#been a while and a while since I drew in this style and it feels GOOD to be doing it again!!

[luckyartdrawer]

MWUEHEHEHE!!! @nightbearsnebula HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

I am your Secret Valentine and here I bestow upon you some Moon cuddles! Who of which is happily feeding ya chocolate hearts, all whilst being surrounded in shadow merchandise! (The DCA may have gone a little overboard in spoiling you)

You mentioned both the DCA and the Sonic franchise in your wishlist in multiple ways and thought this was a lovely middle ground! I personally love Sonic too, so I was more than happy to draw Shadow! Especially after looking through your blog, it seems he's a favorite hehe!

vvv Alt arts and extra yapping below! vvv

Less Effects and No Words Alt Arts

Here's a silly close up of the shadows I drew. They're so cute! (Also those shoes came out so clean uogh I want them to be real)

I sincerely hope you enjoy this! I definitely think this turned out to be one of my best dca arts recently too, so I'm extra satisfied with handing this over to you hehe!

I used your non-human Sona version because I actually struggle a lot with human heads specifically, so I was honestly very happy to see you had this version hehe! Very cute too!!! I love how silly you get with her in your doodles! I hope you don't mind I gave her big ol' eyes with stars in them; I feel like anyone would be so stoked to be pampered like this lololol! <333

It was also nice to draw Shadow again. I always drew Sonic characters even when I was really young, made OCs like CRAZY, but it's been a good while since I have done any sonic art in recent times! It was fun to use my old style tactics while also trying to keep the shadow plushies leaning a little more adorable than serious. Just to fit the vibes~ ✨

That ends my yap sesh! Happy Valentine's day Bear! ✨✨✨

[veganeggz]

You Look Lonely: Hiromi Higuruma x Reader

Entry for @slvttyplum #fruitvendorevent // Prompt: “We're dating?? Since when??” Summary: Cyberpunk-AU! Oneshot. Hiromi finds what he was scared to look for. Content Tags: sexworker!reader, masturbation mention, implied sex, mention of mental health struggles and death, and use of smoking.

10:15:01 PM.

You take a long drag of your vape, closing your eyes as you did so. The vapors rolled down your bionic-implant lungs. It didn’t even matter if it tasted cheap. You didn’t feel like running around in Watson looking for a better smoke shop. Not while the Tygers were causing chaos in the district. The fuckers knew better than to think twice about getting near Mox territory.

Your new little boyfriend drew your attention back to the holo-call. He was already flustered by the way his tires skidded. You raise a brow, a dazzling smile on your pretty face, as you watch the Corpo straighten himself out. Hiromi came to a stop, his wide, dark eyes meeting yours. He was already blushing, and that gorgeous head of hair of his was a tad out of place.

“Wait: We’re dating? Since when?” He asked. His eyes widened further as you licked your lips. An effect you continue to have on him.

“Why not, Hiromi~? You always seem to do everything ‘except fuck me.” You said with a wink. You crane your neck to show off the Doll Chip. Being a doll paid your bills. It was a job for you. You were fine as hell, and people were willing to pay for a chance to come fuck you. 

Hiromi, however, was an odd one. You recall leaving your log-in on purpose, at the net booth, for him to stumble upon your portfolio. The Corpo had been dragged to Japantown while you were out shopping, and you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted him, and the way he behaved, it was clear he wanted you.

A shared kiss outside some shitty diner.

The noises he’d make when he felt your ass grind against his crotch at the nightclub.

His eyes widening as you’d walk by wearing that see-through plastic outfit that stuck to the curves of your body.

But—He seemed to balk at the idea of going through with what he wanted. It was frustrating, the way he’d send you home in heat. You sometimes spent late nights touching yourself, imagining what it would be like to get dicked-down by Hiromi. A juicier, more realistic outcome, was to wonder if he would prefer to be the one ridden.

“That—Ugh, that doesn’t mean we’re dating. I…” He shook his head with a slight frown, creasing his handsome features. “I didn’t think you’d want to be with someone like me.”

It sounded like bullshit coming from him. You exhaled, blowing a large cloud of white smoke. Your eyes catch onto the door opening. A coworker, a fellow Mox, was just finishing her shift at Lizzie’s. You gave her a small smile to acknowledge the passerby before continuing the conversation:

“Hiromi, don’t do that. Don’t you start with that ‘You deserve better’. I don’t give a fuck about that gonk shit. I just mind my business and get my Eddz. It’s Night City for fucks sake. Look, come on…Hiro, let’s squash this, ‘alright? I’m craving sushi. Sending you deets now.”

Your eyes light up again to text Hiromi the location of that sushi bar by the harbor. Much to his little pout, you added that ‘It’s a date!’.  ..........................................................................................................................

When Hiromi showed up, your face fell. He looked better over the holo-call. He usually wore a suit fit for a defense attorney. That black and white, sleek Neo-Militaristic suit made him stand out in Watson district with the style’s luxury substance over style design motif. The charm came from his dishevelment in working long hours on court cases. Now, he was just… wearing the common, lower class style of Entropy. 

He couldn’t meet your eyes. Something happened, but he was keeping his lips shut. He slumped down next to you as he looked over the gray, artificial selection of “sushi”. You tried to close your agape maw, and offer a smile, but silence got the better of you.

“...I can’t believe you eat this.” He murmured as he hesitated to take a plate. He was getting used to being just, well, a nobody to everyone around him. It didn’t take away from the fact he was always ‘Hiromi’ to you. You bumped shoulders with him to tease.

“You’ll get used to it. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were in deep shit. You know you could call me, right?”

Hiromi rubbed his neck to hide his growing blush, “I didn’t have to. Having a Mox with me would’ve made things complicated. I’ve just been caught up in the motions after getting blacklisted.”

Fuck—He shouldn’t even be alive right now. He could’ve been zeroed, and you wouldn’t know it. It hurt, the way he was self-imposing his isolation. You grab him by the shoulder to make him look at you. Hiromi was being such a gonk. It was stupid. It was bullshit. Hiromi’s shoulders tensed up as you stared at him with tear-stung eyes.

“Are you that afraid of me, Hiromi?”

His eyes widened at the thought. He didn’t want to hurt you. He didn’t want to lose you if he could help it. If being lonely was the best outcome, then he was going to do that. But—

You give his shoulder a squeeze, “Hiromi? Is that a yes, no, maybe so?! Please, answer me—”

He leans in to cut you off with a kiss. He wanted more from you. You felt yourself close your eyes as you softly sighed against his lips. He held you close as he tilted his head, that big nose making you giggle as he clumsily bumps it against you. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I’ve been selfish, and cruel to leave you lonely. I want you. I do. I want you more than I was willing to admit.”

It was frustratingly impossible to remain mad with him. Not as he kissed you again and again. He scooped you up with the intent to get out of here. Hiromi had nothing but time to make up for not taking care of your shared needs and desires. One you were more than happy to take being able to taste, to feel him inside of you.

In a place like Night City, there is no future to be had. This city devours hundreds, upon thousands of souls, all of whom with names and faces forgotten about if they weren’t Legends. One thing was certain, although Hiromi had to start his life again, he had a future with you.

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

I MISS MY KING!!!!

[hinamie]

doodles

[sysig]

An eye for a life, unquestionably worth it (Patreon)

[fleouriarts]

feeling bad about my art lately. will probably not post for a while. but i wanted to at least dump some stuff here before i retreat into my hidey hole

[chiropteracupola]

The love of the Wanderer is to wanderers.

[idyllicidols]

Daddy's Girl.

Apologize in advanced lol. Some real depravity here.

TW: unknown voyeurism.

***

Mina was a stunning young woman, with a fierce determination and an undeniable charm that drew people to her like a magnet. Since the first day she walked in as a lowly intern at a prestigious company, she was often the envy of her peers, with her impeccable style and effortless grace. Despite her junior position, Mina had an air of royalty around her. People didn't dare to cross her, for they didn't know if they would come out the other side alive.

As she moved through the halls, heads would turn and eyes would follow her, admiring her beauty and her unwavering confidence. She was used to getting her way, having never known the word "no" in her life. Her parents had always indulged her every whim, and she had grown accustomed to being the center of attention. Mina's co-workers looked up to her, seeking her approval and advice on everything from work projects to fashion choices. She was the epitome of perfection, always dressed to impress and always on top of her game.

One day, Mina's boss called her into his office. She was sure she was going to be promoted, her heart racing with excitement as she walked in. And promoted she was, but not in the means she was expecting...

After months of training, Mina is now a junior associate, reaching that position in record time. No one even questioned it, her work is always flawless, her presence commanding, her clients pleased. It was obvious to everyone how a newcomer climbed the ranks so fast, everyone just accepts that Mina is someone to look up to, the best of the best.

A regularly scheduled one on one, she knocks on your door, ready for you to fill her in on her weekly duties.

"Come in"

Mina locks the door behind her and smirks. Thursday 8:58AM, your most arduous day, full of virtual meetings that drone on and on.

"You're late Mina, we barely have time to prepare. My next meeting’s about to start."

"Oh you know I always come on time, sir. But I promise I'll make it up to you." her voice laced with natural innuendo.

Despite her tardiness Mina walks towards your desk in slow sauntering steps, clicking her heels on the hardwood floor. Her wide hips sway side to side, her fingertips gently graze across the mahogany surface as she makes her way around. Your tie is in her hands, wrapping it around her hand and pulling your lips onto hers.

"You're under my control for the next thirty minutes." She whispers in your ear.

Her hold releases and she nestles under your desk, a soft cushion already placed there to rest her knees.

Mina looks up to you and smiles her signature gummy smile, a smile that sends a rush of warmth down to your cock.

"You have meetings sir. I suggest you join before they start getting suspicious."

Her hand slides up and down your bulge, squeezing it as she feels it pulsating under the fabric. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the next hour of 'boring meetings'.

"Fuck, Mina..."

"Just relax and enjoy sir, I've got you."

"Thank you Minari, that's why I keep you around."

"You know I'm your best associate for a reason."

She unzips your pants, releasing your hard cock into the air. Her hand wraps around it, stroking it slowly while she watches your face try to maintain its composure. The screen is turned on and you're ready to go, albeit a little distracted by the feeling of Mina's hand around you.

"Good morning everyone, sorry for my tardiness, let's begin."

Mina slowly works her hand up and down, spitting on your cock to get it nice and ready. You try your best to focus on the meeting, but it's incredibly difficult with the feeling of Mina's warm breath and her hand around you.

"As you can see, our numbers have been steadily increasing over the past quarter. This is a testament to our hard work and dedication."

You hear Mina giggle and you look down to see her licking her lips in anticipation. Her pace is as slow and agonizing as ever, placing gentle kisses and licks against your tip as she gathers up the pre-cum. There's no reason to rush, these meetings always drone on and on.

"I think what we're doing is really working. If we continue on this path, I'm confident we'll surpass our projections."

Mina takes your cock into her mouth, the wet warmth enveloping you. Her tongue swirls around the head, her hand working the base of your cock in time with her movements. Mina is great at her job, knowing exactly how much pressure to use to keep you lasting as long as possible.

"We'll have another update in a few weeks, but for now I think it's safe to say we're on the right track."

Your cock throbs in her mouth, the feeling of her warm tongue sending shivers up your spine. It's hard to focus on the meeting when you can barely contain yourself from bucking your hips into her mouth. She can tell you're struggling, pulling off your cock with a pop.

"Patience, sir." she whispers, always careful not to be overheard.

She places gentle kisses up and down the length of your shaft, her hand squeezing the base of your cock, applying pressure in just the right places. Her mouth moves back down, but not to your cock, ignoring your throbbing member and focusing on your balls. The perfect place to give love and attention without risk of eruption.

"Now, I'd like to take a moment to discuss..."

Your words trail off as Mina gently sucks on your balls, her tongue swirling around them, massaging them with her mouth. It's a welcome distraction from the monotony of the meeting, your cock throbbing as you imagine Mina's lips wrapped around it instead.

"...Discuss what sir?" Another voice from the meeting rings out.

"Yes, sorry, just thinking about the future. Johnson, please present what you showed me."

Mina lets out a giggle, knowing she's got you wrapped up.

"So, moving forward, I think it's important that we..."

You can't concentrate on what anyone is saying, too caught up in the feeling of Mina's warm mouth against your skin. Her tongue moves across your balls, leaving a trail of wetness behind. Gentle soft hands stroke up and down your thighs while she sucks them into her mouth, one at a time, massaging them with her skilled tongue - truly a perfectionist in everything she does.

"Mina, you're killing me." You whisper down.

"Shh, you have a meeting sir." she winks and takes you in again.

"That sounds like a good plan, we'll put together a task force to make sure it gets done."

One hand is on your mouse, the other tangled in Mina's hair. She bobs her head up and down, her pace torturously slow. She's in no rush, enjoying every second she has with you under her control. Your breathing grows heavy, your grip on Mina's hair tightening as she continues her slow tortuous pace. It's been 20 minutes now, and Mina is just as flustered. Her own desires are growing within, her pussy aching for touch - feeling her juices leaking down her meaty thighs. The thought crosses her mind. But she knows better. She knows she's forbidden to to touch herself without your permission.

"Mmm.." Mina whimpers under the desk, your cock throbbing in her mouth, a sign that you're close.

You know the rules too, no cumming without Mina's permission, and she's not giving you that right now. You're stuck in an agonizing cycle of pleasure and denial, your cock begging for release, but Mina's pace keeping you just at the edge. You take a deep breath and try to focus on the meeting, but all you can think about is the feeling of Mina's mouth on you, the sound of her soft muted moans as she flicks her tongue at the sensitive area just under your head.

"Are there any questions?"

The signal that the meeting is ending. A sudden change in intensity; light licks and suctions become sloppy, messy, and fast. She's ready to finish you, her own body craving its own release. Your eyes squeeze shut, your toes curling as the pressure builds within. You bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the moans that are threatening to escape.

"Thank you all, have a great day."

And with the meeting ending, so does her brief stint of being in control. Both your hands dart down for Mina's hair - moving her head back and forth, treating her like a glorified fleshlight. She moans against your cock, the feeling of her master using her so animalistically turning her on. Her gagging noises only adding to the erotic pleasure. Saliva is leaking out of her mouth, coating her chin and dripping down onto the mat. Her hands tap on your thighs, and you pull her off your cock.

"Fucking use me sir." A welcome surprise. Only wanting to take a break to announce her submissiveness.

With a firm grip, you push her back on your cock, forcing your full length down her throat, her nose burying itself in your pelvis. Tears stream down her face, her mascara running, her body desperate for air. But she loves this, the feeling of her lungs screaming for oxygen, the feeling of helplessness as you take her. You hold her down as you release in her mouth, your cock pulsing as she struggles to keep it all in, coughing with her mouth still full of cock and cum.

"Don't swallow until I tell you to."

You let her pull off and catch her breath, the mixture of spit and cum dripping down her chin. You grab her chin, pulling her up so that she's looking at you.

"Open."

She obeys, her mouth wide open, showing the creamy load inside. It's a sight that turns you on, Mina Myoi, the ideal employee, always so prim and proper, now a certified mess, her eyes red and watery, her makeup ruined, and her mouth full of your cum.

"Swallow."

She obeys, the creamy liquid sliding down her throat. She's yours, body and soul, and you both know it. You reach your hand down, your fingers sliding up and down her pussy lips.

"Fuck, Minari, you're soaked."

"Sorry, sir, I couldn't help myself. I needed you so badly."

"Did you touch yourself?"

"No, sir, I'm a good girl. I waited for you."

"Such a good girl, but you're gonna have to wait a little longer. I have another meeting about to start."

She frowns, but nods and returns to the floor, kneeling under the desk, waiting patiently for you. You can feel her warm breath on your cock, the anticipation building as you wait for the meeting to start. The room is silent, the only sound is Mina's breathing as she kneels below. She's such a good girl, but one that was growing a little too comfortable. A lesson needed to be taught and that's what the next meeting entailed...

Mina returns to her job, stroking and licking your cock back to hardness as your next meeting begins. Her tongue traces the underside of your shaft, teasing and tasting you. It doesn't take long, her warm mouth too comforting to stay soft. And this time she's impatient, no longer slow and steady, sucking harshly - her way of showing her defiance at this unscheduled meeting, her neediness to feel you inside her.

"Fuck, Minari, I don't have much time before this meeting. You're going to have to slow down."

Mina whimpers, knowing the stakes. She doubles down, working her tongue and hands in a perfect rhythm, but then the meeting starts. The unmistakable booming voice on the other end of the video call fills the air.

"Ah hello Dr. Myoi."

Mina stops. Stunned, paralyzed, her ears ringing. She knows this voice. The same voice that has scolded her, chided her, and made her feel so small. Her body trembles. She's been caught. Caught by her father, a man she respects so deeply, a man she looks up to. She tries to pull away but your hand holds her in place.

Her heart is racing, her mind a mess. But there's something about being under your desk, your cock in her mouth, and her father on the other end of the video call, that has her pussy aching for more. The taboo nature of it, the feeling of being completely and utterly dominated, the fear that she'll be found out, it all has her dripping wet.

"I've said this many times. Please call me Akira. After all you've done for me. The donations to the hospital, hell you even got my dear Mina a job at your company."

She wants to cry, her body is shaking and trembling, but she can't move.

"Of course, of course, you're very kind Akira."

"By the way, How's Mina doing? I've heard she recently got a promotion"

"Ah yes, she's one of our best and brightest. Always working on the hardest projects. Willing to do anything to get ahead." Akira may not have noticed the innuendos in your words, but Mina did.

She's desperate, her mind pleading with her to escape, her body telling her to stay, her heart pounding in her chest. The conflict within her is real, but she can't deny how hot this situation is. Being held down by her boss, his cock in her mouth, her father on the other end of the camera. She blushes, her mind flashing with all the dirty things she's done for you, all the positions and toys she's used for your amusement. Her face burns with shame, but her body is aching for more.

"You should bring her by some time. Let her catch up with her old man. She hasn't visited home in a while. Always so tied up in her work"

"Oh don’t I know it…" 

"Anyway, let's get to the reason why I'm here. I wanted to talk about our latest research. Our team has been working overtime, trying to get everything ready for you. We're hoping you'll contribute for the next round."

You look down at Mina, her eyes locked with yours, her heart racing, her mind reeling, her body burning with shame and desire. It's a wonderful sight, seeing Mina under your desk, her father completely oblivious to the situation. Her heart pounded in her chest, there was no escape that didn't expose her identity to the camera. She could only imagine her father's reaction if she climbed out from under that desk.

You can't resist, your cock pulsing at the thought of Mina's humiliation. You reach for the mouse, scrolling through the slides, as Mina's mouth stays on you. Her tongue is swirling around your shaft, her hands stroking up and down, desperate to make you cum. Inadvertently, you let out a groan.

"Everything okay?"

"Sorry, I'm just a little distracted." Mina freezes when you gather Mina's hair into a ponytail and raise it up, flashing it to the camera. "I've got someone under my desk sucking my cock. You know how these meetings can go. This just makes them go by so much quicker."

Akira pauses, the tension in the air grows with each second of silence...

...Then he lets out a grand laugh from the depths of his belly. "Well that explains it." The mood in the room changes. Akira, the ever lecherous bastard, forgot about his research and was too engrossed in the details. "You have the best employees. That time you let me sample Jihyo. God the fucking tits on that woman. Tell me about this one."

Mina was stunned. She couldn't believe her father was talking this way, nor did she know her father has slept with her coworkers.

"She's a beautiful young woman. A bit of a daddy's girl, but that's to be expected, right? She's been under my desk for the past thirty minutes. I swear she has the most skillful mouth I've ever met on a woman."

Mina was mortified. Her face was red with embarrassment. Her body burned with shame. But the ache between her legs was becoming unbearable.

"Oh yes, daddy's girls are the best. So obedient, so eager to please. Let me guess, it's Sana isn't it? God that woman is hot. She blew my mind the last time I was down to visit you over there. I've never been with someone so submissive."

Mina froze, her jaw tightening around your cock. It wasn't just one, but two, just how many are there. And Ms. Minatozaki? She ran her own division! She couldn't believe that her esteemed father was such a perverted pig.

"No, no, it's not Sana. She actually moved into her own corner office. Though I do admit, I still visit her from time to time if you know what I mean."

Akira laughed again, "You're a lucky man. Having so many beautiful women at your disposal. So who is it?"

"It's more fun if it's a secret isn't it?"

"Ah well, a man's gotta have his secrets. But promise me you'll let me test drive this new one the next time I'm in town."

Mina was horrified. Her father speaking about her like she was a piece of property, completely oblivious it was her. The shame, the degradation, the humiliation, all of it was driving her crazy. She wanted nothing more than to crawl out from under the desk and run away. But she knew that wasn't an option.

"I'm not so sure about that one Akira. I think I'm keeping this one all to myself."

"Come on now, you're not going to deprive an old man of a little fun, are you? At least let her up so I can see what I'm missing out on"

You looked down at her, her eyes were filled with desperation, begging you with everything she had not to reveal her secret. Her life would be over, she couldn't imagine what would happen if her father found out his precious daughter was your submissive pet. And in that moment, an evil plan crossed your mind.

"I'll show you something better." You bend down, lifting Mina's hips until she's bent over in front of the camera, her face still concealed.

Your hands slide up her skirt, exposing her cheeks in her lacy blue thong, slapping then squeezing her firm ass cheek. Akira's eyes grow wide, his tongue darting out of his mouth, his lust growing as he drinks in the sight of Mina's voluptuous ass. "Tell me Akira, have you ever seen an ass so nice and meaty?"

"That's an exquisite ass. I can see why you want to keep her to yourself" Akira jealously states, still completely oblivious he's staring at his own daughter's ass.

"Can you believe she's never had in there before she joined this company? What a waste of talent."

You can feel Mina trembling beneath you. Her breathing is ragged and her skin is burning hot. Her cheeks are flushed with embarrassment and arousal. You can't help but chuckle at how helpless she is. You give her ass a firm slap, her cheeks jiggling with recoil, making her yelp.

"You're such a good pet, aren't you? Sucking my cock under the desk."

Mina doesn't dare answer, taking everything in her power to keep her father from recognizing her voice.

Akira is practically drooling now, his eyes glued to the screen, watching as you play with his daughter's ass. He's a lecherous pervert, and he's loving every second of it.

"That's not even the best part." You slowly peel off her panties, exposing her bare ass and cunt to her father just virtually inches away. "Check out what a pretty pussy she has. She's been begging me to touch it for the past thirty minutes."

Akira's eyes widen, his pupils dilating as he unknowingly takes in the sight of his daughter's naked body. You spread her ass cheeks apart, showing her pussy to the camera. Her lips glisten with her juices, her hole is pink and inviting, her clit swollen and begging for attention. She's dripping wet, her body betraying her. The humiliation is turning her on, the feeling of her father seeing her body in this state driving her crazy.

Akira is entranced, his eyes glued to the screen, his breath ragged and uneven. He can't look away, the sight of this beautiful pussy too tempting.

At long last, you rub her slit, her juices coating your fingers, sliding them into her dripping wet hole. Mina bites her lip to hold in her moans as you slide back out, showing the camera your fingers drenched in her juices. "Look how wet she is for me." You lean down, licking up the juices directly from the source. The taste of her is intoxicating, her body shuddering as she feels your tongue on her.

"Fuck, that's hot. What I would give to be there right now." Akira pants.

You continue your assault on her pussy, your fingers sliding in and out, curling to brush her g-spot. Mina tries to hold it in, but it's too much, the pleasure you always know how to bring her is in full effect. The eruption growing within her is well past its expiration and you can physically feel it against your finger. And then you let go, releasing your fingers and her sticky fluid shoots out of her, splashing all over the camera.

"FUCK!" Akira shouts out. "She fucking squirted on me! Goddamn, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, did I do that?" You feign ignorance, your hand moving back and forth, going back for seconds. The sound of her squelching filling the room. "I had no idea she could do that. She must really be enjoying herself."

Akira's pants are growing louder, the camera angle is a bit shaky.

"Akira are you ok?" You ask with concern, knowing exactly the state he's in.

Mina can't see, her face still carefully hidden from view. Her mind is swimming with emotions, the fear of being caught, the thrill of being dominated by her boss, the shame of having her father see her naked body, and the overwhelming sense of lust and desire coursing through her veins. It's too much, her brain is on overdrive, her body is aching with need. She wants to run away, but she knows she can't, not with the position she's in.

Your fingers thrust in and out, your thumb rubbing circles on her swollen clit. The eruption is building inside her again, the feeling of her boss' fingers buried inside her, her father's gaze on her most intimate parts, and the sound of her boss' voice praising her has her at the edge.

"Come on baby girl, you're doing so well. Come on, be a good girl and squirt for daddy."

Her body tenses, her back arching as her pussy clenches around your fingers. Another stream of hot, sticky fluid shoots out, coating the camera once again, blurring the focus.

"Oh fuck! Fuck, that's hot." Akira groans, his eyes glued to the screen.

You pull your fingers out of her, rubbing her clit gently. "I'm so proud of you baby girl. You did so well." Mina's body trembles, her pussy still spasming, her juices dripping down her legs. She's a mess, her mind is a blur, the only thing she can focus on is the pleasure you're giving her.

"God, that was hot. I've never seen a girl squirt like that." Akira pants. "You've got one hell of a woman there."

"That's right. She's my good little girl."

"Well Akira, it's been fun, but I think we've gotten way off topic. Send me the details of the proposal and I'll have Mina look then over. You know how attention-detailed she is."

"Right, right. Sorry, we got a little distracted there." Akira's eyes dart around, he's trying to act natural. "We'll catch up another time. By the way, if you're ever willing to share, let me know." Akira signed off, still completely unaware it was his own flesh and blood that got him so hot and bothered.

The call ends and you let out a sigh, turning Mina around and bend her over your desk. She's a mess, her makeup smeared, her hair a tangled mess, and her clothes disheveled. A far cry from the picturesque woman who walked in those doors an hour ago. Her pussy is soaked, her juices leaking down her thighs, the scent of her arousal filling the air. You lean down and kiss her lower lips, tasting her sweet essence. She whimpers against your lips, her body still trembling.

"Did you enjoy that Minari? Seeing daddy's face while you were being such a dirty little slut?"

"Yes, sir. It was so hot. I've never been so humiliated. Now that it's over I'm so horny."

"Don't thank me just yet, Minari. I'm not done with you." Her skirt is pulled down, her legs spread open. You lean down, taking her clit between your teeth and biting down. She moans loudly, her head falling back in pleasure. Your fingers slide inside her dripping wet hole, your tongue moving up and down her slit. Her body writhes against the desk, her pussy clenching around your fingers, her juices leaking down your chin. Free to be as loud as she wants again, she lets out a ear piercing scream.

"Did you just cum Minari?" your voice lathered in disappointment, taking a step away from the desk.

"Please sir, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cum without permission. I promise I'll be good. Don't leave me like this. Please fuck me."

You can't help but laugh. She is a total mess, her body shaking uncontrollably, her face stained with tears, her pussy dripping wet. She is so desperate to cum again. "Are you asking me to fuck you or are you begging?" your hand wrapping around her neck and squeezing.

"I'm begging, please fuck me."

"Begging huh? Such a good girl..."

[kianamaiart]

Hey hey! You’ve probably been asked this a lot but what made you want to start creating I Don’t Want To Be A Magical Girl?

Also I drew Akia in my style!

Hope you’re having a great day btw ! :0)

First of all this is so rad!!! I loooove how you drew her

And what made me want to make I Don't Want to be a Magical Girl... It was a lot of things! (im assuming you mean the pilot in general)

The idea started off as a stupid doodle/character design practice. It wasn't gonna be anything more than that. I just felt like drawing a cute character with a gun really hahaha.

It's not a particularly original premise and I didn't plan to do anything more with her (as I do with most of my ocs/designs). But I actually did really like this one and couldn't help but think of little ideas and scenarios with her. Things started ramping up in my brain more when I realized I could attach a personal story and personal experiences to it to make it feel less cliche. That's when I started designing the other characters and coming up with bios and stuff

And then that was gonna be it again. I'd maybe do a comic here and there but there was a combination of things that happened that led to me jumping in and making a pilot.

First of all, I had a two month hiatus coming up so I had so much time. I also decided to step down from my directors position to be a board artist again in the coming season. So I really wanted to get some storyboarding practice in and what better way to do that than with this character I ended up really liking? I also don't have a portfolio and I'd been wanting to make something that's very me rather than my work from an existing show.

I'd offhandedly mentioned to my editor at disney that I wanted to do a board for these characters and she told me she'd help me make an animatic if it ever came to that. I couldn't pass up that opportunity! Now, since it was gonna be an animatic and I didn't want it to just be my scratch, I reached out to a bunch of VA friends to see if they'd be interested and they were!

Then other than having that support, just seeing my friends work on their own personal projects has been really inspiring and made me want to also do my own thing! Me and my friend group had just made a whole video game for our friend as a bday present which was so creatively fulfilling and made me realize like "oh my god we're artists we can literally just make stuff".

In the past I'd been so afraid to share my original work and for similar fears I've never wanted to showrun despite having the opportunity to pitch. While it's flattering to be wanted there was this pressure that felt like "oh you HAVE to make something, you're wasting your talent otherwise." (lol this is ironically the thesis of idwtbamg). And as a qpoc, i'd felt this extra layer of pressure to have to make something perfect on all fronts because if i fail in any capacity, i'm failing my community. it'd just be another another reason for people to say "ah queer media and work centering poc just can't succeed." then on the other end, i can only do and write what i know and feared that other people in my community wouldn't resonate with it or would feel like it's inaccurate to their own experiences.

but that's an exhausting way to feel and i've finally decided for myself that i'm just gonna tell stories that are authentic to me and it will reach whoever it needs to reach~ this realization was kind of the final step i needed to push myself to go all in. and now we're here!

[minarinnn]

“notice me” pt2

luke castellan x aphrodite!reader | pt1

content/trigger warnings: fem!reader, SMUTT, p in v, virgin!luke, unprotected sex, rough sex, bold!reader

it’s been a week since that day and you haven’t spoken to luke at all. if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were ignoring him

you were. but this was all part of your twisted game. he made you wait for months, now it’s his time to wait. you wanted him to feel how you felt, maybe then you’ll give into your desires

you’d pretend not to see him, or be busy with studying or teaching your younger half-siblings. luke grew more and more impatient by the minute. he knew that you had always been a master at playing with peoples feelings, being aphrodite’s daughter and all, but this was going too far. he didn't understand why you were ignoring him when it was you who wanted his attention in the first place

every time he saw that you were free, you would leave. you wouldn’t even shoot him your flirty smile like you always did, all you did was spare him a simple glance

he felt like he was going insane, he’s never had to fight for your attention. it just came naturally. how you’d bat your eyelashes at him while complimenting his fighting style, or how you’d place your hand on his bicep as you spoke to him

he never thought he’d be the one doing the chasing. so, finally, after what felt like an eternity of being ignored, luke had had enough. he walked up to your dining table, interrupting your conversation with your half-sister, drew. “hey, can we talk?” he spoke, voice low and almost sounding desperate

“sure” you agree, watching as he bites the inside of his cheek. “in private” he mutters out, eyes boring into your own. you nod, following him to the storage shed just outside his cabin.

you enter the small, dark shed, feeling luke’s intense gaze on you. it feels almost like it's burning holes into your skin, like he's trying to see right through you. he leaned on the wall, crossing his arms under his chest, his muscles subconsciously flexing showing just how toned his muscles actually are

luke took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and serious. "so, why’ve you been ignoring me all week?" his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of an explanation. you remained composed, not wanting to give away the game you were playing. "my world doesn’t revolve around you, castellan” you said with a playful smile

luke clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated. "dont play games with me, you know exactly what I'm talking about” he took a step closer to you, eyes locked on yours “answer my question”

you felt your heart pound in your chest as luke steadily closed the distance between you. his presence was inescapable, and the tension between you was palpable. you felt yourself getting needier by the second. the way your pussy throbbed at just his words had you weak

you looked at him through hooded eyes, a playful smile still tugging at your lips. “you wanna know that bad, huh?” you said, putting your hands to his toned chest. “you drive me insane” he whispered, lust practically pouring out of his body

“i know” you chuckled softly. luke just looks at you, his expression unreadable. leaning in, he finally kisses you. the kiss is sudden and fierce, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that you haven't seen in him before. you wrap your arms around luke’s neck, pulling him closer to you. the kiss becomes more desperate as he pushes you against the wall, it was more urgent, as if neither of you could get enough of the other

his hands are quick to find their way under your shirt, groping your breast over your bra. he was desperate to get the fabric off of you, desperate to feel you

he takes his own shirt off, you following suit. you giggle as his fingers fumble on the clip of your bra, fingers stumbling against each other as he blindly tries to take it off. you help him, of course.

his mouth quickly latches on to one of your perky nipples, groaning with a sense of satisfaction while his fingers pinch the other, making you squirm under his touch

your fingers pull and scratch on his scalp, a feeling he’s seeming to enjoy to the fullest, given the way he’s moaning against your skin. your free hand undoes his belt, efficiently pulling his pants down under his hips. a voice in the back of his head wanted to ask you if you’ve done this before, but he was too fucking horny to wanna do anything else in that moment

he’s panting, face flushed as he pull don’t your shorts along with your panties, biting his lip to prevent the whine he was gonna let out once he saw the mess you’ve made on your panties. he hasn’t even done much, talk about an ego boost

he’s snapped out from his thought when he feels your cold manicured fingers wrap around his length giving it a few strokes. the tip of his dick flushed a bright reddish pink, feeling the veins throb in your hand at the newly found sensation

“first time?” you tease, knowing full well that it was. “i’ll be gentle, promise” he replied smugly, raising on of your legs to his hip, tip aligning with your entrance. the moment he pushes the tip in, you both gasp. he’s much bigger than you expected, and you’re much tighter than he expected

“fuck” he panted out “s’tight”. your nails dug crescent moons on his shoulders as he sunk the rest of his length into your throbbing cunt. he’s quick to pull out and slam back into you, making you shamelessly moan out his name and your eyes rolling back

he might not have done this before, but he knows how sex works. he promised he’d be gentle, but luke castellan isn’t know for keeping promises, is he? and after you made him wait a whole week, you more than deserve a little punishment

so he’s thrusting up into you, giving you little to no time to adjust to his cock. and you’re so loud about it too. so he puts his middle and index finger into your mouth. “suck” is the only thing he says before your cheeks hollow out and your tongue wraps around his fingers. he can feel the vibrations of your moans through his arms and it’s coursing straight to his dick, making it throb inside of you

“good girl” he mutters into your neck, making you tighten impossibly tighter around his dick. a few more thrust and your cumming on his cock. he doesn’t let you come down from your high, his thrust maintain the same quick and rough pace they had before, making you whine against his fingers at the overstimulation

tears pooling in your eyes as he’s kissing your forehead. “you’re doing s’good f’me baby” he’d grunt out “im gonna fuckin’ ruin you”

© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[504py]

A day in a life with Ivan. [ONESHOT]

Warnings below the cut 。。。

⚠️ NSFW, yandere content, alcoholism, reader got tradwifed, stockholm syndrome, domestic violence, Ivan is very blatantly sadistic, size difference, dacryphilia, vague breeding kink, no use of Y/N, forced feminization(?), gender neutral reader.

hey yawll!! i drew this since i wanted to play more with the painting style and color palette i did in my last post, but since i hit 800 followers recently, i decided to write something to go along with it too!

thank you guys so so much for putting up with my bs and enjoying the slop i create LOL. hopefully this will be enough to thank you all and to satiate you guys till i come back from hibernation again 🩵🙏

also!! while this is a gender neutral reader, ivan still refers to you as a housewife. this is pretty much an extension of the headcanon post i did on him.

MAN I NEED TO RECONNECT WITH NATURE AFTER THIS 😭😭😭

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The average heart rate of a rabbit is a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Much, much faster than a human's at only a hundred, the little hearts of rabbits pump virile blood into their vulnerable bodies in order to outrun the cursed life of a prey animal they have no choice but to live.

Living with Ivan feels the exact same way. You, a human, were reduced to nothing but a prey animal whose only line of defense was either freeze or flight. Ivan prefers the freeze response. Tries to squeeze it out of you as much as he can.

The morning begins normally. You wake up next to his large, minimally clothed body, while you're bundled up as much as physically possible. You don't understand how he's so comfortable in the cold, but you've learned not to liken him to humans. You gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. It takes a while for Ivan to wake up, he's a heavy sleeper, but when his violet eyes finally open and dilate at the sight of you, the first thing he does is smile and pull you in to trap you in a strong bear hug. Don't struggle, he'll just tighten his grip. Then he kisses your cheek, and just holds you there without saying anything. He'll grumble a little when you tell him you have to leave bed to make breakfast, but he eventually will let you go.

It's a little sick how your current living situation makes chores the best part of your day, given how it allows the most proximity between you and Ivan. Cooking in the early morning is your favorite, since it takes Ivan a long time to recover from his hibernation. Thinking about what to cook is a bit of a meditative process as well, allows you to think thoroughly about anything other than your way of life and the man keeping you here.

Today, you decided to make something simple and similar to something you ate growing up. Luckily, Ivan is not a picky eater, even though he rather obviously prefers Slavic food. He'll eat whatever you make happily, but he'll be in even better spirits if you make something familiar to him.

You do not cook in silence. Silence has quickly become one of your biggest pet peeves since your captivity, and you do anything to drown it out. This damn empty mansion, the way Ivan is so terrible with his words and chooses instead to crush you with his actions, the bleak snowy landscape that greets you if you dare try and find any solace outside of this cage and your captor– It's enough to drive anyone insane. So, you pass the days by drowning out your thoughts with music and movies.

Ivan doesn't allow you a cellphone, or anything remotely modern at all. His home has a terrifying dedication to being so analog, you'd think you'd been transported to the 90's if not for the TV with a few streaming services on it, the only modern piece of technology he allows. He likes to collect cameras, radios, and old phones. Ivan's menagerie of antique goods is so expansive that it earned itself its own room. It's almost like a small museum, and you're very glad he allows you to look at and touch them as you pleased– with care, of course. He can actually be rather charming when he acts as your "museum guide" in this room. One of the few times you find yourself thinking anything remotely positive about him.

Ivan's voice is soft, it always is, but when he talks about these things he's so passionate about and so engrossed in, it takes on a bit more of a stern, confident tone that is easier for you to listen to. And when he's looking at the objects he's explaining, you can admire his side profile more openly. He's caught you multiple times (he has surprisingly sharp senses), and you're met with a flustered smile instead of the usual so-sweet-to-the-point-it-looks-fake type of smile.

"What are you looking at?" He'd ask, his voice quieting back down to that syrupy tone.

"Just you." You'd reply, which makes him pause in surprise for a second, before it earns a soft giggle from the towering man.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Vanya." The nickname makes him melt. "You just looked pretty."

The smile falls from his face, and his cheeks redden even more than you thought possible, before his grin returns tenfold. He laughs and looks away.

The memory of such interactions make you feel like buttering up to the man instead of rejecting him so much, then you realize you're just describing stockholm syndrome. As crazy as it is, it feels like, at this point, it'd be better to let it happen than to be aware and hateful every day you live here.

As if your thoughts had alerted him, you hear Ivan's deceptively soft footsteps descend the stairs. He doesn't say anything, and just makes his way to the kitchen to watch you.

He's dressed in more clothing now, a dark blue sweater and gray sweatpants. His neck is left bare around you. When you first met him, his clothing that purposefully covers his neck always went unnoticed by you, because such clothes fit him so well, like they were always meant to be there. It was only after your capture, when he took off his scarf and you saw the bandages around his pale neck did you start to question it.

You've never outright asked him, you worry the subject is too volatile. He just... decided to stop hiding it one day. It was after a shower when you first saw it, the ligature marks around his neck and a few faded pink scars on the front of his adam's apple. Ivan noticed you staring, and you've never seen him look so small and insecure before.

"Is it bad?"

"No." You shake your head. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

And that was that.

You finish plating up two dishes, one with a significantly heftier portion than yours considering how much he eats. You quickly place the chopping board and all the pans you used in the sink to wash later, and you bring the dishes to the table.

Ivan yawns, rubs at his eyes, and without much event, just picks up a knife and a fork and starts eating. You do the same only after fetching some tea from the samovar.

Breakfast is always quiet besides the background noise of whatever media you chose to play.

"Mm. Ёжик в тумaне?"

"Yeah. I like this one."

"A little somber, isn't it?"

"The hedgehog is cute. I relate to it a little bit."

Ivan takes his eyes off of the television to look at you, and ponders what you said a little more. He doesn't say anything, and continues eating.

"What will you be doing today?" You ask, in case you needed to iron some clothing or prepare extra food for guests.

He hums in thought for a moment. "I'll be going out in the evening to drink with the other nations."

"What will you be wearing?"

"What I usually do."

You nod, "I'll have it ready soon."

"What about you?" He asks.

"Hmm... I'll wash the dishes, then iron and press your clothing. After that, I'll think of what to cook for lunch while cleaning the house, and I'll prepare a meal for you before you leave. Then while you're away, I'll clean up some more and prepare dinner. And if I have some time, I'll sit and watch some more movies."

Ivan hums in satisfaction. He enjoys how strict to routine your lives were. Familiarity and stability are what he desires most, and he believes you're the only one who can grant him that wish.

"Perfect." He smiles, petting the crown of your head with a large, broad hand.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You adjust the dusty pink scarf around his thick neck after finishing wrapping the scars on his throat with bandages. You do it neatly and comfortably, as opposed to how Ivan does, quickly and efficiently, learned from decades of routine, yet it's still so much more uncomfortable compared to when you do it.

"How is it?" You ask. Ivan replies by taking your smaller hands in his and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You do it perfectly, любовь моя." He sighs, before pouting slightly. "I wish I could just stay home."

"You'll be alright, Vanya. Alcohol is like water to you anyways."

He snickers and rolls his eyes. "That just means it'll be boring for me, then."

"Just try to have fun and relax. I'll be safe and quiet here."

A mousy smile appears on his pink lips. You've said exactly what he wants to hear. "Alright. I'll just get it over with." He presses one last kiss to the top of your hair before leaving.

"Don't cause any trouble!" Ivan sings, before exiting the living room and closing the door behind him. You get a glimpse of the blindingly white outside world, and a gust of stinging cold air brushes against your skin like a warning.

You let out a taut breath, finally feeling like you're able to breathe without his crushing presence. You dust off your hands, from nothing in particular, before going off to do just as you said to him earlier. It bothers you how much he still affects you without even being around.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky is dark, and all that is heard is the droning of soft music and the burbling of something boiling on the stove. Its tranquility is broken by the door opening with more aggression than usual.

"Vanya?" You call out, hoping the sweet usage of his nickname would quell whatever spawned this roughness within him.

All you hear is something vaguely resembling a groan and a sigh, and his heavy, thudding footsteps. Your heart starts to race a little.

"Is something wrong, Vanya?" You ask meekly, approaching him with caution. He reeks of alcohol, and his movements seem all sluggish. Jesus, how much did Russia of all people need to drink in order to get this wasted?

"I'm alright." He huffs, taking off his gloves and his coat with slight difficulty. You step in closer to help him undress, taking off his scarf. You don't miss how he tenses up, so you freeze and meet his constantly intense stare to gauge his expression. His eyelids are low, pupils contracted, eyes darker than usual, and cheeks flushed like they always are. He seems to be pouting a bit. He doesn't do much else, so you continue, stripping him of his large overcoat. All he's left in now is a black sweater and thick brown slacks.

"I've made dinner. You can just sit wherever you want and I'll bring it to you–"

Ivan leans in so quickly, you couldn't even register it in order to dodge or deflect his kiss in time. This time, it lands on your lips. He doesn't do this usually at all, unless he was planning something. The blood drains from your face when his large hand finds the back of your neck, and holds it stiff, preventing any chance of backing out.

His skin and the inside of his mouth are impossibly warm, and the bitter, sterile taste of vodka is the only damn thing invading your senses. You grip the fabric of his knitted sweater, it makes him part from your lips to pant like a dog and take said piece of clothing off, now left in a dark gray shirt.

"V-Va– You taste like alcohol–"

"Get drunk off of me." He whispers, before grabbing the sides of your arms and kissing you tongue first, lapping at your lips, and at this point, you learned better than to deny him. With all the mental fortitude you could muster, you rigidly part your lips. Despite all your efforts to be as pliant as possible to try and guarantee your safety, you can't help the shiver of revulsion when his tongue invades your mouth like a parasite and rubs against yours.

It feels like time slows down, you can feel the milliseconds before your instincts kick in, and each millisecond feels like a year of dread. Unable to stop raw instinct, you bite down.

Your heart stops when you hear him grunt, and feel his grip around your arms tighten before he shoves you away. He gasps, cursing under his breath in his mother tongue before setting his sights back on you.

Doe-eyed and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, you begin to plead.

"N-No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Vanya, please–"

He approaches, kicks the back of your knees, before you are grabbed by the scruff of your shirt. The collar of your blouse is yanked back and presses the fabric tightly against your throat as he drags you to the front door. You're coughing and struggling to regain your footing, and the moment you can breathe, you beg.

"Please! Nonono– Vanya please don't do this I'll be good–" The words tumble out like unorganized clutter using the one short breath you were able to catch.

With one more harsh tug, you fall to your knees again, and the door opens. The sight of the snow immediately triggers something within you, and you begin sobbing.

Ivan takes a peak at you, seemingly taking pity.

"Only for a few minutes."

You shake your head in a frenzy, not believing a word he says. Even if he was saying the truth, you'd much rather continue to humiliate yourself over being outside for even a few seconds. What if he forgets about you? What if that door never opens again? What if you die a miserable death, separated from your survival by just a few inches of wood?

That's why, the moment he throws you out, you scramble to your feet and shove that damned door open before he can fully close it. You know you're in deeper shit when you hear the door slam against him, and the deep yelp that follows it. You run for your life into the confines of his house.

You quickly make way to one of the bathrooms, the only rooms in the house you're still able to lock from the inside. You knew even that meant nothing, since you're sure Ivan could and would break them down without a second thought. Yet, it was still your best shot.

You lock the bathroom door and sit on the flooring right next to it. You try to calm down your heartrate and your heaving so you could try and listen in on whatever was going on outside this room.

Eerie silence is what greets you. You hate it, hate it so much. Shuddering, you hold your breath and strain your ears just a little more.

And that's when you hear it.

Soft footsteps.

You have to bite back a scream from how much raw fear that little sound sends shooting through your nervous system. Makes your skin crawl so bad that it almost hurts.

Ivan's clearly not in any rush, but FUCK did you wish he'd just get it over with and sprint right at you. You're sure he knows where you are, he just likes to freak you out, you can tell. That sweet smile he always puts on is nothing short of sadistic, constantly has this look in his eyes, some kinda weird sparkle that tells you he enjoys watching you struggle beneath him. Knowing you'll be face to face with those very eyes shortly makes your ribs squeeze around your quaking lungs and heart.

The footsteps approach. You brace yourself for a rough kick to the door or a pipe slamming through it.

Instead, he knocks. This was wrong, what was happening? Oh, god, this was so much worse.

"I won't ask again."

Scrambling to the door, not even sparing any time to actually stand up, you open it. You wince when you strain your neck to look up and see the damage done to him by your outburst. A nasty, bloody bruise on the bridge of his tall nose and that same crimson liquid streaming down his nostril. Your chest shakes like a dying sparrow's.

"I-I'm sorry. Please."

And he smiles.

Ivan is actually, genuinely, extremely pleased right now. He's wanted this all along, for you to fear the outside world so much you'd do anything in the world to stay here, right by his side. He doesn't give a single shit about the injuries you've caused him now and in the past, he's strong, he can take it, and he'll always forgive you over and over again. Of course, it makes him annoyed, because what good housewife would beat their husband like that? But he understands that your circumstances aren't exactly normal, so he'll endure it with irritation. At the rate he's breaking you in, though, you'll soon be as pliant and obedient as he expects you to be. Perhaps you'll even start to love him back. Just the thought of it raises goosebumps on his porcelain skin and makes his hands tremble in excitement.

You don't understand why he's giggling right now.

He sighs your name, and crouches down to meet your stare. You flinch as a droplet of blood hits the tiles. Ivan's grin only widens when your shaking hands reach for his face and try to wipe the blood away.

"O-Oh, Ivan," You whine uselessly, getting up on boneless legs to grab the first-aid kit. He watches with bright, amused eyes. He knows you won't try anything anymore. He's confident in your compliance to him.

As carefully as you can, you wipe off the blood with paper towels, crying harder when it smears instead of going away completely like you'd hoped. It felt like your mistakes were going to be impossible to fix.

Ivan's cheery gaze never falters. Maybe this is the happiest you've ever seen him, despite the blood streaming into the gaps of his teeth and forming a grotesque image. Dusty eyelashes frame his smiley crescent moon eyes, cheeks ruddy as little alcohol-stained puffs of air pollute the cold atmosphere. You jolt when he chuckles throatily.

"What's wrong?" His voice is as sickly sweet as it always is.

"Y-You're mad– I made you mad. I'm sorry." You choke on your own words, trying your best not to drop the bottle of disinfectant in your weak hand.

"What did you do?"

"I–" You hiccup, "I d-didn't– I didn't listen to you. I wasn't good."

Unable to hide his pleasure, he laughs and leans in to give you a chaste, bloody kiss.

"It will be okay. I love you."

You're glad your crying masks the gag reflex that almost makes itself apparent when you know what you have to say next. You steel your nerves and dryly swallow the taste of Ivan's blood.

"I love– I love you too."

He gives you a pleased, closed-mouth smile, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking the bottle of disinfectant from you. He begins to tend to his own wounds.

"This does not mean I forgive you, though."

Just as you felt your whole world crashing down around you, Ivan saves you.

He breathes out a laugh, "No, I won't throw you outside again. It's much better staying inside with me, yes?"

You nod in a frenzy. "Yes! Y-Yes, much better. Please don't."

"Well," Ivan prefaces, disinfecting the cut on his nose before placing a bandaid on it. He turns his head to the side and spits out the blood left in his mouth. "You will have to tend to this wound. Kiss it better." And before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his tongue lolls out, brandishing the red bite mark from earlier.

Disgust registers for only a second.

Like an automaton made solely to serve, you lean forward, grasp onto his biceps, and press a needy, desperate kiss to his drooling tongue. He laughs while you lap at his tongue like a wounded dog, warm, alcoholic breaths brushing against your face.

After relishing in the feeling of your worship for a little longer, he gently pushes you to the ground and crawls over your jittery body, placing a hand against the small of your back to hold you up and closer to him, with the other gripping the outside of your thigh.

"You will not bite me this time?"

Nodding fearfully, praying the conviction in your eyes will be enough to warrant his forgiveness, you wrap your arms around his neck.

Sighing happily, he presses his cold lips against yours, taking the lead happily as he moans into the kiss. The sound was more out of the satisfaction of establishing his dominance rather than the actual physical pleasure.

Ivan doesn't usually indulge in sexual fantasies or acts, which surprises you considering how touchy the man is. His mind usually favors daydreams of a stable, domestic life with you. Ivan prioritizes establishing your relationship over anything else, so he doesn't really find the time to lull over menial things like sex. Marriage is one thing, but your total submission is another.

Then again, this doesn't mean that he fully doesn't have any carnal desires when it comes to you. It's you, for christ's sake. When his fantasies of dominance come into play, it seems only obvious that sometimes his thoughts wander into the bedroom.

Ivan fantasizes a lot about having you desire him as much as he does you. He wants you to need him like air. Wants to have you mewling his name and clinging to him like your life depended on it, which would quite literally be the case right now. Wants to see your pretty, pretty tears reserved only for him. Wants to see you fall apart in his arms over and over again while comforting you so meanly and kissing your crying face.

Ivan tries his best to not let these thoughts make themselves apparent, but fuck, do you make it so hard sometimes. How could any man not be affected by the sight of their adorable little housewife in an apron? Takes so much for him to not just grab you by your hair and bend you over the counter. Whenever you cry for whatever reason, he almost feels guilty over how instantly horny it makes him. Almost feels guilty when all he can think about is licking those tears off of your face and making himself the cause of them. God, he wants to play the role of a nice doting husband so bad, but he can't help but feel you up and breathe down your neck when you try on the dresses and lingerie he buys for you. He can't help grabbing your waist and pressing his erection against your ass– not on purpose, he just wanted to be close to you.

While aggressive in his approach, Ivan never forces any sexual acts that you refuse. Even if he's left high and breathing heavy, he still wants to be someone you don't completely hate. Be a good husband, be a good husband. He always chants to himself. All his prayers proved fruitful when he quite literally cried tears of joy during your first time together.

Ivan doesn't know what was different that day, he didn't expect anything, just to make out and have you reject him after a bit, but you just... kept going, until he was ramming into you, hands tight around your sweaty waist and fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight. He's never seen himself like this, moaning and gasping like a girl and feeling so fucking good that all that he wanted– all that he could think of was breeding you like a bull and how beautiful your family would be. God, the memory of you struggling, doing your best to take his thick cock and crying so cutely just trying to bottom out is engraved into the grooves of his brain. It makes his stomach feel all warm whenever he thinks of it. He wants to carve it under his eyelids so he can see it every time he blinks.

Ivan laughs a lot during sex, call him creepy, it's genuinely because he is just so damn happy that he can't hide it. Why should he hide it from you? He wants to show you just how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. You make him feel so damn happy and complete that all he could do was chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou– while whimpering, giggling, his tears dripping onto your face.

Maybe he'll get lucky again.

Without parting, Ivan carefully lowers your back to the tiled floor, straddling your body and snaking his long fingers under your blouse, resting them against your heated abdomen. He smiles into the kiss when you jolt away, tickled by how frigid they are.

The ends of his feathered gray hair tickles your wet face, your body shivering at all the different sensations attacking you simultaneously. The cold tiles, his freezing hands, his hot tongue, the faint taste of blood, the warm drool seeping out the side of your mouth, his arid breathing, the smell of alcohol–

Your hands, still by the back of his neck, reach up to ever-so-slightly tug at his hair to signal you needed a breather. Ivan makes a small noise of surprise, before pulling away.

He looks absolutely dazed, lips shiny with remnants of a spit trail, and lavender eyes heavy and glazed over with a feral lust. His breathing is labored, muscular chest rising and falling as he intently watches every minute expression your face makes. Despite the blatant lack of nudity, this might be the most erotic sight you've ever seen. Fuck, why does he have to look so good when you're supposed to hate him?

Right now, you were so exhausted you couldn't even remember what reason you'd have to hate him, despite there being enough that you could spend the rest of your life listing all of them down.

And just when you try to refuse by backing up, your thigh brushes against his boner and he lets out the most heated, breathy, shivery moan you've ever heard. The vocalization sounded like it was tailor-made to tantalize you, to tempt you into biting the fruit. And you know what? You were a sinner anyways.

"Bed– B-Bedroom."

A toothy grin appears on Ivan's face, and he exhales a breathy laugh. He looks absolutely delighted, and starved.

Without a second thought, he picks you up, and carries you to the closest one.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The next morning begins normally. Your body is sore, and covered in bite marks. That was one of the best sleeps you've had in recent memory. Ivan seems to think so, too, with his arms cradling your torso and a hand resting over your lower abdomen. The ache reminds you about what happened yesterday, you can still feel him in there somehow.

You woke up a little later in the morning compared to usual. Since you're still a little too exhausted to get up and begin cooking, you lay there for a while, listening to the quiet howling of the wind outside. You wonder when was the last time you heard any birds chirping.

Thinking of the outside world brings you a bit of dread, don't really like doing it. But when your life is so isolated and so alone, misery can become a form of entertainment.

The more and more days go by, the more and more do you forget what your life was like before meeting the Russian. The longer you live with Ivan, the more does it feel that he was just always there, and that your life before meeting him was a falsified memory. You're not even sure how much time has passed since, it's always snowing outside, every day feels the same.

That's the one thing you remember from before this life, the feeling of warmth. You're not sure you remember the feeling of it, really, but you're well aware of the absence it leaves behind. Maybe when spring finally comes around, you can open that door, and...

Eyebrows furrowing as a migraine starts to set in, you shake your head weakly. You didn't like thinking about the outside.

Turning over to face Ivan, you gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. He eventually stirs from his sleep, hugs you, and you do not struggle.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[kozachenko]

Finally decided to play around with my old lineless style again! Also figured out a way to draw Reimu that I actually really like!

Artist's Notes;

I've mentioned in a few earlier posts that I've been wanting to draw in my lineless style again for a while as a way to test what I've learnt from my previous style in regards to lighting. I did the face first and then for a while was thinking about doing a full body illustration of Reimu just to draw her outfit again. I'll talk about the face first since that's the first drawing I did in this batch.

For the longest time I really couldn't find a way to translate Reimu's face into my style. I was able to make her clothes work out well, just not really her face. I did like elements of how I drew her face a few other times, namely the tiny eyebrows and her pupils, but they didn't really feel like Reimu to me, or at least how I imagined her in my head. I then realized that it was less of a problem with the entire face and moreso the eyes, and it took me quite a bit of trial and error to make something that I was happy with. Also, as much as I thought the tiny eyebrows were cute, it didn't really make sense with her character. Like, from what I know about Japanese history, plucking your eyebrows was something that nobles (rich people) would do, and since Reimu is...neither of those things, I decided to just give her some thicker eyebrows instead (I will be saving the plucked eyebrows for another character though, so they will return). After I got to a face I was happy with, my next challenge was the hair. I did the front part first and liked that enough to continue, and then after more trial and error I realized that deep down I was a short-hair-Reimu-is-best-Reimu-truther this whole time because once I gave up on the long hair and gave her shorter hair something just clicked in my brain. And so, after drawing her outfit in again (this time without the yellow tie which is kinda sad but I'll find a way to incorperate it into future designs because it just was not making sense to me in context with the rest of the outfit) and finnicking around with the bow, I came to a version of Reimu's face that I actually liked. I thought that it made more sense for her character to have her cut it short, mainly because she's doing a bunch of Youkai extermination and she has to keep her hair out of her face somehow. I still wanted to make it kinda messy though, as Reimu is probably too lazy to clean it up herself. I think another reason I like it so much is because in Forbidden Scrollery, Moe Harukawa gave Reimu short hair and that really suited her, so I guess that was just a subconcious reason as to why I liked it so much. I also think that the shorter hair helps to separate her a lot from Marisa, as I think Marisa looks really good with longer hair. Speaking of, now I wanna do a drawing of her and Reimu together to really solidify how I draw them (unlike the previous version where it was just them standing). As much as I do like the face, I am concerned if she looks too much like how I drew Keiki now, but that might just be a product of the stylistic choices I made with her eyes and I might just be overthinking it. I am hyperaware of same face syndrome so that's probably the reason I'm so concerned about it lol.

Now for the fully body drawing. I was struggling to think of a good pose for her, so I just took a picture of myself and used that as a reference while still making slight adjustments for readability's sake. This is another case of, "I've looked at this too long and can spot every single issue with it" but this time I'm still happy with the final product mainly because this was a test drive for how I want to develop my lineless style in the future and for what it is I am more than pleased with the result. The main reason I deviated away from my lineless style was mainly because I was having a hard time with the lighting and making it interesting, and I am so glad that I've finally found a way to make it work! I'm especially happy with the clothes, as I think clothing folds are really fun to draw. I was somewhat inspired by the works of J.C. Lyendecker and the way he draws clothes, though admittedly it is not a one to one, since I mainly wanted to try implying the shading of the clothing folds with shapes (I do really want to do a study of his style one day as his art is incredible). So for the sleeves, I drew in a bunch of triangles where I wanted there to be a strong highlight, roughly coloured in the inside, and then blended them all so it looks like a more subtle. On both of these drawings, I also added in a noise filter to give it some texture (as that's what I used to often do with my drawings) and while I do like it, I might want to experiment with making it more subtle in the future, as it's pretty noticeable in both these drawings. Overall, I'm really happy with the lighting and colours of this drawing, and while I could nitpick several aspects of it (her hand holding the gohei looks too tense, I tried making her look like she was standing on the balls of her feet but the positioning of her Gohei's trail of papers ends up making it look weird, and I could've put more effort into the hair and bow and so many more things), this is more of a piece for me to experiment with my style again, and I'm excited for when I get a new idea for a piece, as I really wanna try some more stuff out with this style!

[meidailies]

i love your older designs for hdl from dt17!!! they're so skrunkly and feel so in character but i have to ask , do you have any hcs for older webby? (　＾ω＾)

thank you, anon!! webby is kind of tough for me to design – partly because i'm tripletpilled at heart and focus mostly on them lol, but also because the finale gives us a LOT of new info about webby, which makes her post-canon development more murky to me. not sure what to make of her future...

still, here are some sketches ^__^ design thoughts under the cut (spoiler warning for finale)

the visual design reflects the character, and generally, i feel there are so many places you could take webby after the finale, which makes it very difficult to pin down a look! does she lean into the Wanting To Be Like Scrooge thing even harder for a while, or does knowing her relation to him complicate her feelings about that? now that questions about her past are answered, what is her next step/adventure, and what might she pursue as a teenager developing interests outside of the family/home? how does that affect her style or identity? how do her friendships with lena and violet or may and june help her evolve? this requires ironing out how i think lena, violet, may, and june would develop too, which is a lot of work...

i really like pre-finale webby so, self-indulgently (and somewhat lazily), my headcanon designs mostly stick with how she's been represented in the show, with some nods to her new knowledge about her parentage. for now, i am not touching the rest of the questions i asked above... i'm approaching it from as purely visual a perspective as possible......... o(—(

i really like canon webby's short hair... i'm a short hair truther!!

instead of giving her scrooge's "cheek fluff", i made her "hair" sort of imitate the cheek fluff. i don't think it's meant to be cheek fluff anyway... classically, it seems to be scrooge's hair? i gave her his little cowlick as well.

i gave her teen design two bows, but i don't know if that's overkill. would teens like bows that much?? i am no longer a teen, so.

subtle references to her parental figures: the gem on her bowtie is like beakley's, and the dark trim on her outerwear is like scrooge. the blue + reddish color scheme of the cardigan is also meant to resemble 87!scrooge's coat.

i forgot to add this in, but it would be cute if webby accessorized her cardigan with little pins or patches, since she's very creative and decorates her notebook cutely :)

the unasked-for 20s/30s webby... i actually drew this version before the teen one! she keeps the gem and the dark trim, but her hair is a little more stylishly messy (vs. messy because she is a teenager) and the accessories are a bit more mature.

finally, a non-design headcanon: i think webby would be a good rollerskater. if you read this far, thank you LOL

[babyangelsky]

BL Boys I Wanted Carnally in 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do!

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

Remember this game? I'm bringing it back!

MERRY CHRISTMAS LET'S LOOK AT BEAUTIFUL MEN

♡ Fort Thitipong as Mahasamut (Love Sea)

I wrote a whole post about how badly I wanted to eat this man with a spoon and how stupidly fucking attractive he is because I could not keep it to myself. I WANT TO EAT EVERY LAST BEEFY GOLDEN INCH OF HIM AND THEN I WANNA DO IT AGAIN!

♡ Furuya Robin as Takashi (Love is Better the Second Time Around)

I see Hiro. I understand Hiro. If this man made this face at me, I would also go have a really good shower.

♡ Ngern Anupart as Arthit (Fourever You)

THEY MADE HIM A FOOTBALL PLAYER AND COVERED HIM IN TATTOOS I NEED PART 2 LIKE I NEED AIR *SCREAMS INTO A PILLOW*

♡ Great Sapol as Yoryak (Wandee Goodday)

He's my blog header and blog title for a reason. Putting this beautiful giant ass man in bunny ears and a tail was a gift *specifically* for me. A gift for which I am eternally grateful, bless you thank you P'Golf.

♡ Mark Sorntast as Pie (Battle of the Writers)

I would like to once again thank the cameraman for this very slow pan up Mark's body and I would also like to thank whoever decided that Pie should strip for Ozone because they really blessed us all.

♡ Top Piyawat as Namping/Sian (Every You, Every Me)

I want them both in very different ways which, once again, all the credit in the world to Top both for Looking Like That and for having the skill to portray these two characters so differently.

♡ Pond Ponlawit as Hill (Fourever You)

I don't ever not want Pond carnally when he is on my screen. He was also great and attractive as Third in Century of Love but he didn't get enough screen time and also they didn't show him to us like this:

♡ Joong Archen as Fadel (The Heart Killers)

Style's just like me fr because I would absolutely RUIN my life for this man. I would ruin several lives for this man. I'd beg, borrow, and steal for this man.

♡ Frank Thanatsaran as Atom (The Rebound)

Atom is too sweet and too good and too damn fine not to have gotten his happy ending. I would do so right by him. He'd get a happy ending and then some.

♡ Nagumo Shoma as Arashi (Love in the Air Koi)

No one has ever been more perfectly cast in anything ever than this man. Shoma was made to be the Japanese version of Payu. The daddy dom energy just drips off of him. AND THAT SHOT OF HIS BACK? STILL NOT OVER IT.

♡ Big Thanakorn as God (Monster Next Door)

He's just so unfair. The sweetest, greenest flag of a man ever and built like a goddamn tree it's NOT FAIR!

♡ Lin Chia Yo as Johnathan (See Your Love)

Peace and love to Xin Jia he's just a baby gangster trying his best but I would NEVER let Johnathan leave that bed whether I remembered how we got there or not. NEVER.

♡ Sailub Hemmawich as Oab (This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans)

The long pretty eyelashes and the fuck me eyes and that body I just--ONE CHANCE JUST GIVE ME ONE CHANCE OAB PLEASE

♡ Yin Anan as Jack (Jack & Joker)

HE HAS A NECKLACE OF MOLES AROUND HIS NECK! HE HAS A MOLE JUST BENEATH HIS SHOULDER BLADE! DO YOU GET IT DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

♡ Jaonine Jiraphat as Latte (Knock Knock Boys)

Of course he's on this list. Do you know how many of his gym thirst traps I've posted on this blog since this show aired? I would like to personally and very sincerely thank whoever styled Jaonine in this show.

♡ Max Kornthas as Tai (Two Worlds)

I'd get distracted too if he was looking at me like this while I drew him. Doesn't matter which version of him it was, I would let him do anything to me and if it was the scarface version, I could fix him.

♡ Poom Phuripan as Joe (My Stand-In)

The way I would give Joe anything he wanted just to see that beautiful face smiling up at me. Congrats to Ming for being rich and everything but he could never treat Joe as right as I could. I would babygirlify that man to within an inch of his life just like he deserves.

♡ Honorable Mentions ♡

I am going to break my own rules a little bit because this is my list and I can so I'm going to include:

Kevin Chang as Ever4 (Eternal Butler)

Like I know the show just started and thus doesn't meet my criteria but I can't NOT include our new favorite daddy dom robot butler because...

...reasons. If I do a list like this for next year, best believe he's gonna be on it again.

Nike Nitidon as In (180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us)

This breaks my rules even more but I watched this show for the first time like a week ago and it immediately landed itself on my list of favorite BLs ever because everything about it is like heroin to me and I NEED this man to be in another BL so desperately like you don't understand giVE HIM BACK TO ME.

[sysig]

Just thinking about @10yrsy’s Things, y’know, casually (Patreon)

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

-

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit. 

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it. 

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her. 

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

-

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.  

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too. 

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

-

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching. 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night. 

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous. 

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day. 

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt. 

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real. 

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force. 

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. 

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up. 

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground. 

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

-

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

-

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope. 

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm. 

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.” 

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought. 

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply. 

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change. 

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.