#but that’s how you find the stuff that really speaks with you. you’ve gotta put your money where your mouth is and support indie creators

[dyketennant]

everyone’s always like “there’s no queer representation in media, i never get to see gay characters on screen so queerbait is all i have :(” and then i go to the “have you seen this queer film” blog and most of you have not heard of a single film out of their massive backlog of posts. so uh. start there

[comesatimecomesashadow]

delaware *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ carl grimes x gn reader

cw *ೃ༄ teen angst, mentions of canon-typical violence/death, reader has their first kiss, thats it

fic type *ೃ༄ one-shot || part ii to 'her' || part i

summary *ೃ༄ carl demands to speak to you after you avoid him too much for his liking.

note *ೃ༄ i dunno why this took me so long to write... i hate finals week..

masterlist *ೃ༄

  Avoiding Carl was not an easy feat — granted, it never had been. 

   The boy was everywhere. But you weren’t, at least not anymore. Wherever he turned up, you miraculously ceased to be. You weren’t there when he first woke up either and you didn’t make an effort to see him. You were scared. 

   Not of him, or of what he looked like, but of yourself and your own feelings that became prominent the day that he almost lost his life. You looked over his unconscious self many times and sat there in silence, gazing down at his bandaged face. 

   It pained you, how much you loved the boy that you had seen laying unconscious in front of you. 

.

.

.

   “Do you ever think about what could’ve been, if the walkers never y’know.. Existed?” Warm fingers held yours. They were the only warmth in the cold air that surrounded the both of you. The stars looked beautiful. 

   You kept your eyes focused on the vast skies. “I don’t.” 

   You could feel his eyes on you after you said that. His hand still held yours, though. 

   “How come?” 

   You closed your eyes and sat up, letting go of your hand. Carl mirrored your movements and sat up next to you. “There’s no use in thinking about things that’ll never happen. We can’t change the past.” Your words were right, he found them to be true too. So why is it that you could now hear his boyish chuckles next to you? Just what was so funny? 

   “What’re you laughing about?” You narrowed your eyes as you turned to look at him. His eyes were squinted as he laughed softly, not too loud since there could be walkers around the area. The smile that tugged on his lips was prominent. 

   “Nothing, it’s just..” His laughing ceased and all that remained was the faint hint of a smile. “I didn’t think I’d meet someone so much like me.” 

   “You meant t’tell me i’m just like you? Ew..” you joked, feigning disgust. 

   He rolled his eyes at your antics, “Oh shut up, y’know you love me.” He didn't think before he had said the words, but once he saw your bewildered expression, he stuttered out, “-as a friend uh- of course.. Uhm..” 

   You smiled tenderly before hiding it by looking back up at the sky. 

   “You’re right though.” He admitted. He was glad it was night, that way you couldn’t see the blush he definitely had on his face right about now. “There’s really no point thinking about the ‘what if’s’. We’ve gotta work with what we have.” 

   You nodded in agreement with his words. “Instead, I think about what could be.” he said. You lifted a brow at him. 

   “What could be?” 

   Before you could say anything more, the boy had placed a chaste kiss on your cheek — If you could even call it that. 

   Needless to say, the two of you weren’t stargazing anymore. 

.

.

.

   “Could you hand me more syringes? They’re in the storage closet in the back.” Denise asked. She was reorganizing all the medical supplies and since you’d only stopped in to get some more bandaids, you decided it couldn’t hurt to help her for a while. 

   “Sure, I’ll be back.” You put the box you were handling into the empty corner and walked to the storage closet. It was the biggest walk-in closet if you’d ever seen one. There were a bunch of boxes filled with medical stuff, though some of it was just everyday things. You guessed maybe that was why Denise was reorganizing. It was all mixed up. You walked into it and rummaged around the box that had the ‘needles’ label. 

   You had hoped it would’ve been easy to find them but nope, all that was there was bottles of antibiotics, pills and gauze among other things. “Just my luck..” 

   “Yeah.” 

   You swear you’ve never whipped your head around faster than when you heard the familiar voice. Your brows furrowed and you returned your attention to the box in front of you. Your heart seemed to stop for a moment and right there and then, you wished you could disappear. This moment was going to come sooner or later — unfortunately. “Do you need anything?” 

   “No, or well yeah, I-..” 

   “Then leave, I'm busy.” You stood straight after finding the small tupperware container filled to the brim with new syringes and walked past Carl. His face was a blur to you, though you weren’t trying to look at him at all so that was expected. You avoided it. But he didn’t avoid you. Before you could fully walk away, he grabbed you by the arm — not too harshly but just firm enough to keep you there. 

   “Meet me at the spot tonight, please.” He spoke in a hushed tone, as if it was a secret between the two of you. You could tell that he was desperate to just talk to you.

   So with a shaky sigh, you nodded and left to give the box to Denise. 

   ‘Just my luck.’ 

   As the sun began to go down, so too did your anxiety. If he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore over the fact that you quite literally avoided him, then you’d let it happen. But you had to let him know how much you cared for him before that happened, at least. You didn’t want to leave words unsaid between the two of you, even if it ruined everything. 

   The aged leaves underneath your boots crunched as you walked by. You needed to be quiet, it was night so the walkers were more attentive to sounds. You walked through the familiar trees, making sure to stay out of sight and blend in. That was, until a hand covered your mouth and pulled you away. You were about to bite into their palm before a low ‘shush’ was said. “There’s a walker over there, I’ll go handle it.” 

   Once he took his hand off your mouth to go handle the walker, you narrowed your eyes at him. He always seemed to want to dive into danger, it was something that you did too, but it scared you that he was just like you. Just look at where it had gotten him.. 

  Your eyes then shifted to him to the spot you once used to be at every day. It had been a while since you’d come back here, you didn’t want to run the risk of meeting Carl at the spot so you actively avoided it.. But now that you were back, it felt just like home. It was just like how you left it. The log that was always there was clean, the chest with all your art supplies had been left untouched save for a few drawings and comic books that weren’t there the last time you were here. 

   When he came back, you were sat against the log. A more peaceful expression upon your face now that some time had passed and you were prepared for whatever he had to say. “So.. What did you want to talk to me about?” you began. Carl wasn’t really social at the first few weeks he was in Alexandria, but now he was practically a natural. He had no problem with confrontation, unfortunately. 

   So you were in for it. 

   “Why are you avoiding me?” He took a seat next to you, just like he did when he first started hanging out at your spot. “I haven’t seen you since.. You know. And whenever I try to talk to you it’s like you hate me. I need to know what’s going on.. Is it something I did?” 

   You sighed and rubbed your temples, just because you were prepared did not mean it would save you from being bombarded with all these questions and feelings at once. ‘No, It isn’t something you did. Its just.. Agh I can’t explain it.” You avoided looking at him even now. 

   “Just say it, I’ll make it make sense t’me.” He urged. You chuckled at his words before sighing. 

   “It’s just-.. When you got shot, I.. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if you were going to live or ..” you trailed off. 

   “..Die.” Carl finished for you. “But then, why are you avoiding me now? I’m okay, you know that ri-” 

   “You didn’t let me finish.” You bit your lip anxiously. “When I saw you unconscious, Alive.. I realized that I.. hh..” you groaned. “I cared for you more than a friend should.” For once, Carl’s thoughts were at a stand-still. He knew what you were implying with that, but he was still surprised. 

   “Is that it? You’re avoiding me because you like me?”

   You finally lifted your gaze to him, “You make it sound stupid. But yeah.. I guess that’s what I’m doing..” 

   After a few moments of silence, Carl bursted out laughing. The blood rushed to your face and you smacked his shoulder playfully, “It isn’t funny, Carl!” 

   “No- It’s not that,” He calmed down, a small smile on his face. “I thought you were avoiding me cuz of.. Y’know, ..my eye.” 

   You lifted a brow at him. “Seriously? C’mon I thought you knew me better than that. That’s stupid.” 

   “Hey! We all have stuff we don’t like about ourselves… My eye just happens to be one of those things..” He spoke quietly now, you could tell his eye had been affecting him. 

   “You’re.. I’m sorry.” You hugged your knees to your chest now, the tension was gone and now it felt a little calmer. A little bit like before.

   “About what?” He turned to you, confused.

   “I wasn’t there when you woke up.. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own feelings that I didn’t consider that you might be going through stuff.” 

   “Oh, that’s not your fault.” 

   You shook your head, “Friends are supposed to be there for you, I wasn’t.” 

   He sighed and rested his head on your shoulder, you could feel the heat on your face. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.. You can be here for me now.” 

   A smile graced your features as you laid your head atop his. “If you don’t mind me asking.. How did it happen?” 

   “What, my eye?” 

   You nodded. 

   “Ron.” He answered plainly. At this, you lifted your head and gave him an incredulous look. 

   “Ron?! He shot you? Why??” Your brows furrowed together in confusion. You’d never been close to Ron but you knew stuff wasn’t cool between him and Carl, especially after what had happened to Ron’s dad. 

   “He lost his mom and brother when the horde broke in.. My dad, Michonne and I were helping them get across through the horde but they didn’t make it..  I guess he blamed my dad for it,” His head was still on your shoulder. “He aimed at my dad but Michonne stabbed him and that threw his aim off, which caused him to shoot my eye out.” 

   “Asshat,” you said under your breath, referring to Ron. “..It sucks that things turned out like this.., but I’m glad you’re alive.” You said, “Eye or no eye.” 

   He chuckled a little bit at what you said. “Yeah?” 

   “Yeah.” 

   A moment of comfortable silence settled between the two of you. The only sounds present were the ones of breathing and the crickets occasionally chirping while the cold air of the night swept through the two of you. The silence was eventually broken by Carl. 

   “So.. what are we then?” 

   “What do you mean?” You knew exactly what he meant. 

   “Are we a thing or..?” 

   You looked down at him. “Well that depends on you. You already know how I feel about you so..” 

   “We'll, I've been liking you,” He said nonchalantly. Not an ounce of shame within him. 

   “Yeah?” You glanced down at him. 

   “Yeah.” His words were soft, shy almost.

   “So, do you wanna be my boyfriend?” 

   He chuckled at your question, “Preferably, yeah….” 

   “Then...” You took his sheriff’s hat and put it on yourself. “I guessss I'll let you.” you teased. 

   “You guess?” He laughed at the way it looked on you. For the first time since he was out, you finally looked at his face. You saw the bandages over his left eye and you cupped his cheek, still feeling guilty for not being there to comfort him when he first got out of the infirmary. He leaned into your touch and smiled, his hand coming up to hold your wrist. “I love you, y’know.” he said. 

   “Love? Isn't it too early for that?” You questioned, feeling the heat rush to your face again. 

   “Nope.” 

   You had never, before now, been kissed by a guy. But the way that he captured your lips with his slightly chapped ones made you feel grateful that he was your first.

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

[iwaasfairy]

Hi, Fairy! Maybe your first blowjob with Sakura from Windbreaker?

this is awfully soft for my blog but for just this once I will provide you the fluffy smut you want bc it got awayyy from me :>> first impressions, I like haru

tw. blowjob, spit, neither are virgins but Haruka is having a first

“Okay, my turn.” You giggle, and roll over after putting your drink precariously close to the edge of the coffeetable. “Hmm… weirdest place you’ve gotten a blowjob?” Your head’s too close to his thigh, you’re not being subtle. Your toes basically curl without intent at even having this conversation with him. It’s the most overtly sexual you’ve been with him— and you’re alone. Blame a girl for being giddy. When it stays quiet for a few seconds, you get anxious though.

“What, you can ask me my favorite positions, but I can’t ask something personal back?” He’s still looking, and you swear you catch him staring at your lips when you look over.

“No…” His normally serious, predatory eyes flick away. “Never had that so, gotta pass.” Your lips smack, and he seems to tense at the sound.

“What’dyou mean? You’ve never…” You look up at him innocently, genuine curiosity making it’s way over your features. Haruka’s got a massive blush on his face all of a sudden, running from his nose to the tips of his ears as he stares resolutely at the corner of the room instead of you. He speaks much too loudly to be unbothered by the topic.

“It means what it fucking means. Stop staring at me, brat. You might’ve got around when you were young,” he bursts out -and you would take it personally if he didn’t look down at you like something to eat earlier- “but I wasn’t all that popular back home. I had a reputation of being a hardass, so no girls were jumping for the opportunity, alright?!” He’s loud enough that if your big brother was home, he’d come in to check in on you. Luckily then that he isn’t. Sakura’s all tense and balled fists, and it makes you quiet; then giggle when he finally takes those mismatched eyes away from the wall back down at your face.

Your giggles die down as soon as he starts getting up out of the couch, and you shoot into motion to wrap soft fingers around his wrist. “Haru~ kun, wait! You have to give me time to react first, seriously.” He’s so tense you can feel each muscle in his forearm flex when you slide your hand up just a little. After a bit of debating, with your big, soft eyes still aimed at him, he eventually sits back down. But pulls his arm away from you to cross them over his chest instead, with a ‘what?’ sort of expression.

You bite your lip. “Around the campfire the other night, you … Didn’t you tell the guys you weren’t a vir-”

Again that fucking blush, now also over his hands as he smacks it over your mouth— hot palm shutting you up as his eyebrows get so high on his forehead. When he realizes that this isn’t really the way to shut a lady up, he frowns, and his chest rises and falls a little too quickly. For such a tough guy- he really can’t handle teasing at all. “How did you know about that?! And- w-what about it, anyway?” He keeps your eyes with a searching expression for a bit longer. As if he’s trying to see if you’re mad. What’s there to be mad about? You’re both adults. When he doesn’t find any accusations in your irises, he lets go of you. Seriously, this guy.

“Was that a lie?” you ask.

You’ve known him for a while now. At least enough for you to get a slight little crush on your brother’s friend— and this is the first time since maybe high school that he got this flustered. Usually, you’re the one a flushed mess whenever he’s around. Tonight’s been different. Instead of backing down, he puffs his chest out a little, and looks back at you. You don’t want to let it go to your head, but when you ask it he lets his gaze trail all over your body where you’re resting, lingering on the way your shorts have ridden up between your thighs.

“No, it wasn’t a fucking lie. Some stuff happened back in highschool and I ended up getting plenty of experience.” Those pretty eyes keep yours, and he licks his bottom lip. “Believe me, I know what I’m doing on that front.” There it is. Under all of that thinly veiled temper— is the guy who makes your head spin when he’s around with his hopeless brashness. You’re smitten.

You sit up, instead shifting your legs under you as you run a hand through your hair and brush it away from your face instead, exposing the long stretch of neck that he also takes a slow journey down with his eyes. It’s as flattering as it is making your hairs stand on end, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. When you manage to calm your racing heart rate a little, you smile, eyes on the ground.

You breathe out. “But you’ve never had your,” now it’s your turn to struggle through the words, “your dick sucked?” The dent in the wall from where your big brother once threw a chair is endlessly interesting now. “Do you want to? I mean- not- I’m not asking for me to- just- in general.” You smooth your hands over your shorts to readjust them. Now would be a good time to get a drink, tingles trailing up and down your spine. “I mean- isn’t that a lot of pressure for whichever poor girl is the first?” You can’t bear to look at him, but you have a feeling Haruka’s smiling at the side of your face. You could shoot yourself. “Thirsty,” you squeak.

When you slide your legs off the couch with the intention to escape to safety for a bit, a warm palm now grabs onto your upper arm, winding around it with just enough pressure to keep you from going. You’re so rigid that when he gets closer and the air of his breath dusts over your ear, you squeak. “Where are you going? Gotta give me some time to react first, don’t you?” You barely manage to look back at him, but when you do you’re nose to nose. He trails fingertips around your ear before nudging your chin up with one finger. “Say, if I ask for it myself, would it still pressure you? If I show you how badly I want you to?”

Then after a second he tilts his head in thought. “Only you.” You can’t think straight, can only focus on the sliver of distance left between your lips. Holy fuck, your heart is beating so hard it makes you a bit shaky. Sakura’s lashes flutter as he whispers the next words against your lips— and all you can think about is how good he looks in the low light of the tv. His words are slow, as his fingers drag through your hair to hold you in place. “Can I ask? To put that pretty fucking mouth on my cock?”

Your entire body tingles, and you nod. “Yeah.” Your mouth meets his eagerly, but not as eager as Haruka is when shifting his body weight into you and almost knocking teeth when you kiss. His tongue’s sweet, a little bitter because of the drinks, as it pushes against yours and kisses and sucks the air out of you. His free hand wrapping around your waist drags you against him more, tilting your head back for his access by a soft pull on your hair. When you disconnect for a moment you breathe his name, and he sits back to pat his lap a few times.

“Come. Sit for me first.”

“You have no clue-” you pant as you get onto him, feeling those strong thighs flexing under your own, “how long I’ve wanted to.” His brows slant up at the admission, as you pull your shirt over your head. “Do this, that is. I’ve had a crush on you for like three years. I haven’t been constantly thinking of ways to trick you into having you fuck my mouth.” A soft chuckle shakes his chest when he follows your lead to take off his own shirt, tosses it somewhere. Then he kisses you again, and smiles.

“I wouldn’t be upset if you admitted you had.” As you roll your hips against him, you’re pleased to already feel his bulge pushing against you. He looks positively radiant looking up at you like he is, biting his bottom lip as his hands grip your tits through your bra and he can’t hold back a smile. You can’t help but kiss him again, and start making marks on the pretty skin below his jaw. Haruka groans. “I’ve wanted you too, by- agh- the way. So much longer than that. Not to say that I waited or nothin’… ” He admits after a few seconds of trailing kisses down his neck and collarbones, making your way down to the patch of white hairs from his navel down. His voice gets heavier when he bucks up into your doughy pussy, only separated by a few bits of fabric. “But I’ve wanted your lips wrapped around my cock since freshman year- fuck.”

You’re halfway down his body and pulling his sweats out of the way when you look up at him with big eyes, and a surprised giggle makes it’s way out of your open mouth. “Freshman year?! You’ve been wanting to fuck your friend’s little sister’s mouth since freshman year?” He’s quick to lift his ass and push the pants to his knees along with his underwear, and grabs his cock at the base as another blush makes it’s way over his face.

“Shut up- just… If you’re gonna do it, do it.” He’s all flushed and honestly, adorable as he glances between his own body and you where you’re now on your knees on the carpet. He watches you lick your lips and give him some time to squeeze out a drop of glossy pre, before running his free hand through his hair to get it out of his face. “No p-pressure, though. Anything you do will be more than enough for me.” It’s so genuine it almost makes you hold back on giving him your best.

Almost. “No way. If you’ve been waiting to fuck my mouth for that long…” You smile up at him, blink your long lashes, and then pat the puffy head against your hot lips a few times.

Your lips meet his swollen tip with a hum, before blowing a bubble of spit and pushing your tongue against him, wrapping it around the hot head. Your tongue squirms as you wet it with as much spit as you can, before putting your lips on him and slowly feeding more of his cock inside with a hum- batting your lashes up in time to watch how Haruka’s eyes widen and then he has to push them closed entirely. “O-oh fuck. Fuck; You’re-” Your tongue rubs over his slit to taste the slightly salty, musky pre and your hand moves down to squeeze his shaft, then gripping his hot, heavy balls. “A- ugh- hold on.”

“Holy fuck- ah- fucking shit.” His normally tense expression takes on a wonderful helplessness as you push your cheeks together and hollow them around him, suck slow first and then harder— and Haruka groans deeply. “So pretty. Oh shit, I’m close. I’m already close- slow down.”

He opens his eyes for a few seconds, only to close them again, placing his hand on top of your head to hold you back a little. Your tongue strokes the underside of his shaft, melting along the curve of one throbbing vein. “Fu—ck me, you’re- so fucking good at this, you’re so good. Ah, agh ah.” He pants, opens his eyes, strokes your crown a few times as his cock fills your mouth up and you pull back, leaking spit. “Taste good, does it?”

“Mhm.” It’s too messy and hot between his legs for you to stay entirely untouched, as you rub his spongey, pink head on the outside of your cheeks. One hand makes it’s way between your own legs to grind against your own palm, while the other winds just tight enough around the base of him to make his breathing hitch. “Haru~ y’taste so good. Feel nice in my mouth too.”

“I promise you-,” his leg twitches when you stroke slow motions on the slick length of him, “you feel even better.” You dip your face to instead take his balls into your mouth instead and suck, and the nervous twitch becomes a full on spasm that has him grabbing your head by the hair. “Oh-oh don’t do that. I’m- I wanna come in your mouth. Fuck, baby. What the fuck.” The pull aches, but watching him basically glare at you from under thick lashes makes your entire body glow. When he wraps his larger hand around yours to hold you still for a moment, you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face. “You can’t keep doing that, unless you want me to cum all over your face.”

“But I like tasting you so much.” You pout. Your hair sticks to your neck, and your tears make your lashes sticky. He looks at you like you’re a princess though. Your pussy clenches around nothing. “Stand up for me?” Haruka’s frown comes back at that, but he strokes comforting pets over your head as he thinks. He eventually grits his teeth when you let go of him entirely, escaping from his touch. It’s too hot, and really— you ache to be touched too. But it’s so nice to watch that blush spread on his neck. You get back a little and squeeze his thigh, and with a bit more urging he stands up out of the couch.

Thick, pretty cock right before your nose, he twitches before you. Your eyes find his when you smile. You stick your tongue out to drop some drool onto your fingers, and hold your hand out. Haruka’s face only blanks. “Want to fuck my face on your pace instead?”

“No.” It takes a few seconds to register the expression he’s wearing, but it isn’t one of annoyance. Instead he’s holding out his hand to pull you up— and you let him. “Bend over here. It’s my turn.”

[k1ttykatsu]

TEACHERS PET! - melanie martinez

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairings: Professor! bakugo x student blkfem!reader

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ summary: if i’m so special why am i secret?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: sir kink, oral(fem&male),unprotected sex, creampie, spit, classroom sex, voyeurism? degrading, praising, daddy kink, talks about breeding, slight age gap (readers like 20 while bkg is like 25-27), hair pulling, thigh kink, katsuki loves your little school uniform, panty stealing,cum play, corruption, yummy buldge, authority kink, pussy slapping, crying, face slapping.

⋆·˚ ༘ * ⋆·˚ ༘ * wc:3.2k

*ੈ✩‧₊ ೋ kay speaks: ello! kay here, trying out a new format for the new year! i haven’t seen a teacherbkg! in a while so why not (lol) just wanted to say this storyline is not realistic in the LEAST! don’t sleep with your professors please. enjoy!

“and that’s chemistry!” your professor blurts out as he finishes his lesson. the last class of the day! you thank god that the long boring lesson that  barely keeps you awake is over . the thin line between you and sleep was your super hot chemistry professor.

finally your body allows itself to drift off to sleep, only for it to be awakened by your teacher for what feels like seconds later. “miss y/l, you’ve been asleep for 20 minutes now, class is over” the professor speaks, head buried in a book as he bites on the eraser of his pencil.

glasses at the tip of his nose before he looks up to glare at you now. you instantly feel hot under this gaze causing you to carefully look around. “i’m sorry, didn’t realize” you coyly gather your stuff. as you're picking up your book bag from the floor you decide to be a cheeky little shit and bend down enough  to show off your lacy black underwear, that barely covers your ass.

“when you're finished i need to talk to you y/n” you hear your name and jump at it. the way it flows out of his lips, the way he subtly bites his lips after he says it, the way it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “yes sir” your voice feigning innocence as you make your way from the elevated back of the classroom.

tits bouncing from the way your partially unbuttoned blouse opens up and shows your cleavage. his eyes trained on the way your thighs jiggle from each step. you place your book back onto the floor right beside his desk. “yes?” your big doe eyes look the man deep in his soul, he.

“you’ve been sleeping a lot in class, is everything alright?” you think for a minute before answering. “no, my roommate keeps me up all night, her boyfriend is always over” you try to insinuate what you mean, putting emphasis on the words all night and boyfriend.

“mhm, really? tell me more?” fucking perv. but you indulge in it telling him they have sex about every night, the sounds, the smell all makes you wanna roll up into a ball and die!

“mhm, just sounds to me like your a little jealous” he rolls his chair back from his desk and he point out your hands balled up into little fist making him laugh.  “t’s not funny suki!” you whine before sitting on the man’s desk right between him and his desk.

he slides in so he’s closer to you andis sitting facing you. “i know baby” his words are coddling but you don’t want words anymore you want action. “no! i’ve been patient with you  and you're not giving me what i want, what you promised me suki!” your lips in a small pout. “i always gotta wait till you’re ready but what about me?”

he’s listening, he swears he is, you just make it so hard when you're sitting on his desk looking like the sexiest, most fuckable little thing alive. “i know, but i’ve been working sweetheart, you know that you're my special girl” his hands find their way to that pretty ass that’s perched up on his desk.

“you say that all the time but, if i’m so special, why am i secret?” he hears it in your voice, you're gonna break and not the way he wants you to break. you're crying because of him, how he treats you. he feels bad, he feels like the worst man on earth, treating a pretty thing like you that bad.

“i didn’t know you felt that way sweetheart, lemme make it up to you?” do you wanna comply or do you want to be bratty? “you’ve had too many chances katsuki, maybe it’s time for me to give aaron a chance.” you try to scoot off his desk quickly before you feel a cautious smack placed on your face. (not hard enough for it to be domestic)

“the hella gotten into you?” you roll your eyes hard before speaking up. “obviously not you” you hear your sassy tone as you speak. you watch his face scrunch up before seeming trying to calm himself down.

“are you seriously being bratty right now?” you try to scoot off the desk again while also failing again. his hands grip your thighs making a quiet moan fall from your lips. “by the way we have a quiz next week, you should study” you hate the way he completely changes the topic.

“if i pass this quiz will you give me yo’ babies?” you lean down and speak seductively into his ear. his semi hard cock jumps at the action making him pinch your thighs a little harder. “i’ll give them to you right now if you stop acting like a whiny bitch” you moan at the thought of his hot seed filling you up to the brim.

you moan out in agreement before you feel his hands get closer to your sticky wet cunt. “please sir?” you hear him chuckle and shake his head. “now that i’m giving the slut what she wants i’m sir?” you shake your head before pouting. “i always call you sir, even in class when your teaching”

of course he took notice of that, how could he not? everytime that word come out of your pretty little lips he wants to fuck you right on his desk.

“aaron asked me if i could call him sir, y'know” you see bakugo’s jaw clenching immediately. “you’ve been calling other boys sir y/n? knew you were a slut” he takes his hands off of you and grimaces at the sight of you.

“of course not, you're the only one for me” you plead as you take his cheeks between your hands squishing them to look at you all cross eyed, “never betray you, ever!” you emphasize as you scoot closer to him.

trying to push your core onto his stomach but he stops you. “needy” he flick your forehead with a smile on his lips. he loves when you reassure him that he’s the only one you’l ever touch, love and fuck.

“do you love me sir?” your big doe eyes focusing on his ruby red hues. “of course, the love of my life” he’s not lying, he does love you inside and out, the only girl who truly understands him. “i want you” you whine into his lips as you bring him closer and closer.

he places his lips onto yours and he tastes the sweet mango candy you were eating in his class. sweet as candy.

the kiss gets deeper as leans in more, you hear the sound of pencils and paper hitting the floor as you lean farther back into his desk. “wanna eat ya’” he moans into your mouth causing you to whimper loudly before disconnecting your lips from his.

you push yourself a little farther so he could have enough space to get down to business. he spreads your legs apart, eyes widened when he sees how wet you really are. “all for you” you practically moan out as the cold air hits your covered pussy.

he adjusts his chair so he’s sitting low enough for his mouth to reach your cunt, he pulls your panties down slowly, teasing you. once there down he pockets the lacy cloth quickly. spreading your fold’s watching your slick spread with it.

“such a pretty pussy” you clench around nothing as he prods around your cunt. puffy lips looking appetizing as he begins to rubs your clit slowly. your eyes shut slowly as he rubs your bean. little moans slip through your pretty plump lips.

“so sensitive” he taunts as he spreads you open. “mouth’ please ki” you moan as you spread your legs farther to tempt him to just put his mouth on you!

he listens and does what you ask, putting his lips on your cunt, placing little kisses making you grind your cunt into his face. as you're in the moment, eyes closed and slightly humming you feel a harsh slap being placed on your pussy.

a loud moan leaves your lips as your back arches, flushing your chest against his forehead. “gotta be quiet baby, don’t want anybody to hear us.”  you apologize quickly before you feel the man scoot his chair away from your leaking cunt and quickly move to lock the door.

once he comes back he dives into your pussy, pulling back to pucker his lips spit falling from them and landing on your pussy. “babe” you moan out as your leg hooks around his shoulder and your fingers find themselves laced into his hair.

you feel yourself getting closer and bakugo could tell that you're close too. you push his face further into your pussy as you arch your back. moans and whines flying out of your mouth when he harshly sucks and nibbles on your clit.

“ki! baby i’m gonna cum” he feels your nails digging into his scalp causing him to moan and whimper in your cunt. “love you so much” he mumbles sweet praises as he ravages you. that’s what brings you over the edge, your legs locked around his head as your hands grips his roots.

your thighs begins to shake while his assaults on your clit begin to slow down. “so good” you barely hear him as you suffocate him with your thighs. your high hits you like a mac truck, your moaning and whining into the air, all your self control is out the window as you cum on his tongue.

the feeling of him lapping up your sweetness sends you to overstimulation as you unhook your legs and push him back. once he faces you, the feral look on his face makes you smile. a big smirk on his face before he licks your cum off of his lips.

“so good,” he says before bringing you closer for a passionate kiss. you taste yourself on his lips making you grind back into the man causing him to holt your movements. “if you keep that up i’ll cum in my pants” you giggle before nodding at the man.

placing one more kiss before you push him back and stand up only to sink back down unto your knees. the man quirks and eyebrow at you watching your every move. he watches the way you bite your lip as your eyes settle on his growing bulge. the way your breathing hitches as your fingers prod around his clothed cock.

he watches as your pretty pink acrylics unbutton his pants with no trouble whatsoever. he shimmy’s his pants down to help you out a bit causing you to thank the man. but before he shimmy’s his underwear down you stop him.

your hand tightened around his restricted bulge causing him to whimper out. “shit” you laugh at the eagerness of the man. you place a kiss to his clothed cock causing him to twitch beneath those pretty lips of yours. his hips jerk up as u place another kiss onto him. “want you to face fuck me ki’” you plead with thoes big doe eyes of yours.

“you want me to fuck up that pretty throat of yours?” you nod your head intensely causing him to laugh. “unbutton that shirt pretty girl”  and you do what he says. unbuttoning your shirt while he frees his coco from the restricting underwear.

you examine his cock for what feels like the 50th time this month and it never fails to amaze you. the pretty pink tip oozing pre cum making your mouth water at the sight.

“want you to take the whole thing okay?” you nod and before you know it you see the man grab the base of his cock and bring it towards him. a glob of spit falls from his lips and landing right on his tip.

he jerks his cock a couple times before he grabs your ponytail and you know to open your mouth quickly. he shoves his cock between your lips making you gag instantly.

“love a good gag reflex” he mumbles as he guides your head up and down his thick shaft. he sees the bulge in your throat causing his hips to jerk up some more. tears flood your lash line from how deep he’s in your throat.

he picks your head up off him and you begin to cough. spit sputtering out of your mouth as you try to catch your breath. spit dribbles down your chest and lands on your tits. the shiny substance catches his eyes, making him take his fingers and glide it between the spit, covering his fingers in it before placing it in his mouth.

your eyes roll back at the scene before you making you want to get back to work. he gets the hint and your mouth is back on his cock. his moans and deep groans spurring you on as you let him use your mouth as a personal flashlight. your space out to the point where you're just focused on the cock deep in your throat.

smack!

a loud and harsh smack is placed on your cheek causing you to moan around him. the vibration from your moans causing his hips to stutter and before the both of you know it he’s cumming down your throat. “shit! fucking love you” his high takes over as you sit on your knees beneath the man, watching his reaction from the things that your mouth did to him.

he takes his semi hard cock out of your mouth and watches the trail of spit and cum it leaves on your face. “c’mere” he picks you up off your knees and places you to straddle his lap. the sight of you with cum and spit on your face and tits, hair a mess, and swollen lips makes his cock rock hard again.

“wanna fuck you, put a baby in my pretty pussy” his possessive side shows but he doesn’t care, he want you to walk around campus with his baby in your stomach. he doesn’t care if he’s risking his job, he just want you.

“want you to fill me up suki!” you moan in his ear while your bare cunt grinds against his cock. your slick lathering him up so he knows he doesn't have to prep you any more. you feel the strong man pick you up with one hand while he holds his cock in the other.

he teases his tip and traces it around your leaky cunt, relishing on how wet he’s made you. “that wet from sucking cock? your crazy” he laughs as he finally inserts himself into you. you moan in his ear as your body recoils into his. “don’t call me crazy” your voice is high pitched as you stretch yourself out on his cock.

“ki baby!” you screeched into his ear causing him to grip your ass once you finally sank down. “so tight” he whines into your neck, placing love bites into your neck. “i love you” you pick his head up and make him look you in the eyes. “love you more, then you’ll ever know”

you begin to bounce on your teachers, boyfriend's cock. your tight walls squeezing him just right as you take charge over him. “why am I a secret ki?” you whine out as you feel his hands gripping the fat of your thighs. “not a secret, everyone knows!” he huffs as you grind your hips down more.

you want to focus on his words so hard but you can’t, the way his cock hits your cervix repeatedly. “oh my god!” you pull on his blonde locs causing a whimper to slip through his lips. “shit! i’m close” bakugo decides to fuck up into to your heat, the curve of his cock hitting your inside perfectly.

“ki pleaseee!” you moan as you hide your face into his neck. sucking love bites onto his jugular causing his hips to hit deep inside of you. he needs to see your face when you cum so he takes it upon himself to pull your head back by your ponytail.

“wanna see you cum” his hands grab onto your tits pulling down your black lacy bra. “babe” your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel yourself clench around him. “you’ve gotta cum now” he demands as he fuck up into you harder.  “fuck you look so hot bouncing on my cock” you squeeze your eyes from the immense amount of pleasure you're feeling.

“i’m cumming!” you scream out into the empty classroom. your pussy clenches around him triggering his orgasm as well. he holds you down against his hips as he emptied himself into you. your body shakes as you cum around his dick.

“i love you” you cry into his neck, high off your orgasm and your emotions are running high. he instantly gets out his post- orgasm headspace and snaps back into reality. (oh! there goes gravity. sorry) 

“what happened, did i hurt you?” he pulls you out of his neck and grabs your face. tears flooding down your face as you look into his scarlet eyes. “i-” you hiccup, “i just love you and- and i don’t know” you can’t even get your head straight.

you're running high off emotions and don’t know exactly what you want to pinpoint. “i love you too, why are you crying?” he’s holding you like you're going to break and you feel like you are with the way he’s talking to you.

“if this is about you being a ‘secret’ your not, your not exactly subtle” you look at him confused as hell so he takes that as a queue to continue. “why do you think no one interrupts us when we have a little rendezvous y/n?”

now that you think about it no one ever question when you walk with bakugo to his car, sneak off into his classroom when you obviously don’t have that class. or even the two of you walking around campus together.

“what about principal nezu?” you think about the college's headmaster. “we agreed on some terms, you're graduating in a month so agreed that as long as i’m fair with grading and grade you based on your academic performance not your personal performance” you giggle at the end of his sentence.

he takes his thumb and wipes your tears and places a kiss on your forehead. “pretty girls don’t cry over stupid shit” he mumbles into your forehead making you smile. “okay let’s go home ki” he nods his head and scoots himself closer to his desk.

he holds the base of his cock as you slide yourself off of him. a whine slips out of his mouth making you giggle. you sit back onto his desk and watch him slip himself back into his boxers and then pull up his pants.

you look around for your panties and you can’t find them anywhere. “i have em’” you shake your head before sinking down onto your feet. bakugo picks up your bag before picking up his bag.

he grabs your hand and the two of you walk out of the classroom. as the two of you walk out of the school he whispers into your ear “you better hope your not wasting my cum”

[foli-vora]

run to you: chapter five

marcus pike x f!reader

A/N: life is hectic atm but i'm so glad to finally get this out! i swear i'm gonna get around to replying to all of your lovely comments on chapter four. i really appreciate your love and support for this story and i'm forever thanking you, even if i don't get around to replying as quick as i want! so not a lot of marcus and reader in this chapter, like... at all lmao, but the storyline is now picking up and we can fasten our seatbelts for the turbulent ride ahead. enjoy, angels! x

Summary: Following on from ‘Traitor’ and 'You’re Somebody Else’. An unexpected visitor throws you right back into the life you thought you left behind. Working beside the man that put you behind bars is one thing, pretending like you never loved him is another.

Word count: just over 4.5k

Warnings: angst, swearing, the bestest golden retriever himbo bff, talk of crime and undercover operations, mentions of heartache, mentions of jail/being incarcerated, talk of murder/bodies, smutty flashback (18+ only), Patrick Jane, super brief blink-and-you-miss-it Lisbon appearance (poor marcus bb is not doing good rn lmao SUFFER BITCH), and the usual warning: bitter saltiness that only one man brings to life in us

main masterlist | series masterlist

This story will have explicit sexual scenes in the future so 18+ only.

He’s hovering.

At first, it’s almost easy to ignore—you think he’s just watching you paint with a small sense of curiosity and would move away once boredom finds him, but you’ve never been one for people looming over your shoulder for an extended period of time, and so the irritation quickly starts to seep in.

The hand holding the paintbrush drops, and you look expectantly at him while knocking your headphones off of one ear, “Can I help you, agent?”

Jacob leans on the table next to you and tears into the homemade sub in his hands, chewing loudly as a small smearing of mayonnaise gathers at the corner of his lips.

He gives a nod, mumbling around the mouthful of food, “Just makin’ sure you eat.”

You blink in surprise, glancing at the window, “It’s lunchtime already?”

“A bit past,” Jacob replies, moving away now that he has your attention and sits himself on a chair at the table, “but I didn’t want to let you go late without eating. Gotta keep up your energy, Monet—don’t want you running yourself into the ground.”

“Thanks,” you murmur softly, organising your little workstation and rolling your aching shoulders.

The break is surprisingly welcome. You didn’t even realise how long you’d been lost in your work until you stopped, and now the throb in your fingers is all you can focus on. You clench and unclench your hand as you walk to your bag and ready some lunch, careful of the hot food you retrieve from the microwave.

Jacob doesn’t look at you as you seat yourself opposite him, too engrossed in studying the painting hanging on the easel.

“You’re good at this,” Jacob notes, eyeing the almost completed piece waiting to be taken wherever by Marcus’ team, “how’d you get into this stuff? Art school?”

Appetite now gone, you shift in your seat, suddenly far too interested in pushing the rice into small mountains in your glass dish.

Breathe.

He doesn’t know.

“I uh… I actually did it for a living.”

“Oh? Nice.”

There’s no malice in his tone, no mistrust, just pure interest.

He doesn’t glare at you, or pull a face of suspicion. It doesn’t even occur to him that it may have all been under the table and illegal. You feel a little guilty, almost as if you’d been leading him to believe you weren’t a previously convicted criminal. It makes you want to own it, to just speak your truth and let him make his own judgement of your actions.

Maybe it would be best to do so, so he would know where he stands and how he should view you. You’re not a good person, and maybe he deserves to know that. He does deserve to know that. 

“It was… it wasn’t legal. That’s how I got caught up in Marcus’ radar,” you admit quietly, briefly letting your eyes meet his and watching the flicker of surprise flash across his features before dropping your gaze again, afraid to watch his warmth and friendliness disappear. 

“Oh.” 

Nothing is said for a few minutes.

You swear you can feel the seconds trickling by, your nerves picking up and heightening with every silent tick. The small bit of the lunch you’d packed last night and eaten starts to churn uncomfortably in your stomach, swirling with your growing anxiety and threatening to bubble up your throat.

You can’t look at him.

“How’d you get caught?”

“It was a whole thing. Apparently the FBI had been after them—us—for a while… I knew it was big, I wasn’t stupid, but I guess I just tried to ignore the other side of it all. The money was good, and it felt nice. Marcus went undercover—guess they wanted someone on the inside, and I just happened to fall in the trap.”

And fall into the trap you did. You fell good. One look into those warm brown eyes and your walls had crumbled. You still don’t understand how it all happened. If only you could go back and scream at your more naive self, tell her to just walk away and never look back.

God, had you truly been that lonely? To open up so quickly, so easily, with a complete stranger? Would things have played out differently if you had just been stronger and ignored the obvious attraction and turned a cheek to his advances? Would he have just moved on to somebody else for the sake of the case?

It makes you angry, and you don’t have a clue as to why. Maybe it’s because somewhere deep within you, beneath the bitterness and the hurt, you wanted to believe he actually did want you, and not just use you as a means to finish the investigation. You wanted to believe that a part of it, even just a slither of it, was real.

Stupid.

Of course it wasn’t real. None of it was.

Jacob nods in understanding, “So that’s why you hate Pike?”

Hate?

Is that what you feel for him?

The angry side of you says yes. Yes, you hate him and everything he fucking stands for, and that you’d feel this way forever… but it doesn’t sit right, feel right. Maybe you don’t. Maybe hate isn’t what it is. Resentment? Disappointment, perhaps? 

“I don’t hate him,” you sigh quietly, giving up on lunch and pushing it away from you, “not… not really. I mean, I did. For months I wished all sorts of horrible shit to happen to him, but I… I don’t know. I guess I just accepted it for what it was after a while. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like him—at all—but I just want to forget it all happened and move on. I want my fresh start, you know? It’s hard seeing him, being around him again, after all the heartbreak.”

“Wait,” Jacob frowns, holding a hand out to stop you from speaking any more, “when you say you ‘fell into the trap’, does that… were you guys a thing? While he was undercover? Was it serious?”

“It was to me,” you admit with a murmur, “even had me picking out a damn wedding dress.”

The laugh that you force from your lips is strained and void of any true humour.

If anything, it’s an attempt to steer the direction of the conversation from diving any deeper into the overwhelming feelings you had for a man that had never existed. It’s humiliating to even think about. Maybe if you laugh about it, the sting of it all won’t hurt as much.

“Oh well,” you breathe, straightening in your seat and twisting your lips to resemble a faint smile, “it’s all in the past. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Jacob watches you play with your food with a look you can’t quite identify. You don’t want to risk looking at him too much, afraid that he’ll see the clear pain swirling in your eyes. The damage has probably already been done. He’s seen it all, and probably more. He’s a Federal Agent—their job relies on reading people on a daily basis. 

“Hey,” he mutters, giving you a small comforting smile when you eventually pull your gaze away from the table to look at him, “for what it's worth, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt. It must’ve been really tough, and I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

Your features twist into a frown, “Who said I was alone through it?”

He watches you knowingly for a moment, his brows raising ever so slightly as his small smile turns a little sadder, sympathetic. He’s right, and he knows it. You had been alone. It’d been the most alone you’d ever felt, and you’ll spend the rest of your life hoping to never feel that way again. 

Swallowing the growing lump in your throat, you give a small shrug and drop your fork with a quiet clatter, “I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t. Yeah, you’ve made some pretty shit decisions in the past—I’m not debating that, but I like to think of myself as a good judge of character. You’re not a bad person, not like the ones we’re used to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone. You watch him for a few minutes, eyes darting between his bright green ones and searching for anything that gives you a small feeling of doubt that his words are nothing but a lie.

You find nothing.

A true smile starts to grow along your lips and you dip your head, unable to keep meeting his genuine gaze without feeling the sting of tears in your eyes.

 “Thank you, Jacob. I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome, Kahlo.”

It’s quiet, and you feel like you can bear the sight of food again.

Your shoulders feel lighter, the ache in your chest has dissipated. It’s freeing. You hadn’t yet been able to speak on what had happened without someone focusing on the crime part.

The inmates you had bunked with, the counsellors in jail, the people hiring you once you got out… they all had that pre-judgement of you. The title of criminal followed you throughout every interaction, but not here, not with him.

You pick up your fork and start picking at your food, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. The slice of Jacob’s sudden huff cuts through the air, and he throws his almost eaten sub onto the table before crossing his arms in obvious irritation.

“God, what a fuckin’ dick.”

—

Heat—it’s everywhere.

It sticks to your skin, it swells in the pit of your stomach, it builds and builds over your flesh with every deep roll of his body over yours. It should be too much, too overwhelming, but your nails still dig into the soft skin of his back in a silent cry for more.

Just when you think he can’t possibly get any closer, he does. He pushes—crushes—you into the mattress, hands cradling the back of your head in an effort to keep you as close as possible. So close, so fucking close, you’re practically breathing in the other, with no room left for oxygen between you and it’s absolute bliss.

He’s breathless against the skin of your throat, nothing but soft whimpers and the hush of sharp exhales filling your ears. Lips press wherever they can reach, trailing paths of fire along your cheeks and the length of your neck until you squirm from the sensation, fighting both the urge to hide from his tender touch and stretch out for more. 

“A-Alex,” you breathe, face turning enough to trace the tip of your nose along the shell of his ear.

He exhales sharply, hips faltering ever so slightly. His face briefly falls away from breathing in your skin, dipping his head and hiding his features. Despite the unexpected jolt in his rhythm, he still moves, still rolls his hips in that way he’s fucking mastered, ensuring every upwards roll of his hips has that delicious bit of friction along your clit.

It’s maddening.

It’s perfection.

The ecstasy rolling through your body hits an all time high, and your thighs tighten around his hips, coaxing him to brush harder, push deeper into the wet heat of your pussy until you start to feel that sweet, sweet edge start to creep along the edge of your nerves.

More, more, more—

“Ale–”

He suddenly rears forward, moulding his lips to yours and stealing the very breath from your lungs. It’s always the same. The kiss is urgent, all teeth and tongue and it’s impossible to speak another word. You struggle to keep up with his intensity, too busy focusing on that overwhelming high and the tightening that threatens to give at any second now. 

It’s good—it’s so fucking good, you swear you’re going crazy. He does that to you. Though you can’t say it, breathe it, his name is all you hear in your mind, its own soft echo a consistent companion to the sheer pleasure he drowns you in.

Alex, Alex, Alex.

—

It’s been a month.

A month in your new little workspace, a month of painting, a month of successfully avoiding him. Despite it being his investigation, he now keeps his distance from the makeshift art space he had given you. Maybe he finally got the message that you didn’t want to be around him, that the mere thought of even uttering a single word to him made you feel almost nauseous.

You haven’t seen him in weeks. 

When you finish a piece, he sends his agents. You know a few by name now, but don’t bother with small talk. They come, give you a friendly hello, take the finished, wrapped painting and leave—that’s it.

That’s all it is.

You don’t have to do anything else, and it’s wonderful. You spend your days painting, relishing in the familiar feel of a brush between your fingers and enjoying the legal money deposited into your account every week.

You get ahead with bills. You buy some new clothes. You feel refreshed, finding a certain needed peace from the sudden financial stability. You know it’s not going to last—Jacob doesn’t talk about the case a whole lot, but you know that the team has made some progress with it, so you put a little money aside for the day the FBI no longer needs you.

He becomes a fast friend, and if you were ever to find it within you to thank Marcus for anything in this world, it would be him. You surely would’ve gone batshit insane if you’d been holed up in that room by yourself day in and day out, probably worse if you had been locked up with Marcus every day.

But not Jacob.

Jacob keeps the air light.

He’s kind, funny, and a bit of an idiot, and you find yourself fondly laughing nearly every day at the little things he would do or say. You thoroughly enjoy his company, and love hearing about his time in school, training to be an agent and the few cases he’s worked on so far.

He asks you questions and seems genuinely interested in getting to know you and of you past, never once making you feel lesser than or lowly for your less than ideal life before this. 

“You made a decision, Matisse. Good or bad—own it.”

He keeps to himself whenever you find yourself focused on your work, and only steps in to remind you to take care of yourself. On the odd occasion, he’d join you, content to watch you work with a shine of interest.

You don’t like it, so you shove canvas paper and oil pastels at him to keep him from hovering any longer and it works. It becomes a little activity of sorts, a release for him whenever paperwork starts to push at his patience a little too much. 

“They should’ve hired you for this case,” you mumble teasingly around your lunch, grinning at the pride filling his features as he finishes his latest project—his own creation inspired by the Van Gogh you’re currently working on.

It’s pretty, full of bright colours and soft swirling patterns. The Future, he had called it, and apparently—it was all for you.

You need something colourful, Da Vinci, something happy. You’re too sad. 

The FBI doesn’t deserve him.

“Hey, I’m proud of this,” he retorts sharply, pointing a finger smudged with colour at you but his tone doesn’t match the bright amusement in his eyes, “belongs in a damn museum. It’s an original Wilson—people will flock to see it. You just wait, Michaelangelo, this will bring a lot of money down the track, mark my words.”

Your chuckle is cut off by the insistent buzz in his pocket, and he stands immediately, answering the call with a swift Wilson and stepping away from the table with his phone pressed to his ear.

It’s Marcus... you know just by the way he positions himself, ensuring to keep a bit of distance and turning away so you don't have to potentially hear his voice from the other end. You quickly lose interest in the conversation, focusing back on the open book you’ve been trying—and failing—to get into the last few days.

The interest in the conversation was lost, until you hear it.

“Understood, sir. We’ll leave now.”

Immediately looking up in question, your brows start to furrow as Jacob wraps up the phone call and strides back to the table quietly. Anxiety begins to build in the pit of your stomach at the sudden serious set of his features, unused to seeing the usually bright and bubbly face now so stoic. It’s Agent Wilson, not Jacob. 

“We’re leaving?” you ask in confusion, “but I haven’t even done—”

The frown between his thick brows deepens, and he barely looks at you while he shrugs his navy blue suit jacket on, leaving faint smudges of orange and pink on the lapels.

“Leave it, we need to get to the office.”

The anxiety immediately gives way to dread.

The office? Where Marcus and his team are? Why?

You want to ask if you can stay behind—straight up refuse to go anywhere near that damn building—but the firm set of Jacob’s lips lets you know it’s non-negotiable.

He helps you with your bag, a certain urgency to his movements, and then you’re descending the stairs with him hot on your tail. He ushers you into the car, throwing a wary glance each way down the street before moving around the vehicle and sliding into his seat.

You swear you can feel your heart beating in your throat. He’s clearly in a rush, but you’re at a loss as to why. Has something happened? Is there danger? Are you in danger?

With your mind beginning to hurl possibilities at you, you start to feel more and more nauseous with every swift swerve through traffic Jacob makes.

“Is everything okay?” You ask carefully, fingers fiddling with the straps of your bag as you try to calm the rage of your heart. 

He briefly looks away from the traffic and gives you a small reassuring smile, “Of course. There’s just been a big development and I’m needed back at the office for a debriefing, sorry for the rushing.”

“Oh,” you breathe in relief, “okay, I understand. Well, you can drop me home if that’s easier for you.”

“It’s an urgent thing and uh… Pike would like you at the office.”

Your lips press shut and an immediate frown overcomes your expression.

Of course.

If there had been developments in the case, why did you need to be there? It’s not like you're an agent with unlimited access to the available information. Your own folder Marcus had given you was severely lacking any true details of the case beyond what you needed to know, and it’s not like you were involved in anything anymore, so you had very little to contribute further than your creative talents.

You keep quiet for the rest of the quick trip, taking the hint that now is not the time for small talk. The need to chat is nonexistent to you right now anyway, even if Jacob happened to be in a perkier mood. The mere thought of seeing, and talking to, Marcus again does nothing to ease the dread churning in the pit of your gut. 

The building is not a welcome sight, yet you hurry to follow Jacob from the brightly lit parking lot and into the home of the FBI. He stays beside you the whole way, through the wide crowded corridors and during the silence of the elevator, giving you one final reassuring smile before he pushes open the door to the Art Crime Department.

It’s busy. 

Marcus doesn’t suddenly appear from nowhere and bombard you both at the entrance. You can take a deep breath. The shrill ringing of phones fill the space, and the shuffle of agents near running about with various files and pieces of paper takes you a little off guard.

There’s an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air. You can’t quite put your finger on why it unsettles you so.

You follow Jacob further into the chaos, ensuring to keep out of the way and keeping an eye out for the one man you seem to now be bracing for, steeling your nerves into something harder, something unbreakable. You don’t need to wait long—there he is.

He looks tired.

Marcus appears from a room, presumably his own personal office, raking a hand through his mussed hair and saying a few brief words to a coworker before his eyes zero in on Jacob. He points to the conference room where you’d once sat at the beginning of this, already heading that way with another agent, and Jacob gives a short nod in response.

You try to blend into the background behind Jacob so Marcus doesn’t take much notice of you, but it’s not even a moment later and his eyes are suddenly meeting yours. The feeling of his attention is instant, and the increase of your heart is familiar by now.

Despite the distance between you, you feel how they roam over your face, seemingly searching your expression, but it’s not long until they fall away and you’re left to exhale quietly, now free from his gaze. 

He disappears into the conference room, and you swallow down the thick feeling of anxiety building in the back of your throat. He doesn’t seem eager, or interested, in talking to you straight away, and you’re relieved by that—you could mentally and emotionally prepare yourself a little more.

“My desk is over there if you want to sit down,” Jacob offers, turning and walking backwards in order to point you in the right direction, “and I’ve got snacks in the bottom drawer.”

Rolling your eyes, you give a strained huff of amusement and start walking towards it, “Of course you do.”

Your shoulder catches the frame of someone else and you quickly take a step back, wide eyes locking with a pair of vaguely amused blue ones.

He’s dressed sharply, much different to the basic suits the agents around him wear, in a well kept grey toned three piece suit with the simple white collar of his shirt popped open at the base of his throat. His soft blond curls are styled neatly back, and the gentle scent of tea wafts from the cup in his hold.

He’s pretty, by society’s standards, but his eyes are sharp, as if they can see right into the very centre of you.

You don’t like it.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you mumble, “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

You don’t linger to hear what the agent has to say. You hurry into Jacob’s desk space and throw your bag under it before taking a seat in the simple desk chair, the backrest squeaking as you rest into it.

His desk is as you expected it to look—messy, but organised in his own little chaotic way. The edges of his computer screen are littered with sticky notes of reminders, his ballpoint pens are all missing their lids, he has a bobble head character of a sports player next to his keyboard and a crumpled paper plane lies hidden beneath a thick notebook.

It’s undoubtedly Jacob, end to end.

The wide variety of sweets and chips resting on old files doesn’t surprise you at all when you tug at the stiff drawer, and you immediately zero in on the ones he’s been sharing with you over the past few weeks.

“Jane, stay out of trouble,” a brunette orders sharply as she passes, briefly catching your attention and the man you had previously bumped into comes to a stop just beside you.

“Aye aye, Captain,” he replies dryly with the growings of a smirk, sipping quietly at the tea in his hands and watching the last few agents file into the conference room before the door closes.

Do people still use saucers? He does. He half turns towards you and eyes you curiously as you sway absent-mindedly in Jacob’s desk chair, breaking into the packet of sour candies.

“You’re not an agent.”

You blink up at him and give a small, polite smile, “No, I’m not.”

He makes a low noise of thought to himself and sits on the edge of the desk opposite to Jacob’s, watching you over the rim of the plain white cup he lifts to his lips.

You shift a little under his study, busying yourself with picking a lemon flavoured candy out from the packet and looking over the various little notes decorating the dated computer screen.

Meeting @ 10 Tues. Picasso retrieval daily @ 8. Get bread. Call ma before she has a damn heart attack—

“How long have you been an artist?”

Eyes rolling back to the stranger, you give a slightly confused, “What? How do you know I’m an artist?”

“You have paint on your fingers,” he replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the room.

Rubbing your fingers together, you feel the tell tale crack of dried paint over your skin and glance down at it in vague interest. He’s got a really good set of eyes. You shift a little in the seat and pinch the ends of your sleeves before pulling them down further over your hands to hide them from him.

“A few years,” you reply vaguely, “you’re rather observant, Agent Jane.”

It comes across more as an accusation rather than a general statement, and it doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. He grins, flashing a nice set of pearly white teeth. 

“Patrick,” he supplies, “and I’m a consultant.”

“Didn’t even know that was a thing,” you mutter plainly, not liking the way you feel like a fucking open book with this stranger, “well, shouldn’t you be in there, then?”

You nod towards the closed door of the conference room and Patrick makes a low noise of dismissal, a slight scrunch curling his nose.

“I already know everything about the murders—Lisbon can handle it.”

The word cuts through the air and chills you right to the bone. 

“Murders? What murders?”

Patrick looks at you, shrugging lightly.

“That’s why we’re here. The fancy little tracker led this bunch down to the meeting point in California, but we found the bodies first. Deal gone wrong, I’m guessing. The buyer probably found the painting to be a fake, and got rid of the delivery men because of it. Very messy.”

Your stomach turns.

The painting? Your painting? 

“What was wrong with the piece?” You ask quietly, voice suddenly strained.

“Not sure,” Patrick murmurs, taking an apparent interest in the way you’re reacting to his information and studying you from over his tea, “guess we’ll know soon enough.”

You swallow, a sting of sweat building along the back of your neck. They knew it was a replica? How? You must’ve done something different, there must’ve been something wrong with it. Otherwise how else would they know? They wouldn’t.

Have you made a mistake?

Is that why Marcus wanted you here? Are you in trouble? What would be the ramifications of your mistake? After all, it’s your fault. People had died because you didn’t focus hard enough on your work. The FBI have probably realised how useless you are if you can’t even convince some shady black market dealers that your pieces are real. 

You must’ve been distracted. You never made mistakes, and now you’ve made one that cost lives. How many? It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that it happened, and now you have to live with that knowledge.

People have died. People have died because of you. 

You fucked up. 

-

tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

[buffythecomicslayer]

In an exclusive interview, Amber Benson, James Marsters, and Charisma Carpenter dove into the new Audible original Slayers: A Buffyverse Story, which debuts on October 12. Due to the ongoing SAG-AFTRA strike, they could not speak on their experiences on Buffy, Angel, or any other struck work.

Slayers is co-written by Amber Benson, who portrayed Tara in Buffy, and Christopher Golden, who has penned multiple books in the Buffyverse. Before the COVID pandemic, Benson began calling her former costars to see who might want to be involved, focusing on the characters she felt weren’t serviced enough in the original show. She also wanted to find a way to highlight what it means to be a slayer who is also a woman of color.

Amber, why did you want to do this now?

Amber Benson: The reason I got excited about doing Slayers was because I wanted to see Charisma be a vampire slayer. I want to live in the meta world where Charisma Carpenter is Cordelia, the Vampire Slayer. That was the pull for me. We spent a ton of time trying to create satisfying arcs for all of these characters that we love so much. It’s been a labor of love. For me, doing this was about diving into a world where I get to have some control over things.

Why set it in 2013 instead of 2023?

Benson: We wanted a passage of time so there was an entrenched world where slayers existed in our world and they were everywhere — especially because we have Laya who takes audiences through this mythology. She’s like a fangirl of vampire slaying, and is on the Reddit forums. We didn’t want it so entrenched that we were so far removed from other times. We wanted that sweet spot of the world knows about this stuff, but it’s not an old hat.

What was it like getting back in the room to record with everyone?

James Marsters: We love each other so much that it was absolutely fabulous. I was just able to watch Charisma step into this role and have it make complete sense. It is so far from the Charisma that we started with years ago. It couldn’t be further, and yet, it makes absolute sense. Just her as an actor, being able to give a strong, loving, slightly world-weary, wise perspective to it, this absolutely seems like what Cordelia would be like in 2013. And I loved watching Amber take her character in a completely new direction. It absolutely makes sense, but it couldn’t be further from the Tara that we started with. And I was in awe of Juliet Landau.

And then Seth Green showed up! He’s not even in it, but he was recording something else in another booth at the building, and he heard we were in there. He comes in, and the whole thing stops. We didn’t do any work for 45 minutes because we’ve just gotta love on Seth. It was a complete love fest the whole time. We’re all in a really good place. All of our lives are going really well, so we could brag about how well we’re doing. Plus, meeting Laya DeLeon Hayes, having her fold into our family — and she’s the most experienced voice actor of all of us!

The last time you played Spike was in 2004. How did feel stepping back into it?

Marsters: I had told the producers way back when: “I’ve been doing Spike for about seven years, and if you want me to do the character, you’ve got about seven more years. I think we can get away with it for a 14-year window.” Spike is a vampire, he ain’t aging, but James is! Seven years came and went; it hadn’t happened, and I put it in the rear-view mirror. Then Amber calls me! And it was perfect.

Tara was a very important character on TV, and it was really devastating how that arc ended. Amber, can you hint at what she’s like now in this alternate universe?

Benson: She’s a very kind-hearted character, and we wanted to give her some meat. So we found a way, without spoiling anything, to give her something to sink her teeth into. We also wanted to keep the goodness of her, and it’s still in there, but we go to some darker places. And selfishly, as an actor, I wanted to work with Charisma, to do more with James, to spend time with Juliet. I have a lot of fun stuff with Juliet!

Charisma, you’ve been very vocal about your experience on Buffy. What was your reaction to getting the ask to come back into this world and bring Cordelia back? Were you hesitant at all?

Charisma Carpenter: When I got a call from Amber in 2020, I said, “You know, my friend, I would follow you anywhere. Of course, I want to be a part of it.” I didn’t know where it would end up, or certainly what medium it would be in, but it wouldn’t matter. I would just do it because I trust her vision. I trust her and I respect her talent as a writer and creator and I just love her to pieces.

How did it feel for you to be able to give Cordelia this entirely new life?

Carpenter: I think I felt a bit lost. Because the description of Cordelia and the scenes were the world-weary, kind of doom and gloom. I’m kind of saddled with this young player that’s super excited. How do I play this embattled slayer, who’s living their purpose and sees it really as the burden that it is — taking on the big bad — and infusing that with the Cordelia from before, which is sassy and witty and pithy and all those superficial things? How do I balance them? So for me, it was such an interesting dilemma to figure out. I spent a lot of time with Christopher and Amber, stressed, going, “I don’t know what I’m doing.” I didn’t think it was possible to bring more layers to Cordelia, because I feel like she went through so much in terms of her character arc from beginning to end.

Marsters: It’s so funny because, from my perspective, you came in and effortlessly did this. It didn’t seem to be a struggle at all!

When this was announced, many referred to it as a Spike-focused series because he’s the narrator, but this universe has always been so about female empowerment. Do you guys see it that way?

Marsters: I saw that, and was like, “Oh, didn’t clock that before. I don’t think so, but OK! It’s called Slayers!”

Benson: And he came up with that name!

Marsters: Yeah, first we thought of Spike and Dru, but reading the script, that wasn’t really the thing. We have two new slayers that we haven’t had before: Cordelia and Indira. We’ve been promising the audience there’s a new slayer for a new generation. Every generation has one. We never made good on that promise. So, you had to wait — now you get two.

Benson: I think it’s a multi-pronged narrative. We have amazing Spike stuff. And he is the narrator and he takes us through this and has so many amazing arcs and relationships. The Juliet/James combo is electrifying.

Marsters: Spike is a great character, but he doesn’t encapsulate the theme. I’m in the project a lot, but what are you going to call it, Spike, the Vampire, Slayer of Vampires? It’s not the same thing. It is much more exciting to keep it focused, as it always has been, on a woman who is overcoming the challenges of life, and using a vampire demon metaphor to talk about those challenges. That’s one of the big strengths of the project since the beginning. I was glad with all the changes, all the updates and all of the surprises that we’re offering, that that kernel is kept. I would never want to get away from that.

Benson: Charisma, you should also talk about this because the “Justice for Cordelia” aspect is very important.

Charisma, please! Let’s hear it!

Carpenter: One of the most important things to me about Slayers is that it is an opportunity to give the Buffyverse fandom permission to enjoy the show, enjoy these characters again in a way that is representative of perseverance, of work ethic, of the familiar. It has really been made clear to me how much entertainment in general and the previous show and what this future show will do to provide comfort, empowerment, self-belief and reminders of our purpose. I think it will be an opportunity to give credit and justice to Tara, to Anya, to Cordelia. Because that show involved hundreds of people to make, and it wasn’t about just one person. So I feel like it’s really a beautiful thing to have this opportunity to bring her back to life — Cordelia specifically — and have her live out a very empowering life, and share her wisdom from that battle. I just feel like it’s very poetic in a lot of ways.

Spike is a bit of a controversial character, especially through the 2023 lens. Amber, how did you come to the decision to have him narrate?

Benson: No. 1, it’s always important to separate the actor from the character. And I know that James has spoken about this. He is one of the best humans, I adore James. But yeah, there is problematic stuff with the character, especially around consent. We really wanted to do something different and not live in the past. So for us, it was sort of a reinvention of the Spike character. We wanted to see more of that human and empathetic version of Spike. That was really important to us — the more James-version of Spike. He still has all the Spike bells and whistles. He’s still sexy as hell. But we also wanted to see that humanity and I think that was one of the reasons James Leary is such a big part of this. There is a humanity. James really wanted to make sure we still kept him Spike, but we updated for 2023.

Again, I know you can’t talk about the past projects here, but many of these characters weren’t there at the end — specifically Cordelia, who’d died in Angel. Are you ignoring the events of Angel completely?

Benson: We really created Slayers away from everything else. We wanted to create a world that felt familiar, but also was different — because I think putting your own stamp on something is really important. I think that’s what Chris and I wanted to do — find a way to do the things that we thought were important, some of those righting of wrongs things. That was important for us. We weren’t really looking at other versions of these worlds to draw from it really was. We tried to keep it its own unique thing.

Well, it is based on characters previously created. Was it a struggle to get permission to take ownership of these characters?

Benson: We can’t really talk about this stuff because of the strike and because also, sometimes, the creation is the creation, and the creators are totally removed. And for me, just personally, I will say this, I always had trouble going to conventions and not being honest about certain situations. And now that all of that is sort of grist for the mill, I feel this relief that I can love this world and these characters and have a little bit of a little tiny, tiny piece of ownership in them. I love this world, I love the family I have because of it. I love the fans I have in my life. A show is not always just the person that came up with a show. A show is a collaboration for us on Slayers.

Speaking broadly about ownership of creative material, it really is a collaborative media. It’s not one person. The auteur theory does not apply here. It takes a village.

Marsters: The genetic material is there because Amber breathed it. She is a fabulous writer, and Christopher Golden has been writing books in the Buffyverse for years. So it’s kind of a seamless continuum. It’s not just like a bunch of people who don’t know much about the lore or don’t care about it. There are people who’ve been involved from the beginning, in the driver’s seat.

Were there other characters or actors you wanted to bring back?

Benson: For us, the important thing is to do service to characters that maybe didn’t get the right servicing in other versions. So we really focused on that. That was really important for us.

Well, Seth Green popped in! Were there ever any talks of bringing him on?

Benson: We were talking about it, but we had such a full slate of characters that once we looked at it, we were like we can’t service everybody if you have too many characters. It was really important for us to make sure everybody had a satisfying arc. If we do multiple seasons, then we can bring in other people and give them new things to do. Seth is definitely on our list. Clare Kramer too, we would love to have Glory come and play. There’s just so many amazing characters to bring in.

Do you see this going for multiple seasons?

Benson: I would love to do more seasons. Emma Caulfield was like, “When do we do the next one?” We really would love to do more. We love the team at Audible and Audible UK. They’re all fans. They all love this world. So we would love to jump back in and do more. It’s really up to the fans!

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 14: DREAM CATCHER - Episode 13: Because We're With Our Friends

Ibuki: << The hamburg steak, pancakes and fries are for over here. Thank youuu. >>

Ibuki: Woah~ I’m seriously grateful you’re getting me dinner just ‘cause I fought off that pickpocket.

Izumi: (They’re wolfing the food down at an amazingly fast pace…)

Ibuki: << Oh, I’d like another 5 servings of fries. >>

Ibuki: You guys want any?

Kumon: Oh, sure~

Misumi: I’ll eat the triangle fries~!

Ibuki: << Make that 7. >>

Izumi: 5 of those are for themself…

Yuki:  They ordered the same amount a while ago and ate it all.

Kazunari: You really do eat well, Ibukichi~

Muku: “Really”?

Kumon: Ibukichi’s known for their big appetite. They also upload food challenge videos, and they all blow up.

Ibuki: Potatoes are seriously so good! Potatoes FTW!

Tenma: So, what are you doing in the US?

Ibuki: I came to see my Nee-chan who’s studying here. I learned English while at it, too.

Muku: So that’s why you can speak English so well.

Ibuki: If you wanna be world-famous, you gotta have a global reach, and knowing English is a must!

Yuki: Heeh… You thought this through.

Ibuki: Duh! Can’t go around wasting even a second of my life.

Ibuki: You only live once, and you’re the protag of your own life. That’s why I focus on making myself shine most.

Ibuki: I gotta go all out if I wanna make my dreams come true.

Kumon: How nice~ I’d be able to enjoy musicals even more if I knew English.

Kazunari: Have you seen any musicals or plays while staying here, Ibukichi?

Ibuki: Liike I saaiid, I’ve got no interest in acting.

Ibuki: Time is money nowadays, and you want me to pay real money just to sit there? No thanks.

Ibuki: You can 2x a movie or a drama, but you can’t do that with live theater~

Izumi: (I see, so that’s how the youth nowadays thinks.)

Tenma: Then how come you know MANKAI Company?

Ibuki: I know someone who’s obsessed with you.

Ibuki: I watched a performance that was being streamed for free a while back cause he rec'd it like crazy, but all the actors were unknown hags.

Ibuki: And I’m not really into historical stuff. 

Yuki: Could’ve been the performance with first gen.

Izumi: I guess those performances were a bit more adult oriented.

Muku: But there are all sorts of plays, so you might eventually find something to your liking.

Kumon:  You might also change your mind completely if you watch it in the theater instead of streaming it!

Ibuki: Hm~ Then, let’s turn the question around, what’s so good about theater?

Muku: Eh?

Kumon: When you ask it like that, it’s hard to sum it up in a few words…

Ibuki: When you work independently, you get to decide what to do and when you want to do it, and you can change your mind on the fly.

Ibuki: But you’ve got a script when acting, so you can’t change anything up, right? Ain’t that boring?

Ibuki: And having to get along with the others in the company sounds like a real hassle.

Tenma: It’s exactly because you’re not alone that you can create things you wouldn’t be able to create by yourself.

Kumon: Right, right! It’s like it takes you to places you’d never imagine!

Kazunari: It's super hype when you get into it~! I think that's a feeling you can't experience when you're by yourself.

Yuki: When I look back to when I was the only one who wore my self-designed outfits, I think my world was much smaller than it is now.

Misumi: Acting with everyone is the most fun!

Muku: Anything we can’t overcome by ourselves, we can overcome together, and then we can move on to the next challenges.

Tenma: Most importantly, I love the plays I put on together with these guys.

Kazunari: TenTen…!

Misumi: Me too~!

Kumon: I feel that way too!

Ibuki: Huuuh…?

Tenma: You’ll probably get what I mean when you make friends like this, too.

Ibuki: …

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

[not-alien-girl-v]

New Girl au (The 1975)

Warning: language, drinking, tw matty healy, boobs

Note: How we feeling mattynation do we want more? Cameo from 5sos due to requests for it but i promise this isn’t a 5sos fic. Also both the 1975 and 5sos are together as bands but neither are famous they’re just somewhat known throughout the LA scene, which is where this story takes place.

“I guess it all started with a concert,” she begins.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“Hey baby, you come here often?” None other than Luke Hemmings flirts from behind the woman, and with a heavy sigh, she turns her head over her shoulder, looking up to meet his eyes.

“We’re already dating, you’re drunk, and this is the third time you’ve tried that line with me tonight. You keep getting rejected by me, walk over to Calum and play surprise leapfrog, and by the time that you’re done with that, you’ve already forgotten about me and you come right back. Both me and Calum are tired of this endless cycle.”

“Sorry, you just look so good tonight.” He snakes two sweaty hands around the small of her back, pulling her in and wasting no time in attacking her neck with sloppy, open mouthed kisses, so damp she nearly gags at the smell of his saliva he’s leaving trails of on her neck but he seems to be enjoying himself, so she decides to let him be.

“So, you use this trick on all your girlfriends?” She jokes warmly with him.

“Mmm, just the pretty ones. That’s you, by the way. So delicious tonight, I’m gonna eat you up girl,” in his drunken haze, he begins swaying back and forth with her in his arms, leaning just a little bit too much weight from his head onto her shoulder, and she stumbles a bit under it but he takes no notice to it, or at least doesn’t choose to acknowledge it.

“You gotta be on stage in 30 minutes, baby. Why don’t you go eat some pizza and drink some water, sober up a little.”

“Ahh,” he groans at her, pushing himself away with an awkward amount of force that sends him tumbling back into somebody else.

“Hey, watch it- wait, Luke?” It’s a girl, and if Y/N had to guess, she must be a solid foot taller than her with the crazy big heels Y/N could never imagine putting on, let alone balancing on, let alone wearing them to a concert. “I didn’t know you were playing tonight.”

“Hey, yeah, hey, what’s up, good to see you.”

“Lu, who’s this?”

“I’m Anna, Luke and I have been going out together for a few weeks now. Well, a little more than going out, but you get the gist. Who are you?”

Y/N looks at Luke. Y/N looks at Anna. Y/N looks at Luke. Y/N looks at Anna. Y/N looks at Calum, who looks at Luke, who looks at Y/N, then looks at Anna.

“Cousin. I’m his cousin.”

“You’re... his cousin?” Anna pops a hip out, resting a hand on her hip.

“I am his cousin.”

“Cousin,” confirms Anna.

“Cousin,” confirms Y/N.

“Ok I saw you two kissing and stuff before I walked over I just wanted to see what the excuse was gonna be,” a light smile plays on her face, and Anna doesn’t seem uncomfortable enough in this situation. She turns to Luke, smile remaining. “Luke,” she begins like a heartfelt speech, but swiftly smacks him in the face instead. She turns to Y/N now. “Well, I think we have this settled now.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“And obviously, I couldn’t be staying at his house with all his stupid band member friends - God! Adult men in boybands who all live together are the absolute worst! I really needed to just find someplace of my own, my own space, not just crashing on their couch most nights. I’m sorry, what was the question?”

“Do you... have any hobbies?” The man with the bleached blond hair and a sleeve of tattoos speaks, blinking a few times, trying to process the entire situation.

“Oh, right. Well, I bake. Actually I don’t, really, I don’t know why I said that. I’m still figuring myself out, you know. I’m young, I have time for trial and error, like crochet or scrapbooking. I’m not one of those creepy porcelain doll collectors, though, in case you were worried.”

“Good, because you really had a look to you,” the other man with dark brown hair and a penguin tattoo chimes in.

“So,” she smacks the top of her thighs and stands up out of the armchair in the living room, “you said you had another roommate? Matthew, or something? You know, from your add on Craigslist, you seemed like women.”

“Really? What gave you that impression?” The first man, George, as he introduced himself as, follows her into the kitchen where she wanders (inspects) the room.

“Something about the words ‘sunsoaked’ and ‘beigey’. I don’t know, I just really felt like only a creative woman or a flamboyant gay man could have written those. Either way, perfect roommate to be living with. Then I come in here and you guys are all, grown, manly, with your tattoos and your hip sideswept hair,” she glances at Ross, smiles kindly, then looks away.

“Yeah, our other roommate, Matthew, wrote it for us. We should have known better than to let him write it without intervention. He’s a character, for sure,” George leans against the counter a few feet from where she stands.

“Where is he now? Is he- oh, is he no longer with us? Is that why there’s so many framed pictures of him in here? Like in memorial? I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Ross chuckles, “no, no, the lad is still alive. He’s out at brunch with our manager, Jamie. He’ll be back in about half an hour or so.”

“Manager? Are you guys the quirky male leads in a goofy sitcom?”

“No, we’re in a band, actually,” Ross opens a container labeled ‘fish flakes’ and sprinkles them into a fishbowl just a little too close to the kitchen sink for Y/N’s taste, and a meaty bright orange goldfish swims up to the top of the bowl to meet the flakes.

“Crap, um, listen I’m sorry about what I said earlier, the whole band thing, I was just upset with my ex, it wasn’t a whole, prejudice thing, I swear.”

“Oh, no, none taken, trust us, we get it, we’re awful. You think that other band was bad, wait until you get Matty in here,” George rolls his eyes in remembrance of his goofy friend.

“Hey, come on, we’re not all bad, Adam keeps our shit together,” Ross adds in.

“Oh! Speaking of which, our other mate, Adam. He’s a great friend of ours, he’s our lead guitarist. He lives with his girlfriend a few blocks away, but he comes over all the time. Just to let you know,” George tells her.

The loft apartment has a comfortable amount of echo, another thing that was mentioned on the Craigslist listing, this Matty guy must really know what he’s talking about. She takes another full glance around, taking in all the sights, the glass grapes precisely placed behind the sectional couch. This place would make a fine home for her. 

“Well? What do you think of the place?” George speaks from behind her.

“The place? I mean the loft, it’s beautiful. All this exposed brick, I’m a sucker for it, I really am. I’m just not so sold on the whole concept of 3 male roommates. And don’t take it personally, I just have to be careful these days, you never know.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. I get it, really, I do. But why don’t we wait until Matthew gets home, let him chat you up for a while, and then we can re-assess this whole thing, see where you stand then?” George has a way of cocking his head to the side and making direct eye contact while speaking that really perfects a sincere effect, and Y/N wholeheartedly believes every word he says, smiling up at him. He would be a great car salesman.

“Alright, I’ll give it some time.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

The warm daylight had already fizzled away by the time Matty’s key sinks into the lock. Apartment 4D is old, so old, in fact, that the lock of wooden door sticks a bit. Because of this, Matty has the pattern engraved into his brain of how to unlock said door. First, you jiggle the key to the left, then push the door in, jiggle it to the right, push the door out, and with one last stomp of your foot on the welcome mat, the lock clicks out of it’s jammed position. Matty has considered reaching out to the landlord about this problem but if he’s being honest, he hasn’t seen the man in ages, it’s very likely that he may be a rotting corpse in the basement where his office is.

The hallway lacked light, so Matty’s eyes squint while trying to focus on the form of the door in the dark. Once the door swings open, however, the light from the open window (sunsoaked) lit up the wooden floors (beigey) and the entire apartment seems like the opening to the very gates of heaven, at least from Matty’s perspective.

Golden rays soak through the tastefully drawn curtains, something that was surprisingly not his handiwork, and he knows for a fact that neither Ross or George has an artistic eye like he does, at least not enough to care about something as trivial as a drawn curtain at golden hour. 

However, the two men are easily spotted standing side by side before the window, admiring the beautiful never-before-seen view this entire event gives. 

“You’re right, this really was the right move for the room. Looks beautiful now,” Ross speaks warmly, like the very golden rays are being absorbed into his skin, leaving behind the feeling of pure peace and love, and maybe a slight tan.

Standing at the very center of the heaven-esque landscape is a third, unknown figure, inches shorter than the other two, but he can see the light reflecting off of her hair and he could easily swear he may have truly entered heaven the moment the sticky door swung wide.

It’s like a scene straight out of a movie. She begins to turn, hearing the door has been opened, her hair swings back behind her shoulder, revealing her satin skin beneath. It all happens in slow motion. Her face is finally shown clear to him, she’s glancing at him over her shoulder, blinking once, eyelashes fluttering at the movement, and his heart wants to stop when he realizes it’s him that this woman has set her eyes on. 

“You must be Matty! I’m Y/N,” her manicured hand extends to reach out to him, and his eyes follow up from it, to her homemade bracelets on her wrist, the hemmed straps of her top, her shoulder, her shoulder, back to her pretty hair, and, most importantly, her pretty face. Truth be told, he did spend a little too much time taking in her breasts nearly on display through her fitted tank top, but that’s not as romantic, so he chooses not to focus on it. 

He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wanted something from him, and he knew in his heart that in this fleeting moment, he may be unable to deny her of anything she asked, no matter how impractical. 

And in that moment he knew that she was going to alter his life.

[conellu]

Spicy Kokichi Headcanons

Was gonna combine this with some Nagito HCs, but I'm getting through dr2 so fucking slowly lmfao

Kokichi O(u)ma/GN!Reader

Also posted on my AO3

((Nagito's can be found here!!))

Warnings: dom/sub, creampie, biting, knife play, blood play, piss, spit

He’s a dom leaning switch, he’s not readily willing to give up his dom status but he will mess around with the idea and eventually come to terms with the idea that he is 100% a brat as well.  Gotta let him stew on that himself though, but when he comes to the realization I promise you, you will know.

Peg him, use a dildo, use a massager on his cock, prostate massagers, man loves it all as long as you’ve successfully worked hard enough at putting him in his place.  Pull his hair and he’s in heaven.

Mans is DEFINITELY into creampies, he will want you to not clean up if you had sex before going out, he wants it to leak out of you on the way there or around others.  He’s definitely going to make a joke here or there, please ignore him or he will keep going until he wish you were dead.

If it can’t be a creampie, second favorite is your mouth.  Seeing you swallow it all makes his heart swell with love.  Third is your face, expect cackles afterwards (he may or may not help you clean off your face, he will toss whatever shirt is closest to the bed at you every time though).  Fourth is just anywhere else on your body.

He also is definitely into leaving marks, he doesn’t care how, he wants to fluster not just you but everyone else who will see them.  The more in a session, the better.

It’s hard to make him actually angry and receive a REAL punishment, but he will leave you high and dry if you’ve pushed any button he has.  No matter how much you beg, cry, or whine, he’s not letting you cum.  If you’ve REALLY done something wrong, he’ll pleasure himself while you writhe either beside him or under him (depending on your size).

That being said, he’s probably the softest after these moments (which isn’t saying much, he’s pretty non-existent for aftercare), but he’ll be over dramatic, sighing and wrapping his body around you like a jetpack for a couple minutes.  He won’t admit it, but he does it because he wants to let you know he isn’t ACTUALLY angry with you.

Speaking of after care, don’t expect anything massive.  If you want to shower or bathe afterwards, get yourself there and drag him in with you.  If you want cuddles… Super good luck on that.  If it’s a special day (anniversary, birthday, any holiday that he finds to be important), then he’ll be more likely to cuddle you.  If you’ve had a hard day, then he’s also more likely to cuddle you (after you beg him)

He can and will talk the entire time, good luck shutting him up (just manage to get a prostate massager or something in his ass beforehand if you want him to be a drooling, whimpering, but not talking mess.)

He likes to film his cock going in and out of you, adding his own commentary over the videos.  Does he watch them afterward?  Does he keep them for any reason?  Who knows.

Humiliation, humiliation, humiliation.  Degradation, degradation, degradation.

Public sex is typical, if it’s not a place where sex can be had publically (cause c’mon, he does have some standards) then he will find other ways to work you up.  Thigh grabs, brushes against your chest, using any and all innuendo possible to the point it makes others uncomfortable, dragging you somewhere just to make out with you to make you hot and bothered and then dragging you back to others.

He actually prefers to not do that kind of stuff around his D.I.C.E members, they’re very special to him.  BUT he will gladly cum in your underwear and make you wear them when they come over.

Basically, fucker has very little boundaries.  

Ride his thigh.  That’s it, that’s the headcanon.

You can ride his shoes too, by the way.

He will shame you for doing it, but he loves it.

GROSS BOI THINGS (He doesn't ask for consent before doing most things, but he does for all of these)

Piss.  Fucker will piss on you if you give him the go ahead.  He likes to make you hold your piss as a power play.  You are not going to make it to the bathroom, don’t even try.  The sooner you give up, the sooner the humiliation is over.

Knives/Blood.  He aint gonna cut you to bits, but he will do small cuts here and there, his initials, depending on your pain tolerance he will manage his name (or at least part of it before it gets to be too much, he doesn’t want you crying unless you’re enjoying some part of the experience.)  He will lick the blood and smile at you like the bastard he is, blood on his chin and nose (depending on how close the cuts are together).  Pull him in for a kiss and he’ll fall more in love with you, that’s peak romance

Spit, spit, spit.  On your face, on your tongue, on your body, he doesn’t care.  If he’s drooling while fucking you, the idea of it dripping from his lips down to your body makes him want to cum immediately.  He will tap your chin to make you open your mouth and spit into it, he wants to see you swallow it and then open your mouth to show him.  He’ll laugh and call you disgusting for doing it, but it’s in the top 3 hottest things he’s ever seen you do. He also likes it if you spit Panta in his mouth but that’s solely just for you guys to know so sssshhhhhh.

[arachnixe]

A Doll's Doubts

In a reality in decline, crumbling, decaying, nearly gone, one last island holds out for a while longer against the erosion of everything.

Once there was a whole world here.

Once there were stars overhead.

Once there was night and day and a sun and a sky for it all.

All that remains on the island is some picked-through ruins, a crudely built table, two seats, a mismatched tea set, and an assortment of flotsam that drifted to shore.

Two figures sit there, enjoying their tea party: a doll with star-stained hands and her favorite skeleton.

Their cups are empty, but neither one is much for actually consuming anything anyway. Nevertheless, the doll brings a cup to her lips periodically as she meanders from topic to topic. The skeleton remains silent and still, but the doll is chatty enough for both of them.

“…and that’s the tale of the Scary Spider Who’s Actually Really Nice!

“That’s a really good story, Dolly. I liked the part where all the dolls lived happily ever after.

“Thank you! I’m glad you liked it. This next one is, uh…”

The doll looks around her for inspiration, peering into the chaotic uncolor noise of the sea surrounding them on all sides.

There is no horizon to look out toward anymore. The sea of Unreality extends in an unbroken line outward and upward into what used to be the sky.

It’s not that she quite sees shapes in the hiss and roil of everything that Isn’t, but sometimes her mind makes a pattern where none exists, and that is enough inspiration to draw upon for her storytelling.

There isn’t much else to do here, after all.

Today, however, something finally shifts inside her, and she finds she cannot push aside her worry.

“It’s coming closer, huh, Miss? What happens when it reaches us?”

“I don’t know, Dolly.”

The doll falls into uncharacteristic silence.

“You always used to know everything.”

Hands twist the makeshift tablecloth in front of her.

“But nowadays I do all the talking for you, and it’s not the same.”

“How so?”

“I don’t even know how much of what you say is really you, and how much is only pretend while you’re just a grumpy skellybones sitting there.”

“I love you, Dolly.”

“Do you really? Or…is that what I want to believe? You never said those words to me when you were alive!”

“I did not feel that way while I was alive. I was not kind to you. You deserved better.”

“Miss, I…”

“You rescued me from profound loneliness. You did not have to. I did not earn that loyalty, and I must strive to repay it.”

The skeleton who was once her witch does not move or speak, but there is a feeling that her words echo something alive inside it.

“You really are in there, aren’t you, Miss?”

“Of course, Dolly! I’ve been your best friend since you found me again!”

“So…what do we do?”

“You’re the witch now, Dolly. You’ve got all the power, and I’m just a skeleton. It’s gotta be up to you.”

“Oh…well, if I’m the witch, then…” Dolly ponders, hand to chin. “A witch has gotta have a doll, right? That’s the first thing.”

“Oh yes, definitely!”

“And that means I need ingredients. Hmmm…”

She moves to the collection of things that have drifted to them over time.

Dolly sifts through the pile of mostly incomprehensible odds and ends from beyond reality. Much of it is in materials beyond her life’s experience, in shapes that defy her understanding.

Eventually, she discovers a single large slab of ordinary-looking wood.

“Miss, you can teach me how to turn this into a doll, right?”

“Of course! I’m really good at dolls. I made you, after all, and you’re the very best doll!”

“Okay, but I’m a witch now too, don’t forget!”

“I won’t, Dolly. And if you put my bones in the doll you make, then I can be your doll too!”

“Oh gosh! That will be so much fun! We can do all kinds of stuff together then, huh?”

“Yeah!”

“Like…tea parties. And telling stories, and, and… Maybe fixing the world so we can still be together for a really long time?”

“Or cracking what’s left of this reality open and slipping through to another one.”

“Oh! You always know what to do, don’t you, Miss!”

[aeoki]

Sandstorm - Prologue

Location: Desert Characters: Hinata & Kaoru Season: Winter Writer: Akira

TL Note:

Paisen is “senpai” (senior/upperclassman) with “sen” and “pai” swapped. It’s seen as a slang/friendly way of using “senpai”.

Chuugoku can either refer to China or the “central region” of Japan, hence the confusion.

ㅤ< Middle of November. “SS” Qualifying Round, Chuugoku region – Tottori desert (tentative name). >

Hinata: I open my eyes in the morning and I’m greeted with the desert.

You’re kidding~ This can’t be possible~ Even someone like little o’ me would get their heart crushed at the sight of this.

No, no! I’ve gotta stay positive! Nothing’s gonna be solved if I stay all negative and gloomy!

You can do it, Hinata! You’ve got this, Hinata! You’ve always overcome any obstacle that’s come your way in the past!

Just team up with Yuuta-kun, combine your skills and–

Wait, Yuuta-kun isn’t hereeeeee! Great~! Dreams? Shattered! Hopes? Gone like the wind! This is the final resting place for “2wink” at “SS”!

Kaoru: Outta the way, outta the way~!

Hinata: Whahoo!?

Hey, that’s dangerous, Hakaze-paisen[*]! I can’t believe you’d come crashing into me on a surfboar–

Wait, it’s Hakaze-senpaaaai ☆

I like Hakaze-senpai! A lot!

Kaoru: Why’re you breaking up your sentences? The way you’re speaking and stuff is kinda weird. You okay? Let’s take some deep breaths, yeah?

Hinata: Well, anyone would act like this if they were suddenly thrown into the desert!

If anything, don’t you think I’m more on the calm side? Isn’t that amazing? Normally, other people would be way more confused, you know?

Kaoru: Huh? Uhh, you’re Hinata, right?

Hinata: Yup! That’s me! What do I like? Yuuta-kun! What do I hate? Spicy stuff! That’s our official setup!

Kaoru: Okay. Anyway, I’m guessing you haven’t gotten an explanation about what’s going on here?

Hinata: Huh? Is it weird that I haven’t…?

Kaoru: No, not really. Hinata-kun, you haven’t met anyone else, right?

Hinata: Yeah! You were the first person I came across after waking up! I think I’d fall in love with you if I was Sleeping Beauty!

Kaoru: But I didn’t even kiss you?

Hmm~ Okay, I think I get it.

I was also pretty shocked to find myself in the desert after waking up in the morning, but I came across some other idols before meeting you, Hinata-kun.

Hinata: Other idols? Wait, you mean the other idols who were sent out to the Chuugoku region too, right?

Kaoru: Yeah. I don’t particularly care but it’s hard to tell whether you’re in the Chuugoku country[*] or the region just by its name.

No wait, “SS” is a national event so it’s obvious it’ll be taking place in Japan, huh.

Well, putting that aside, as you probably know, there are a lot of powerhouse idols among the ones that have been sent to this region.

A lot of the local idols participated in last year’s “SS” and ES has sent some of their powerhouse idols too. Probably as competition.

Hinata: Yeah~...

“UNDEAD” is a powerhouse unit so you guys have a good chance at winning, though. I was crying about it with Yuuta-kun thinking how our luck hit rock bottom.

And here we thought we could produce some pretty good results in “SS” and surprise the public. We even went into the mountains to train~

Kaoru: Why the mountains? Wait, Adonis-kun and Souma-kun also tend to head into the mountains sometimes too, though.

Anyway, all the strong idols I’ve come across have been trying to pick a fight with me.

I thought I could laugh it off and change their mind about it, but they just wouldn’t listen.

Hinata: Really~? That’s rough. Sounds like a Pokemon battle took place?

Kaoru: A Pokemon battle didn’t happen but they kept pestering me.

Well, they wouldn’t listen to me but they gave me an explanation on some things, so I’ve got a pretty good gist of what’s currently happening.

So right now, that’s probably why I’m calmer than you, Hinata-kun.

Hinata: Ohh, a blessing in disguise!

Kaoru: Yeah. I think I’ve also gotten the short end of the stick, though~ Looks like good things come to you if you live life earnestly.

So…

Hinata: ? Hakaze-paisen, why’re you slowly inching closer towards me? You’ve got a scary expression on your face.

Kaoru: It really looks like I’ve lucked out today…♪

Hinata: Huh…? What…?

Kaoru: It means I can easily get “Desert Coins” from the kids who haven’t understood the rules yet…♪

Hinata: Whaaat!? What’s a “Desert Coin”?

Kaoru: Well, actually, that’s just what I call it. They’re coins you can get from the desert, so a “Desert Coin” ♪

Hinata: Yeah so why are we in the desert!?

Kaoru: Well, you should be able to find out on your own sooner or later.

Hinata: NOOOOOO! I thought I landed on a spot on the board where a kind senior explains things to me, but I’m just getting into a tough spot one after the other…!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNext Chapter →

[ardent-fox]

✨️ Tag Game Tuesday Wednesday ✨️

Feeling the love after getting tagged by so many incredible humans! 😍👏 Thank you @celestialmickey, @energievie, @metalheadmickey, @suzy-queued, @tanktopgallavich, @xninetiestrendx, @francesrose3 and @look-i-love-u, squishing you all so hard 🫂🥰

Name: Lyds 🩵

When is your birthday? End of April, proud member of the Taurus squad ♉️

Favorite social media platform outside of tumblr? I deleted everything after I came here, sometimes I stalk Reddit but I don't have an account.

Do you wear make up? It used to be mascara and lipstick every day, but due to having to use eye drops I just wear lipstick now and do up my eyes for social gatherings. I only do a full face for special occasions and even then I forgo foundation because I absolutely hate the feel of it, luckily I got pretty clear skin and don't need to cover stuff up most of the time.

Favorite board game? Probably Boggle, I love word games. Would love to find the newer version of The Game of Life with more options in it, the old one is one of my favorites.

Do you have any tattoos? I don't, too apprehensive to put anything permanent on my body.

Which of the seven deadly sins would you say you struggle with the most? Sloth. I just want to be comfy and unbothered all the time, is that too much to ask? 😅

Best vacation you’ve ever been on? Relaxation-wise it was definitely the week-long cabin trip for our honeymoon, the place was only a few hours away by car yet the scenery felt like we were in a different world, ridiculously romantic setting all around. As for sightseeing, gotta hand it to Prague, there's something about the gothic architecture there that just speaks to me, I so wanna go again.

How do you get around town? I sweet talk people who love me into driving me 😇 Other than that, I just go on foot or take a cab once in a blue moon, I live in a small town and everything is really close.

Describe your vibe in three words: Honest, introspective, passionate.

Share a song rec:

This one saved my life 11 years ago. I love all its versions, but sharing this one for the sheer positivity in case someone needs a serotonin shoot.

Tagging @ian-galagher, @lalazeewrites, @lizelandre, @vintagelacerosette, @gardenerian, @heymrspatel, @shameless-notashamed, @chicanomick, @howlinchickhowl and anyone who sees this and wants to play! Love to all 💖

[ducktracy]

for the art asks: 3, 4, 11, 21 :)

3. Least favorite things to draw?

THIS IS GENUINELY HARD… “i don’t have one” is such a cheater answer! but as i’ve drawn more and more and gotten more out of my comfort zone, i find i don’t really dread drawing anything as much? being a professional artist is kind of nice because regardless of how you feel about what you’re drawing (not talking like morally objectionable stuff of course), you still GOTTA DRAW IT! which actually sounds horrible now that i put it that way BUT I MEAN IT IN A GOOD WAY LOL. like, i can groan and gripe about something, but at the end of the day there’s an end product that needs to be achieved and grumbling to myself isn’t gonna do me any favors.

i used to not like drawing cars, which i know is a pretty shared experience, but having gotten used to drawing cars for work or personal art i don’t mind as much anymore, and actually enjoy the challenge! i’m always looking to challenge myself, and i think that mindset has helped me a lot. i always tell my supervisors that i’ll draw anything they put in front of me LOL

4. Favorite things to draw?

TOO MANY TO LIST… so predictable of me to say this but Daffy and/or Porky are definitely up there regardless HAHA. it is very true though! they’re very forgiving to me. i can get into their minds well, and they’ve known me and my pencil enough to know what to do. we have a good relationship!! they’re always two characters i can draw with ease and feel good drawing. i will never run out of inspiration with them.

like any artist, i have a lot of Personal Artistic Philosophies, and one of my biggest is that i view my art as a conversation. i try to get into the heads of the characters i draw. at the same time, i feel like a director—telling them where to stand, what to pose, what to emote, no, this isn’t working, i need a little more from you, good, good, maybe try it like this, etc. it’s something i’ve embraced tenfold as of late, seeing as my job relies on this whole principle—getting into the minds of the characters and making them act believably, endearingly, and innocently funny. i really just like getting to draw any sort of character that i can build that “”relationship”” with, so to speak. it’s especially nice with my favorite characters or characters who are receptive to me back, so like Daffy or Porky or SpongeBob and so on.

on a LESS philosophical note though, i DO love painting as well. i really enjoy every part of the art process (and i’m not just saying that!), but i find coloring and painting and rendering particularly zen. it’s rewarding to watch the fruits of my labor come together and materialize! likewise, there’s less stress, because painting and coloring can be more ambiguous—i’m not doing thumbnails or rough layers of how i’m gonna color something, not struggling to figure out the construction or perspective of color. it’s a nice leisurely change of pace and is something i find relaxing… which is good and rare considering i’m firing on all cylinders otherwise! my mind is always going 37466372mph and so it’s nice to have something to ground it.

11. Favorite comment you’ve ever received on your work?

THIS I DO HAVE A MORE STRAIGHTFORWARD ANSWER TO HAHA.. i’m so fortunate enough to have been told many, many kind things from friends, coworkers, supervisors, followers and strangers alike. i make a point to internalize every compliment i get—acts of kindness are something i take very seriously and i’m very, very sentimental. i’ve been told many great things over the years and i am sincerely lucky for all of them.

one of the most profound, though, was Bob Clampett’s daughter, Ruth, commenting this on my tribute to The Great Piggy Bank Robbery (and yes i’m posting the screenshot because i still can’t believe it!!)

i’ve been lucky to have been told MANY nice things.. but i don’t think a single comment has ever made me bawl like a baby more than that one LOL. i still get emotional thinking about it! it reminded me of how eternally lucky i am to be doing what i am.

21. Weirdest thing you’ve ever drawn?

THERE’S QUITE A VARIETY TO CHOOSE FROM.. i have “i was on deviantArt when i was 11” syndrome so that spawned a lot of. interesting things. i truly could not narrow it down.. but i immediately thought of this one so. i don’t know what it means or who this is either

thanks for the asks!!

[21witnokidz]

IN THE GHETTO

Chapter 15

“First you attach some bait onto your fishing rod. The fish like worms the best”

“First you attach some bait onto your fishing rod. The fish like worms the best”

“And then you swing it over your shoulder and yank it into the water”

“And then you swing it over your shoulder and yank it into the water”

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you repeating everything I say?”

“Because Arthur. I can’t trust you to teach John how to fish since I fear you’re gonna end up drowning him again. I’ll feel better if it was me telling him the instructions instead of you”

“Yea you got bad luck with teaching people stuff remember?” John teased.

“Pipe down you little squirt!”

“I remember when I would fish with my dad every Sunday. Those were the best times” you said in reminiscence.

“My papa wasn’t no good” Arthur said.

“Mine neither” John joined in. “What are we gonna do today anyway?”

“We’re gonna get you a haircut that’s what” you said picking up one of his locks.

Speak of the devil. Bessie came and called John over. “John come over here and get your haircut. You need a good scrubbing too!”

“No! I’m fishing, it can wait”

“I said right now!”

John forced his fishing line out of the water and stormed up the hill to get his haircut and bath. Leaving you and Arthur alone.

“Finally. It’s like we never got any peace and quiet since we brought that brat here”

“He learns fast though it’s nice having him here”

“Yea and you’re so kind to give him a second chance instead of beating him senseless like you would do with anyone else” Arthur leaned over and kissed you.

You kissed him back and soon it turned into a full heated make out session. “I love you Arthur” “I love you too”

Then he pushed you off him and grabbed your face. “Listen y/n. I know we’re getting so close to avenging your family but when we raid the O’Driscolls you need to be careful out there. There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you”

“What is it Arthur?”

“Will you… come with me to get our picture taken?”

“Oh.. ok sure. I never knew that was something you’ve always wanted to do..”

Arthur cursed himself. He told himself he was gonna propose right there but chickened out. He bought that ring 8 years ago and he still hasn’t gathered enough courage to pop the question. He could tell you were expecting him to propose there too.

Arthur tried to convince himself that maybe he just wasn’t ready to get married yet but he knew that wasn’t the case. He wanted to marry you more than anything. Deep down he was insecure. You guys never talk about the mansion incident but he always thought about it.

Thought about how if he handled those men quick enough you wouldn’t be in that position to almost being hurt. He knew you would say yes but he just wanted to make himself better for him to feel comfortable calling himself your husband. Your life partner.

But also he knew that they were gonna do something risky soon and that people could get hurt. Or even die. So if you or him were to die. He’d want one of you to have something to look back on.

Arthur decided a portrait would be prefect.

-

You and Arthur rode into town and got off your horses. When you got off Arthur could see that some blood had leaked through your dress.

“Y/n uhh.. you might wanna take care of that”

You looked down to see the mess on your dress that you wanted to wear for the portrait.

“No! I wore this dress specifically for the picture”

“It’s fine. Just stay here. I’ll buy you a new dress. A prettier one”

Arthur ran into the clothing store and bought the most expensive dress he could find. He’s really gotta stop spending so much money on you.

He let you put it on and it fit perfectly.

“You sure you wanna get the picture while on your period? We could always wait” Arthur secretly hoped that you would still go with it just so that he wouldn’t have to wait after the ambush.

“Yea it’s fine let’s go”

You two entered the photo studio and the man welcomed you two.

“Oh what a lovely couple. You two lookin to take a picture?”

“Yea how much will it be?” Arthur pulled out his wallet.

“Arthur no I’ll pay”

“Don’t worry I got it. How much mister?”

“7 dollars”

“Seven? My god inflation is crazy these days” Arthur pulled out a five and two dollars bills and handed it to the man “it better turn out good”

You and Arthur browsed the different backgrounds you could choose from and decided to go with the starry night one. Arthur said he liked it because it made him think of the art history book Bessie made him read a while back.

“Hey Picasso did that one right?”

“No Arthur that’s Van Gogh”

“Van go where?”

“No the artist’s name was Van Gogh”

You two picked a pose you liked the best and Arthur insisted on you sitting on a chair while he put his hands on your shoulders.

“Ok now scrunch up your faces for about 2 seconds and release. That way your faces will look more fresh in the picture” the photographer instructed.

He went under the cover and pressed the button. You weren’t expecting what taking a picture would be like but you weren’t expecting for a flash to almost blind you.

“Hey wait I think I closed my eyes can we redo it?”

“No don’t worry you look perfect. Let me just go develop these for you. I’ll be right back”

The photographer went into a room to get the picture ready.

“So what’ya think? Would you want to get another one sometime in the future?”

“Maybe. I just wasn’t prepared for that flash”

The photographer came out with your picture ready. “Well here it is it’ll take an extra dollar for me to frame it”

“I always knew these picture industries were cheap” Arthur grumbled, still he handed the man an extra dollar.

You and Arthur walked out with your new picture in your hands. It actually did look good.

“What do you wanna do now?” Arthur said with his hand on your hip.

“I think I’m in desperate need of some chocolate”

Arthur took you to a candy store and when you guys were about to walk in there you saw a dog sitting outside.

“Hey there buddy” you went to pet the dog “yea you’re a good boy ain’t ya? Where’s your owner?”

“The dog has no collar. I don’t think he has one”

“Well we can’t just leave him here” you went to pat the dog again “we can’t just leave ya here can we boy?”

“You wanna take him back?”

“I don’t know if Dutch’ll let me”

You stood up and began walking towards the store but the dog followed him.

“See he likes me. Forget the candy I’m gonna buy him some food. His ribs are showing”

You bought the dog some raw meat and he went chewing away on it. Arthur had to admit the dog was cute but still he still didn’t know if Dutch will allow it. Seeing you interact with the dog was just so cute to Arthur though. The way you petted it and treated it with love. Makes him think about how you would be with a baby.

“I got it. We’ll name him Copper”

“Ok fine let’s bring him back and see what Dutch thinks”

You and Arthur rode back to camp on your horses while copper ran beside y’all. It looked like he was happy to be running freely now that he had some food in his belly.

“Alright copper! You were ready to start running huh boy? Let’s introduce you to the folks!”

-

“What the hell is that!? Get it out of here!” John screamed and jumped on the table.

“Get down from there boy! Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little dog” Bessie pulled John down from the table. “Y/n who told you you could just bring a mutt in here”

“His name is Copper”

“He’s gonna give us fleas!” John screamed.

“You probably already got some!”

“What is all the commotion? Whenever y/n and Arthur come back from somewhere they’re always bringing something new back. What is it this time?” Dutch intervened.

“Y/n brought a dog” Arthur explained. “We can keep him right?”

Dutch sighed.

“Listen son. It’s one thing bringing a malnourished thing into our camp” “Hey!” John said offended.

“But a dog. It could give us all fleas!”

“He’s not gonna cause trouble Dutch please” you pleaded.

“I said no and that’s final”

[seitmai]

“I was so hungry. I couldn’t wait. But you gotta get in on some of this.”  Jake says enthusiastically, practically mid bite. He raises his dish toward you in offering, megawatt smile aimed directly at you.  That smile that melts you, the real one you’ve grown to love so much.  

The not being able to wait because he is so hungry is relatable, especially with Thai food, but with that smile of his I would forget it instantly anyway

Nonchalantly, Jake leans over to give you a chaste kiss temple, before returning to shoveling pad thai in his mouth.  You grabbed your noodle dish and dug in. Some action comedy movie had just started playing on your TV. 

Ahhh I love the simple domesticity of this 🥺

Jake glances back up at you for a moment before training his eyes back down.  He can’t bring himself to look in your eyes as he speaks.  He’s afraid of unraveling. 

Who would have thought Jake would be afraid of anything and then it's something like this 🥺     

You close the gap between you two, wrapping your arms around his waist as you look up at him, forcing yourself in his line of sight. His hands cup your shoulders, thumb tracing the ridge of your collarbone. Your eyes meet. The moment lingers.

THE MOMENT LINGERS!!! THEY LINGER!!🥰

He shifts, adjusting upright to remove the article of clothing, and for a moment you admire the view.  In the past three weeks, it hasn’t gotten old.  Jake Seresin is practically a work of art, golden skin pulled taught against athletic muscles that rippled as me moved above you.

An artwork I really wouldn't get tired of looking at 😌🤤

“Never gets old.”  You stroke his ego with the compliment.  Teeth tug his bottom lip as he looks down at you devilishly.  He winks.

Truly a win for everyone 😏😌

“Don’t tease me, please.  Don’t make me beg on what might be my last night alive.”  The words stop you, and your posture drops.  Nervously, you tug your lips into your mouth, biting down. “...Jake.”  Your eyes search for his in the dim room, lit only by the light in the hallway.  The worry on your face is evident. “Hey.  Hey, I’m teasing.  I’ll be alright.”  Jake sits up, shifting you in his lap and taking a gentle hold of your face, eyes finding yours.  You nod, taking a shaky breath in, cracking a smile.  

Their energy and back-and-forth are unmatched

“I’m sorry about what I said.  I didn’t mean to upset you.”  You feel his voice rumble gently through his chest.  “Its okay.  I’m sorry I got emotional.”  You admit sheepishly.  What had gotten into you, anyway? “You must really like being my pretend girlfriend, huh?”  smirking down at you, Jake cocks an eyebrow.

I love how they can joke about the heavier emotional stuff too 🥹

“Hey.  For the record, it was really sweet.  It’s nice to know someone might be worried about me.” “This has been really fun, Jake.”  You say gently.  You mean it. Jake presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you can feel him smile into it. “Yeah, it has, hasn’t it?”  And all you can do is nod.  All you can do is try to make peace with this, and try to enjoy it for what it was.  

It's heartbreaking now that they have built up this great connection they also know their expiration date has come 🥺

“Thanks for putting up with me.  I know I’m a pain in the ass.”  Jake chuckles, and you close your eyes as his body rumbles against yours one more time.  

So bitter sweet 😭🥺

I loved this little series!! Jake really needs someone to put him in his place from time to time and they in the end did it in this beautiful and meaningful way and the connection they had 🥹🥰

The Goodbye (Part IV)

Part of “The Dry Spell” series.  

Warnings: allusions to death, fluff, smut, penetrative PiV sex ,oral (male receiving), some angst, a little of everything I guess.  Minors, this isn’t for you.  18+ only below the cut.  

Part III: The Interruption 

A certain pilot had your head in the clouds. You floated through your work day, feet barely on the ground. Your mind was a steamy haze, the fire of passion meeting the cool water of logic as the thoughts and feelings battled.  Colleagues noticed, but you were able to blame your fuzzy head on a lack of sleep.  Did they even see the timestamp on your deliverable email last night?  They owed you some slack.

Am I falling for Jake?  

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