#andi❣️

[andy-clutterbuck]

Andy vs. Lucille IGN 2016

[lilacevans]

Lila!!

Hi bubs I hope your okay firstly and for your header thing could i get one with Chris and Andy please ❤️❤️

hi honey!! i'm doing good & i hope u are too! here's your header, i hope u like it!!❤️

send me 2 c.e characters & i'll make u a header (reqs close, saturday 12pm)

[femmefaggot]

guilt

[calibabii21]

this has been in my drafts for 5 days😭

thank you for the tag(s) @wonhosmistress & @neoculturecollectives 🤎

oh😭? but I'm completely competent. hence why I'm the lead intern but okay😭😭

tagging: @jenoslutie @brownsugarbaybee @thesafecafe @atinystaypixie

[jaemmphilia]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

THANK YOU MAMA ANDYYYY 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

[calibabii21]

hiiii hehehe

TEAL = We have a lot in common.

RAINBOW = BED PLZ.

SCARLET = You have influenced my decision/thoughts on something.

MAROON = You taught me something new.

PERIWINKLE = You make me laugh

MAUVE = You are really talented

BLUSH = Seeing you on my dash makes my day a little better.

LAVENDER = You inspire me

RAZZMATAZZ = I would share my favorite food with you

SAFFRON = I love your ideas

TIMBERWOLF = I trust you

FALLOW = I want to run through the Northern wilderness barefoot with you

CHARTREUSE = You’re my homie

BURGUNDY = I get excited when I see posts from you

baby caaaaakeesssss🥺🥺

edit: idk why it's taken me so long to post this but ilyyy🤝

[freesomebodybyluna]

...

[golden--doodler]

I’m reblogging this for Day Four (Platonic Relationship Day) of @seemoreseymoursbay Week!! I had an absolute blast working on this Comm for @babsvibes.

"Back to you, Andy!"

"No, back to you, Ollie!"

Here's an adorable Commission I had the absolute pleasure of doing for @babsvibes for @seemoreseymoursbay week. Yes, I know I'm posting it super early, but I just had to!! Look!! It's the Pesto Twins and they're so flipping adorable 😭❣️

I feel so honored that I got to do a Comm for Babs for a fandom event. I feel as if when you're an artist and you get to do a Comm for Babs for a fandom event, you've made it.

[ID]: Digital fanart of Andy and Ollie Pesto from Bob's Burgers. They are shown from the waist up, and Andy is seen from a regular view, whilst Ollie is seen from a complete side view. Andy has one eye open and is winking with the other, whilst Ollie's other eye is covered because of the side view. Andy is wearing a bright green shirt, and his hand is on top of Ollie's. Ollie is wearing bright orange overalls, and the two twins have identical-looking smiles. Their hair is also bright orange and quite fluffy. To further distinguish the two, Ollie also has some freckles dotting his face.

[cowgurrrl]

It Ain't Me Babe

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: A holiday present from me to you ❣️

Summary: Ellie’s first art club meeting [2.8k]

Warnings: creative insecurity, mentions of financial instability, teacher things, Ellie talking about Sarah, more flirty flirt, I think that’s it??

Nothing has ever been as annoying or guilt-inducing as an unfinished piece of art. Sure, every artist— no matter the medium— has felt like an uncreative, unoriginal hack, but it still feels just as new as it did the first time. Moonlight streams through your window as you glare at the canvas, hoping for an idea or stroke of genius. It's late. You should be in bed, especially since it's a Sunday night and you spent your weekend working at the bar down the street. But you're holding a paintbrush between stained fingers and praying for a miracle. It's been eight months since you last sold a piece for a whopping $200, chump change when it comes to living in Austin these days. Even with two jobs and doing commission work, you're living paycheck to paycheck. Maybe that's why it's so hard to create? That has to be the reason. You don't remember it being this hard when you were younger.

Creating art was the only thing that brought you solace during your teenage years. It didn't matter if it was drawing, pottery, painting, sculpting. All that mattered was that you were doing it and you were good. You won awards, scholarships, and attention. Your art teacher, Ms. Henry, was a godsend. Grey-haired, glasses-wearing, colorful Ms. Henry glided through lessons and projects like it was second nature. She always had pencils in her hair, a mug in her hands, and a kind word on her lips when you entered her classroom. She's the one who pushed you to go to your artsy liberal arts college full of people richer and better than you. Even with her love and support, you struggled and almost dropped out after that first semester. 

"There's always someone better," she told you when you ended up crying across from her in a coffee shop. "But there's nobody in the world who can make what you will because there is and never will be another you. I mean, God, what a gift. I'd hate to see you waste it." That sobered you enough to keep going and eventually pursue a teaching certification. Ms. Henry has since retired to the Pacific Northwest with her wife, Mable, and sends you a postcard every once in a while because she believes smartphones will be the downfall of civilization. After so many years in education, you're ready to agree with her. 

You sigh, feeling your motivation fluttering away with your breath, and plop your paintbrush down in the cup engraved with the words "DO NOT DRINK" in bold. The canvas doesn't look like much of anything right now— just a mass of colors and shapes that could potentially pass as an abstract version of a landscape. It looks like the other painting you left at the school to work on when you have time. And the painting before that. And the one before that. You curse at exactly the same time your phone buzzes with a text. 

You awake?

You don't bother responding and go straight to FaceTiming her. She picks up on the second ring, her beautiful, round face greeting you with a smile. You met Andie during high school, and her effortlessly cool attitude and bulky violin kit quickly became a part of your heart. You two were inseparable all four years of high school, dividing your time between rehearsals and time spent in the studio, but college took you to art school and her to a prestigious orchestra program in Vienna. She's been there ever since graduation, playing for diplomats and royals alike, but she comes home for holidays, and you've been trying to save money to go see her. Being so far from her is hard, but you make it work. 

"Why are you awake?" You ask by way of a greeting, more than accustomed to your seven-hour time difference and her early riser habits. She laughs, and you hear a tea kettle whistle in the background. 

"Well, hello to you, too," she says. "I have rehearsals all day today, so I got an early start. Why are you awake?"

"I'm staring at my waking nightmare." 

"Oh, God, are you having another spiral?" 

"I'm a hack."

"You're an artist."

"I got rejected again this weekend," you say as if to prove your point, and she sucks her teeth. "They said my art didn't fit their vision for their exhibition, but to feel free and submit another time."

"Well, they must not know great art when they see it. There will be another exhibition and another chance for you to show off your amazing skills. And when you get accepted, which I know you will, I'll fly in, and we'll drink fancy champagne and talk shit the entire opening night." She says, and you sigh. Her persistent optimism is one of the things you love about her, but sometimes, all you want to do is sulk. 

"Or I could fly to you when your first composition gets performed, and we could do all those things in Austria instead of this shithole."

"Hey, some of us like that shithole."

"Some of us haven't lived in the shithole in ten years." 

"Touche," she concedes. "But I'm serious about what I said. You're a good artist, just going through a little bump in the road. One day, we'll be really sexy and successful, and we'll look back at this and laugh with our rich spouses while drinking expensive wine."

"One day," you say, smiling. "How are rehearsals going?" She groans at the question, and you laugh. Whenever you talk to her, she's working on a new show or with a new conductor and always has something to say. There are many things you could call your best friend, but lazy is not one of them.

"I feel like we're stuck on this one part, but the conductor won't listen to me. He says he knows better than I do, which might be true, but also, if he just listened to me, then we can move on. I don't know. I'm sure if I poke him enough, he'll have to listen to me."

"Sounds reasonable." 

"That's what I'm saying," she says as she shuffles her coffee mug and breakfast to her dining room table before checking the time. "It's midnight there. Don't you have school tomorrow?" She asks, and you sigh.

"And an early morning staff meeting and art club after school." 

"Sometimes, I worry about your mental health." She says, and you laugh a little too deliriously to prove her wrong. You stay up talking with her for a while before finally getting hit with a wave of fatigue and crashing into bed. 

The next day is not any less hectic than your weekend was. The staff meeting early in the morning is mind-numbing and completely unnecessary. The printer in the teacher's lounge breaks halfway through a heavy-duty print job, and you're left scrambling for new activities and lessons. Not only that, but your students were more out of control than usual, prompting a veteran teacher to come in and scold your class on your behalf. It would be kind if it didn't make you feel two inches tall and your students didn't look at you like you betrayed them. You spend your planning period indulging in the silence of your empty classroom and fighting off a migraine. 

The second the final bell sounds, your art club kids are knocking down your door, more than ready to work on their projects for the winter showcase. The winter showcase is hosted by a local art gallery that opens for submissions from students every fall. If a student's work is taken, it gets shown in the gallery, and they get entered into a prize to win money and a chance to paint a mural downtown. It's a big deal. So far, you haven't had a student win first place, but you've had them get very close. You always assure them you're proud of them no matter what, which is especially true when Ellie slinks into your classroom with a shy smile.

"Hey! We're just setting up supplies to work on stuff for the showcase. Do you have something to work on?" You ask, gesturing to the students working around the room in a buzz. 

"I think so. Are you gonna play music?" 

"Who do you think I am?" You make a face, and she laughs. "Why don't you find a spot and get comfortable while I queue up a playlist?" She hesitates for a second before she takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to approach another student to ask if she can sit with them. They start chatting easily, and her shoulders relax as she gets more and more comfortable with all the new people. You put on a random playlist and move around the room to answer any questions about colors or give an opinion when asked for one. Over the course of an hour, Ellie makes her own little group of friends, and they all talk as if they've known each other forever as they work. She seems so in her own element, and you can't fight the pride beaming in your chest. Okay, so maybe your job can be pretty cool sometimes. Not fame and fortune cool or traveling overseas cool, but cool nevertheless.

Students gradually start packing up their things and leaving when they get texts from impatient parents in the parking lot or close to dinner time, but Ellie stays behind, bobbing her head to a beat or bouncing her knee under the table. She's the only one left in the classroom when you start packing your stuff and preparing the room for the next day. "You've got a ride home, honey?" You ask, and she glances nervously between you and her phone.

"Yeah. My dad should be here soon." She says. 

"Alright, well, I've gotta lock up here, but I'll wait outside with you until he gets here."

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It'd make me feel better knowing you weren't left behind. Plus, I'm the adult responsible for you until he picks you up, so it's kinda illegal for me to just leave you here." You say, and she looks hesitant again but nods. Together, you walk out of the classroom and through the empty hallways until you get out to the scorching September afternoon. You stand outside in silence for a few seconds, taking in the sunset, before you turn to look at her.

"How'd you like the club?" You ask. 

"It was fun! I met lots of cool people."

"I told you, kid. You just needed to give it a chance."

"I know, I know," she rolls her eyes, and you smile. "Thank you for pushing me to go. I don't think I would've gone without you." She's so genuine and kind in her tone that it throws you off-kilter. You're used to being berated by students, staff, and parents. To be told you actually had an impact on someone is not commonplace, to say the least. 

"I'm sure you would've found your way there without me." 

"Maybe, but you helped me get there a lot sooner than I would've on my own." She says, and you take a deep breath. It feels nice to be acknowledged, especially after the day you've had, and Ellie seems to sense it. You're looking for something to say when she looks down at her shoes and kicks a stray rock. "Just take the compliment and move on. Don't make it a thing." 

"Alright." You say, laughing, and she cracks a smile, too. Traffic will be horrible on the way home, and you have nothing to eat for dinner, but it's okay. You did one good thing today. That's all you need. 

"Sorry, my dad is taking so long." She changes the subject, a touch of anxiety creeping in, and you shake your head. 

"Does he always work late?" You ask, and she shrugs.

"Sometimes. Dad and Uncle Tommy have been picking up jobs to send money to my sister in Boston. "

"What's in Boston for your sister?"

"Medical school. She's about to go into her internship at a hospital there."

"That's a big deal." You say, and she hums. 

"Yeah. She'll probably save the world or something one day." There's a hint of something nostalgic in her voice, and you decide to push just a little. 

"Do you miss her?"

"A lot," she says. "She's my best friend."

"She's lucky to have you." You say. She smiles but doesn't say anything. You want to ask more about her family, but a rickety, greenish pickup truck comes rumbling through the parking lot before you can. Ellie shifts her backpack on her shoulder as her dad and uncle come into view, and you smile at them. Joel, however, looks frantic. 

He's unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the driver's side door before the car can even finish moving. There's dirt on his pants and a little bit of a sunburn across his arms, the muscles straining across the black fabric. He politely pulls the ball cap off his head to reveal sweaty curls as he approaches you, jerking his head toward the truck at Ellie. "Why don't you wait in the truck with Uncle Tommy? He's got a snack for you." He says, and Ellie lights up at the mention of food. When you're alone, he tucks his hands in his pockets and gives you an apologetic look. 

"'M so sorry. We got caught up at work and lost track of time. It won't happen again." He says, wringing his hands like he's waiting to be scolded, but you wave him off. 

"It's okay. Things happen, and I'm just glad she's got someone picking her up." You say. 

"How'd she do today?"

"Really good. I think she fits right in."

"She make some friends?"

"I can't give away all my secrets. What else are y'all gonna talk about at the dinner table?" You tease. 

"I guess that's right," he says as he stares at you, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "Thanks for waitin' with her."

"It was my pleasure." You say. You stand awkwardly for a few seconds, rocking back and forth on your feet. His eyes are locked in yours, and there's a silent competition to see who's gonna blink first. "Well, I should let you get home. Have a good night." 

"Uh," he starts, stopping you before you can even fully take a step. "I wanted to apologize for the other night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't make me uncomfortable," you say a little too quickly, and he smirks. "I was very flattered. Besides, it's not the first time."

"Beautiful woman like you, I'm sure you've got 'em linin' the block for a chance with you." He says. You're dancing a delicate dance here. You're not not flirting, and you're not not interested in him, but if your principal finds out, it could cause a whole new world of problems. Still, it's nice to be wanted after so long of being on your own. You're not a saint, but you're also not doing anything inherently wrong, right?

"The teacher thing usually freaks 'em out before they can get very far."

"That's a damn shame." He's quick with it, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the line. A buzz in your bag reminds you of the time and why you're still at school, and you find your footing again. 

"Uh, I usually give out my contact information to the parents of my art club kids in case they need anything or need to contact me quickly. Since Ellie's an official part of that, I figured I should give you my phone number in case anything comes up. If that's alright?" You say, and he pulls his cracked phone from his back pocket. 

"Yeah, yeah. That's more than alright." He says, handing it to you to punch in your information. 

"It's for emergency purposes only."

"What d'you consider an emergency?"

"Mr. Miller-"

"Joel." He corrects, and you give him a look as you pass his phone back. 

"Don't abuse it. I'd hate to have to put you in a group chat with all the PTA moms."

"You're evil." He groans, and you laugh. Tommy, leaning over and honking the truck horn, interrupts your conversation, and he shoots daggers through the back window. 

"I'll see you next week, Joel." You say, dismissing him, and he hesitates for another second before nodding.

"See you next week." He says and turns on his heels to get back in his truck. You think you vaguely catch Joel scolding Tommy for being impatient, but you ignore his deep voice and the engine sputtering as you walk to your own car with a little more pep in your step than this morning.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 (look at how many of you there are!)

[machetegirl109]

bae i need a barbie one shot from u

hmmm, will a series suffice? ✨💕this is like very loosely ib barbie bc first of all: i havent watched it yet... its more about a doll rlly (its like toy story 3 when andy goes to college and the toys go craaazy but its barbie n lesbian) if u lovely peoples would like to read it lmk and stick around ❣️

click here and follow the post's instructions if you want to be added to the taglist!

((yes thats marie ulven... i told yall i would make her my abby🤷🏻���♀️))

[oneshotnewbie]

Station 19 request:

A oneshot where Reader is a good friend of Maya, Carina, Vic, and most of all Andy, but does not work at the fire station. She comes to eat lunch with them whenever she is free from work and they notice that she got thinner. Maybe something angsty with death/illness/sickness? I just have this plot in mind and no ending so maybe you could do something with it. Just wanted to share it with you because your stories are wonderfully writing and always allowing me to dice into another world when life gets rough. Thank you for writing and sharing ❣️

⚠️Trigger warning!⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of cancer, throwing up and some swear words. These plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

Summary: Life and death are two ends of the same rope. You can be dead while living your life or you can live while slowly fading away. You are fading away. Drowning because you have lung cancer. There is no putting it nicely. Every breath you take feeds your life a new chance, but also takes it away. Being diagnosed with cancer was a painful punch in the face and it did not help as you watched your family crumble apart under the weight of the news.

---

You stared at the stack of new documents on your lap, your body bolt upright in the seat of your car. You closed your eyes, sat back with a sigh and shook your head, tears slowly feeling their way to the surface. "Fuck!"

With the back of your hand, you wiped away the cold, wet sweat that had formed on your forehead and took a deep breath. You could not lose your composure now. A little too hectic, you widened your eyes again and stuffed the papers roughly into the glove compartment.

You did not want to see it anymore. You just did not want to know anything more about your condition. You did not want to deal with it anymore, not now when you were trying to have a nice lunch with your family after being unable to come for weeks.

Annoyed, you started the engine and drove out of the hospital parking lot. But you could not ignore and forget it that quickly what the doctor had told you based on the blood count and the subsequent tests: bronchial carcinoma.

But you did not understood it. You had never held a cigarette in your hand and always thought about your health. Every minute your thoughts wandered to the words of your doctor, hardly really concentrating on the road. It was a miracle when you parked your car near the driveway to the fire station safely.

The engine rumbled to a halt, unbuckled your seat belt and stared at your second home. Your heart sank in your chest at the thought of sharing the news with your family. You took a deep breath, followed by a cough and opened the door.

A fake smile crossed your lips as you stepped onto the threshold of the vehicle hall and looked around. Everyone was deeply engrossed in their work, chattering and laughing wildly. And you would completely destroy the happy atmosphere in a few minutes.

"Y/n!" you heard someone yell surprised and your gaze shifted in that direction. You discovered Vic, who came towards you beaming with joy and a big grin. "What are you doing here?"

On one hand, you would love to let her pull you into a strong, comforting and warm hug. On the other hand, you just wanted to hide away and be alone. Not talk about it with anyone, especially those whose hearts you would break.

They would give you hell if they would find out you have knows for months.

"I wanted to surprise you with homemade and delicious stuffed chicken fillets in rosemary sauce," you explained, earning cheers from the entire crew who had overheard your conversation.

A moment later you found yourself squeezed between Vic, Ben, Jack and Dean in an embrace and your body intuitively responded to this warmth and protection. You really had to pull yourself together not to grab onto the woman in front of you and collapse into her.

Even when your friends broke away from you, you were still stuck in a void. Only a door that opened and closed somewhere far away made you become a woman over your body again.

"Look at this," while Dean gently pulled your car keys out of your hands and set off with Gibson to get the food from your car, a blonde trotted towards you with Carina by her side. Her gaze was hard, her iron blue eyes pierced you before her facial expressions softened and a smile crept onto her lips. "The lost Y/n L/n has returned."

"Come here, principessa," the brunette added with a laugh to her wife´s comment and happily hugged you. You started losing yourself again, this time in the lovely, elegant and timeless perfume of the OB/GYN. "We have not seen you for weeks!"

Maya, who was standing nearby, inspected you and raised her eyebrow suspiciously. "Have you lost weight? You have gotten thin, practically disappearing," the blonde said simply, the words just gushing out of her.

"Just been extremely stressed lately," you sidestepped her, which was not even a lie. You have been stressed between hospitals, bad news and decisions. You looked at Maya intently, swallowed audibly, letting her frown without dwelling on it further.

During the time you stood there between your friends, trying to be happy, reality blurred before your eyes and you imagines how separate parties would mourn you.

Andy, you knew that for sure, would have the most trouble with it. After the deaths of her father and Ryan in such a short time, she would be completely devastated with your loss of life. She would run through fires aggressively and completely wrecked for a time, with no qualms about losing her own life. She already lost everything she ever cared for.

Made of steel, the gold medalist would look tough on the outside but would break down on the inside and hide it from everyone else. Even though you did not get along at first and she saw you as a competition, you won her love by showing friendship, softness and kindness towards her. She was incredibly fond of you.

Victoria would walk around happily after a short time of your death, even telling strangers stories and experiences from your time together outside of work for just remembering you, before the moment comes when she suddenly realizes the reality of you not being here anymore.

Carina, who brought you into the Station19 family in the first place, would grieve just as much as she did for Andrew. Starving for days, her appetite disappearing while being depressed and unable to express her emotions.

"Y/n, are you really okay? You look really pale," the Italian hooked and you felt her hand on your shoulder, shaking you slightly. You just nodded, tried to smile genuinely while you saw the intrusive look Maya gave you, which was literally crushing you from the inside. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"It is time for a delicious lunch. Come on, honey."

As you walked down the long and seemingly endless hallway, your only thoughts revolved around the forthcoming conversation with your friends. It was not going to be easy and you knew tears would flow, albeit your own.

---

"I need to tell you something," you started the final and most important conversation. Big eyes stared up from their full plates and judging by your look, all smiles from their lips and happiness in their eyes disappeared. Their facial expressions matched your confused, stunned and sad one.

"Uh oh.. let me guess, you are pregnant!" came from Jack and you bit your lip hard, his jokes not getting through to you.

"I am sick," your gaze frantically wandered around the room and you felt your heartbeat quicken. Your hands started to tremble and with difficulty, you were able to cling to the wooden table you stood at. Your vision blacked out for a little moment, the quick jump-up a little too much for your battered body.

Shock settled onto the silenced room and Jack looked down, embarrassed and remorseful at his stupid comment.

"What do you mean by that, preciosa?" exclaimed Andy. Her voice suddenly sounded thin and not at all like her own. Fear reflected in her eyes. She was afraid of what kind of information awaited her. She swallowed hard and briefly closed her eyes while the words you said swirled around in her head.

Seconds passed with everyone sitting across from each other in silence. "Answer me, please!" Actually, the Spaniard did not want to hear the answer at all, the fear over-weighing her but she had to know. "I was diagnosed with cancer," was your simple reply.

All noises died down and the expression on your friend´s faces showed sheer shock. Andy felt herself getting sick and made it to a trash can just in time before she emptied her stomach contents. You slowly walked up to her, gently starting to stroke her back.

"Tell us that´s not true!" Salty tears ran uncontrollably down Victoria´s cheeks and you looked at her with sad eyes before she jumped up and threw herself into your arms, clinging tightly to you from behind.

"Chances of recovery?" Maya asked, dropping into her chair. Her voice sounded broken. You could tell from the vibration in her voice that she was trying to stay strong and swallow her tears. She was a wreck, more shell than a person in this given moment.

"Please do not worry so much," you whispered almost inaudibly, earning serious and angry looks that sent shivers down your spine before Maya laughed bitterly. "Y/n, how do you picture that? You are our family!"

"What are your chances of recovery?" Andy meanwhile had stood up from her garbage bin to look you in the eyes. Her eyes were glassy, her pupils wide open. She was in visible shock. You gave up, tears falling unhindered down your face, which you tried to catch with your sweater sleeve. "Almost none.."

"Oh god," she hastily pulled the trash bin back towards her and vomited again. Her head was spinning and she felt like she might faint at any moment. Again, you rubbed her back soothingly, like you always did when she was feeling bad.

But what would happen if at some point you could not do it anymore? If you.. if..

Andy swallowed hard. She could not finish that sentence and the idea that there would soon be a world where you were not there for her whenever she needed you the most. You were her best friend. Her lifeline. Her better half.

"Despite the slim chance I will make it, trust me. You will not get rid of me that easily,"

"Y/n.." Victoria whispered in your ear and pulled you closer. Upset, she cried like she had never cried in her life. She leaned further over you and placing lots of small kisses on your beautiful hair.

"We trust you, bella," Carina forced out through sobs, her first words since your statement. She was in shock too, even though she had seen it more than enough times in the hospital. But hearing about it in her circle, in her family, broke her heart. "But not this illness."

[calibabii21]

thank you for the tag baby cakes😘 @neoculturecollectives & krissy🤭 @multifandomslxt

lowk I have so much in the works AND I'm contemplating leaving tumblr..but I will still share a lil bit hehehe

The room’s silence only being broken by the lewd squelching of your pussy has your nails digging into both of the men's thighs.

“One of you better open your mouth and say something.” Your threat holds no weight as they feel you contracting against their fingers, your eyes and head rolled back.

They both chuckle, Doyoung’s unfazed and Hyuck’s smug, “Aw hyung, I think the slut is getting embarrassed.”

Doyoung doesn’t look at him but rather focuses between your legs, “You shouldn’t talk about our little angel like that. Besides, she’s my slut, aren’t you, Angel.”

His eyes meet yours as you nod with a fucked out expression, “M-Mhm.”

You suddenly feel something hot and wet against your core and your head snaps to Haechan, now between your legs before turning back to Doyoung with a pleading whisper, “Please daddy, p-please.”

He curls his fingers inside you as Hyuck’s tongue joins their pumping, simultaneously lapping at your bud, “I’m not sure what you’re asking for precious.”

tagging: @jenoslutie @jasminexox5 @atinystaypixie @onyourhyuck @pennedbyeve @thesafecafe @chrollohearttags & anyone else wanting to participate :))

WIP tag game!

post the last 7 sentences you wrote and tag 7 people

thanks to @miniseokminnies for the tag!! <3

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he says through gritted teeth.  “Choi, can you please enlighten me as to what the fuck is going on,” you ask nervously.  “Fucking SHIT,” he shouts, not elaborating.  “CHOI.” “Stop the car,” he gripes, his head in his hands.   You apply the brakes, as you couldn’t keep going even if you wanted to. The car ahead is blocking the whole road, and the trees on either side are preventing you from being able to swerve around it.

from my upcoming coups fic 👀 u can read the teaser here!!

tagging @myhimbomingi, @bookyeom, @kpopnstarwars, and anyone else who wants to join!!

[clndstn-headmates]

Andrew & Ashley fictives maybe?? ( The Coffin of Andy and Leyley)

for sure, hope you like em. feel free to change anything :P

-Mod Cy

NAMES: Andrew Graves, Andy

AGE: 19

PRONOUNS: he/him

GENDERS: FTM/trans boy

SEXUALITY: bi gay

SOURCE: The Coffin of Andy and Leyley

SPECIES: human

ROLE: heartmate

TRANSIDS: transfornicaddict, transforcedconsang, forcedkiller, transforcedcannibalism, transharmen, transforcedsexuality, nulltraumatized, wolmadic, eclipsadic, nullAFAB, transSHscars, transSH, transbeansSH, permamanipulated, permamanipulove, transblackmailee, transcigaretteburns, transcontrolled, transcultmember, transmissingperson, transpermamissing, transdom

CISIDS: wasian, Korean, white, black hair, green eyes, autistic, BPD, AvPD, cyclothymia, nicotine addict, anxious, pessimistic, pushover, doormat, cynical, codependent

PARAS: cоnsang (🌷), incestophile (👥), siscоn (🍓🌙), sadomasochist (❣️), biastophile (🥀), autobiastophile (🌼)

APPEARANCE:

NAMES: Ashley Graves, Leyley

AGE: 19

PRONOUNS: she/her

GENDERS: cis girl

SEXUALITY: bi lesbian

SOURCE: The Coffin of Andy and Leyley

SPECIES: human

ROLE: heartmate

TRANSIDS: transkiller, transcannibal, trisconsang, diahumanfleshaddict, transharmen, transforcedsexuality, nulltraumatized, intersexfluid, transalcoholic, severihypersexual, nullcisgender, dismokaddict, EDflux, permamanipulator, permamanipulover, transblackmailer, transyandere, transcontrolling, transcultmember, transmissingperson, transpermamissing, transSatanist, transsub

CISIDS: wasian, Korean, white, black hair, pink eyes, NPD, BPD, bipolar, hypersexual, ASPD, obsessive, jealous, manipulative, pushy, sadistic, codependent

PARAS: cоnsang (🌷), incestophile (👥), brоcon (🫐🌙), sadomasochist (❣️), biastophile (🥀), autobiastophile (🌼)

APPEARANCE:

[georgiapeach30513]

hi georgia! i was just wondering if ‘just like the cage bird’ is a discontinued series or not? i must have re read it five times at least, its my favourite series of yours! along side ‘closer to heaven and closer to you’💞💞No pressure of course! just curiosity❤️‍🔥your series and writing is beautiful and criminally underrated, your talent is worth millions!❣️

🫣 it’s not discontinued. It’s lack of inspo. When I first put it out, it didn’t do well, and I grew distant from it. And now all of a sudden everyone is liking it.

@rainydayandmondays talks about it with me a lot. It’s one of her favorites. And I keep saying I need to write a chapter of Andy and his song bird. Because that story is one I never had an outline for, I was just going with it. And it can go in so many different directions.

Closer to Heaven is one of my babies!!! You can tell I treat Ransom with a lot of love. That is my sweet baby after all.

Thank you so much!! Caged Bird is definitely one I want to to continue. There’s so many questions left to be answered.

[roy-the-dork]

Not a traditional ask, but I love your art of Andy. He is my everything and your artwork of him is mesmerizing 🥺❣️

Thank you, that is very kind of you!!! 💕💕 Andy truly is the best :)