#but like no??? they still have to fiddle with the final product

[cry4mina]

Jealousy

(Sana x fem!reader)

Word Count: 6.7k

Smut/Play angst/Fluff

Summary: You have a friend from college that is coming to visit and is very affectionate with you. Sana doesn't like that and retaliates before taking this "issue" into her own hands.

TW: THIS IS JUST FUCKING WITH A HINT OF BACK STORY. drinking, food, eating, sex, oral, strap ons, jealousy, degrading, top sanaaaaaaaaa, choking, hand cuffs, just a whole brain rot moment. Let me know if I missed anything.

AN: Hey hi hellooooo! (I BARELY PROOF READ THIS PLS FORGIVE) I feel so out of practice with writing! I had the brain rot and needed to do the thing. I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you to @ghostykapi for always helping me get plot points down like girl what would I do without you and for @psylocke142 and @sscieloz because the three of you constantly keep me sane while I'm losing it when brain does not work LMAO

Please enjoy and drink some water today! Ask are always open and feedback is always welcome! :)🖤

“You don’t need to be nervous, babe. She’s going to love you!” reassuring your wife sitting next to you in the booth of your favorite cafe.

Nayeon, your best friend from college/roommate at the time was in town and wanted to visit and catch up with you - and meet your wife, Sana. You couldn’t be more excited for them to finally make acquaintance after years of talking both of them up to each other.

“I know, I know but I just know how much she means to you and I want to make a good impression, you know?” puppy dog eyes looking up at you, melting you as always.

Sana looked stunning today, wearing a lavender cardigan and a white tank top underneath with some light washed oversized jeans paired with white sneakers. Her hair is long and framing her face so perfectly, with a lavender bow in her hair.

Looking so sweet and kind, glowing in her seat while making eye contact with you. You’re so in love with her, a masterpiece come to life - moving ethereally and making beautiful waves that crash happiness and warmth into the depths of your soul.

Submerging you completely into Minatozaki Sana.

“And you will, my love.” slipping your hand into hers, toying with the ring that was the product of the love built between the two of you.

“You’re sure?” looking down at your hands intertwined, watching as your hands fiddle with the gold band and then back up at your eyes that were filled with pure admiration.

“Never been more sure about anything.” beamed back at her.

It was true, asking her to marry you was the best decision you had ever made and you would do it a million times over, in every single life.

Sana’s cheeks flush red, bringing the hand that wasn’t intertwined with yours under the table up to cover her own smile, sheepishly trying to not get flustered with the way you still flirted with her, even after years of being together.

“Hello! My name is Michael. Can I start you off with some drinks?” the waiter must have snuck up to the table while you were wrapped in each other.

“I’ll have a sweet tea, please.” looking over to Sana who is still trying to compose herself.

“And she will have a hot green tea with honey, thank you.”

“Ma’am?” looking over to Sana.

The waiter seems to be completely ignoring what you said your wife wants…Cocking your head and furrowing your brows, you tilt your head up to look at him.

“I’d like what she said I wanted, thanks.” confusion laces her voice as the waiter sighs with a smile at the sound of her voice and walks to gather your drinks.

“What the fuck is that about?” back tensing in anger, staring daggers at the man who just flirted with your wife.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” a cold finger catches your chin and leads you to look right into her eyes, inching her face closer and closer to you.

“Nothing to worry about, baby.” voice squeaking with pure happiness at your jealousy as she places her lips on yours, sending you into a whirl wind.

“I’m all yours…forever, remember?” lifting her hand out of yours to flash you the ring and wink.

It takes everything in you to not sink to the floor, you never should’ve taught her how to wink. It’s going to be the death of you and you’re already so weak to her touch that a wink on top of it could send you into a spiral of thoughts of love, and some others that are lust driven.

“Y/n?!” shouted from the front of the cafe, the voice is familiar that can only mean one thing.

“Oop! There she is!” standing up to spot her.

Seeing her and trying to catch Nayeon’s attention and wave her to the table.

Nayeon was wearing a very small crop top, showing off her stomach, and a very small pair of shorts. Very revealing, which doesn’t surprise you. She was always comfortable in her s

“You’re late!” is how you decided to her her attention.

Squealing at the sight of you, you open your arms for Nayeon to practically tackle you to the floor.

“I missed you so much Y/nnie! Look at you! You’re glowing. Ugh I just know that Sana is taking SUCH good care of you. And this, is your color.” grabbing your face and kissing your cheeks obnoxiously with a loud smack to each side, before tugging on the royal blue sweater you were currently wearing and pointing down to the shoes that matched it.

“I miss you too, Nay! I promise you she is and thank you!” bringing her in for another tight hug before letting go, Nayeon’s hand trailed down your arm and stopped in your hand, linking your fingers together.

Head turning start your introductions to one another and you realize that you might’ve forgotten to tell Sana that Nayeon is very physically affectionate…and that it meant nothing…oops.

Your wife’s jaw is on the floor, eyes wide and you can see the annoyance simmering underneath the shocked expression on her face.

“Nayeon! This is my wife, Sana.” throwing the word “wife” in, hoping that it would calm Sana enough to get through lunch so you could explain yourself later.

Already knowing that this was going to be a big conversation tonight.

“Oh my goodness! You’re stunning!” Nayeon let go of your hand and brought them up to grab Sana’s, pulling her out of her chair.

“It’s so so so lovely to meet you! I’ve heard so many wonderful things!” Joyfully offered to your wife as Nayeon wrapped her arms around her.

“Likewise!” Sana’s voice is chipper but the glare she’s giving you from over Nayeon’s shoulder is the exact opposite.

“Shit.” stated under your breath, as Nayeon and Sana part ways to create more small talk between the two of them, everyone taking their seats to get brunch started.

Sana and you take your place on the side of the table you were already on, Nayeon sitting across from you in the booth as your wife and bestfriend slip from small talk into questions about each other.

Both of them seem comfortable, this is great.

A jealous Sana was sexy, the way anger flared behind her eyes never failed to get you wet, even though it was usually not the time for it. Not willing to let this become a situation of jealousy because it’s Nayeon…if it was a stranger, sure but you want these two to get along.

Maybe Sana would get to know Nayeon and realize that the affection wasn’t something that meant anything at all.

Maybe she’s already forgotten.

The waiter walks back over and places your drinks down on the table, only addressing Sana in the process.

“Here you are, Ma’am.” his hands are slightly shaky as he placed the drink down.

“Thank you, sweet heart.” winking at him seductively.

…she had not forgotten…

You were regretting teaching her to wink even more so, as watched as the waiter’s thoughts leave his mind, swearing you could see his heart beat in his neck.

“uh…uhm...N-no p-p-problem, m-ma’am.” tugging at his collar to relieve some of the pressure Sana just placed on him.

Nudging her with your elbow, the look you’re giving her sliced through all the tension of this and was now turning into something she saw as a game.

Pawn move, your turn.

Nayeon is taking all of this in, without interrupting the show unfolding, leaning back in her seat and cocking an eyebrow. Does she realize what’s actually happening here or does she think that Sana is insane?

“I’ll take an iced americano, thank you.” to the panicked man, giving him the exit he seemed to crave so desperately.

“Right away, ma’am!” rushing off behind the doors to the kitchen, you swear you can hear his sigh of relief when he steps out of sight.

“So how is Jeongyeon? How are things?” inquiring so you can distract for what she was witnessing.

“She’s great! She’s back home with Dahyun. They just opened a coffee shop so they’ve been busy bodies with that.” smiling in pride of what her wife and best friend were doing.

“No way! After all these years of wanting to? I’m so happy to hear they’ve finally done it!” returning the sentiment back to her with excitement.

“And Dahyun is still rooming with you both, I assume?”

“Our perfect third wheel!” both of you burst into a giggle, Sana watches how close the two of you are.

You can feel her energy shift into possessive and jealous, more tense by the second as you continue on with brunch.

Nayeon reaches her hand over the table to grab yours, genuinely smiling at you as she prepares to say something.

Sana is seething next to you and you can already tell what she’s going to do about it.

“It’s truly so great to see you, I’m so happy they called a meeting here so we could get together and I could meet Sana too!” the warmth and friendship radiating off the sentence went right over Sana’s head as she laid her hand on your thigh, digging her nails right into the denim of your black jeans.

The waiter, Michael, comes back over with Nayeon’s iced americano and places it on the table.

“Do you need some more time to look over the menu? Or have any questions?” the poor boy is shaken to his core, and it’s about to get so much worse.

“What’s your favorite thing on the menu, honey?” Sana says without looking up at him.

“Oh, you know I love the ba-” you start.

“Not you.” putting her hand up to halt you, mid sentence.

“Michael.” looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes and a smile.

You swear you can physically see his knees turn to jelly.

“Uhm…well I r-really like the pancakes, ma’am.”

Rolling your eyes in disbelief, you wait for her response, making eye contact with Nayeon and communicating with her silently as all of this transpired.

“Pancakes it is then.” putting on her sweetest voice possible before handing him the menu and intentionally touching his hand.

“Wow, your hands are so strong…” caressing the top of one of them before pulling back.

“I wonder how useful those could be…”

“Sana! Enough!” the rage set in with you snapping at her, she had pushed this too far and she knows it.

“Oh, come on. It’s all in good fun, right?” kissing your cheek and then winking at him again.

“Right, Sweet heart?” referring to Michael again.

Staring at her in disbelief, your jaw tightens as you look back at Nayeon who is holding in her laughter, flushing red from the suppression.

“And no laughing out of you!” pointing to her across the table, her arms shoot up to claim her innocence.

“I’m just here to visit a friend! I swear!” chuckling through the sentence and bringing an ease to the table.

“A friend…right…” Sana seems to not believe but laughs along anyway.

Nayeon managed to cut the tension like she always did with a silly moment and for that you were grateful.

—

Over the course of this brunch, you had lovely conversations that everyone was involved in. Nayeon and Sana got along really well, despite the introduction, enjoying a lot of the same things and having lengthy conversations about many different topics.

“How long are you in town for?” Sana asked before taking a sip of her drink.

“I fly home tomorrow night, unfortunately.” sighing and knowing that the visit would be short lived.

“That’s too soon.” quipped back with a frown.

A sudden sparkle behind her eyes and the twitch of her brow shows you that she’s up to something.

“Where are you staying?” expeditiously inquired through a new tone of excitement.

“Well, this trip was very last minute so I’m hoping I can get a hotel down town by the airport. If anything, I can just sleep in the rental car and head to the airport tomorrow afternoon.”

“Nonsense! You’ll stay with us!” This surprised both you and Nayeon.

Sana offering Nayeon to stay at your home was a very big deal. You both really liked your privacy and for her to extend that invitation was...not like her.

“I wouldn’t want to impose!” Nayeon is dismissive of the thought, looking over to you for some hint that this would be okay.

Nodding to her very softly, you agree.

“I insist, Nayeon! I can’t have my wife’s best friend sleeping in discomfort when we have a perfectly good guest room for you to stay in.” Sana’s hand reaches out over the table to grab Nayeon’s, reassuring her that all was well.

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

“Great! I’ll get the check.”

The waiter must’ve been listening as he was immediately when he heard Sana wanted something. Nayeon let out a belly laugh when she saw how quickly he was present, and you rolled your eyes.

Reaching out to hold your hand, Nayeon decides to move a pawn on the gameboard.

“Y/nnie, did you ever tell Sana about what we used to do?” the flirtatious tone perks up Sana’s ears, the scowl on her face already gently forming around her squinted eyes.

“Nayeon, what are you talking about?” trying to brush off what Nayeon was hinting at so Sana wouldn’t get upset.

“What did you guys used to do?” attempting to keep cool about the new information that just dropped onto the table like an anvil.

“If Y/nnie doesn’t remember, I don’t think I should say, besides…I don’t know if you’d be too excited about hearing it anyways. Just a very fond memory to live in my mind then.”

Nayeon winks at Sana and then stands up.

“See you at your house!” swiftly walking out of the cafe.

—

The walk to the car was silent.

Only the sounds of your shoes against the concrete.

Walking around to the passenger seat, you open the door for Sana and wait for her to get inside. She’s just standing by the car and clenching her jaw, you can see the muscles flexing causing you to swallow harshly - nerves tingling as you walk around to the driver’s side door.

Sana suddenly slams the door closed without getting inside before promptly opening it again, for herself, and gets into her seat, closing the door behind her.

Blinking a few times at how petty that actually was, you slip into the drivers seat and start the car.

The first 5 minutes of driving are just as quiet as the walk to the car, Sana’s stewing in her jealousy next to you and you’re just waiting for her to say something.

Slowing down and stopping at a red light, you look at the road in front of you until you feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“What did you guys used to do?” sneered at you in disgust.

“We used to smoke weed and sit on a couch, babe. A few concerts, a couple parties but nothing that warrants this reaction.” trying to reassure her that there was no threat from Nayeon.

“Sounds like there might be more. Tell me.” her stern tone rattles you to your core…causing that flash of heat under your skin that screams in desire.

“I mean we hooked up once a long long time ago. But it was one time, and it never happened again.”

“You WHAT!?”

Uh oh.

“You guys had sex?!”

“Baby, we were 18 and young. Probably drunk. It only happened one time. I didn’t think it was that important.” trying to explain but she did not want to hear it.

At. All.

“No wonders she’s so fucking affectionate with you! She probably still wants to fuck you. What the fuck, why wouldn’t you tell me this?!” through clenched teeth and she crosses her arms and shifts away from you.

“Sana, it meant nothing then and it means even less now. I love you. I want to be with you. This was a long time ago, okay?”

Silence.

“Sana.”

More silence.

“Sana!” rising in volume to get her attention.

“Okay, fine. Whatever.” waving her hand at you, the weak signal that she would be fine about this.

“Sana, Nayeon is my best friend…okay? That’s all. You are my wife. I married YOU. Not her.” reassurance making it’s way to her as you try and defuse.

“I trust you. She’s your best friend…I’ll be on my best behavior.” rolling her eyes and sighing next to you.

A fight given up a little too easily…knowing her, she was planning something else.

This was going to be a long night, wasn’t it?

—

Dinner came and went as quickly as brunch did. Spending the night lounging around the house and watching movies with Nayeon and Sana was such a good way to spend the evening - despite the argument in the car earlier.

It seems like they’re getting along very well, giggling with each other and nonstop chatting. It seems Sana is getting comfortable and actually trying to get to know your best friend.

That warms your heart more than anything. She was really willing to put her jealousy aside for you…it’s impossible to not love her more and more every single day.

Nayeon and Sana decided they wanted to watch a movie, so you let them pick while you went and got some snacks from the kitchen.

Returning to find them on the couch whispering to each other, you decided to just sit on the other side of Sana and let them press play when they were ready.

They picked a weird comedy you had never heard of, you decided to just scroll through your phone while the movie played on.

—

Around 10pm, Sana stretched and yawned, leaning into your neck and sighing into you. Toying with the end of your shirt lightly and scooting closer to you.

“You getting sleepy, my love?” leaning your cheek against her forehead and wrapping your arms around her.

All she could do was nod her head softly and nuzzle into you further.

“Why don’t you go and get ready for bed? I’ll show Nayeon where she will be sleeping and meet you in there, okay?”

“Okay. Goodnight Nayeon. Thank you for today!” standing up, giving Nayeon a hug and sluggishly making her way to the bedroom you shared and closing the door behind her.

“She’s a tough one, huh? I never thought I’d see you go for someone jealous…especially with how jealous you get!” Nayeon nudged you as you both stood up and you made your way down the hall to the guest bedroom.

“I wouldn’t say though! She’s just not used to people being touchy with me. She likes a little jealousy…and I mean, you know I like possessive. Even if this round was a little intense. I’m really happy you both got to know each other better so we can do this more often” smiling at Nayeon.

“You both are a match made in heaven. I’m really happy for you, Y/nnie. She’s lovely. Good luck later!” booping your nose lightly and turning to go into the room.

“What does tha-…You know what, I dont want to know…goodnight.” dismissively waving your hand at her while closing the door shut. Her laugh can be heard from the other side of it.

Walking back to your own room, you can’t help but wonder what that meant…good luck? with what? Maybe it was just her trying to psych you out…

Trying to be quiet as you enter, you don’t see Sana on her side of the bed, assuming she’s still in the bathroom, you strip out of the clothes you spent your day in and changed into just a large T-shirt.

The bathroom door opens up softly while you’re bringing your clothes across the room to put in the laundry basket, not bothering to look up, you toss the clothes in the vessel and turn around to crawl into your side of the bed.

That’s when you finally register what is happening in front of you.

Sana has changed into her red, lacey night gown…the one that’s completely see through…the one she knows you can’t resist.

Trying not to drool at the sight of her and how sensual she is in her movements, the way her hips sway and the way she’s looking you up and down like you’re prey to her.

Taking a few steps closer to you, she watches as you stand there in total shock - ready to drop to your knees for her.

“I think I need to remind you what it means to be my wife.” sultry, sexy tone dripping off her tongue, melting through your brain - the ache for her very present between your legs.

“I think you need a reminder of who you belong to…” the sentence lingers in your mind as she makes her way over to you slowly.

Fuck.

She’s playing hard ball with you, wanting you to submit to her immediately…and you’re tempted. It’s hard not to be when she’s like this.

Usually so soft and sweet, but when that bedroom door closes, she’s in charge and you didn’t feel like giving her that power that easily, even if you knew you’d end up sore tomorrow.

“I need to be reminded? Ha! You must not remember what you did.” flipping the script on her, crossing your arms while you wait for your reply.

The devilish smirk translucently sits across her mouth for a moment, before dissolving seamlessly into the start of something that would haunt you all night long.

The game has begun.

“What I did?!” raising her voice at you and taking a defensive stance.

“After what YOU did with your little friend! And in front of me, no less!” Scoffing and crossing her arms at the memory.

Hesitating to say anything, you try and think of a how you want to navigate this. It’s obvious how this is going to end, considering the red lace that’s barely covering her body when the idea pops into your head.

Pawn moved.

“It’s cute when you’re like this” slowly walking up to her and placing your hands on her hips and leaning into her chest, lips mere inches apart.

“Whatever.” Arms still crossed under your chests pressed together as she fights to not wrap her arms around you.

“Awh come on, my jealous baby. You know it’s only you.” Trailing a finger up her side and watching as she swallows harshly, breath hitching as she mimics your movements.

As her hands glide up your sides, the tips of her fingers graze lightly over your skin and lift the over size shirt with them - revealing what was underneath.

Nothing.

Sana lets out a short laugh when she sees your bare ass, smacking it loudly and leaning forward into you with a hand slithered up the back of your neck and through your hair.

Check.

“And who says that you’ll get what you want from me? You think being a slut for others gets you rewarded?” rebutted in a whisper with her lips brushing past yours so delicately.

Pawn moved.

Hands coasting up her back and into her hair that’s tied into a bun, you kiss up her cheek and right to her ear.

“If you won’t, I know someone who will.” another peck to her cheek.

Check. Mate.

“Someone in the next room…she’s done it before. You’ve seen her hands, right baby? Can’t you just imagine how fu-”

Sana suddenly lets go of you. Shoving you, hard, onto the bed.

“Don’t fucking move. You’re going to regret what you said but any disobedience going forward will only result in worse. Do you understand me, whore?” the mood is rage scorched, scowling down at you as you nod your head one time before she sets off to the closet.

She pulls out the box, grabs her strap - the larger one - slipping it on and tightening the sides so it fits tightly. What surprises you is when she reaches back into the box and pulls out some hard metal handcuffs you rarely ever used.

“You think you can just talk about someone else fucking you and get away with it, bitch?” walking up to you, twirling her finger around in front of her, signaling you to turn over onto your stomach.

“Hands behind you.” her stern voice is making you dizzy, unable to actually register what she’s actually saying.

“Now!”

A hard smack to your lower thighs startles you, the sting is delicious but you listen to what she says and put your hands behind your back.

The metal is cold against your wrists, wiggling to see how tight they were. There wasn’t much room to move at all.

Running your fingers against the metal to find the loose bolt that usually releases the sex cuffs, you can’t find one that rattles against your fingers.

“Awh…you thought I’d use the fake ones on you?”

Oh, shit.

Sana pulls you to the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor and torso bent over the sheets. Taking the head of the strap, she runs it up and down your slit in a very unhurried fashion.

“Look how wet you are.” slapping the end of the dildo on your clit a few times just to hear it splatter against you.

“Did you get wet like this for her too?” gliding back over your slit this time dipping between your lips and grinding against your clit.

A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, the burst of pleasure that sent shockwaves through you.

“Answer me, slut.” she’s leaned over your back and in your ear, grinding softly against you.

Holding you down by the chain with one hand, the other slips up to your neck, holding your throat to force you to keep your head up.

“Why don’t you…fuck- ask her?” whined out between the sluggish strokes of Sana’s strap.

Immediately coming to a halt when what you said registers in her mind, she grips your throat tighter, you can feel her tensing her body.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?!” growled as she lifts herself off of you.

Rabid, feral and unhinged, Sana can’t seem to get a grip on herself. Taking the chain of the cuffs in her hand and tugging hard, she flips you over on your back. Lost in lust and rage, she grips the collar of the thin oversized shirt you were wearing and rips it clean down the middle in one harsh tug.

You’re lost in your own neediness as you start to drip onto the floor, waiting for Sana to make her move and put you in your place.

Watching as she stands before you, strap brushing up against your core while her hands are clenched into fists next to her.

You swear you can see the steam spewing from her ears and her jaw clenching. Nudging her hips forward, the sensation of the strap against you pushes you closer and closer to begging for her and you know that’s exactly what she wants.

Sana’s hand flies down and smacks your thigh, the sound is brutal but the pain is something you crave.

“I said, what the fuck did you just say?”

You’re melting, slipping into the mindset of wanting.

Wanting her.

Craving her.

“Baby” huffed out through the tension of the room.

“Please”

“Please, what?” leaning forward, her finger comes up to your collar bone and traces it down, feather light touches right over your nipple and slipping to your hips.

Her lips follow from your neck down to your nipple, brushing past her lips barely touching your skin as she descended.

“Sana, please…I need to feel you.” breathing becoming heavier as her mouth travels down to your hips, biting down when she’s low enough to cause the reaction she wants.

Bucking your hips forward, instinctual reaction from your body- her hand raises and smacks your tit. Moaning into the empty space in the room as Sana kisses her way down to your slick smeared lips.

Her breath against your pussy was enough to push you over the edge - a long carnal whine expelled in frustration at how slow she was going. Needing her to finally take you the way you knew she wanted to.

“Say. It.” maliciously whispered, eyes showing you that even if her face was stoic in this moment, there was a hunger in them.

Sana drags her tongue up your inner thigh, stopping right before you could gain any relief from the friction of her touch.

This was torture.

“Baby” a breathless attempt.

Sana inches her way back up to your mouth, leaving a trail of ever deepening teeth marks in her wake, until she’s face to face with you - noses caressing and lips teasing each other.

Tugging at the metal of the cuffs, you whimper at not being able to touch her. Wanting to pull her close to you and tempt her to break- to give in and give you want you needed from her.

Sitting in sounds of your shallowed breath, Sana smirks at you letting out a sigh.

“I can feel how wet you are, baby.” taking her hand down the the base of the strap and positioning it against your entrance.

“Dripping down my strap and knowing that you can’t touch me…Must be so agonizing for a whore like you.” taunting you through clenched teeth and a forced smile.

Gliding over your slit again, she brings her lips closer to yours, letting you lean up to her but pulling away before your lips meet.

The only thing you can think about is her ruining you. Burning sensations of the emptiness between your legs instructs you to rock your hips back and forth to try and get her to slip the tip inside you.

“What’s the safe word?” pulling out of the moment to acknowledge the boundaries.

“Red.”

As soon as the word flies out of your mouth, Sana’s hand is around your throat. Thrusting her hips forward painfully slow until she completely bottoms out inside you.

The moan you let out was music to Sana’s ears, wanting nothing more than to let the guest in your house to know who could make you like this…let them know who you belong to.

Pulling the attachment out to the tip, Sana slams back down - hard but at a slow pace.

“That’s right, honey.” hips cocking back again.

“Let her know you’re mine.” hips snapping into you creating a rhythmic slapping as she continues torturing you with the aggressively slow stake to her claim.

Lips finally meeting, you’re fighting the metal connecting your hands as you both passionately dissolve into each other.

Sana’s grip around your throat tightens as she slowly starts to pick up the pace of ramming the strap into you. Her other hand trails to pinch your nipple, giving it a flick and a few twists so you moan even louder.

Feeling all the euphoria she was presenting you with, you’re unable to stop yourself from whimpering and moaning. Any attempt at muffling them felt useless. The only sounds outside of your own moaning was Sana breathing heavier as she snapped her hips into you, was the sound of your slick against her aggressive, deep thrusts.

Sana suddenly stops, elbows on either side of you, her resting and catching her breath for a moment. Taking a second to brush the hair out of your face, she looks you in the eyes and snaps her hips into you, pressing against your cervix when she speaks.

“Does she fuck you like this, slut?” another harsh thrust.

“Unh! Fuck babyyyy- ungh” your own voice echoes off the wall and back to you.

“Can she make your pussy this fucking wet?” another rabid jolt of her hips.

The deep strokes of her inside you hit every spot imaginable, tingling building in your limbs as she keeps marking her territory with her mouth, bite marks and hickies litter your body haphazardly.

Pressure building from inside you, gasping for air when you realize how close you are to cumming.

“S-Sana! I’m gonna c-cu-”

“No.” is all she says when she pulls out of you completely and watches as you writhe and whine on the sheets.

Moaning and whining in protest as you feel the pleasure receding, Sana just smiles and watches you tear up.

“Tell me who you belong to.” tip grinding against you again, this time causing an almost out right panic in you.

“Only you! Sana, please! fuck me! I need it I need it I need it PLEASE.” tears rolling down your cheeks, inching yourself close to her.

“Sit up.”

You immediately do as your told.

Sana grabs the keys from the nightstand and unhooks your hands.

Immediately, without a second thought, you’re pulling her onto the bed and pushing her down. Her smile is huge, giggling at how desperate you are.

Sana’s hands make their way to your thighs as you fix your position on top of her, straddling her as you ease yourself down onto her.

Hands flying up to catch your waist before you can sink too far down on her, she holds you still and buck her hips up one hard time before allowing you to sit comfortably with the strap inside you.

Completely blissed out, you lean forward and lay on her chest with your face in her neck. Her soft sweet giggle can be heard in your ear.

“Is my good girl that desperate?” placing her hands on your ass and assisting you in slamming down onto her.

“I bet she couldn’t ruin you like this.” positioning her hips at just the right angle to hit your G-spot over and over again as she picks up her pace for you.

Loudly mewling out as she rails into you, the ethereal wave comes back and takes hold of you again. Slamming yourself down onto her on your own, you can only think about cumming for her.

Right as the orgasm is about to shatter through you, Sana flips you over and throws you into a mating press, thighs against your chest and starts jackhammering into you so deeply that it sets your skin on fire.

“Fuck, S-s-ana! I’m gonna c-cum! J-ust like th-that baby!”

“Tell me who you belong to, honey.” her tempo only accelerates.

“You! Only you!” turning you into a groaning mess as you come undone around her.

Vision blacking out, you practically scream as you lose your sense of self and turn into exactly what she wanted, a ruined wife.

Her ruined wife.

Every fiber of your being set on fire and you violently thrash underneath her, creating a mess on the sheets and all over your wife.

Sana is laying soft sweet pecks on your cheeks as she lets you ride out your orgasm, holding your hips still while she lightly rocks into you.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” kissing your forehead and standing up, removing the strap from inside you.

“Look at the mess you made” pointing to the lace smeared with slick.

Unable to catch your breath, you try to compose yourself to reply when she sinks to her knees between your legs.

“Let me help clean you up, honey.”

A long, wide tongued lick up your pussy has you twitching immediately, still completely sensitive and walking into overstimulated territory.

All you can say is “Fuck, baby.” as she laps at you, cleaning up the remanence of cum from your thighs and cunt.

Passing over your clit intentionally, she watches you squirm and moans into you. Hands immediately grasping at her head, trying to pull her closer.

“Is that what you want, baby?” before a rhythmic open mouth kiss engulfs your most sensitive area and turns you back into a groaning mess.

It wasn’t long before she added her fingers into your folds, slipping two in immediately and pressing them up while latched onto your clit.

Bucking your hips into her mouth, you release the loudest, guttural moan you’ve ever heard as you cum around her fingers. Barely giving you enough time to come down from your first orgasm, she expected this of you - cumming quickly for her a second time.

Feeling the droplets of sweat dropping from your forehead, you feel Sana crawl up next to you and snuggle into you. Still gasping for air, you rolled onto your side and nuzzled into her. She played with your hair until you eventually fell asleep in her arms.

—

Waking up the next day was an atrocious feeling, not enough sleep and more sore than you ever had been.

Cracking your eyes open, you realize the bed is empty and there’s laughter coming from the kitchen.

Sitting up and rolling out of bed, you stretch and wince before getting a pair of Sana’s sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt to cover yourself up.

Opening the door to the bedroom, you wipe the sleep from your eyes and meander over to where the sound was coming from, dragging your feet along the way.

Sana and Nayeon are drinking coffee together in their pajamas - Sana is wearing one of your shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, a stark difference to what she wore last night. Nayeon has on something similar.

“Well good morning to you, Y/nnie!” Nayeon blurts out before falling into a thunderous cackle.

“You look like you got beat up! I said good luck, didn’t you hear me?” continuing to laugh with Sana.

“How bad are they? I didn’t check my neck in the mirror…wait, you…you knew?!” squinting at her in judgement.

“They’re pretty bad…Sana must have a biting kink, hm? And of course I knew! The tension between the two of you can be felt light years away. Plus, you weren’t exactly quiet about it.” fighting the laughter as she winked at you.

Nayeon’s hands shoot up in innocence again.

“She’s yours, Sana. I wouldn’t dream of taking her away from you.”

Looking over at Sana, she’s got her hand over her mouth trying to stifle the giggles. She walks over to pour you some coffee.

“I think it’s more about possessive and less about biting…And what are you laughing at?! You started this!” pointing at your wife as she turns beat red.

“No I didn’t.” nonchalantly as she passes you the mug.

“Nayeon should be happy that she’s leaving tonight.” sipping the warmth and smacking your lips at the taste.

“Why is that?” curiously inquired by Im Nayeon.

Looking over at Sana, she’s embarrassed and covering her face with her hand again but for different reasons.

“I didn’t flirt with you, but Sana flirted with the waiter in front of my face like that so I’ll put it this way…I know someone who’s louder and about to get it a lot worse than I did.”

[bihet-dragonize]

I'm officially tired of seeing ai art discourse

[bumblequinn]

hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

[scarletlizzard]

Her Favorite Drug

Pairings: wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: drug use (marijuana), smoking, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, stap on use (R receiving), fluff because I tortued yall with my last story

Summary: Your girlfriend is a stoner. One night, you decide you finally want to try some.

Masterlist

A/N: This is just smut oops. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. Also, the pics with the backward hats kills me every fucking time. Anyways, have fun 💚

Wandas delicate fingers expertly pack in the unfamiliar green into a brown wrapper. You watch closely, feeling her breath on the back of your neck and tickling your ear as she speaks.

"See detka? Then I'll just roll it up like this.." Her voice is soft as she speaks. You nod, eyes stuck on her fingers as they begin to roll the paper.

You were currently sitting in Wandas lap, her arms working in front of you to wrap another joint. In the year you had been dating, this was the first time you were going to join in on your girlfriends favorite recreational hobby. It was no secret that Wanda smoked weed, almost every night to be exact. You had never really been interested in smoking it, but you loved to watch her enjoy it.

Tonight was different. Tonight, you finally wanted to know how it felt. Wanda was surprised at first when you asked, but she was more than happy to pull you into her lap and show you how she does it.

"Lick along here for me," she says, drawing a line on the wrapper. You lean forward away from the warmth of Wandas chest to follow her instructions. "Perfect, baby!" Wanda praises, fiddling with the joint for only a moment before holding it out in her hand to show you the final product.

"Now it's ready?" You ask her, turning sideways on her lap. Your back rests against the arm of the couch, and your legs lay across her thighs.

Wanda nods, a grin on her face, "It's ready. I'll go first, you watch me, okay?"

You had planned on it. Wanda couldn't be more sexy when she smoked. You watch her bring the joint to rest between her lips, the other hand holding a lighter to the end of it. It catches easily, and Wanda inhales deeply before removing it from her lips and blowing out smoke. You press your thighs together tightly, Wanda always had that effect on you.

"You ready, baby?" She asks with a smirk, resting her hand to rub small circles on your leg. You nod slowly, reaching out your hand. "Just take a small one at first.." Wandas voice is husky from the smoke, only making you squeeze your legs tighter.

You begin to smell the familiar scent of the weed as smoke fills the air between the two of you. Here you go.. you take the drug between your lips as Wanda did, breathing it in. It's smoother than you thought as you inhale, but the burn in your lungs was unexpected. Wanda quickly takes the joint out of your hand as your eyes widen, and you let out the smoke with a set of coughs.

"Fuck.." You mumble out between coughs. Wanda chuckles and reaches for a water bottle, handing it to you. She watches with dark eyes as you sip the water, smoking the joint with no problem.

"Burns, huh?" She smiles and rubs your back soothingly as you nod at her, still drinking the water.

After a few moments and the burning resides, you take another hit. You feel your tensions disappear. Another one, and you feel an overwhelming rush to your head, not in a bad way. Then another, and so on until you and Wanda are finished with the joint. Your senses feel heightened.

You finish off the water as Wanda sets what remains of the joint in an ash tray. She smiles at you with red, squinting eyes, "Come here, baby." She chuckles and maneuvers you, so you're straddling her lap. "How do you feel?" She whispers, staring into your red and glossy eyes.

You giggle at her sentence, for some reason finding it funny. The lighting in the room was dark. Only a few string lights lit above the wall shone brightly against the side of Wandas face. There was a cloudy haze above the couch and in your mind. You felt...

"Like I'm floating," you giggle more, causing Wanda to chuckle. Her fingertips run along the hem of your shirt, sneaking under the back of it. They make their way slowly up and down your spine, the feeling practically euphoric in the state you were in.

"Feels good, huh detka?" Wanda mumbles as she plants soft kisses on your neck. So, so soft.. is all you could think. Your eyes close at the sensations. You nod, and you know it's too slow. Wanda lifts her head to look at you, and you take advantage by holding her face in your hands.

"So good, Wands.." Your thumbs rub over her cheeks as your eyes take in her features. You swallow hard, looking at her red lips and thinking of the way they kiss you softly. Your eyes travel down to her sharp jaw, your fingers tracing each feature you spot. "You're so pretty," you whisper with a giggle.

She laughs.

God, her laugh..

Your thoughts are slow as you look down to a freckle on her neck. Christ, you want to kiss it.

So you do. You lean forward and press your lips to her neck, feeling how warm her skin is under your kiss. Wanda lets out a low hum in response, so you kiss it again. Her nails scratch softly down your back, so you bite down on the skin and suck gently.

"Detka..." Her head lulls to the side, giving you more space. The thick accent in her voice only makes the ache for her stronger. "Baby," Wanda groans as your lips work their way down her neck. Her hands move down to your waist, "Move against me," she moans out, gripping your hips.

You rock back and forth in her lap, letting out a moan at the pleasure of the small amount of friction. As soon as your lips leave Wandas neck she's pulling off your shirt, along with her own. Among the haze you feel her breasts press against yours, and she leans forward to kiss you.

The kiss is unlike any you had before with her. It truly felt magical. You still felt like you were floating, and you could feel every inch of her skin on yours. "Need you.." You whimper in between kisses, still grinding yourself down against her lap. Wanda only moans in response. She continues to kiss you as she stands, still holding you. Your legs wrap around her waist.

The walk to her bedroom is short, and you don't even realize it until she's lying you down on the edge of the bed. The only thing you can think of is the way her lips fit perfectly against yours. You whine when she pulls away, frowning as you see her red and puffy lips that you still wanted to be touching your own.

"Now, now, detka.." She says, sliding down your pants. Bare for her to see, Wanda shakes her head as she gets down on her knees in front of the bed. "Fuck.. you're always so pretty for me." She mumbles in between wet kisses on your inner thighs. Your head was spinning between the lust and the weed, your body was begging for her touch.

Her hands move to hold your thighs open, gripping down tightly on the soft skin. "God, I can't wait to taste you," Wanda groans. You feel her lips attach to you clit, kissing it gently. Looking down you see green eyes peering up at you, a wicked grin on her face as she takes one long lick up your slit.

"Wanda, please.." You moan out, bucking your hips towards her. Your hands grip the sheets, and she can no longer hold back. Wandas mouth attaches to your wet pussy, her experienced tongue sending you into a frenzy.

"Mmm.." She moans against you, sending vibrations onto your clit. "You taste so good baby, just like always.." Wanda moans again, sucking softly on your clit. "Always so fucking good.."

"Ohh god, Wands.." You moan out, barely able to watch as she continues to move her tongue sinfully. Suddenly, you feel two slender fingers at your entrance, pushing in easily with how turned on you were. "Oh, fuck!" You whine out as she begins to pump her fingers inside of you, her lips sucking on your clit. Wanda can't help her own moans as you call out her name.

"That's it, babygirl.. just like that.." Her lips smack as she removes them from your clit, glistening in the dim lighting with your juices. You stare at her with red eyes as she kisses her way up your body.

"Baby I'm gonna cum, please," you moan.

"Cum for me then, detka." Wanda coaxes you, watching with dark eyes. She could get off right now at just the sight of your body beneath her, the way every one of her touches raised goosebumps on your skin. Wanda feels you tighten around her fingers, wet walls pulling them in. She smirks down at you. "That's it.. just like that, fuck.." She mutters.

You repeat her name as pleasure flows through your body, your climax crashing over you like waves. You knew being stoned would be different, but you hadn't expected to feel this euphoric. Your eyes open to see Wanda staring down at you with stars in her green eyes.

"Wanda, that.."

"I know, detka," Wanda chuckles.

You take her face in your hands and kiss her passionately. The way her tongue swipes across your lip and the fact that you can taste yourself has your body heating up all over again. You feel a familiar fire burning in your lower stomach as Wandas naked body rubs against yours.

So, so soft...

So, so warm...

You don't know how long it is, with no sense of time, that you had been kissing Wanda. But she parts with swollen lips to walk across the room. You feel yourself throbbing as you know what she's getting, what she's about to do. Wanda walks over to you, her strap now attached to her.

"Sit up, baby," Wanda says gently and helps you sit up. She moves to sit at the head of the bed, her back sitting against the headboard. "Come here." She smiles at you, helping you straddling her lap. "Such a pretty girl, for me, aren't you?" You nod in response. "Then ride my cock like the good girl you are." Her voice is stern, but soft.

Wanda practically lifts you up before you settle yourself down onto the faux cock. Your mouth parts and your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of her deep inside you. Any pain quickly turns to pleasure as she guides you with hands on your hips to begin moving.

All you could grasp was the feeling of Wandas hips snapping up to meet yours, the way she moans your name, and how soft the skin under your hands was. Your hands traveled from her shoulders, to her neck, to her jaw. You couldn't pick one to settle on. You had to keep touching her.

Wanda could feel, with every thrust of her hips and every bounce of your body, the strap rubbing her in all the right places. She could feel her skin burning against yours.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," She moans along with you, sinful sounds filling the room. "You're doing so good detka, fucking bouncing on my cock like that." You only manage a whimper out, legs shaking as they were about to give out underneath you.

Wanda suddenly grabs ahold of you, lifting both of you up and lying you onto your back. She pounds relentlessly into you, and you know at this angle you're not going to last long.

"Oh god, Wanda! Feels so good!" You cry out, feeling her breasts press against yours. The muscles in her arms flexed as she held herself above you.

"I know, baby, I know.." Wanda praises. Your hands hold onto her back, leaving scratches down her back as she continues to thrust into you with no mercy. She grunts at the feeling, loving the way you held onto her.

Wanda is met with more resistance as she thrusts, your walls tightening once again around her. "Are you gonna cum again for me baby? Fuck, fuck.." She can't help the low moan that escapes from the back of her throat. This time you can only nod, mouth unable to form actual words. "Fuck Y/N I'm gonna cum!" Her hips waver, that steady rhythm she had finally faltering. "Cum with me, detka. Cum for me," Wanda pants out, hot breath hitting your sticky skin.

That's all it takes for you to repeat her name again, over and over like worship. Another orgasm crashes over just like before, waves hitting you over and over.

You don't know how long you'd been laying like this, but you were loving every moment of it. Wanda held you close under the covers, at the wrong side of the bed. You felt the soft fabric of your pillowcase tickle your toes. The two different highs you experienced tonight slowly fading away.

"I guess I could probably do that again," you say with a giggle, your finger tracing imaginary letters on Wandas chest. She hums in response, kissing your forehead. You could feel the smile plastered on her face.

"We're definitely getting you stoned again," Wanda laughs and moves herself on top of you again, settling herself between your legs. Her green eyes were just that, no sign of bloodshot anywhere.

Wandas' regular usage had her craving more already.

So she kisses you again, her favorite drug of choice.

[lotusunique]

The engagement pt.2

Armando Aretas x Black Fem!Reader

In which the Reader has to attend Kelly and Dorns engagement party where an ex lover will be attending

You look up at the clock it was damn near 6:30 and you still weren’t fully prepared. Maybe it was the anxiety getting to you. On top of that you didn’t actually tell Kelly that Armando was your plus one. It wouldn’t really matter to her , you did all work together anyhow.

You vacuum and straighten up your living room, making sure not a single thing is out of place. Your personal house rule was whenever you leave for a period of time the house had to be neat so that future you wouldn’t have to clean up.

“Okay what else to do , what else to do”, you think aloud scanning your apartment. You spot your packed duffel bag in the corner beside your plant. “Hair! What the fuck”,you realize what’s missing.

You run to your bathroom and gather your products. This curl routine was not gon be easy to do within twenty minutes.

-25 minutes later-

“Okay curls poppin’!”,you say admiring how well your curly hair looks. “Let’s just hope this Miami heat gives me a few hours before the shrinkage sets in.

You quickly go to grab your outfit off your freshly made bed. Everyone knows you don’t wear your outfit while you do your hair. You smooth out the creases of the bodycon dress, eyeing how it accentuates your body.

You hear a loud knock on the door, “Shit!”, you say. “So Drug Dealers are fuckin punctual”,you groan. Grabbing your heels from the bottom of your closet you hear another knock.

“Cominggggg”, you call out. You finally make it to the door and attempt to steady your breathing.

You open the door revealing Armando in all black, his gold chain and cross pendant dangling around his neck and motorcycle helmet in hand. “How can someone look so sexy”, you think to yourself.

“H-Hey”,You stutter. “H-H-Hi”,he mocks you with a wide smirk. “Shut up”,you roll your eyes before letting him inside.

“Your place is nice”,he says looking around, eyeing the cozy loft. “You can sit anywhere you like. I’m almost dressed, i just need to grab the rest of my jewelry.”,You say looking over at him. “Cool take your time”,he says going to lounge on your couch.

You return to your room, grabbing a heart locket that matches your heart pendant earrings and your favorite tennis bracelet. You slide on your bracelet and earrings before making your way to the living room where Armando’s sat scrolling through his phone.

You look into the small mirror that’s against your wall checking your reflection before attempting to hook the clasp of your necklace.

“Why are these things so frickin hard to put on.”,you groan aloud. Before you know it, Armando is behind you, “hold your hair”,he says grabbing the necklace from your hands,you and his fingertips grazing each other, sending shivers up your spine.

Doing what he says, you hold your hair in one hand, watching as he fiddles with the clasps before finally letting the necklace lay flat on your deep mocha coloured skin.

“Thanks”, you smile up at him. He towers you by a few inches,causing you to look up at him. He nods without saying another word.

“Okay, I’m ready-“,you say reaching for your bag. Before you can grab the bag, he picks it up with no hesitation. “You don’t have to do that?”,you say furrowing your eyebrow at him.

“¿Qué, los traficantes de drogas no pueden tener modales?”, he asks raising an eyebrow with a smile. (What,Drug dealers cant have manners?)

“Oh shut up”,You laugh before the two of you walk out your apartment, you locking the door behind you.

The two of you walk out to where his motorcycle is as he hands you his helmet. “Is it safe for you to ride without one on?”, you ask. “I’ve done way more dangerous shit than this. Trust I’ll be fine princesa “,he says before getting onto the bike. You follow his lead before tucking the motorcycle helmet over your head.

Of course with your line of work you’d been on a motorcycle before, but you’d never been on a motorcycle with Armando. You lean into him, getting a smell of his cologne that makes you melt. He has just the right amount on, you hated when dudes smelt like they bathed in the shit.

Breezing through the streets of Miami, clinging onto him was something you could do forever it felt like.

Holding onto him made you feel so safe and secure, like nothing mattered in this moment. “We’re here”,he says, causing your heart to somewhat sink. “I wish I could ride for five more minutes”,You mutter under your breath. He turns to you, hearing exactly what you said,”what?”,he adds a laugh.

“Huh?”,you respond pretending like you didn’t say anything. He lets out a laugh before the two of you walk to the beach house’s front door.

“Heyy!”,Dorn opens the door,embracing you in a hug. He nods to Armando in the way that dudes usually do before eyeing the two of you.

“You two together?”,He asks.

“N-“

“Yep”

You look over confused at Armando who has a grin on his face.

“So when did you two happen?”,Dorn asks giving a confused glance. “Huh? What’d ya say Kells?”,You call out, pretending , to get out of this god awful awkward situation. “Gotta go”,you speed walk over to Kelly.

“My beautiful best friend you look gorgeous”,You smile admiring your best girl. “Thank you”,she smiles, pulling you in for a hug. “Let me show you to your room.”,She offers. “Okay let me grab my plus one”,You say. You walk over to Armando and Dorn who are deep in conversation. “Can I borrow him for a few?”,you ask. Dorn gives you a quick nod before talking to the other party guest.

“Oh hey Armando. You two..came together”, she gives a sneaky smile. “Yeah”,You give a quick forced grin, essentially telling her to hurry up and show you the room. “Right this way”, she nods her head and leads you two to the upstairs area of the beach house.

“Right here is me and Dorns room, this is Rafes room and Dorns brothers room.”,she starts. “And this one at the end of the hall is yours.”,she says. “Get unpacked, relax a little and then you can meet us downstairs”, She advises before disappearing back down the stairs.

You drop your bag on the side near the bed, Armando following your lead. “Why did you tell Dorn we’re together?”, you ask, trying to whisper. “The whole point of me coming with you is to make it seem like we’re dating right? Gotta make sure we look like we’re together”,he explains. “Okay you’re right.”, you sigh.

“Como siempre”,He laughs (I always am) “Shut up”,You laugh before the two of you return downstairs.

You strike up conversation with your co workers and some of Dorn and Kelly’s families, both already knowing you because of the history you have with the two of them.

You spot commotion coming from the front of the house and a sinking feeling enters your stomach. You start to fidget with your finger-tips when you spot him.

The man that attempted to ruin your life.

[fireblossomdoll]

Ups and Downs

Synopsis: You're pregnant and having mood swings today, but Madara makes you a snack

Content: Uchiha Madara x Reader, f!reader, pregnant!reader, pregnancy!!, fluff, crack, mood swings

Word count: 987

A/N: A request from anon <3 (here are hcs about Madara and pregnant!reader)

You were already in the third trimester of your pregnancy. You couldn’t wait for your baby to come. You had picked and decorated a room with Madara, both of you really wanted this child. 

You decided to go to the market today to buy a little charm you had heard of. You had seen some children wrapping these cute pendants on their kunai, so you wanted one for your baby. The streets weren’t very crowded today, making for the perfect day out.

When you got to the store, you couldn’t find the charms. You had asked a few kids where they had gotten theirs and all of them led you here. Yet, as you searched the shelves, you couldn’t find the damn thing. Even worse, there was no staff in sight. You marched further into the store, looking for someone who could help you, and you started to think this trash place was empty.

“Hello?” You asked, annoyingly to no response.

“Hellooo??!!” You asked again, raising your voice so that the store’s useless employee could hear you.

An ugly, greasy looking guy appeared from behind one of the shelves.

“Hello, ma’am! How may I help you?” He said with his ugly smile. He sounded so nice it made you frown immediately.

“Finally! Where are you people hiding the cute charms I’ve seen around?”

“Uh, our kunai decor?”

“Are you dense? Yes, the kunai charms.” You were getting increasingly irritated by this.

“We’re unfortunately out of stock of this item.” He said, still with that hideous smile.

“The hell you mean, out of stock?! I’ve seen it everywhere!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It is indeed one of our most popular products, and because of that, it’s currently sold out.”

“Argh!”

You were exasperated and left the store in a bad mood. You just wanted to do a nice thing for your baby, but everyone seemed to be against you today.

As you walked back home, more people started to come to the streets. Of course, you couldn’t even have this one thing.

In front of your house, you saw your roses blooming. They were so pretty! You remembered how Madara helped you find the seeds, plant them and take care of them. Even if he didn't really want to garden, he still helped you grow these beautiful roses. 

Madara had taken such good care of you during this pregnancy. You loved him so much, you couldn’t have asked for a better husband. He always made sure to not let you use too much effort, and he smelled so nice.

He would let you play with his hair while he cooked you breakfast, lunch and dinner. His hair was so soft and long, you loved fiddling with it. Oh yeah, sometimes it would smell like roses if you two worked with them for too long. And he would cook for you. Such delicious food, but maybe not what you wanted right now. You wanted something lighter and sour, like a green apple. But also very sweet, like honey.

As you wandered through the living room, you heard muffled voices coming from the other side of the house. You went towards Madara's office and put you ear on the shoji to listen to what he was saying.

“–find the scrolls? –”

“ –working on it. The team hasn't–”

You couldn’t hear it properly, but what they were talking about didn't matter. You knocked and waited. Nothing happened so you knocked again, with a little more force.

“Hmm? Come in.” You heard Madara's deep voice come through.

You opened the shoji, seeing Madara and Hikaku with some scrolls laying on the table. Both looked back at you, as you stayed halfway hidden by the shoji, not really entering the room.

“Madara,” You dragged his name a bit.

“Yes?” He gave a little cute smile.

You looked down and around the round before continuing, “I wanted something to eat,” He arched an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but you kept going, “Some apples dipped in honey would be very nice, you know?”

“Right now, dear? I'm in the middle of something,”

“Please? Cut apples with honey sounds so good, though,” You insisted.

He sighted and stood up.

Did you bother him too much? Maybe he was tired of working and trying to get done was fast as possible, and you made him late. Or maybe he was very concentrated and you interrupted all his thoughts by coming here. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? No, my love, I'm not bothered at all, just getting up,” Madara looked in your eyes, “This wasn't so important, Hikaku can deal with it by himself.”

“So it was important matters that I–”

“Not at all, let's get going,” He interrupted you and pointed towards the hallway, “Shall we?”

You followed him to the kitchen, where he picked a couple of green apples from a basket.

“You should sit down,” He told you as he grabbed a knife.

You sat down by the table and kept looking at Madara as he prepared your snack. He looked so good today, it made you smile.

When he finished cutting the apples, he poured honey into a small bowl. You were very happy with how things were looking. The honey and the apples looked delicious, you couldn't wait for Madara to bring them to you.

“Now, now, here's whatever this is supposed to be.”

Madara placed two bowls in front of you, the sliced apples and the honey. 

“Yay! Thank you!” You said as you reached out to grab one apple slice.

He walked to your side and bowed his upper body until he was slightly above your head. “No problem. Try not to make a mess with the honey, okay?” He told you before kissing your temple.

“Sure,” You said with your mouth full of apple and honey. “It's so sweet!”

“Well, it is honey,” He giggled, leaving you in the kitchen.

[heresan]

When you're perched so prettily on his lap with your arms loosely coiled around his neck, Wriothesley truly wonders what he's done to deserve this一to deserve you and your love and your affections.

There's an endearing boyish smile on his face as you lay only the softest and sensual kiss after sweet kiss on either side of his cheeks, the small scar just at the prominence in deserving of a little extra attention from you. His thoughts become addled when the warmth of your lips spread from his jawline, neck and the corners of his mouth before the long-awaited blissful exchange after enduring all your teasing.

When you draw back slightly, your boyfriend's face is stained all over by the lipstick you'd been wearing since the morning. But there's a reason behind this gesture of tenderness, a greater purpose that lies with all the women in Fontaine in hopes of developing a long-lasting and transfer-free beauty product, or so that's what you like to tell yourself.

Sigewinne had asked you to test her newly formulated cosmetic and provide her with your honest feedback in her survey, while mentioning that at her recent beauty lecture a few audiences had brought to her attention if there's a possibility of such a product. And so, here you are testing how the lipstick wears after food and drink, with a personal experiment of your own for its kissing-proof capabilities.

"Perfection. Would you believe me if I said you look much more handsome this way?" You're almost admiring your handiwork as you do a once-over, but remember that the product doesn't hold up to its original purpose. The lipstick checks out on moisturizing long-wear while still being relatively low-maintenance, but you'll just simply have to report your findings back to the Head Nurse to improve the final product. "I suppose I'll have to let Sigewinne know that there's a bit of transfer."

"More handsome with all this lipstick smear? It might just be because I have someone so beautiful to kiss me." Wriothesley chuckles, as his thumb wipes the slight smudge overlining your bottom lip that’s already begun to fade after doing a number on him. "Perhaps she only needs a little more practice in making a product that can survive our kissing. But a little lipstick stain isn't going to hurt anyone."

You offer a content hum, agreeing with him as you lean forward to press a peck to his lips that he more than gladly returns with a fervor of his own. Wriothesley brings you closer to him by the waist and his tongue runs along the seams of your lips for entrance, deepening the kiss in a heavenly traverse and you instinctively clasp your hand gently into the back of his hair. The pigment spreads and stains upon his lips once more before what's left connecting you both is a string of saliva, and the sound of soft panting for air fills the silence in the room.

Your cheeks feel warm and your heart impossibly full as your head rests comfortably on his shoulder, your fingers fiddling and twirling with his maroon tie as you revel in this feeling of giddiness. "Thanks for letting me steal you away from your work again. I was afraid you wouldn't have time for me between managing the prison and your scheduled uninterrupted tea breaks."

Wriothesley laughs softly at your teasing and plants a chaste kiss to your temple. "Don't worry about it at all, sweetheart. You shouldn't be surprised that I always have time for you. Besides you're not doing anything but letting me have my fun."

He then peers at the swell of your messy lips, a playful smirk gracing his features with a quiet craving behind his gaze. He only wants to feel more of you, like his hands and mouth can't stop wanting to search for every last part of you. And you can’t really blame him for finishing what you started. "Perhaps I should kiss you again and again until it's all but disappeared, hm?"

[yurmomsawh0r]

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - 𝐏𝐭. 𝟑

•.*•.*• 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 - 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤! 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧, 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐞), 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐮𝐛-𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧 (𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞), 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐮𝐩 (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐭)

•.*•.*• 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝟐 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭!

Eren caressed your thighs gently, while cradling his daughter to his side. All three of you were cuddle in the gigantic bed that you both shared. You felt complete. Like a piece had finally been filled. Well almost. There was still things that needed to be discussed between you and Eren. Things that you knew you didn’t want to bring up but it had to be done.

You started to drift off, but woke up once you felt Eren shifting to get up. Carrying Aaliyah in his arms, he snuck out of the room, probably to go put her in her own bed for the night.

When he came back, he went to his bedside drawer, no doubt going to pull out a backwood he already had rolled and ready to smoke.

You were right. Eren had pulled out a fat backwood and sparked it right there without a care in the world. You laughed, “Seems like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Eren only glanced back at you before going back to hitting the wood. Looking down at your fiddling hands, a sigh left you. Oh boy, here we go.

You knew what that look meant. A look of frustration and disappointment.

“𝐖𝐞’𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲/𝐧. 𝐈 𝐭𝐨𝐨, 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” He spoke softly but demanding. “𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. . .“

You slid off the bed and came around to where he sat across from you. You had on nothing by his plain white tee and a pair of panties. He looked you over, his eyes trailing from your head down to your feet, but he never spoke a work to you. Only hitting the blunt and waiting for you to answer him.

With a deep sigh, you started.

“You changed Eren.” Was all you said.

“𝐆𝐨 𝐨𝐧.” He pushed, only making you all the more uncomfortable. He must have seen the look of discomfort on you, so he passed the wood, better yet, he placed the wood at your lips to take a drag. Allowing you to inhale the smoke before he removed it from your lips.

You felt yourself relax a bit but that still didn’t necessarily help with the nerves.

“As I said. You changed. You’ve always been a sweet guy that anyone could trust and depend on, but something changed when you started to deal heavier product.”

“I could always sense the danger around you. Your eyes barely glowed liked they used to. You were drifting far away. From yourself and from me. It scared me.”

“𝐒𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭?“

Your face scrunched up at his attitude. It was like he wasn’t listening to you on a serious note. “So Eren, I made the fucking decision to leave once I got pregnant.”

“𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫! 𝐓𝐡-𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞! -“ He bounced up visibly shaking and upset.

“- 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞!” Eren was now face to face with you yelling. You turned your face away from him unsure of what to say.

You were trying not to cry in front of him but the tears filled your water line. Of course you didn’t think it was fair and you probably would have never said anything until you found the courage, but that wasn’t going to change anything now.

Eren scoffed. Tossing the blunt in the ashtray, he grabbed his black jacket and threw it on. You still weren’t looking at him as your tears fell, but you glanced at him when you heard him load a clip in his pistol.

“𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” You heard him mutter. You turned to face him and say something but he had already slammed the bedroom door shut, leaving you alone.

-

Eren held the bloody shirt of the man he was holding as he repeatedly punched him in the face. Blood splattered all over him the more he hit him. He was barely unrecognizable. Eyes swollen shut and nose bent and broken.

His friend stood off to the side typing away on his phone for a second before he felt bored and ready to go home to his girl.

“Aye, come’on man. Let’s finish this shit and get the fuck up out of here.” His close friend and partner, Ony, spoke through all the chaos.

It was like Eren wasn’t there. His eyes no longer holding that gleam. Like he was drifting elsewhere.

Once Eren felt like he was done, he stood back and pulled out his gun, emptying the clip in the man’s body until all you could hear was the constant clicking of his empty pistol.

“Clean this shit up.” Ony told the clean up crew before he grabbed Eren and walked off.

“And you need to clean the fuck up too. Getting my car all dirty man.” He grumbled.

Eren hopped in the car and they drove off to a spot they shared when they needed to get away.

After Ony had dropped him off, he went and cleaned himself off and took a long and much needed shower.

He had alot on his mind, and most of it had to do with you. It made his blood boil even more at how selfish you could be.

He didn’t want to hear or understand your reasoning. All he knew was how he felt only. He wanted to believe he hadn’t changed, and deep down he knew he did, he just didn’t want you to be right.

Growling, Eren, changed his clothes before heading to his car and speeding home.

-

It was going on two in the morning and Eren still wasn’t back yet. You had been pacing back and forth, preparing yourself for the conversation you wanted to have with him.

The bedroom door opened and shut scaring you away from your thoughts. Eren strut into the dim room, going straight for the blunt he aggressively put out before he stormed off to God knows where.

“Eren you’re -“ Your words slowed to a stop once he looked at you. He looked empty and emotionless. Deadly to be exact.

You watched him for a moment. Contemplating on if now was the time to even say something. He seemed off and you weren’t sure if you would trigger him.

“𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘/𝐧? 𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲.” He spoke after hitting his wood.

“I don’t think right now is the right time ‘ren” you mumbled but you were sure he heard you.

“𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭.” He responded again. Now he seemed like he was annoyed with the back and forth. You took a deep breath. Squaring out your shoulders, and saying exactly what you’ve been thinking these past couple of hours.

“I don’t think we should be together.”

Silence ensued for a moment. Wrens face dropping to a blank one. You watched him work his way around the bed as he began taking off his clothes one by one until his was in nothing but his boxers.

“Eren?” You asked him amongst the silence.

As he was smoked, he started to laugh a little.

“𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲/𝐧.”

“It’s not me running away. It’s just what I think is best. We would still be a family, we just wouldn’t be together.” You spoke softly trying not to upset your ill tempered boyfriend.

“𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨.”

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you Eren.” This time your voice was more stern. More fierce.

This only made Eren chuckle.

“𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐘/𝐧, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨. 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝?” He asked. “Come here mama.”

You stood in place for a moment, but jumped in place once he said it again more aggressively. Slowly you made your way to his side of the bed standing a few feet away until he reached out and grabbed you. Pulling down to straddle him.

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧? 𝐇𝐦𝐦?” You don’t answer, you just wait for him to continue his game. “𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬.”

This made your eyes widen in shock. How could he possibly have known about that? That was something you were dealing with in silence and you weren’t even sure you were going to keep this one.

“How do-“

“𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚, 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞����𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨.” He says as his puts his blunt out.

“That’s shouldn’t include my personal matters.”

This seemed to trigger him. Eren snatched up your face is his big rough hand.

“𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐇𝐮𝐡?” He was squeezing so tightly, tears started to prick the comers of your eyes. “N-no - Ow! Eren that hurts!”

“𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚- “ Eren brings your face so close to his that your lips a barely touching. “- 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞. 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝?”

When you don’t answer, he squeezes a little harder making your yelp.

“𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝?” You nod, telling him you understand. Once Eren is satisfied, he tosses you on your side of the bed before getting on top of you.

He begins to peppers kisses all over your neck. Licking and sucking the places he knew your be putty in his hands.

His hands roaming down your legs as his mouth left various odd shaped hickies. Once his mouth landed on yours, he started with slow kisses, trying to pull you into the mood. A game of lust and he was winning.

Despite how you felt, you loved Eren. Even more so he knew how to get your riled up and ready for him. You slowly began to kiss him back as tears fell from the corners of your eyes. Even little whines left from you as you started crying.

Eren ignored your cries, continuing to kiss and suck on your skin. He slides off his boxers, his dick erect and ready to pound into your sopping cunt.

He grips the back of your knees, pushing your legs back until they were pressed tightly against you. He slid your panties to the side, his finger stroking your opening to gather your wetness.

“Eren wa-“

“𝐒𝐡𝐡.”

In one feel swoop he began pushing his length inside of you. It was a tight fit since you weren’t all the way ready yet.

He began thrusting softly to get you lubricated as much as he could before he began pounding into you with a vigorous need.

Each stroke of his cock, brushed the entrance of your cervix which had you trying to run away but he held you in place making you taking the beating he was giving.

“𝐍𝐮𝐡 𝐮𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮!” He groaned thrusting harder.

You placed your hands on his abs trying to push him off a little to ease the painful fullness of him but that barely worked.

“Hnnng! Ffuck ‘ren I can’t!!” You cried out. This only egged your deranged boyfriend even more. To him this was your punishment. He wanted you to feel him everywhere. “PLEASE BABY! I can’t!!”

You tried again. The forcefulness of your orgasm was building up and you felt like you’d break any moment.

“𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐲/𝐧!”

Your pussy was convulsing around him. Sucking him in deeper making him moan in your ear. You loved when he did. You loved knowing you could make him feel just as good as he made you.

He took pleasure in your cries and the way you gripped him as he forced your orgasm from you.

“Fuckkk Erreenn!”

All your juices flew out onto his dick and your shared bedsheets. You felt like you were on cloud 9. Your head spinning as you were lost in pleasure. “𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲!”

His thrust started to get sloppier and harder. Chasing his orgasm. Eren was too far gone. He leaned over you thrusting deeper and harder into you. Your please for him to slow down go unheard.

The scratched you left on his back only brought more pleasure to him. He reveled in it. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and both of your animalistic moans.

With one final dig, he paused. His seed shooting into your already occupied womb. Erens’ face was directly above yours. Both of you breathing heavy.

Sweat dripped from his head as he hovered. “Ere-“

“𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭. . .”

You whimpered at how distant he was acting. He still clearly hadn’t calmed down as much as you had. You tried to place a kiss on his lips, but he turned his face, quickly getting off of you, leaving your wincing as he did.

You watched as he threw on his clothes and headed straight for the door. Not even bothering to look back at you or give you any type of reassurance.

Once you heard the door slam shut, you cradled yourself, letting all the tears and emotions slip from you so effortlessly.

Wondering will both of you ever be the same.

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭!

Part 4 here

@slayy697 @444ctrl @mxddietherat @seaveysinn @shima707 @erenluv3rr

@akaashislovelywife @ebonydumbslut

[losing-it-lately]

Night Shift

wc: 0.8k

steve harrington x reader

angst, up for a pt 2 but i need motivation. inspired by night shift by lucy dacus

Shifts at Family Video are usually long and boring, but now they're long and desolate; workdays become shift long reminders that Steve doesn't want you, not as a girlfriend, not as a friend and definitely not as a shift partner. How were you so deluded that you created months worth of ‘signs’ that he ‘liked’ you, when he probably didn't even actually like you as a person. Dustin always jokes about how Robin ‘so easily turned him down’, but Robin and Steve are still friends, best friends in fact, yet Steve didn't want to give you that courtesy.

Hell, he's still amiable with Nancy Wheeler who ripped his heart to shreds, but you? No, he just has to ignore you and change all of his shifts to closing ones or the really early morning ones that you would never think of signing up to. How does he even know which shifts you would never take and why does Keith keep giving him them? It's sick how quickly your loneliness spirals into faux fury; you weren't mad at Steve, instead you were mad at yourself and how it all fell to shit so quickly.

It was a party, and you were a little bit tipsy, and he looked so beautiful. You didn't even know Steve would be here, originally just turning up to have a fun night with your girls, but here he was. His beautiful brown eyes were wide eyed in the darkness of the random basement of the house party, and he was wearing a soft burgundy sweater; must've been a new sweater, because you definitely would have noticed him wearing that in one of your shared shifts. It was tight and seemed soft to the touch, but even softer was his hair. The product in it looked shiny and even so much as a gentle nod from Steve was enough to tousle his hair. He was taking your breath away.

Steve was distracting, too distracting and his constant gaze at the back of your head was taking your mind off of other things, like how many shots you had had and how late it was.

You were getting tired, and Steve could tell. He had only come tonight to see you, and see you he did; all your laughter and unabashed joy from your proximity to your friends was electric, even if he wasn't a part of it. But now it was late and you were quieter, so he made his way to your friends and asked if it was ok for him to return you home. Steve’s kind and normally, a guy doing this would raise all kinds of red flags, but after your countless ramblings and short introductions of Steve to your group, they knew how much you trusted him, and how much you cared about him. So your designated driver became Steve, and as he led you back to his car, a new kind of confidence began collecting in the pit of your stomach.

He brought you to the front seat and buckled you in, despite the lack of any clear ‘drunkenness’. You were just a little bit tipsy and a little bit ready to do things that you would only dream of doing. You fiddled with Steve's radio as if you frequented his car and you told him how beautiful he looked after you muttered your address, and when he finally stopped the car in front of your place, you offered for him to come inside.

Steve exited the car and came all the way around to your door. He opened the car door and let the light from the street lights filter onto your face; it created a small halo around his hair, and you were mesmerised. You could feel the soft burgundy cashmere under your fingertips after you placed your hands on his shoulders, as if you were bracing yourself before he unbuckled the seat belt. And as Steve gently places the seatbelt back, you felt something change in between you; your eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, before one of you finally leaned in.

His lips were soft and they tasted like sobriety and the minty chapstick he prided himself on using. His sweater was warm underneath your fingers and Steve's chest was flush against yours as his hands rushed up and cradled your jaw. You kissed quick and strong and then he pulled away, “you're not sober.”

His eyes were suddenly filled with something harsh and hurt and hellish. “We can't do this. You don't want this,” his voice was quiet but his disapproval was loud. You felt exposed and awkward and stunted. What felt like paradise was brutally taken away so quickly. He escorted you to your doorstep in silence and then watched you return home with misery on your face.

Steve and you had kissed, and then you had stopped, and now, he wouldn't even see you.

[russellsppttemplates]

Would you be able to write a blurb with Charles or lando with reader going through it with postpartum? Feeling down and sore maybe recovering after a c section or like issues w breastfeeding. You always write them so well and I need more to tame my baby fever

Note: this can also be considered a sneak peek of a big piece request I have coming up 🤍 also, thank you for taking the time to leave the compliment, it truly makes my day ✨️

Cw: breastfeeding, c-section, post partum, scarring, low mood, self-doubt

"Love, can you fill this bottle again, please?", you asked Lando so you could drink water while you fed Fraser, "it's supposed to help with healing and milk production and health stuff", you gestured.

Chuckling at your words, Lando went to the kitchen to fill it and brought it back, straw ready for you to drink from.

"He's getting bigger, don't you think?", Lando said, sitting next to you on the sofa and kissing your naked shoulder, "you're doing such a good job, baby, I love you", he whispered.

"Just doing what needs to be done", you shrugged your shoulders. It had been a whole rollercoaster with Fraser and you were just grateful that you were home with your family, safe and sound. The rest, you were taking day by day.

"You've been amazing, beautiful. I don't know how to thank you for how much you do for him, for our family", he said as he squeezed your arm reassuringly, "I know it can be hard to believe, but I'm telling the truth. Matilda kept telling her friends that mummy is her hero when I dropped her off", he smiled.

Having surgery, not being able to hold your baby straight away and all of the complications that arose stretched you to the furthest of your physical and emotional abilities, trying to make sure everything was right and doing well, but it was exhausting you.

After feeding and burping Fraser, he was also put in the tiny bedside cot, making you take advantage of the fact that you were up to get your nightitme routine down. After your shower, you rubbed moisturiser on the skin, grabbing the ointment to put on your scar. You wouldn't trade it for the world, your baby boy was brought earthside from there, but the pain and sensitivity were still heightened despite the medications you were taking.

"Baby, is everything alright in there?", Lando said as he opened the door slightly, not missing your rushed movements to pull your nightgown down, "yes, just need to brush my teeth", you attempted a smile.

"I want to take care of you tonight, if you'll allow me", Lando said as he kissed the nape of your neck once you sat on the bed next to him.

"Lando, I don't- we can't-", you attempted, tears falling from your eyes the minute you felt his hands on the side of your boobs.

"Baby, Y/N, darling, I'm not doing anything you don't want to, but I'd like you to relax for a little bit", he encouraged, kissing away your tears, "I hate seeing you like this and I wish I could take this pain away from you", he muttered.

Taking a deep breath, you fiddled with the bracelet on your wrist before you seeked the comfort of his hand in yours, lacing your fingers as you traced his wedding band, "I've been feeling... a lot of things", you started softly, your husband not pressuring you to speak and accepting your touch, "I feel like we're out of the woods - finally - but then it still hurts and I can't do all the things I want and it sucks", you said as tears welled up again,

"Baby, that little boy loves you so much. You're his mummy, and it is because you're so attentive to him that you can't do him wrong. Matilda, who was the biggest daddy's girl I have ever met, doesn't even care about me anymore", he joked, "she's always like, 'yes,b but mummy did this and that and so on', and you know I can't argue with her because she's right! She's in awe of you and you're the best example for her", he kissed your forehead.

"I just feel like I'm slower than everyone else else and that I'm not coming back as quick, and I'm not on top of all of it already", you groaned, "he just learned to latch properly this week - and it's not his fault because he's so clever already -, and then I look at his handsome face and there's this rush of love", you shook your head, "it's so much, all at once".

"It's normal, gorgeous. And you're taking it like a champ, I'm so proud of you for that. I love you for that and so much more", he said earnestly, "you're the best mummy - me, Fraser and Matilda all agree", he smiled, pulling you to rest against his chest and rubbing your arm.

"Tilly's really said that?", you chuckled, "I think it was more like 'mummy was able to feed Fraser and help me with my homework at the same time. Why are you struggling so much?', but, you know, maybe I'm just reading too much into it, you know?", he shrugged his shoulders, happy to see you smile genuinely and calmly.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[mclalan]

Corp Zomphis, 2020s Design Speculation

I want to talk about Corp Memphis again— that corporate style of gangly, dead-eyed characters trapped in a neoliberal purgatory, posed between pot plants and spreadsheets.

I don't need to go too far into describing it. Heaven knows there are already so many takes on it that you're probably sick of hearing about it. However, I think a succinct description of it can be found at the end of that Wired magazine article from a few years back:

Wired: Corporate Memphis: The Tech Industry’s Favourite New Art Style

"But, despite all this, it may not be worth lamenting the immense reach of Corporate Memphis or the design possibilities we’ve been deprived of because of it. The style is, after all, simply a reflection of big tech, and how it has constructed a world with users on one side and executives on the other.

A more interesting and visually rich digital space would mean more than coming up with a new illustration style—it would require a change in how the tech economy is run. Until then, Corporate Memphis is likely to stick around, bendy arms and all."

This touches on why Corporate Memphis looks the way it does: it's a reflection of the material reality it's made in and the economic conditions it serves.

To work in a design job today often involves being a "multi-practitioner"— corp speak for a jack of all trades. You might have multiple platforms to manage, need to create a mix of media (motion graphics, branding, illustrations, etc.), and produce multiple pieces of content, all for some pointless product consumed by placated consumers.

And that’s all in a day's work, to be repeated the next. It's gruelling, unforgiving, mind-numbing work—especially if you take pride in what you do. Life doesn't become easier, but it does become bearable if the medium you're working in isn't fighting against you. A style that can work across platforms, can be easy enough for anyone in the department to use, but versatile enough to allow effort when there's time and money. It's homogeneous to the point where the messy, qualitative complications of art direction don't come into play. You can download a vector stock or make it in-house with relative ease and speed, and it looks good enough. The consumer, despite being fatigued by it all, seems to find it good enough. And that's what marks the style really: it's "good enough." It's a style linked to speed and practicality in the face of intense demand and pressure, low industry wages, accessible skills for entry levels, and high corporate barriers as everything's locked within Adobe's infrastructure.

But its strength as this homogeneous vector glob style, with its lack of any real individual identity, is also its biggest weakness. Although I'm sure some designers might enjoy working in this style, it's not really a style designed for creative individual expression. It's called "corporate" for a reason. If you want something different, you might be tempted to try freelancing...

Outside the corporate design department, you might think you're finally free to create in your own style, no longer having to work in that dreaded Corporate Memphis one anymore. But it’s hard enough to work in your own individual style under the best of circumstances. That's because the whole economy is based on the same structures of endless content production for algorithmically optimised consumption that allowed Corp Memphis to thrive, so you're still facing familiar obstacles—creating vast amounts of content, quickly, for wide and insatiable consumer audiences. So, in a way, we have this algorithm-enforced market of content, favouring those who have optimised their style to be better seen by it. It's no wonder Corporate Memphis has endured past its welcome.

However, despite all that, illustrators and artists still plod on. They end up making stuff, somehow navigating these systems— either playing them like a fiddle, outright rejecting them, or going accelerationist about it, like with something such as Corecore. Self-expression can take many forms, and that potential untapped capital value is tantalisingly mouthwatering to corporate capitalists.

Corp Memphis is optimised to a fault. It's too polished, too automated, and fits too well with the well-oiled design apparatus. Thus, it's developed a semiotics to reflect this—it's cheap and it's perceived as cheap. That's why an art director (typically) won’t just stick some Corp Memphis imagine on an album cover or use it to illustrate a particular lifestyle magazine. It wouldn't suit it, it's signalling the wrong stuff. Culture, art, ideas, aesthetics are reflected in work created by practitioners with an artistic vision, or that taps into what's going on in the present. And this is reflected in their art style, something Corp Memphis can't easily do, if at all.

That's why there's still a kind of fringe freelance industry with a speciality in design identity, otherwise known in the industry as "creatives", albeit small and closely gatekept by the likes of legacy institutions such as Goldsmiths and corporate industry leaders like The HudsonBec Group. If a corporation needs design to be spiced up with some kind of creative identity, it'll turn to these agencies or freelancers from this background rather than use Corp Memphis.

But the sad thing is how a corporation doesn't have total control over the process and thus can't control the value and pricing since they have to deal with hiring these pesky freelancers. But how does a corporation even know who to hire? With moodboards, of course! It’s easier to hire someone in-house with "good taste," who can simply curate hot practitioners to hire, like a dragon collecting .png gems. Although a corporation will try to get the best deal it can, these pesky freelancers can potentially negotiate a price for themselves, especially if they’re some big shot who holds a lot of cultural capital.

But another benefit of a moodboard is that it can be converted into a design guide. Simply share the sorts of designers and illustrators that a corporation dreams of hiring but with a cheaper designer, and ask if they can copy the desired style for less. Failing that, they can just outright steal the style anyway. If the creator is small enough, who cares?

But the value and cultural capital that corporations must seek outside their infrastructure, the very thing Corp Memphis cannot do, comes at the price of what Corp Memphis can do. Freelancers are annoying to corporations. They’re inconsistent, outside their remit, and expensive—since any level of lost capital is an expense. And worse of all, they don’t own them. Work made in-house in a corporation is completely theirs to be used forever, however they see fit. A freelance gig is limited to the contract, and typically you have to keep paying for different uses, or pay a lot if it’s expected to be used for something big.

How dare these skilled workers... sorry, freelancers, leverage themselves. If only we, the corporation, could control and treat the work of freelanced art direction like we do Corporate Memphis. Well, maybe we can—with AI.

AI is a whole can of worms of its own. But I will outline how AI shares a lot with Corp Memphis in terms of mechanics, but it's not "good enough" like Corp Memphis is in terms of its aesthetics.

Let's put it like this, if Corp Memphis is above a stock image, which is above clip art, which is above a farting Elsa asset-flip mobile game, then AI-generated images are below that, sharing the same disdainful semiotics of a YouTube thumbnail. AI renders are synonymous with trash, with viewers combing over images seeking out any sniff of AI to decry it. This is, of course, unfortunate for corporations, because AI is wonderfully cheap and efficient to produce. The problem with even "the best" AI is that it still reeks of AI, because it's trained on relatively limited data sets that are the wrong semiotics that corporations typically use and that their consumers are typically familiar with. It's not consistent with typical standards and trends. But even the AI art styles synonymous with AI are really that of unfortunate ArtStation artists whose work has been stolen, scraped, and trained into these models. But none of it is directed, follows trends, or should I say, reflects trends favoured by brands.

Design industry standard work is also bolstered by their industry standing. Their "credibility" sets them apart from, as Mark Zuckerberg puts it, the worthless creators and publishers who ‘overestimate their value’. Sure Zuckerberg might say design is worthless, but let's not forget that Facebook Alegria, the design language developed for Facebook by the mega studio Buck Design in 2017, pretty much started Corp Memphis! I don't know how much that would have cost Zuck, but given how huge Buck is, I don't know, close to $1 million if I had to speculate. So what Zuck is actually saying is you are worthless, without your titles and industry standing, and are ripe for the scrapping.

I still think it would appear crass to the wider public if someone as tactless as Zuck were to steal wholesale from something like It’s Nice That's list of featured artists, due to the "prestigious" tutelage and culture capital of such trendy practitioners. Good luck if you're on your own though.

There's also the issue of copyright. I've no idea how litigious David Rudnick is, maybe he wouldn't even mind, but perhaps it would be legally safer to just hire a copycat of him rather than train an AI on his work. There's no shortage of copycats of him after all, and they'd probably do a better job than AI anyway.

No, a corporation if it wants to avoid all this mess will instead use AI this way:

Step One: Moodboardism

Directed by their little Pinterest moodboards and Instagram saves, a corporation will find the next latest and strongest trend that they want to utilise, be it Y2K or whatever's current on the human ant colony-as-algorithm site, Carri Institute's aesthetics.

Step Two: The Sellout

Hire an on trend freelancer with a large sack of money marked with a dollar sign to do a year's worth of graphic content in a particular on trend style. This is all then fed into their in-house AI database model.

Step Three: Rise and Grind

It's then handed over to the in-house sweatshop graphic designers as the latest toolset that they have to use. They're now tasked with grinding out prompts in this trendy style with the consistency, efficiency, and speed once only achievable with Corp Memphis.

So congratulations, now we have AI that isn't generic Facebook shrimp Jesus trash; it'll be its own unique trash. And sure, perhaps some AI artefacts might come through, but that's what the in-house graphic designers are for— to Photoshop those fingers. The corp no longer needs to put up with some meddlesome expensive freelance art director, as the AI model is consistent enough that someone in-house can direct it, just like Corporate Memphis. And even then, if it still comes across as AI-ish, the hope is that for the general public, it's "good enough", just like Corp... You get the idea.

And this is possible because a freelancers' perceived autonomous strength as corporate mercenaries is also their biggest weakness. They think they can dance with the devil and win, making essentially veneers for capitalists, never once thinking the corporations will one day come to extract capital from them too. Corporate Memphis is never going to die; it's going to mutate into a corporate zombie... Corp Zomphis?

Why bother hiring individual skilled freelancers to do a job in a specific style when you have a year's worth of art, seeded by one of them, to prompt out your own "unique" designs in their style. It's more efficient and cheaper to approach design as a egragore hungry for its next feed, rather than pay for a single illustration. But you'll just have to trust me when I say that I'm not making this up; annual hires to train their own ai is genuinely what big corporation are doing.

But what about the industry, are they just gonna let it happen? I don't know. But I think freelancers don't typically see themselves as a working class, but instead as individualistic, competitive even, little businesses. This is why I think corps will be able to steamroll over freelance designers and illustrators with AI driven Corp Zomphis, because there's no solidarity amongst designers and illustrators, unlike US animators with their union and perception of themsleves as workers. If one freelancer rejects that devil deal to make the annual quantity of prompt feed for a corp, then the next hire will. I remember even hearing the AoI stressing how it wasn't a union, as if union was a dirty word. Instead its existence is to help one interface with their corporate client overlord. Well, soon enough that interfacing will be about betraying your industry freelance brethren to a corporate egragore, basically turning everything into a potential Corporate Memphis reskin. If Corporate Memphis is the design logic of the economy of the 2010s, then I wouldn't be surprised to see people nostalgic for it in the future, if the speculative 2020s model I've described turns out to be true.

[itoshi-s]

anon requested: rin + "why do you keep marking me up? it's hard to mask and people are staring..." // no lukewarm love v-day event !

wk: 1.5k. cw: mildly suggestive, fem coded reader, mention of bruises/hickeys, fluff. rin wears a panda headband i want to eat him whole

standing in front of your full-width bathroom mirror at 6:43 am, eyes still bleary with sleep and hair sticking out in odd directions, you think you just might actually hate your boyfriend.

you know he doesn't exactly mean to do it - but all sense of rationality is long forgotten when the bright violet, reddish bruises are the first thing you notice in your reflection.

with a sigh, you put your fluffy headband on, keeping every hair out of your face, then start applying makeup. you'll have to be quick with it this time, too - you have hit snooze once or twice, and you certainly don't want to be late, yet still have something else than your face to spend time on camouflaging.

the soft playlist you've put on helps calm some of the annoyance that bubbles in your chest as you hum along under your breath, curling your lashes and applying a final coat of mascara. you put on your lip gloss, smacking your lips as you stare at your reflection, and as the initial bleariness of waking up dies down, you actually feel more amused than irritated upon the sight of hickeys littered down your neck.

rin's a possessive lover. he wants - needs - to feel every inch of your skin under his large, roaming hands. he grabs and kneads the flesh, holds it in a tight grip when he manhandles you however he seems fit. when in the moment, rin doesn't pay any mind whether it leaves marks - in fact, there are times when he wants it more than anything, like when you get home from a party looking just a tad too pretty and the green eyed monster creeps up on him. just want to mark up what's mine, the teal-eyed would mumble, laying on his tummy as he glares at you childishly.

you adore his passionate nature - feel on top of the world and like the most beautiful thing to exist when he gives you that look, overcome with love and desire.

but, for the love of god, you appreciate your sleep and sanity just as much, you think as you dab on the third layer of thick concealer, stacked on top of color corrector that really fucking struggles to balance out the purple hues.

you check the time, realizing you've got to leave the house in half an hour now, and that rin's alarm should go off in a minute or two.

as if on cue, there's a pair of footsteps approaching the bathroom door, then they're pushed open to reveal your boyfriend in all his sleepy glory.

shirtless and rubbing at his eyes, rin yawns as he makes his way over to your side of the bathroom counter. he circles an arm around your waist, broad chest feeling warm against your fluffy robe, and he sighs as his head drops to your shoulder.

"hi," rin mumbles, voice hoarse and gravelly with sleep as his lips move against the bare skin on your neck. he kisses a birthmark there and gives your waist a squeeze, turquoise gaze meeting your reflection in the mirror with an appreciative hum. "y'look nice, baby." a pause, "no eyeliner today?"

you just give a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows twitching to furrow and lips almost curling into a smirk. he's so, so clueless - it's endearing, in a way, you think as you watch him slip away and stand by the second sink.

"mm. don't have time for it today." you say softly, stuffing your powder brush back into your makeup bag and zipping it close.

perhaps your voice sounds a bit too quiet, or the exhaustion is still prominent on your features despite the glowy products you so carefully put on, cause rin's eyes drift back to life and gleam with worry.

he turns the faucet on and fiddles with the temperature, giving your face an once-over in the mirror before turning to the sink again.

"oh." he nods, fingers reaching for the fluffy, panda-eared headband you took off barely a few seconds ago. pulling it on with ease, rin wants to say something more, but dismisses it and goes to wash his face instead.

the water, as nice as it feels on his face, doesn't wash off any of this funny, uneasy feeling. is something wrong? are you mad at him? do you feel bad and shouldn't go to work today? (he will make you call it off if that's the case. there's no way you're going in sick.)

there's many possibilities, and he won't be certain until he asks. dabbing his face off with a towel, rin clears his throat to speak before turning to you - but you beat him to it.

"rin," you begin, voice sounding so resigned it makes his brows knit together. "why do you keep marking me up?"

blinking not once, not twice, but perhaps a few times too many, he does look so clueless, so silly, you have to bite back a laugh. you're supposed to be annoyed with him - but how can you really, when he's just doing all that out of bottomless, unconditional love?

continuing, "it's hard to mask and people are staring..." you trail off, giving yourself a glance in the mirror, head tilting to show more of the poorly concealed marks, as if to prove your point.

you look back at rin, who now doesn't look as puzzled anymore. instead, there's a slight frown settled in his pretty features, long lashes still damp and stuck together, lips pulled into a tight line that almost resembles a pout.

the black, fluffy ears sticking out from messy green hair really sell the look, though.

"what do you mean?" rin argues, and you go to sigh, crossing your arms. "you cover these up?"

your eyes widen, snapping over to the striker's face again. for a second, you think you've misheard him - but in fact, he does look as serious as it gets. your heart jolts with shock, flabbergasted at how truly, utterly shameless he is.

"rin!" you gasp, finger pointing to the side of your neck in exasperation. "of course i do! i can't go around work like that," you insist, tugging the hem of your robe to the side.

the man scowls, eyes trained on the faint pinks and purples. "well i don't see anythin' wrong with it," he deadpans and your shoulders slump in defeat. rin turns to face the mirror again, reaching for his toothbrush.

"everyone else does," you whine, pulling at the tie around your waist and sliding the robe off. you go to hang it up, then reach for the clothes you've neatly folded and laid on the counter last night. "i... like the way they look. and feel." you start bashfully, eyes trained on the ground when you step into your dress pants and swiftly pull them up your legs.

rin smirks at that, just slightly before you can see it and smack it right off his face.

you're quiet for a second, and rin takes the time to trail his eyes down your body as he sticks the toothbrush in his mouth. well, to be fair, there are quite a few bruises littered all over, some darker than others. there's a bite mark-shaped one, too, right on the swell of your breast, which you go to cover with the skin tight long sleeve you put on next.

(he fears your reaction when you go to look into the mirror and see it peeking out the neckline.)

it might irk you, and make people uncomfortable or amused, even - but he loves the way they look on your skin, a sharp contract to the smooth, glowy canvas, momentarily stained with his love that runs oh, so feverishly through every single cell in his body.

isn't it only natural he wants to find an output for it and eventually mark what's his?

"but-" you continue, fixing the gold charm between your breasts, the small, zirconia-studded R glimmering under the bathroom lights. "i'd appreciate it if you... kept it down." you mumble, looking up at rin again and your gaze meets his in the mirror.

rin rolls his eyes dramatically, lips quirking up into a ghost of a smile as he brushes his teeth. perhaps, he can try and opt for more... hidden places. it's not ideal - the need to showcase his claim on you still as strong as ever - but not everyone can pay so little mind to what others think of him like he does. certainly, you can't. not with your line of work, either.

he knows, and that's why it almost feels funny when his heart thumps in his chest with refusal. maybe he is a little immature, in a way - but maybe, it's not such a bad thing at all. not when it's your love that makes him feel like a kid, carefree and playful again.

"fine." rin grumbles, words muffled around the brush as he works it on the back of his teeth, sending you an amused look that has your tummy doing flips. "will hav'ta find other ways to mark my territory, though."

[da-rulah]

A Personal Ritual - Cardinal Copia x gn! reader

This fic was inspired by the incomparably talented @delulluart. When she dropped the initial sketch into our discord server, I lost my mind, and wrote this for her. Now she's finished the final painting, we've decided to collaborate...

GO AND LOOK AT THIS GORGEOUS PAINTING HERE

(If you don't go and check out this painting you will find me standing above your bed at 3:00am wielding something shiny and sharp.)

Summary: After a wonderfully sinful night in your lover's embrace, you catch him in a moment of domestic bliss that has you falling in love all over again...

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Barely any, tooth rotting fluff, some worship elements, hints at previous smut, teasing and flirtation, nudity

These sheets are softer than your own. Perhaps they’re the reason you continue to spend the night here instead of in your own bed. It couldn’t have anything to do with the warm body that usually occupied it at all, could it?  

Except that warm body wasn’t next to you right now. It wasn’t beside you, on top of you, or under you. Even the warmth hadn’t lingered, the emptiness cool and uninviting as you stretched your hand across the mattress in search of your lover. Sleep had only just begun to evade you, and opening your eyes to a golden morning sun was simply not yet in the cards, so instead you patted the mattress over and over, yet to no avail. 

With a subtle sigh, you roused your head from the pillow, squinting as the light attacked your retinas. The sheets concealed the evidence of a night well spent; nude skin peppered with marks only a lover could make. Your muscles ached as you stretched yourself out, still reaching and hoping he may appear at your fingertips if you just wished hard enough.  

As you came around, you thought maybe that was exactly what had happened, spotting movement from the corner of your eye. The bathroom door was wide open, steam still pouring out of it like an atmospheric addition, special effects that just seemed to follow this dreamy man around. That movement you’d spotted had been him, stepping out of the shower and wrapping himself with a towel around his waist. Regrettably, you’d missed the best part, but even now you could see the way the muscles in his back flexed when he moved, the freckles over his shoulders that cascaded down his spine, the dip where the towel dug into the softness of his hips, tied a little too tight... 

His hair was getting longer, grey starting to speckle through the roots. He must have just towel dried it, the strands damp and wild in all manner of twists and curls but of course, they almost looked intentionally done. You shifted in the bed, laying your head on the pillow and snuggling back into the sheets at an angle that allowed you to watch him reach into the cabinet above the sink and gather products and tools to get himself ready for the day. As of yet, he hadn’t noticed you were awake let alone watching him, lost in his own little routine. 

He shut the cabinet, the mirrored glass of the door now lining up perfectly with his face, projecting an image of him back to you. A shadow was forming across his jawline; the same shadow that had left its mark on you the night before, grazing the sensitive skin across your body. Stubble looked good on him, you always thought, wondering what it would look like should he decide to grow it out like the rest of his moustache. But no, you liked this look; the face you’d fallen in love with to begin with, with its signature lonely moustache and carefully sculpted sideburns. 

He fiddled with something in front of him out of view, then lifted a brush to his face that he swiped in circles against his stubbled skin, painting it white with a creamy substance that from here smelled like citrus – but then, that could be any number of products he’d used in the shower too. He traced the circular pattern over his stubble, reaching it down his neck as he stretched and covering every inch of darkened skin. He lidded the product and stacked it on the edge of the sink, now reaching for a shiny little thing he’d already laid out.  

With an expert flick of his wrist, it unfolded, a glinting silver blade unsheathing itself from the brilliant red of the marbled handle. When he leaned forward, he stretched his neck with a lean to one side, lining the blade up against his skin and in one quick, clean motion he’d swiped a stripe up to the sharp edge of his jawline. The blade was wiped off on a cloth draped over the sink, then brought to do the same thing again next to the already created strip of clean, smooth skin.  

You'd never seen him do this before, but you were enraptured – privileged, even... It was you and you alone that had the honour bestowed upon them to watch the man you loved in his most humble and domestic of moments, to see the parts of him that nobody else in the world got to see just because they were usually saved for him, and him alone. While you’d spent many an intimate night in his bed, sharing your bodies and souls in every way a lover can, these were the moments that felt truly intimate.  

There was only ever one person in the world who would see him in moments like these and however simple or mundane these little tasks were, they were humanising and so normal. The man before you was anything but normal with the life he led, the talents he possessed and the future he had ahead of him but those were things he shared with everyone. Much like his rituals, these moments were also planned and served a purpose and yet they were personal to him, and him only – until you. It was the normal moments, these ‘personal rituals’ that made him so special to you, and you alone.  

The razor continued to scrape along his neck in clean swipes, glinting in the bathroom light and sounding with a familiar scrape and ring of the metal. With his neck smooth and clean, he moved onto his face, carefully guiding the razor’s swipes to give him the sharp, clean edges of his sideburns on either side if his face. You’d always wondered how he got them to such a sharp point like this, but it was clear now; especially knowing he used a straight razor to do so. He’d clearly had years of practise perfecting his signature looks, avoiding his moustache yet tidying it to two thinner, well-kept halves.  

As he worked, your eyes drifted over him as they often did at any given moment. But these quiet moments of intimacy were ones you spent time burning into your memory, the details kept safe and hidden for only you. In his reflection, you watched as the muscles and tendons in his neck stretched and flexed with each lean forward and swipe of his razor. The more you watched, the more your eyes committed the details of his shoulders and chest to memory; the freckles, the dark hair that settled over his chest and barely concealed his tattoo, then tapered off into a trail to disappear beneath the low hanging towel. His stomach looked soft and warm where he kept leaning against the edge of the sink, the porcelain digging into the flesh just as his towel did his hips.  

There wasn’t a single thing you didn’t adore about him. There wasn’t a single thing you would change. All of it you would sync into your memories in a collection of things you never wanted to forget the sight of.  

Now clean of the shaving cream from his face, he took the washcloth he’d been using as a wipe rag and ran it under the faucets, cleaning away the excess he’d missed between swipes of his blade. Once clean, he ran the cloth over his freshly smooth face, a satisfying hum rumbling from his chest at the warm sensation of soft cotton on polished skin.  

Part of his routine included a moisturiser, dabbing it onto his forehead, cheeks, chin and one on the nose with a tiny little “heh” sound that encouraged a lazy little smile on your lips. He rubbed it in gently, similar circular motions to before with the shaving cream.  

He reached for a little blue glass bottle, pouring a liquid onto his fingertips and lathering them up before patting them against the freshly shaved skin of his neck. A hiss pushed itself from between his teeth, his nose wrinkling as he patted the liquid into the skin quickly, like the speed would help the sting of cologne on recently opened pores.  

“Ah, shit,” he muttered to himself, endearingly silly and something else you loved so dearly about him. You didn’t hold back the small giggle that bubbled in your throat but unfortunately now, that meant you had his attention. You were no longer peacefully watching your lover from afar, your show interrupted. 

His head moved only slightly, but his eyes somehow found you in the reflection of the mirrored cabinet door. They were wide at first, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t or had forgotten in his routine that you were present at all. But they soon softened, seeing you draped in his sheets, still breathtakingly beautiful in your sleepy state. His lips curled into a fond smile, and he wiped his hands on the towel around his hips while he quickly tidied away the products and tools, every so often checking back in the reflection that you hadn’t disappeared only to find you still watching him with hooded, lazy eyes.  

His own little sacred ritual complete, he wondered over to you, towel clinging to his hips for dear life until he stopped by the edge of the bed in front of you. You met him there on your knees, holding the sheets under your armpits with only the smallest and cheekiest amount of skin from your arms and collarbone displayed to him. He lifted a hand to trail his fingertips down your bare arm, lifting your hand in his and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of your palm.  

“You were watching, eh?” he asked, his accent deeper and thicker as the first he’d spoken aloud this morning.  

“Admiring,” you corrected him, holding the sheet against your chest with your free hand.  

“I see...” he mused, another kiss being planted to your hand. His eyes scanned the parts of your body he could see, marks from your long and impassioned night together still very visible on your skin. His eyes darkened at the sight, a need rising in him to always create more. He tugged you to his chest, using the pads of his fingertips to trace the bursts of colour across your neck and collarbone while he held you there, other hand still in yours.  

As if by instinct, you leaned your head to the side to accommodate him, stretching your neck like he had as he was shaving to elongate the space in which his fingers danced. He leaned in, pressing delicate kisses to each bruise and each mark he had left there. In contrast to his stubbly, rushed and feral kisses and bites from last night, you were met with the smoothest skin against yours and featherlight pecks as if trying to heal them. You weren’t sure which you preferred; both were divine. 

“You tempt me to stay like un succubo diabolico (a demonic succubus),” he whispers against your skin, goosebumps raising across every inch. How badly you wanted him to stay... You would take every second you could with him.  

“Is it working?” you asked with a playful lilt to your tone, yet the breathiness in your voice gave away your bubbling arousal. Lips continued to press against the marks, the tip of his nose dragging across the skin from one point to the next like he was drawing constellations from the bursts of colour he’d made last night.  

“Sí, sí,” he mumbled into your neck, “cediamo alla tentazione in questa cappella... (we give in to temptation in this chapel...)”  

He felt the chuckle that left your throat and broke away from you long enough to find your lips with his. The hand still holding yours squeezed against his chest and you forgot about the sheets precariously held up under your armpit when you wrapped your arm around his neck to deepen the kiss, fingers finding purchase in the damp curls on his head.  

He let go of your hand, instead, whipping the towel from his hips and gripping onto your waist, kneeling on the bed with you as you scooted back to the middle, never letting him go. He felt warm against you, his body pressing so deliciously to yours.  

“I don’t want to get you into trouble, Cardinal...” you teased, brushing your nose with his.  

“Amore, you have been doing so since the day I let you into my bed,” he grinned devilishly, bringing his lips back to yours as he toppled the two of you over and back into his sheets. The two of you could think of your excuses later; for now, there was no denying the palpable need that the intimacy of his personal rituals had stirred. A man, with so much power to his name and weight to his shoulders, boiled down to a moment of banality reserved for only the one closest to him.  

Oh, how deep you had fallen for your Cardinal...  

Once again, please go and check out THIS ARTWORK that inspired this. @delulluart put an initial sketch of this into our discord server, and she triggered this brain dump. This is all on her.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Makeup💄/blurb/

AN: here's a little surprise blurb i've wrote. i hope you like this concept and enjoy reading. keep in mind the harry in this isn't our famous harry so any talks of his sexuality is fake for the story. it's also kinda short but still worth the read. xoxo

This stories contains: talks of breaking gender norms, talks of fluid sexuality, fluff

{ boyfriendrry - soft!harry - any harry era of your choice - au harry }

word count- 791

As Harry watches you do your makeup for a night out, he finally shares his desire to wear makeup too when you gently coax it out of him.

You were sitting at your vanity doing your makeup while your boyfriend Harry sat on the edge of the bed watching you. You were going out to a local club tonight and wanted to dress sexy for the occasion.

When you began to apply some silver glitter over the tops of your pink eyelids, you notice Harry shifting closer to you, as if he's really studying how you apply your products. You've noticed a few times now that when you're doing your makeup around Harry, he always watches you closely and you find it quite adorable.

But this time, as you glance to the side and look at your boyfriend, he seems nervous. Fiddling with his ringed fingers and moving his mouth like he's wanting to say something but can't find the words.

"Is something wrong, H?" you question carefully.

Harry hesitates before stuttering, "Um, it's just, um. Nevermind actually."

You stop doing your makeup completely so he has your undivided attention and take a wild guess as to what he's wanting to say, or more so, ask. "Harry, by any chance did you want me to put some makeup on you? Because if you did want to wear some, that's fine."

Relief washes over him when you guess correctly. For a while now Harry's had this want to try out and wear some makeup. Not everyday or just anywhere. But to the club or a party, he would fancy a little color and sparkle to his face. He's just been afraid to ask because he was scared you'd judge him.

Nodding his head, Harry replies, "Yes please."

His answer has a soft smile take over your face. You stand up from your vanity chair and walk over until you're stood in front of Harry's legs. "Baby, why didn't you tell me you wanted to wear some makeup? I wouldn't have cared. I think you'd look fantastic with a bit of shimmer on your eyes and rouge on your cheeks."

Looking up, Harry answers sadly, "It's just, I thought you'd judge me. I know anyone can wear makeup and it's not just for girls but, I didn't know if you thought that way. I only fancy wearin' some when we go out on the towns. Not everyday or anythin'."

"That's fine, Harry," you began, "I'd never judge you for wanting to wear makeup sometimes. And you're right, makeup is not just for the girls and the gays. Anyone can wear makeup if they want, okay."

Giggling, Harry says back, "Okay, but I am a little gay aren't I...."

You can't help but giggle back at his words. What he means is that his sexuality is fluid and he told you early on in your relationship that he wasn't straight. Harry was equally as nervous to disclose his sexaulity to you as he was minutes ago, admitting he would like to wear some makeup. But you knew him wanting to wear makeup had nothing to do with his sexuality. Unlike what stereotypes have you believe.

"Alright, go sit on my vanity chair and pick out what color of eyeshadow you want to wear. And pick out a glitter if you want a touch of that as well." Harry listens to your instructions and picks out the colors and shimmers he'd enjoy wearing tonight.

He chose a bright blue for his lids because he said it would pair well with his outfit. Then requested just a small dusting of your silver glitter to complement the blue shadow. You stood in front of Harry and he relaxed as you took your brushes and did your magic.

To pull this look together, you add a little mascara and some coal liner in his waterline. Then apply a clear lip gloss over his perfectly shaped lips. Harry struggled a bit when you applied the mascara, saying it felt like you were poking his eye out. And when you were finished, he kept blinking, not quit use to having eye makeup on.

"Okay, all done." you announce with a clap. "Did you want anything on your face like foundation or concealer or just this for now?"

Harry studies his face in the mirror ahead and decides, "This is all f'now. Wow, do I look stunnin'. Thank you, m'love. And thank you for not judgin' me."

Looking down at his face slightly, you reply, "Of course, H. I'd never judge you. You can wear all the makeup you want. Or if you ever fancy wearing a dress or heels, I'd never judge you for that either."

Smiling, Harry responds, "Only time I've ever had the desire to wear a dress and heels is maybe for a Halloween costume. But if that changes, I'll let you know."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[cherrysha]

To Be Alone

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

A/N: Getting this tf outta my drafts,,, banishment style. if its formatted wrong its because im tipsy and im too lazy to fix it,,, itll get fixed in the morning <3

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Paranoia, weed, dubcon (since reader is under the influence), slight body horror

It’s already dark outside when you get to Yuuji’s apartment. Streetlights glimmer with a low electric buzz as you make your way up the concrete stairs. Its unseasonably cold outside, autumn air chilling through the light jacket you found haphazardly stuffed in the back of your car. He’s still blowing your phone up, probably ‘where are you??’ messages like he hasn’t been texting you that for the past fifteen minutes. Like he doesn’t know how far your work is from his apartment. You'd been friends long enough now to know when to answer his texts and when to ignore the incessant buzzing of your phone. “Jesus” you mutter as his ringtone plays. It’s been years but he’s always like this. A little too eager, like a child. Hitting mute, you finally round the corner and knock on his door. Yuuji could be so impatient sometimes.  It only takes one rap against the metal before you can hear the bolts turning, your friend’s cottony pink hair greeting you, eyes scrunched in a bright smile. You can't be mad, not when the smile that covers his face is so genuine.

“You're insane” you huff out at him, stepping into the threshold and shimmying out of your coat in the process. His apartment is always so warm, a little too warm, but his older brother blew a gasket any time Yuuji tried to turn down the heat for you.

 “Am not!” you giggle as he puts a hand to his chest, mock annoyance coloring his face “You just need to be quicker… making me wait and all.” You ignore him, haphazardly kicking out of your shoes before stepping deeper into the apartment.

“isn’t Junpei coming? We have to wait for him anyway.”

“He, uh, didn’t feel like coming out tonight” you can hear the disappointment in his voice at the statement and it’s contagious. Yuuji’s had a crush on the boy for almost an entire year, which is hard to believe given his short attention span and lack of romantic interest. With an audible ‘tsk’ you ruffle his hair, smiling at the little indignant look on his face that threatens to spill over at the touch. 

“There’s always next time, Yuuji” he nods, smile returning as he follows you into the living room. 

“Was thinkin’ we could watch Cast Away, since you don’t like the scary stuff”. If Junpei were here, you know he’d make you watch a horror movie anyway. Probably send you off to his room during the really scary parts so you wouldn’t ruin the mood. The thought makes you smile, and you eagerly nod as you sink back into the sofa. Yuuji sits down next to you with a huff, fiddling with the remote until the movie starts in the background. He’s probably watched this one a dozen times. You know you’ve seen it with him too many times to count. Without much thought he turns it up before setting the remote back down and picking the blunt up off the coffee table. Thank God he figured out how to roll them up. The last thing you wanted was another thirty-minute session of trying to show him exactly how to do it himself. 

Tom Hanks’ boring little life plays out on the screen in front of you as Yuuji mumbles something about how you would’ve rolled it better, and not to judge his sloppy technique. He’s still learning and all. You don’t look his way to reply, only muttering “Free weed is free weed.” as you focus on the movie. He's never told you who his dealer is, and you’ve never outright asked. Whoever he was, he never seemed to be in short supply. All the dealers you’ve met at college were either professional frat boy scam artists, selling little baggies of trash weed to stupid rich boys, or untrustworthy as hell. The type to sell you laced product and not even bat an eye. Good dealers were hard to find. It wasn't surprising Yuuji hadn’t told you, and it didn’t matter since he rarely liked to smoke alone. Yuuji leans back into the couch as he lazily hands the blunt to you, coughing a little at the end of his exhale. You don’t think about it as you take it from his hand. 

Friday nights at Yuuji’s feels like routine at this point. Leave work, smoke a blunt or two on his couch as he monologues about the random movie he’s put on, sober up and go home to your empty apartment and sleep in until Yuuji blows your phone up again. Sometimes Junpei or Nobara join in too, but most of the time it’s just you and him. Like it’s always been. 

Time feels like syrup as you listen to him ramble, voice a breathy sigh as he tells you behind the scenes facts about the movie. How Wilson actually had his own lines in the script, how none of the sound was useable and had to be added in during post production. A treasure trove of useless facts that you happily indulge in listening to. It’s odd to think of him taking his time to learn such trivial things. The image of him blankly staring at the cast away wiki during lecture swirls in your mind, pulling a chuckle from your dry throat. He’d definitely do something like that. Probably wouldn’t care if he was caught either. 

“What’s so funny?” he mumbles, lazy smile almost infectious as you just nod your head at him, eyes averting back to the screen. 

Toms already stranded on the island, you think this is the part where he rips out an infected tooth, at least you hope it is. You didn’t want to be around to see that on the screen again.

“You want somethin’ to eat?” you mumble at him, pushing up from the couch.

  “Uh, can you get me a bottle of water?” you nod, with a small chuckle. His eyes are glazed over, half lidded as he watches the screen like he’s absorbing any information that’s being presented to him. In about five minutes he’d probably be asleep. 

You hear the scream from the kitchen as Tom finally pulls the tooth out with the blade of an ice skate. You were too squeamish to look at the screen the first time you watched it. Even now, the sound alone was enough to gross you out. 

Yuuji’s cupboards are always well stocked with garbage. Chips, candy, instant noodles, anything you wanted. You take another drag from the blunt, head fuzzing over with smoke as you stare at all the options. Sukuna kept most of his food separate, not that you had to worry much about accidentally eating it. The healthy stuff was all his. Mostly stuff that had to be prepared and cooked. You weren’t looking for that shit tonight. 

“You should probably eat something!” you call out to him. After a few seconds with no reply, you peek around the corner, unsurprised to see him snoring away loudly on the couch. Go figure.

He usually fell asleep later, during the first half of the second movie. When the blunt was at least half finished.  At least he left room for you on the couch this time.

Not thinking much about it, you grab a pack of cookies and two water bottles. One for you, and one for the bonehead if he decided to wake up any time soon. 

Yuuji had left another blunt unattended, letting it idly burn away in the ashtray while he snored unashamedly on the armrest. It wasn’t really a problem, if anything it meant more for you. Yuuji wouldn’t mind, if anything he’d probably be happy that it didn’t go to waste… He probably wouldn’t mind if you smoked the third one either…

~~~

Idly you sip the water, heart pumping faster than it should be, skin feeling clammier than normal. You didn’t feel normal. Nothing felt normal.

He’s been passed out for too long to be easily woken up by the time you start feeling it. ‘It’ being the ever-pressing creep of paranoia along the edges of your psyche. Tom Hanks is screaming as Wilson bobs away from the makeshift raft and you can't help but to think the neighbors hear. That they’re calling the cops for a wellness check as you sit there, unmoving. The ambient lights flickering in through the curtains no longer feels warm, but rather very, very insidious. What happens if you go to jail? Will you lose your scholarship? Do you even have a fucking scholarship? You shake your head to try and clear the thoughts away to no avail. Yuuji’s groaning in his sleep, drool pooling out of the side of his mouth and the sudden impending doom bubbles back to the forefront of your mind. What if he chokes on all that drool and dies and you go to jail because you weren’t keeping an eye on him? Is it possible to choke on your own spit? 

Your fears seem to be confirmed as the apartment door swings open, deafening compared to the low mumble of the tv and Yuuji’s deep snores. You can hear whoever it is close the door before walking down the hallway. What if it was the cops? Or even worse, someone here to rob Yuuji? Fuck, if that were the case, you'd have no qualms with them taking everything they wanted. It’s Yuuji’s fault he didn’t deadbolt the door.

You let go of the breath you'd been holding when Sukuna rounds the corner. Eyes flickering to his brother, then to you, then to the blunt burning away in the ashtray. 

You must look startled, wide eyes locked on him as adrenaline surges through your body. You must look a little suspicious too. 

“You good?” he asks, and you can't help but look away from his heavily tattooed face, eyes instead focusing on how his chest slowly moves under his plain white shirt with each breath. You blink, trying to mimic the natural motion, the steady in-and-out of his lungs filling up and exhaling air. 

“Yeah… yeah. I just thought you were someone else.”

“Who?” his voice is demanding, sharp. Its always been that way. Deep and rich and hard to ignore. The only time you’ve been able to hear him speak more than a few words is when he’s bitching Yuuji out over something.

Taking, what you think is a very short moment, you answer.

“The cops?” he’s sighing at the sheepishness in your voice. Obviously connecting the dots as he moves to snuff the lit blunt out in the ashtray.

You can't help it as you continue to talk, to give him more proof of your paranoia as you try to defend your own emotions to him. After too long, he stops you. Hand coming to rub his face in a movement that exposes his true irritation.

“I just wanted some peace and quiet” Sukuna groans. He takes a moment to stare at the ceiling. 

Silence hangs in the air like smoke as you try and find the words you need. Tell him that this is a mistake, a misunderstanding.

“I can go, if, if that’s what you wa-“ 

“Just shut the fuck up y/n.” he snaps, eyes finding yours just as tears threaten to spill. You don’t know why you were being so sensitive. Maybe it was because you’d never even met eye contact with the man, maybe it was because of your mental state, who was to tell. He groans again, moving closer and placing a hand on your head. Big arms encircle your waist as he hoists you up, free hand wiping at the tears sliding down your face as he walks down the hallway. 

He’s so warm, how have you not noticed before? It’s not like you had ever been this close to him to truly know. In fact, this is the closest you’d ever been to him, physically and emotionally. You’d never felt comfortable enough, even the other times he’d come home to find you and yuuji stoned out of your minds, he usually left you two to your own devices and acted as if you weren’t there.

Before you know it, he’s plopping you down on his bed, and even just being in the quiet dimly lit room with him is more comforting than it should be. After all, he was being kind, a side of him you rarely saw.

“Still in your work clothes” he mumbles to himself, that layer of irritable disappointment still threading through his words as he curses again. Whispering something about kicking Yuuji’s ass before his big frame disappears out of the room. It hits you then just how focused he is on your well being. He’d focused in on something you thought was a non-issue, fixated on your comfort even if you weren’t.

You can hear him, doors creaking open and rummaging noises distantly echoing from down the hall, but all you can focus on is how the ambient light in his room looks sinister now that you’re by yourself. It doesn’t take long before he’s back, tossing you a pair of Yuuji’s sweats and sitting a glass of water down on the bedside table. 

“Come out and let me know when you're changed.” he mumbles, but you already have a hand around his wrist. The touch softly begging him to stay and let you find comfort. Even if Sukuna is as comforting as a rock, it felt wrong being alone. You know it’s wrong, this is yuuji’s older brother, his older brother who’s rarely home, who’s done nothing but ensure your comfort, and yet, you can’t stop the well of feelings bubbling up in your chest at his casual decency. He stays, begrudgingly sighing as he sits down on the edge of his bed. You don’t expect him to give you any privacy, and he doesn’t, but you're too focused on keeping your cool to truly pay attention to the way his eyes roam over your exposed skin, eyebrow raising at the sight of you undoing your bra and tossing it into your pile of clothing. 

When you’re finished he asks if you're tired, quieter now, observing you as if he’s come to some new realization while watching you undress. You nod your head, hesitantly sitting on the edge of the bed. Hoping that maybe if you were lucky he wouldn’t make you sleep in yuuji’s room. The thought of being left alone with your own thoughts much scarier than the man in front of you. Even if he kicked you out, you’d probably find yourself on the couch next to yuuji, being kept awake by his incessant snoring. Even now you could faintly hear it, the sound reverberating through the hallway and into Sukuna's room.

Before you can think too much about it, however, hands find your hips, maneuvering you onto Sukuna’s chest as he lays down with you. Every inhale moves your body on his, deep breaths as he slides his palms up to the back of your head, lifting it so you have no choice but to stare into his eyes. 

“Feel any better?”. Vaguely, you think this is the nicest sukuna has ever been to you, even if he is forcefully tilting your head back. Usually, you only see him in passing, any words spoken on his part come out as a grunt and nothing more. Yuuji had told you that you were Sukuna’s favorite, whatever that meant. And when you had pressed Yuuji on that sentiment he had clammed up. Said Sukuna only let you stay the night, had only ever been himself around you. Of course you hadn’t known what he meant by that; Sukuna barely acknowledged you, never speaking to you unless he could do so in monosyllabic words or grunts. But tonight, he'd been nothing but kind, at least kind in his own right. 

You nod, breath hitching as he mutters out a “good girl” before kissing the crown of your head. There’s nothing further than that, and after a while his deep breaths even out. You feel like a cat, some sort of small animal that their owner has allowed to sleep on their chest. It’s all too docile. Slowly you find yourself drifting off as well.

Your rest ends up being shorter than you would’ve hoped because Its hot. Too fucking hot. Too hot to sleep, too hot to breathe. You need out. Slowly, you slip off the huge t shirt, uncaring of your bareness underneath. You need relief in some form. It takes a few tries before you can roll the sweatpants off of your hips. Maybe if you were sober you would’ve remembered that this was not the time nor the place to be laying yourself bare, but for right now, its hard to remember your propriety. In truth, you forgot about the fact that your were a guest in a grown man’s bed, In truth, you really didn’t stop to think about repercussions. By the time you’re done, you realize you have an audience. Sukuna’s eyes are staring down at you, fingers digging into the meat of your hips to still your movement.

“Sukuna I’m sorry-“ 

“You trying to start something?” 

“No, no I just got hot and- “

“You could’ve gotten the fuck off of me” it only takes a moment before tears threaten to spill at the harsh words, at the mean look on his face as he stares down at you. Its embarrassing, mortifying, that he’s right. Before you can make much progress on getting your body off of his a tight grip on your hips stills you as he readjusts, and places you squarely back on top of him again. 

“Such a crybaby” his hips rock up, hands pressing you down further as he moves languidly against you. “Feel that crybaby?” you nod, eyes still focused on his as he continues moving. He’s hard between your legs, every press of his hips squishing into that soft spot at the apex of your thighs, igniting a new type of heat inside of you.

“There’s no use trying to take advantage of me like that,” he grunts, still moving against you “coulda just asked. I’m more than happy to give you what you want.”

Its not like that, at least in your head it wasn’t. You had made too many bad choices tonight, and all of them had led you here. Straddling his wide hips, hands on his chest as you slowly grind back and forth on top of him, gasping at the delicious friction with every swivel. Its surprising he allows it, but Sukuna just calmly rests on his elbows, transfixed with the way the material of his sweatpants moves underneath you, how he can feel the heat radiating from your core like a furnace. 

Before long he sits up, hand wrapping around your hip to force you to still. He laughs at the whine that bubbles up from your throat, eyes searching your face as his free hand tangles in between you, pressing in between your bodies until he finds what he’s looking for. His thumb presses down softly at first, gentle and languid strokes over your clothed clit until your eyes flutter shut and you mouth drops open at the sensation. The syrupy feeling doesn’t last long, only a few minutes of his hips bucking up into yours, jostling you each time as his thumb traces careful circles, until he’s had enough and presses down on your clit harshly. His body shakes with laughter as you cry out in overstimulation.

 “such a glutton” his mouth finds your throat, lips closing over your pulse point as his eyes flutter shut  at the feel of your whines vibrating through the skin there. On a harsher thrust your nails accidentally scratch down the expanse of his muscular chest, ripping a growl from him in the process. Before you can apologize, he’s cursing again, hips moving against your own as he pulls and pushes you against him. Your best friend’s brother, beneath you, panting and groaning at the feeling of your nails in his chest. It doesn’t seem real, if anything it’s more believable that you passed out beside yuuji and ended up in a fucked up dream. Unfortunately for you the dull, bruising, ache of his hands on your hips solidifies this as reality, and unceremoniously you're dumped onto the bed, underneath him as he pants above you. 

His eyes look crazed, an inch away from terrifying, as he sloppily rips your underwear from you, ignoring the sound of the fabric protesting at such harsh treatment. It feels wrong, and that alone turns you on further. Sukuna’s chest rises and falls in his excitement, and two fingers push into you, gathering slick and messily smearing it over your pussy. His hand is still wet, glistening in the low light as it wraps around your knee, pushing both of them together and up. 

“Sukuna – “ 

 “who told you to speak?” he’s lining himself up, eyes focused as he slowly rolls his hips forward. You never even noticed his sweats came off, never wanted it to get this far, but before you can find your voice -

You expect to feel the harsh burn of him pressing inside of you, but it doesn’t come. instead, his cock is pushing through your thighs, glistening head squishing through sticky flesh as he starts to set a harsh pace. The underside brushes along your folds, gathering the slickness there with every pass as his pace only gets faster. 

“Fuck” he groans, hips twitching as he stills, trying to catch his breath at the sensation, at the fucked out expression on your face. He hasn’t even fucked you and yet you look an absolute wreck. You don’t feel much better either. Every slide of his hips forces more wetness from you, more noises from you. The feeling of his fingers digging into to crook of your knees keeps you firmly planted in the moment.

“All of this,” he sighs, finally picking up the pace after being a tease the entire night, “right under my nose this whole time.” the air is pushed out of your lungs as his cock finally rubs against your clit. 

The sound of his body slamming against your own fills the room. Sukuna leans down, and for a shocking moment you think he may actually kiss you, but his head goes even lower before you can feel his teeth biting against your neck. There’s no room to breathe with him like this, your hands curling into the red sheets, his mouth unabashedly leaving marks against your throat, its all too overwhelming. The sound of slapping echoes through the room. You’re left adrift in the sensation of Sukuna fucking your thighs so vigorously, the wet schlick of skin on skin, the sound of his panting breaths. Only a few more thrusts against your clit before you’re whining, thrashing against the bed, close to an orgasm that doesn’t come. 

“Did you really think I’d let you?” He breathlessly laughs “i’m not that kind sweetheart.”

Sukuna pulls back at the last second, hand on his cock as he jerks off in front of you, kneeing at your spread legs until you’re situated just the way he wants: legs spread, breathless, as he pumps his cock in front of your tits. 

“Such a pretty thing” he murmurs, “shame this is all goin’ to waste… maybe one day-“ the groan, and sudden release that bathes your chest, is startling. You’d never thought of yuuji’s brother in this way, moaning above you as he paints your chest white. But now the truth of it was jarring enough for you to see the truth for what it was. You had fucked your best friend’s brother. Had let him finish on your chest, even let him clean you up afterwards and croon sweet nothings into your ear during the process. You were even shameless enough to fall into a peaceful sleep next to him.

When you wake, the room still faintly smells of sex. Fear grips you as you hear something down the hall. Sukuna is long gone, something you’d expected before you even opened your eyes. You know he’s probably left the apartment already, that’s not what scares you. The sound reverberating down the hall is yuuji. Singing over some shitty pop anthem blaring through a speaker. How could you explain away fucking his brother?

[vimeddiart]

I DREW MY OC TOAST AAAAAA

The folks at XPPen sent me the XPPen Deco Pro (Gen 2):

XPPen is having its 18th anniversary, and is celebrating with sales and product promos, so it's worth checking those out.

My thoughts on the tablet (and purchase links) under the cut!

⭐ Review ⭐

First impressions: After unboxing the tablet, I thought it sleek and professional-looking, especially after setting it up with my PC.

The remote I LOVED right out of the box because I enjoy fiddling with buttons and wheels. The keys are super satisfying to press.

The pen and storage case are nicely complete, lots of spare nibs to switch out (though I mainly stuck to the default nib while drawing, the textured ones have a nice gritty feel similar to paper).

I had some troubleshooting when I started, as connecting to Bluetooth wasn't happening with either the tablet or the remote. I tested the Bluetooth connection with a different device and my phone successfully, but couldn't with my work PC. I was promptly helped by XPPen Support, and it turned out to be a Windows update messing things up, so I uninstalled it and Boom; I could connect both the tablet and remote, no problem. Up until then, I used both via cable, which was a convenient option!

The tablet: The XL model at 15 x 9 inches, with plenty of space to work (although you'll need space to put it, luckily I have a lot of desk to spare), and can connect via cable or Bluetooth. It also looks so dang pretty.

The tablet was so smooth, and the pressure (16k pressure levels) felt amazing to draw with. After fiddling around with the pen settings, I barely had to press down to get a nice flowy line.

I usually work on a screen tablet, so it took some getting used to returning to a pen tablet and looking at my PC screen again, but it came back to me quickly. It actually helped my posture, as I tend to shrimp-curl over my screen tablet while working.

As lovely as it was to work on, I feel this size may be too large for me, despite it being perfectly proportional to my PC screen. I like to draw quickly, and I noticed myself making more effort to travel over the surface of the tablet and tiring my arm out faster than usual. I needed to take more breaks and stretch often, although I could classify that as positive. That said, this tablet has a sloped resting area that helped. All my drawing tablets have been medium-sized, so I'm probably just conditioned to that surface area.

The battery lasted as long as it took to draw this piece and more! I didn't need to charge it the entire time.

The remote: I love this thing so much. It has ten shortcut keys and a wheel you can configure to your heart's desire. Five sets of key functions!!! That's fifty shortcuts!! I only configured four sets and struggle to memorise them, but it's very convenient. I have my keyboard right next to the tablet and would bang out shortcuts there, but this remote changed my life.

I've been using it for a month now, and it still hasn't needed charging!

The pen: Comfy to use, with a design I was already accustomed to, and one thing I noticed was that the nib wasn't scratching the heck out of the tablet. After all the drawing I did with it, not a single mark.

I LOVE popping the case open to retrieve or store the pen, and it's one of those physical things that I find satisfying and so rare with digital products. I thought it would be nice to have a pen stand too, but I have pet birds that will (and have) run away with my tablet pens, so a storage case is a strong solution.

Final thoughts: This is a solid tablet with the potential to become an essential tool for industry professionals and freelancers. I didn't think I could be convinced out of a screen tablet, but I was offered a super strong contender. I can confidently recommend it, plus my experience with support was a positive one that boosted my trust in the brand. Overall, I had a great time using this tablet and really appreciate the opportunity I've been given to try it out!

⭐ Purchase links ⭐

US Walmart Store

CA official store