled to sleep and eat but this time from guilt that was growing. I finally called it quits on the 7th day(sad ik i only made it to 7 days lol) since a lot of people were concerned once i was late and i seriously didn’t want to concern anyone. I still had ideas but i couldn’t keep up with the days.

OVERWHELMING SUPPORT.

The support from the familiar faces was and still is overwhelming. Everyone was/is so nice and yet i still felt like i let everyone down? I felt like i needed to give more or try harder as thank you for supporting and being there and for treating me like a human being especially when other creators had people pushing them to make their comics. No one asked me to try harder but i felt/feel the need to push myself, or to make a better version each time.

I don’t know how to take compliments. A small thank you doesn’t feel like enough. I want to do MORE but I know I can’t.

TOOK A BREAK.

I didn’t want to take a break, but it was needed. I also needed to take advice from the familiar faces i saw because they were right. I thought I was ready to come back because, I had a story, had a plan to go at my own pace, say a simple thank you for the support, and move along. I also wanted to step out of my comfort zone and become one with the community. (Idk if this was such a good idea tbh LOL. I feel invasive like rodger or shelly.)

FANDOM NEGATIVITY.

I loved the community and how silly we all were back when it was growing. The way people portrayed the characters in their aus, created lore, ships and their names were creative, ocs, and so much more to create a somewhat healthy community. It was Dandy’s world’s prime time for me.

However,,, During March, All i saw was negativity.

No one was negative in my comments, however, whenever i went on tiktok, all it was, was(and still is) negativity. I’m not talking about slimetok or some shit hating on “us” and changing the “💔” emoji to a rotting flower, I’m talking about our OWN community hating on the new updates, hating on certain characters, on aus, on ships, hating on ANYTHING that helped create the community. Some of the community members are also something else. All of this negativity really killed my motivation(personal stuff too). Dgmw, people can have opinions, but holy shit? How much negativity are you gonna diarrhea out???????

We’ve got bigger problems in the world. I already know this! But we kind of need to be happy here and there or else we’ll all be depressed or some shit.(an escape basically.) Unfortunately I used DW to cope which is probably why i’m feeling sad about all of this negative change.

OVERTHINKING DISAPPOINTMENT.

Due to the popularity on tiktok, I felt as though i was disappointing those large amount of numbers. I do feel like i should only focus on the people who are “closer” to the account, but i’ve had another issue with that too. Anyone I feel closer to, I feel like they’re going to be more disappointed not only in the art but they’ll get bored with my personality too? I’m still trying my hardest not to care so much about disappointment but it’s been a little tricky.

Unfortunately I look at my art differently now, hating everything i post and judging myself too quickly. I spent over 150 hrs on the two long comics “Abc song” “Snowballs coming your way” or something like that, and despise them. I also disliked the gigi/flutter/looey comic even though that one had gained the most attention on tiktok.

THE POSITIVE…?

I’m still drawing/posting since people get inspired by the art/perspective and it still makes me feel worthy enough to continue the comic/drawing. I too want to like my art again, so i’m not giving up. also my little sister took my ipad for school projects so i can’t exactly draw much rn…🧍

[laserbobcat]

I don’t know if I’ve seen you talk about this before or not. What was Morgan’s take on finding out that Leshy was Bishop Leshy? And when/how did he find out?

I was wondering about this when I recalled your comic where we saw Heket briefly, considering the immediate wrestling match she had with the Lamb.

It made me wonder how Leshy acted on arrival as well.

It's there, it's brief and it's the funny version.

The legit version is here Leshy lashed out in anger and shock, was smashed into the ground, and threatened into compliance. And begrudgingly started "obeying" as bad as he could. Leshy is not a brooding guy, he's pretty curious and lively by default, so he starts fucking around and getting distracted by things and people. He ends up accepting that the Lamb is a weirdo who will not make the reasonable decision to kill him for some reason, and just chills. Morgan starts being kind with him- until he tries to kill him. That's when Leshy completely stops thinking (he never thinks much anyway) about the whole god-mortal-lamb-kill-revenge thing and just enjoys annoying the yellow cat while avoiding as much chores as possible. I answered this ask super late i forgot it in my drafts sorry!

[crystallizsch]

there’s a bug with tumblr mentions that i kinda want to point out bc i’ve experienced this mistake before and it still haunts me LMAO,,,

and i noticed i’ve been “tagged” in posts recently and when i check them, i’m not actually mentioned anywhere.

SO. if you make a post/draft tagging someone, and then you edit out the tag while it’s still a draft, then post the same draft, it still ends up tagging that person even if the post doesn’t have the original tag/mention anymore. putting a divider between the @ and their user does not properly untag them either after you post the draft. and that notif also stays in that person’s activity even if their mention is not in the post anymore. (this also applies to drafted reblogs)

this is unlike if you’ve already published your post and THEN you add/remove mentions. tumblr would work accordingly by notifying you for mentions, or removing that notif from your activity.

so yeah i’m putting this out there just in case people had a similar issue and wondering why people are still being notified despite removing their tags/mentions.

(i hope i worded this all coherently, i kinda used “tags” and “mentions” interchangeably)

[pupkashi]

volvi a nacer

gojo feels life start anew now that you’re by his side

a/n: hi hi friends ! this is heavily inspired by this song !! i think it’s so sweet and yeah <3 (unrelated but my bf sent me it i was geeking out for a week ok) ALSO GIGI (@4sat0ruu) I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SO MUCH MY FELLOW LATINA 🙏🙏🙏; slightly latinx coded reader bc i can !

wordcount - 2,737

masterlist

translations: mi amor // my love, hermoso(a) // beautiful, mi corazon // my heart, cariño // sweetheart

there was time in gojo satoru’s life that he felt his life had essentially ended. he felt isolated, like no one would ever fill the void he felt in his chest.

he didn’t think he had anyone to lean on when he needed it, opting for a façade of cockiness and jokes when anyone asked if he was alright.

you saw through it all. with a concerned frown on your face as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could and squeezing him.

“i don’t need your hugs, y/n,” he scoffed, hoping you didn’t hear the wobble in his voice, “I’m the strongest, i can take on anything by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but you don’t have to,” you whispered, not letting go for a second. you heard the tremble in his breath, the hitch in his throat when he heard your next words, “I’m right here, you’ll be okay.”

for a split second satoru saw the world for all its warmth and love rather than its faults and challenges. he felt the love and support he’d only ever imagined, the suns warm rays hitting his skin as you held him tightly.

it faded as you pulled away, and he could hear nobara and yuji yelling in the distance, toge and yuta laughing at something.

“I’ll be here if you need me, okay?” you reassure him, your hand lingers on his shoulder for a bit before you walk away.

you’re only two steps away when you feel satoru gently grab your wrist, letting go not even a second after he did. when you turn to face him he looks shocked, as if he didn’t have control of his own body for a second.

“uh- can-” he stumbles over his words, not knowing exactly what to say and not exactly having the courage to say whatever they were.

“yeah, i can,” you smile softly, taking his hand in yours, “how about we get some food, when’s the last time you had actual food and not take out or sweets?” you question.

satoru rolls his eyes, scoffing before counting the days on his fingers, “it hasn’t been that long,” he mumbles, smiling a bit when you shake your head and laugh at him.

it’s been three years since then, somewhere along the way the line of caring friend and something more had been crossed, pinkies interlinking during movie night, a stolen kiss in a maintenance closet when hiding from an upset yaga.

he’s not exactly sure what’s making him reminisce on that day. maybe he’s recalling the way the sunshine felt on his skin, the way it does now as it pours in through the blinds, landing on his bare chest.

“you didn’t snore this time” you mumble, voice a bit hoarse as you wake up.

satoru grins, “I told you I’d stop,” you can’t help but half laugh, cuddling up to him more, “I’d do anything you ask of me sweets.”

“it’s 9 in the morning and you’re already professing your undying love?” you tease, just barely opening your eyes to look at your lover, who’s already staring right back at you, soft smile adorning his beautiful face.

“would do it all hours of the day if you’d let me,” he replies, not missing a beat. you can only chuckle softly, letting your head rest on his chest. your hair tickles him a bit but he ignores it, focusing on the way your index fingers draws random patterns on his abdomen.

satoru lets his mind wander, he thinks how lucky he is.

how lucky he was to be given a second chance at life, to be able to come back from a place so dark, to now be able to quite literally be bathed in sunlight and tender touches.

“where’d you go?” you whisper, adjusting yourself on your side and letting your arm prop you up. satoru is reeled back in, snowy lashes kissing his cheeks gently as he lays on his side to face you.

“thinking ‘bout how lucky i am,” he mumbles, staring at you for a second before a soft smile overtakes his lips, “I love you.” the words never fail to make you smile, you never miss a beat to respond, “i love you more, angel boy.”

“there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for you, you know that right?” he’s focusing on the fuzz of the blanket rather than your eyes, looking up only when you hum in response.

“what if you have to fight off the most talented swordsman in the world for me?” you tease, he’s smiling at you as he sits up.

“then I’ll get a sword and do what i have to do to not lose you,” he answers like it’s the most simple thing in the world, “I’ve fought off worse haven’t i?” his cockiness makes you roll your eyes and chuckle, sitting up and kissing his cheek before stretching and finally getting out of bed.

“i guess so, you’re too strong for any of my hypotheticals,” you mumble, the taller man following you into the restroom, brushing your teeth together before heading into the living room.

“what do you want for breakfast?” satoru asks, his hands are already reaching for the ingredients for an omelette, recalling how you’d been craving one since last night but fell asleep as soon as you’d gotten home.

“what’s on the menu today, chef gojo?” you smile, moving from the couch to the kitchen bar, watching as he took out four eggs and various veggies and meats.

“how ‘bout that omelette you were dreaming of yesterday, sweetheart?” he’s grinning as he cracked an egg open with one hand over the bowl, a trick you’d taught him that took him the course of two cartons of eggs.

“you’re too perfect mi amor,” the words make his ears turn bright red, face flushed as he continues his fluid movements in the kitchen.

three years ago had someone told you the satoru gojo could make omelettes and crack eggs with one hand you would’ve laughed in their face, betting your life savings and then some against the snowy haired sorcerer.

yet here you are; three years, lots of broken eggs, burnt food and nights in the restroom later- you watch the love of your life make you an omelette.

the two of you eat breakfast over small talk, telling him of your plans for the day.

“I’ve gotta run some errands today, i hope traffic isn’t too bad” you trail off, mentally checking all the things you had to do.

“i can drive if you want,” he shrugs, chugging down the last bit of orange juice in his cup before grabbing your plate and placing them in the sink. “i don’t have anything else going on.”

you smile at your lover, “you don’t have to drive me around everywhere, you know that right?” satoru knew your distaste for being behind the wheel, he only saw it as an opportunity to pamper you and treat you like the royalty you were.

“i know, but i love driving you everywhere,” he grins, walking next to where you were seated and bending over to kiss your temple, “I’ll be your loyal chauffeur for as long as you’ll have me, hermosa.” the word is foreign on his tongue, it slips past his lips naturally, just the way you’d been teaching him common phrases.

“hermosa? who’d you learn that one from?” fighting the smile off your face was a predestined loss, barely hiding how over the moon you were at the new pet name. your words are teasing as you stand from the kitchen bar, stopping right in front of your lover, looking up at him.

“duolingo was hitting on me, actually,” satoru replies, a dimpled smile on his face when your arms snake around his neck, pulling him downwards so his lips met yours.

“can duo fight?” you laugh between kisses, pressing a softer kiss to the tip of his nose before detaching yourself from him.

satoru is ready before you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching- no admiring, your every move as you get ready. his mind is filled with a whirlwind of compliments he can’t seem to get out, overcome with an overwhelming sense of love for you.

you’re an aura of warmth, kindness and love, and angel sent for him. a caring soul, who nurtured him back to health; through late night calls that ended with you in his apartment or vice versa, gentle reminders and tight hugs helping him through his toughest nights. through forced outings to fairs and arcades, despite his protests that he has been doing things other than working with his students and going on missions (he hadn’t).

it had taken time, but satoru had healed.

your love had healed him.

“oh i can’t do movie night Friday” you frowned, watching as the second and first years trained.

“oh? why’s that” satoru was caught off guard, you’d never been one to cancel on him.

“i- uh- I’ve got a date, actually” you chuckle, staring at your finger nails before looking at the man next to you.

“a date?” he repeated, heart sinking and stomach falling as you nodded with a smile.

“nanami set me up with them, didn’t know he actually had friends besides us,” you smiled, trying your best to ease the palpable tension.

you’d gotten up and left shortly after that, some lame excuse he can’t remember now. he did remember angrily walking into nanami’s office, accusing him of hating satoru and wanting to see him suffer.

“have you thought of- i don’t know, maybe telling y/n how you feel?” kento sighs, trying his best to focus on the report he was filling out before satoru had barged in.

satoru hadn’t thought of that, but he took his friends advice and marched up to you three hours later, confessing his feelings upfront.

“don’t go on that date, they don’t deserve you,” he began, immediately taking you back, “and maybe i don’t either but just give me one chance and i swear you won’t regret it.”

“what’s up with you today? maybe you shouldn’t drive” your words pull him out of his memory, blinking once, then twice before fully coming back to his senses.

“do you remember when you told me you had that date?” he asks, watching as you furrows your brows, the corners of your lips turning upwards as you recall the memory.

“oh yeah! then you confessed like an hour later” satoru nods, blushing a bit. “what about it?” you ask, moving to sit next to him, taking his larger hand in yours, tracing soothing circles into his skin with your thumb.

“i didn’t even know i liked you then,” he admits, “i just felt this terrible feeling in my stomach and yelled at nanami for wanting to ruin my life.” the revelation makes you smile a bit, “he told me to tell you that i liked you and only then did it dawn upon me that i had romantic feelings for you.” satoru laughs at himself now, looking at you with sparkling blue eyes.

“well, you were- and still are a bit of a dummy” you mumble, pulling his arm so satoru can lean against you, letting you rest your head atop his. “my silly angel boy.”

angel boy.

the first time he heard you say that he quite literally stopped in his tracks, smiling from ear to ear before picking you up and spinning you around. ‘say it again!’ he kept asking, blushing just as hard every time the pet name left your mouth.

satoru loves grocery shopping with you, checking off things as you put them in the cart. he thinks you look angelic against the backdrop of produce, heart fluttering as you look for the best bunch of cilantro.

he could do this for the rest of his life, he thinks to himself. the realization makes him bump against the display, thankful nothing fell over.

satoru gojo wants to marry you.

he wants nothing more in his life than to be with you for as long as he could. he wants to spend his mornings and nights besides you, he wants to make you breakfast and help you cook dinner, he wants to wash the dishes because you hate washing them, he wants to wake up to Cumbia and bachata on Sunday mornings as you clean, joining you and singing in broken Spanish as you serenade him with a broom.

it’s not as romantic as he’d once imagined, he thought the realization would come to him as the wind blew through your hair, or the golden rays of the sun kissed your cheeks.

instead he’s watching you pick out a two pack of steak, looking at him with a wide smile, “the prices dropped!” you grin, giddy as you happily put the meat into the cart, practically skipping down the line of raw meats.

he can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he wonder what to do next, mindlessly following you around the grocery store with the cart, every aisle affirming the fact that you’re the only one for him, especially as you tell him to get one sweet treat for the week as you go and get the milk.

he’s staring lovingly at you as you wait in line at the register, watching with interest as your eyes light up, “cariño can you get the eggs? i completely forgot,” he nods immediately, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning on his heel and heading towards the eggs.

satoru lets the thought of marriage ruminate in his mind, recalling the times you’d talked about marriage, agreeing that you’d want to marry him. what if you’d changed your mind since then?

later that week as satoru is passing you the salt, he asks you the question that’s been eating at his mind. “do you still wanna get married?”

you chalk it up to his usual insecurities, turning around and kissing the tip of his nose and both his dimples. “‘course i do, angel boy” you reply, not missing a beat, “why? everything okay?”

satoru nods, eyes fluttering shut when your lips are pressing against his. “everything’s perfect,” he mumbles against you, smiling and chasing your lips for one more kiss before he passes you the butter.

one month later satoru is under the shade the cherry blossom trees give him, with you staring down at him, mouth still agape from seeing him get down on one knee.

“mi corazon, I’ve loved you more than i thought possible, you’ve breathed life into me when i thought there was no reason to keep living, you bring out the best in me everyday,” he begins, hands shaking slightly as you stare back at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“i want to be by your side for the rest of my life, i want to find you in every crowd, save you a seat next to mine and end my days with you in my arms,” satoru tried to ignore the thumping of his heart in his ears, “i want to be the only one lucky enough to be loved by you, will you marry me?”

you’re nodding quickly, mouth still covered before you’re throwing your arms around the snowy haired man- your now fiancé. “of course, yes!” you laugh, sniffling and wiping the tears that had fallen as you squeeze him tightly. “i love you cariño, i love you so so much” you grin, pressing your lips harshly against his, not caring when your teeth bump against his as you both smile, the spring wind causing pink petals to fall around the two of you.

there was a time in gojo’s life when he thought his life was over. he looks back and smiles, how was he supposed to know the best part of his life was only starting?

the void he once felt in his chest was now overflowing with the love and patience you poured into him; sickeningly sweet pet names and tender touches to ease his mind.

satoru can’t help but smile when he wakes up next to you everyday, grateful beyond belief he decided to be vulnerable that day in the courtyard.

“already staring at me lovingly?” you teased, making satoru grin, dimples on his cheeks as he hummed.

“something like that.”

[jealousjersey]

Maybe Derek and reader grew up together in high society but their paths divulged and he's a dick now but the reader still likes him

Sorry for the ramble but something like that would be cool!

- 🦭

ooou yes!! i picture it as something like this

💸- you and derek weren’t the closest in your private highschool, maybe had a few dinners together… underage drinks as well. and he was always not the nicest person. but he was tolerable and funny and that’s all you really needed. even when he was being a dick, he’d always stick up for you. you think he had a soft spot for you.

recently you’ve heard a lot about his success through friends, coworkers, family….and it got you to think about how it used to be between you

you got a text message from “ddanforth1996” on instagram

@//ddanforth1996: hey, how you holding up? it’s been a while. drinks?

sounds perfect, it’s been too long.

@//ddanforth1996: amazing. i’ll pick you up at 9

9:00 couldn’t come sooner. you’ve missed talking to him, although he was hands down the meanest guy you’ve ever talked to, you still wanted to impress him. you put on a sparkly dark green dress, a pair of gold heels and expensive gold jewelry. you look incredible.

9:00 rolls around and you hear a knock at your door, it’s derek. derek in a button up green shirt with animal print jacket complimenting it it. he had his hair slicked back and a gold rolex on his wrist and gold studs in his ears.

“you look…pretty.” he says. your insides begin to do flips at his compliment. “you look very handsome.” you reply to him.

he opens the door for you to get inside his rolls royce. an expensive car for an expensive man.

he takes you to a bar and buys you a drink, he’s noticeably rude to the bar tender but you shake it off, it isn’t your place to say anything. nonetheless he is buying you drinks, so who are you to complain?

you attempt to hold his hand as he goes off on this poor bartender. but he ends up snapping at you. “don’t fucking touch me.” he barks to you. you flinch almost, not expecting this treatment from him. you put your hands back in your lap, trying to ignore the pool filling up your panties. why are you feeling like this? you’ve never been sexually attracted to derek before. so why now?

maybe it’s his sudden dominance? whatever it is, you want more of it. you liked this side of him…the demanding side, the side that doesn’t care.

derek yells a little more at the bar tender, before a man approaches you and offers to buy you a drink. “the fuck do you think you’re doing? this is my date fuckhead.” derek said to the man. the man doesn’t back off immediately, not really intimidated by his height.

“dude. calm down, we aren’t even a thing.” you growl at derek. this makes him mad, but he doesn’t snap at you this time. he downs his shot of whisky and leaves the table, finding some waitress to grope on. of course they’re gonna let him, he’s derek danforth for christ sake.

you can’t lie you do get jealous when he kisses a random waitress hotly in front of your eyes, but seeing him slip a $50 in her bra just shows you he’s trying to make you jealous.

but can you really be mad at him? you’re missed him so much. but god, he’s a dick.

[sunnysidemage]

Gojo gives a class assignment

[cheriecoke]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[commonboa]

I've seen multiple posts where people bring up the statistical evidence of trans men's high rates of poverty, suicide, sexual assault etc. and although these things are super important its fucking infuriating that we have to bring out the fucking scientific studies in order for people to maybe give a shit about what happens to us.

[1driedpersimmon]

You know how lizards, as a defense mechanism, can like just drop their tail?

Yeah

[mr-president]

gothic twink who can talk to bugs proclaims himself the “most sane person in the party”

[junicult]

contains ; suggestive conversation (pillow talk typa stuff). sappy sappy cheesy & corny fluff! just the way i like it! established relationship — dating. two ppl in love blah blah blah. gender non specified reader. he is all i ever think about.

note ; hello! didn’t wanna look at this in my drafts anymore. boo!

“what’s the wildest thing you’ve done in bed?” you ask, smiling over the rim of your near-empty glass of wine.

your lips are well past stained at this point, dazed eyes holding a curiously eager gaze with the man sitting similarly before you.

“the wildest thing?” harvey repeats, eyebrows raised, looking around as if to search for his answer.

“yeah, like, the craziest thing you’ve done while having sex.”

you’ve been playing this little question game for hours now, concept of time nothing but a distant thought after you both downed even more glasses of wine a single bottle could fill. it’s been a while since you’ve been able to relax like this, which is well in agreeance with your boyfriend.

you’re quite tipsy at this point. facing him on your living room couch, legs crossed and arm propping your head that’s perched against the back of the couch.

he purses his lips, shaking his head in deep thought. “i dunno…i guess um,” he presses a knuckle to the upper rim of his glasses, adjusting them, “i guess the kitchen—having sex in the kitchen, probably.”

you furrow your brows, giving him a long look. “in the kitchen?” it’s your turn to repeat, this time confused.

he shrugs and nods.

“with me?” you ask, more clarification than uncertainty in your tone.

“of course with you.”

“no, i’m speaking in general, like out of everyone you’ve ever had sex with—what was the craziest thing you did?”

“i know the question. i said have sex in the kitchen.”

you stare, unwavering eye contact glued to his. you know him, you know he’s definitely telling the truth, yet somehow you were shocked. “that was your craziest sexual experience?”

“i take it wasn’t yours, huh?” he snorts, giving the contents in his glass one small swirl before he leans over and places it on the coffee table.

you laugh airily, “i mean i…told you about the ferris wheel—“

“—ah,” he cuts you off, shivering, “yes, not my thing.”

“so let me get this straight,” you mimic his previous gesture—placing the glass on the table—, using both of your now-free hands to hold out in front of you. “your craziest, absolutely wildest sexual experience was on that kitchen table?”

he flicks his gaze past your head to where you’re pointing your thumb behind you. he suppresses a quirked up lip from the recollection.

“well, i didn’t say it was absolutely wild. but if i had to pick, that would be my answer.” he murmurs, and despite the topic, he’s managing his typical flushed cheeks and nervous lip-nibble well.

“wow,” you lean back with a light laugh. “i’m honored.”

“i’m glad.” he smiles.

he reaches back for the last sip of his wine, taking a short whiff of the glass before savoring the last drop. maybe he’s biased, but your wine will always be his favorite. he never allows it to go to waste.

it’s late. his eyelids rest heavily over his pupils, contrasting your wide-awake gaze. you’re eager to move around, emphasizing most of your words with hand gestures while he’s remained put for the last couple hours. despite his tiredness, he soaks every minute he has with you just as he does with your wine.

you clear your throat. “okay, so now i have a new question.”

“alright.” he nods, leaning into his hand.

“what was the best sex you’ve ever had? it’s okay if it wasn’t with me.”

he exhales from his nose at that, smile to accompany his cheeks.

“well, it was,” he confirms, once again looking off to the side. although, he doesn’t pause long, seemingly prepared with his answer. “i would say, after you told me you loved me.”

you beam immediately. “i knew it. you’re such a sentimentalist.” you tease, reaching over to pinch his thigh. but you soften, laying your hand flat and gently soothing your thumb over his pants. “that’s mine too.”

“really? even more than the ferris wheel?”

you scoff. “oh, absolutely. a million times better.” you wave a hand dismissively, and he tries not to let the comment go to his head. “that was purely just to say i’ve done it. at least you can make me finish.”

of course his cheeks set aflame, due to the ego boost and vulgarity. you smile as he purses his lips after murmuring an awkward thank you. it’s always so amusing to make him flustered, given such an easy task.

you sigh, rolling your head back against the couch. your fingers lightly tap at your t-shirt clad stomach, eyes wandering each crease and ridge in your ceiling during a moment of peaceful silence you’ll always relax into when you’re with harvey.

it’s only then do your eyes feel heavy, and it finally dawns on you just what time it is, and how early you have to wake up tomorrow.

“it’s late,” you conquer, staying put, “do you wanna stay—“

“i’ve got a question.” he hums. you turn your head, remaining relaxed against the cushions, to find him looking off towards the dimming fireplace in front of you.

“yeah?”

“who was the…if you had to rank everyone, uhm,” he presses his knuckles into the cushion beside his thighs, readjusting himself but not without a clear of his throat. “who’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

you allow a smile to creep onto your face. it seems purposeful he’s avoiding your eyes, the golden hue of the crackling fire causing his warm skin to glow. his lips look a little pinker due to the light—or maybe the wine—and from your angle you can see his dark brown eyelashes clearly from the space between his glasses.

you let out a faux sigh, almost taunting.

“hm, that’s a toughie.” you snicker, now readjusting to sit sideways on the cushion with one leg crossed and the other dangling over the couch. “out of the whopping four?”

he gives you a peek, subconsciously wiping his palms across his pants wordlessly.

you almost want to tease him a little longer—the shy purse of his lips making it just so easy. yet you give up quick, leaning in to snake your arm around his neck and press a hand to his cheek.

“without a doubt, it’s you. don’t even have to think about it.” you giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his warm lips.

“really?” there he goes, yet again doubting himself.

“harvey, i’ve never been in love like i am with you. i’ve never been with someone and started picturing marriage after the second date.” you croon, so close you can nearly press your forehead against his. you look down at his lips. “it’s not just because of the sex—but believe me, that plays a good part. no one has known how to love me like you can.”

he swallows, mimicking your gaze and fixates on your lips as you continue, “you make me feel so comfortable, and so appreciated. you’re so sweet, and caring, and reliable. i can tell you anything.”

his fingers are warm from the fire, and he delicately uses them to push pieces of your hair that have fallen in front of your face, blocking his view of you.

just as you’re about to go on, he stops you. both of his hands finding purchase at the crevice of your neck, while his lips meet yours. not just a peck, a deep and meaningful kiss that forms all of your praises into the action. the same kind of kiss that takes your breath away, even before it started when you quietly gasp as he tugged you close. he ignores the way his nose bumps into yours, instead tilting his head to the side once you melt into him, pressing a flat hand against his chest for balance.

it’s deep and needy. the wine somehow tastes even better off your lips, his tongue selfishly stealing some of the sweetness. in some ways you think you could genuinely go stupid just from the way he kisses you.

he takes a moment to pull away, the exact way that has him sucking all of the air out of your lungs and leaves you chasing the feeling and making your brain grow fuzzy.

letting you go, he licks his lips and drops his quick gaze down to yours before looking back in your lidded eyes. he’s so impossibly skilled at taking your breath away, literally and figuratively.

“like a starved man,” you tease, masking your faint whimper with a chuckle.

“i know,” he swallows. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

he shakes his head, padded thumb softly pressing against your bottom lip where his gaze sits.

“not possible.”

[23fallencomets]

chapter 9: working and working

miss me :)? just one more part and the model!logan series is official over 😪

logansargeant made a new post!

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logansargeant: back to business 😎

user94: are you not going to anymore races ☹️

user95: they just got back from summer vacation

user96: ugh i’ve missed your modeling posts

logansargeant: i’ll be posting more once i get into yeh swing of things again 😚

liamlawson30: so no more races 😞

logansargeant: you should be glad i’m even showing up to one 😐

liamlawson30: yeah as oscar’s wag 😒

oscarpiastri: 😁😁

arthurleclerc: you still owe me a race

logansargeant: i’ll pencil you in, i promise

frederikvestiofficial: me too!

[twitter]

logansargeant posted a story!

oscarpiastri made a new post!

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oscarpiastri: another trophy for the books, thank you to the team!

logansargeant: absolutely insane move you pulled on charles, see you at home!

oscarpiastri: ❤️

logansargeant made a new post!

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logansargeant: home for a breather and then all over again