#but then i fell into the art block hole

[1captainjordan4]

Finally drew something again!!! Silly mumbo and pearl <3 my fav sillies

[kristiliqua]

CHUNSIK MY BELOVEDDDDDD

[roseband]

...

[charaznablescanontoyota]

"marn i missed sgdq 2024 what should i watch"

hi i decided i'm doing another one of these. it's been a minute. this past week was summer games done quick, an annual speedrunning marathon raising money for doctors without borders and also a great way to get into watching speedrunning. a lot of their content is tailored towards being both clearly explained and fun to watch for an audience outside the speedrun community, so you can jump in with basically no knowledge besides “this person is gonna play a game really fast”.

gdq has the full week's worth of vods up as a playlist on their channel, but here are some runs that i personally think you should check out:

ken griffy jr presents mlb by peanut butter the dog: look it's a dog playing baseball. i don't know what else to tell you.

the entire silly block: speedrunners get up way too early in the morning/late at night to play games that feel like a fever dream. some of the commentators are going on 24 hours of no sleep. it's brilliant. my personal highlights of what i've seen so far are stuart little 2, mad panic coaster, city bus simulator race, and the golf it wrong hole only race that the players dressed up as golfers for

alan wake 2 alan%: alan wake clips through walls and generally has a bad time while a bunch of gamers call him a sopping wet catboy. the runner for this one is really charismatic and it's very funny to see staff rushing to open up the pit as soon as we sing starts (yes they do the dance of course they do the dance). i just love joyful runs of horror games man

super mario 64 blindfolded randomizer: what if you played mario 64 blindfolded and also the stars were in completely random locations. and also you had to do it very very fast.

kingdom hearts 2 critical any%: every kh2 speedrun i've ever seen is a work of art and this one is no different. some of the boss fights go down so fast you will literally miss them if you look away for a minute. and also two of my favorite runners are on couch commentary!

balatro showcase: genuinely made me rethink how i'm playing some of the balatro decks. also great commentary and just fun all around despite (or perhaps partially because of) the absolute struggle session going on with plasma deck in the beginning

super mario world kaizo relay: kaizo is a shorthand term for a game hacked to its absolute limits of difficulty that often requires strict precision of movement and can punish the player for thinking they're smarter than it. in this segment, two teams of 4 very very good mario runners race to complete 8 kaizo levels they've never seen before in their lives

mario maker 2 troll level race: i always like the mario maker races for the same reason i like the kaizo relays. i love watching two speedrunners thrown blindly into the shit have to make up strategies on the fly via trial and error (and error, and error, and error, and...)

kirby air ride race: two high level kirby air ride speedrunners race for an actual physical title belt. the trash talk game happening here is of the insane variety that only two very skilled people who truly respect each others' talents at their game of choice can provide

kaizo mario galaxy: what if mario galaxy hated you even more than usual and would stop at nothing to kill you. also most of the commentators are only familiar with the vanilla game and their reactions to the added-in bullshit are hysterical

tony hawk pro skater 1, 2, 3, and 4: i fell asleep watching this and woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of a bunch of people singing superman by goldfinger. good run

super mario rpg remake: this was the finale block and it's just great to see a bunch of people who really really love the original mario rpg get to hang out and talk about how good it is and also watch a world record level player absolutely stunt on the game

halo 3 four-player co-op legendary: dudes rock

[the-ancient-dragons]

EXTRA OVERCOMPLICATED ICEWIIIIINGS

You know how it goes, Joy Ang is cool and I'm not yadda yadda move on.

Details and explanation below!

Otherwise, next week is the last Pyrrhian tribe: NightWings!!!! See you then!

More overcomplicated dragons.

If the RainWings are the design that destroys Joy's work the least, this one takes the original IceWings and tosses them out the window. Going into this design I knew it would be hard, but boy was I unprepared to get art block for 2 months because of it.

I eventually found my inspiration in the girdled, spiny, and horned lizards, They. Are. So. Freaking cool. If you think a crocodile skink is awesome, look up girdled lizards. Not as fancy with the eyeliner but they are SPIKY!

I fell in love in particular with the giant girdled lizard. I knew I wanted the scales of the IceWing to look rough and like they were made of actual ice or diamonds - or covered in frozen sleet and snow - and this lizard was basically perfect inspo for that. Also, blue spiny lizards. They are basically real life IceWings, full stop.

But even though I had perfect references to draw from, I still struggled with the head shape. I wanted them to feel like a reptilian polar bear, which is why I slightly blunted it, but I think I should have gone with a more angular shape instead. I can always change it later when I do their full-body.

I did have a very fun time with the horns, however. I wanted them to be a mix of narwhal teeth and icicles (yes, narwhal 'horns' are actually overgrown teeth. One tooth, usually, but sometimes they can have two!!). Before I get distracted I should explain how they grow: the scales at the base of the horn are constantly growing and essentially create the horn. That's what gives them their narwhal-like spirals.

I chose a similar approach to the neck spikes (untangling that mess was fun, let me tell you. Grids are very useful when doing many scales/spikes). At the base of each one you'll notice a scale forming it. On the back, I wanted to give a good side profile of the spikes. Technically, they are ever-growing, and need to be trimmed or sharpened constantly.

Now, as I was drawing them, I asked myself: why do IceWings need a mane of spikes?

A stupid question, you might wonder, but to me it's very important. Animals look the way they do for survival. So, while it's important visually for the ice theme, how could they be explained scientifically?

And then, when thinking of polar bears, I got my answer.

How the hell does a giant sparkly dragon hunt in the north? Seals would probably be part of their diet, but it's hard to sneak up on them if you're a ten ton reptilian flying creature, so I imagine they would tackle the problem like a polar bear would by waiting by a breathing hole and pouncing at the right moment. They already look like a frozen snowbank, so that part is easy.

But any hungry polar bear would be doing the same thing, and like a giant dragon, they would be waiting downwind of the breathing hole too. They wouldn't pose a threat to adult dragons or dragonets larger than them, but in real life polar bears are dangerous hunters and prey on humans. Why wouldn't it prey on a dragonet it thinks it can take on? Things in the WOF universe seem to be extra big (or scavengers/humans are tiny) so I think it would be a feasible for a desperate bear to hunt a dragon. They cannibalize, anyway, so going after another apex predator isn't out of the question. In this case, the horns and neck spikes would be a dragonet's saving grace, discouraging attacks from behind and especially on their necks. A bear's teeth could never get through their scales, but they could still crush their airways and choke them, and the spikes would keep them away from their necks and protect them from that fate. As they grow up, the neck spikes' length and strength could be used to determine a dragon's health and help them select good partners.

Finally, continuing with the bear theme: for the scales, I took inspiration from polar bear fur (which is actually hollow) to help design how IceWings preserve their body heat. In polar bears, its used to make them look white by reflecting the light of the sun, but in IceWings it could keep the cold out. Air pockets would create a barrier between them and the outside elements, and whatever gets in would meet their thick layer of fat that does the real warming. Yes, IceWings would be squishy, but you'd probably poke your eye out or stick permanently to their side a la tongue to cold metal pole.

Don't hug IceWings; they're very cold.

[flowerakatsuka]

.*🍀 KUROKARA LORE [ 01 ] — rainy day reunion. 🌹*.

after putting off finishing the art and writing for this post, i finally dump the first major bit of kurokara lore on ya'll — their " first " meeting! i also wanted to include the song i imagine being the bgm for this lore event so please enjoy while you read the post. :3c

SO, i imagine this taking place during the first half of season 2 ( probably around episode 5 since rainy season is during summer in japan. )

their meeting happens one day in june, when karamatsu had decided to make the most of the ( at the time ) sunny weather and gallivant around akatsuka. the previous night hadn’t been the best — with osomatsu eating the pudding he had saved for later, being forced to buy the rest of his brothers snacks when he went to go replace it, and then getting splashed by a car going through a rain puddle on the way back from the konbini. but it was a new day, surely it will be kinder to him with how beautiful the weather was!

well, it seemed like kara’s bad luck from the previous day had decided to linger. everything he had decided to do to enjoy himself that day was not going in his favor ; totoko had already left home to go on a date when he tried to visit, catching only tiny cans and broken sunglasses at the fishing hole, the last croquette being sold to the previous customer. he even tripped and fell in front of the girls he was attempting to flirt with. at this point, he was really starting to wonder if he was cursed or something, but quickly picked himself back up and tried to reassure himself. there was no way this day could get worse, after all.

yeah, it definitely could.

meanwhile, kuroba had just managed to bring in the last of the store’s outside decorations before the rain really started to come down. thankfully, they were lucky enough to spot the accumulating storm clouds early and act accordingly. still, it was strange how suddenly it started raining when there wasn’t anything about it in the weather report that morning. sure, it was rainy season, but the rain really came out of nowhere. before they could get too lost in their pondering about weird weather patterns, they spotted someone walking through the ongoing downpour with nothing to protect them from the rain.

karamatsu was trudging through the rain on his way back home, having already resigned himself to whatever divine punishment he had brought on. it took him a moment to notice the shadow that had overtaken him and blocked the rain, only really coming to when a concerned voice called out to him.

kuroba handed him a towel to draw himself off with and suggested he wait out the rain in their shop ; walking around in rain like that wouldn’t be doing himself any favors, after all. taking them up on their offer, they let karamatsu in and excused themself into the back for a moment. while wandering around the shop, he wondered why he hadn’t remembered there was another flower shop in akatsuka... Until he recognized the shop’s name : yotsubana florals.

he definitely remembered passing by there in the past and being greeted by the kind granny that ran it before. kuroba overheard him wondering aloud if they had sold the shop and cleared some things up for him. they’re actually the previous owners’ grandchild, having taken over the store’s ownership and daily operations not too long ago after their grandmother’s passing and grandfather’s ( forced ) retirement. with things clarified, they directed karamatsu to a spot in the shop where he could relax while he waits out the rain and handed him a cup of tea to help warm him up.

much to his delight, it ended up being his favorite.

kuroba struck up a conversation with karamatsu while they continued their work and the two hit it off pretty quickly. their chat bounced from topic to topic and, in spite of him lulling back into his usual casanova shtick, they both seemed to have plenty of fun talking with each other. so much so that karamatsu hadn’t realized how much time had passed when he noticed that the rain was starting to let up.

he decided that it’d be best for him to head out despite there still being light rain, which kuroba had some objections to.

after being told to be careful and sent off with a wave goodbye, karamatsu started to head back home. he couldn’t help but wonder if his luck was starting to turn around while looking at the clover-patterned umbrella.

a week or two passes after that and it’s rained a few more times since then. unfortunately for kuroba, their umbrella still hadn’t been returned yet. it was a shame, they’ve had that umbrella for a long time, ( and they were being genuine when they said they’d like to chat more with the person they helped, ) but there wasn’t much that could be done about it. at least, there was a bit of reprieve from the frequent rain that day.

just as they had finally resigned themself to getting a new umbrella, the shop’s door opened with a jingle and a familiar face entered with much more bravado than he had before. karamatsu was ready to put on the best casanova act he’s got, this could be the first beautiful chapter of his own sweeping love story, after all. he explained that a mild fever had kept him from coming back sooner, but assured kuroba that it wasn’t a result of the other day by going “ it seems not everyone shares your stunning kindness, “ and leaves it at that. ( really, he tried seeing if he could get something like his meeting with kuroba to happen again by standing out in the rain with. obviously poor results. )

while he came to return kuroba’s umbrella, he also hoped to return the kindness of his ✨ rainy day savior ✨ and, well, what’s a better way to show that than by showing patronage.

yeah, he really didn’t think that all the way through. karamatsu quickly perks back up when they tell him they were just teasing and would be happy to make up a bouquet for him, especially if he’s willing to stay and chat…

AND THAT’S ALL I’VE GOT! sorry that this took me forever to finish, so many different things kept on getting in the way. but i’m really happy to have some more kurokara lore out now, i’m hoping i can get some more out soon. >;3c

[selfloverrrrrr]

A nanami smut..where he is all stress of work and wants 2 calm him down but don't know how 2...(other part...so yaga got some new instruments delivered in his office and yaga told them not to press anything or get close 2 the machines and gojo being gojo ignored it and sneaked in and started exploring the things..later his butt pressed a button and it created a blackhole in readers universe and it sucked her in..but it didn't show any sign of wht happen at gojo and he thought tht nothing happened and left the place..reader got teleported in nanami's apartment..and when he entered his house he saw a goddess...a freaking beautiful..great body woman in his apartment..and it's cause his erection to grow hard fast...and boom he loses his mind and is eager to calm and release..and the fun began

Universal travel

Warning: Smut, unprotected Sex, rough sex, teasing, anal sex, nipple play, blow job....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

"why isn't he here after calling me here?!" Gojo whined in Yaga's office. "Nvm... atleast I can see his dolls collection" he said and started walking into the office. He was watching those dolls. "Huh y'all can't do anything to me.... because I'm the strongest" he said and started laughing.

While laughing he sit on the table. He didn't noticed that there was something on the table. After sitting he realised. "Fuck what was that" he said. "Shit... did I pressed any buttons?" He said looking at the machine with some buttons. "Well my sexy ass did something but I don't know what it did and.....nvm nobody's gonna know" he said to himself.

In y/n's universe y/n's POV

I just washed my face and came to bed. I was about to go sleep. I was checking my phone before going to sleep. Suddenly I heard a sound from my back. I turned around. The wall in front of me was kinda shaking. I got confused and went closer to it. Suddenly a hole came from nowhere and I got shocked. Before I could react...it sucked me in and the portal closed.

I screamed. But then I fell on somewhere. I slowly opened my eyes. Where was I? I was in a house. But this house isn't mine! Who's is it? I went up. I was still wearing my night dress. I heard the sound of door unlocked. I slowly followed the sound. It was coming from the main door.

When I went there. I saw a blonde man. "Umm... excuse me?" I said. The man turned around. "Who are you?" He asked. My eyes widened. Am I seeing the right thing?! Is it...is it Nanami Kento?! "What!!! There's no wayyyy" I said. "What are you saying.... and who are you?" He asked.

"wait wait wait... what's your name?" I asked. "Nanami Kento" he replied. "Ohhhhh myyyyyy GODDDDDD..... I knew it!!!! I knew it was you" I screamed. "You know me? Can you explain to me what is happening?" He said. We sat on the couch and I explained everything to him.

"so you mean you know me?" He asked. "Of course I do" I replied. "And you're telling me that I'm famous there?" he asked again. "YESSS.... too much famous!!!" I replied. "And people do my fan art as they want?" He asked. "Yes...they are cool" I replied. "I see" he said. "Yeah " I replied. "Nude arts?" He asked. "Yeah a lot- I mean no!!! I don't know!" I replied.

He smirked. "Why are you blushing?" He asked. "I'm not" I said and tried to cover my face. "Do you want me to pull your hair and whisper good girl in your ear?" He asked. I stared at him with doe eyes. He pulled me on his lap. "Come on... I won't mind to please my fan...since you're gorgeous too... just said yes" he said. "Do. You?" He asked. "Y-yes" I replied. "Good girl" He said and pressed his lips on mine.

He kissed me roughly. Making me breathless. He slowly took off my top but he didn't took off my bra. He pulled out my boobs from it and I gasped. Then took off my bra. He teased and started playing with my nipples with his tongue. I moaned slightly. Nanami smirked.

He slowly put his hand in my panties. he rubbed my clit and I gasped. " Your pussy is fucking wet darling" he whispered with a smirk. Then took off my panties. He got up and took off his shirt while starting at my pussy. Then he again came near to my face and kissed me. I heard a unzipping sound and when looked down saw Nanami was stroking himself.

He lined himself with my pussy. He slowly pushed himself in. I grabbed on his shoulder taking deep breath. He give me some time to adjust it. Then he slowly started thursting in and out. He started increasing the speed. I was a moaning mess. He was so huge. His dick was touching my deepest parts. "Oh god ...ohhh my god" I moaned. His speed became faster and harder. I dig my nails on his back. My pussy clenched around him tightly. He stopped and pulled out.

My legs were shaking. He smirked and flipped me. Now I was lying on my stomach. He reached for my ass and spanked me harshly and pushed his whole length inside me again.

He grabbed my hair and pulled it. "Good girl" he whispered in my ear. He thursted in and out roughly. I was moaning his name repeatedly. After a few minutes I came. My walls clenched around him tightly. " G-god... You're so tight... F-Fuck...." He moaned. His pace became faster and faster. Rougher and rougher. Harder and harder. Then he finally came.

"I'm sorry... fuck... I'm gonna buy you pills tomorrow" Nanami whispered and fell beside me. "It's fine " I replied. "Whatever universal shit happened today... I'm thankful to god that it happened " he said and I giggled.

Give me your requests guys...

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[cloverdaisies]

# ART CLASS 𝜗𝜚𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

JI CHANGMIN x reader

˗ˏˋ description:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : your crush on your art professor might be affecting your grades, he was just perfect but you’re just a student. how you accidentally fell in love with art class for the wrong reasons…

˗ˏˋ genre:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : fluff, unrequited to lovers.

˗ˏˋ word count:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : 5.5k+

˗ˏˋ notes:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : this was once 10k+ but oops, is a bit of an indulgent fic i can’t lie, i hope you love it as much as i do, so here’s some changmin brainrot to feed ur delusions, massive thank you to @juyeonszn for helping me get over my plot blocks, ily. proof reading in progress!

Mondays, the worst day of the week. That was for certain, considering you had a two hour class that morning with a professor that would draw over your weeks worth of work with sharpie. Thankfully, he’d already announced his leave and you wouldn’t had to deal with that anymore. Every morning you’d get the bus to university dreading the next class, headphones on trying to drown out thoughts of how you were going to survive your degree in these insufferable conditions.

“Today you have a lesson with your new professor, who’ll be taking over for me. He’s very well educated and I’m sure he will be able to fill in the gap after my leave.” Your old professor rambled on as if his low marking and reckless actions with felt tip pens would be missed.

You weren’t necessarily paying attention, more focused on your pencil work in the sketchbook than you were on the front of the class. Ears suddenly perking up at the voice you heard from the front of the room, it was a cuteish tone, at the same time mellow and calm - a voice that could put you to sleep that sat just on the right octave to make you fall in love with it.

“Hello everyone, I’m professor Ji and will be taking over the introduction to Fine Art module going forward. I look forward to getting to know you all and seeing your work. Today we will be starting a new project for your mid term evaluations, it will be a multimedia piece with a theme of your choice. Make it mean something, do what’s true to you.” Professor Ji stated, already he sounded as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. It was a breath of fresh air and his intellect was almost making you dizzy.

No y/n, you can’t be getting a crush on your professor this can only end in tears if you find out he’s already happily married and settled in life.

“Any questions?” He asked looking around the room with his thick black rimmed glasses, leant against the wall with his hands clasped in his blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“Are you married?” Someone asked from the back of the room triggering a boisterous laugh to break out across the classroom.

Professor Ji sighed and rolled his eyes, clearly contemplating his response a bit taken a back by the question. Especially in a university classroom, where everyone’s an adult, it was such a high school question, but who could blame them for asking?

“Do I look that old to you?” He responded with a chuckle, holding a hand over his chest like wound had opened over his heart. Oh and he’s funny. This literally couldn’t get any worse, he just seemed perfect.

After that the class began to start their projects, however for some reason you just couldn’t overcome the creative block in your mind on what to do. As you were sat twiddling your pencil and scratching out ideas in your planner you felt a presence appear behind you.

“Struggling?” Professor Ji appeared over your shoulder with his hands behind his back, briefly looking down at your empty page before back at your embarrassed expression.

“I guess you could say so.” You laughed as if you were begging for hole in the earth to collapse and swallow you into non existence. You watched as he smiled sympathetically thinking of a way to help you, dragging a stool and bringing it closer to your workspace. He’d done this to every student, going around to check on your progress unlike your previous professor who didn’t really care less.

“Let’s see.” He scratched his head for a moment, tapping his pencil on the table. “What are you interested in?”

You blushed internally, the question on completely professional terms but almost sounded like something someone would ask on a first date - at least in your delusional state of mind.

“Well I usually focus on work that expresses feeling, like this piece I did on stress.” You showed him a previous piece of work you did for the class, the abstract work compelling him to the phone screen.

“This is really creative. I love the way you used colour here, it’s abstract but so detailed. I think you’ve definitely found a style there —” He paused for a moment realising he didn’t know your name.

“Y/n.” You slightly smiled at him, trying to make yourself seem less like an awkward mess in front of him or mask the fact, that you totally weren’t staring at him the entire time he’d been looking at the phone.

“Y/n. I definitely won’t tell you what to do! But something similar will definitely have you sailing through this module.” He smiled, the cute line peaking at his dimples which could of had you squealing right there like some sort of wild animal.

As he walked over to the next table you couldn’t help but wish he’d stayed longer, his presence was unfortunately addicting. It’s the way his eyes lit up seeing your work, his passion for his work, his intellect, his welcoming aura, it had you in some sort of chokehold you hadn’t felt in years.

You took his words on board, an idea suddenly crossing your mind in a quick flash. Sure it wasn’t the best idea considering your current situation, but all the emotions you’d depicted so far were negative. Something within you was scratching at your brain to illustrate the feeling of the fear of love, knowing you were good at painting the feelings you genuinely felt.

Beginning to map out your idea in your planner, the new wave of creativity certainly didn’t go unnoticed by your professor as he looked over at you working away with a smile.

Then you hit a wall. You didn’t like using anything other than acrylic paint, every other form of media just for some reason seemed to irk every single creative bone within you.

“Any progress?” Professor Ji passed your table for the last time, as the lesson would soon be drawing to a close.

“Yeah I have an idea. However, I hate working with anything other than acrylic.” You expressed, your ears turning a bright pink as he grazed your arm to take a look at your planner.

“Well I think this is a great idea.” He laughed politely, readjusting his glasses with a light push. “I’d love to discuss this more thoroughly in office hours with you, if you’d be up for it?”

“Sure. When?” You asked completely composed, your mind rattling through ideas for the piece whilst trying to block out any thoughts of the man next to you. He smiled for a moment, flicking through your scribbled notes with a pen.

“Today, 5-6pm. Think of the things you want to discuss before attending and I’ll be happy to help. It seems you’re a really talented artist. You just need a push in the right direction.” He replied, his friendly register doing nothing to help you out of the sick spiral you were falling down. You smiled as he walked off to the front of the classroom to close the lesson, unable to pay any focus to the words falling from his mouth as you flipped around your ballpoint pen and chewed nervously down on your lip - the venom of adrenaline circulating your body like a wildfire from the interaction.

The class began to pack their things, snapping you out of your silly nightmare daydreams packing your sketchbook and planner. You pushed your pencil behind your ear, planning to pack it away into your pencil case at some point but not necessarily revising that idea. You slung your bag over your shoulder with a sigh, about to leave door without looking back, your bed awaits.

“Don’t forget to sign your attendance guys.” Professor Ji pointed to the clipboard on the back of the door greeting everyone on the way out with a warm smile.

You quickly went to check your bag for the loose pencil you could have sworn you just had, not remembering where you’d placed it, frantically searching the bottom of your bag for it not fussing to open the case of pens in front of you.

“Are you looking for this?” Professor Ji, took the pencil from behind your ear with a chuckle. Thankfully, being the last to leave was on your side today, no one seeing the god awful embarrassment on your face.

“Thank you, that’s so stupid of me. Sorry.” You laughed off the embarrassment, grabbing the pencil from his hand and signing your name on the sheet as he continued to laugh. “Stop laughing.” You looked over to him, holding back your own giggles as he only laughed more.

“Sorry I can’t help it. See you later y/n.” He chuckled as you left the classroom with a idiotic smile glued to your lips, the door closing behind you. You could have screamed right there and then due to the shear torment of embarrassment.

As soon as your head hit your pillowcase, the room felt as if it was spinning, so many thoughts drowning that brain of yours they were turning it into nothing but mush. You felt your eyes shuttering closed, slumber gradually taking over your body.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

The persistent beeping of the alarm on your bedside table triggered you to rise from your nap like something out of the walking dead. You could have used more sleep, but you seriously needed to attend Professor Ji’s office hours otherwise your project was never going to be finished.

You got ready, your head clouded with looking good for your literal university professor. You shook those thoughts out your head fairly quickly before sliding into your boots and setting off out the door. The winter semester brought in dark nights, it was cold outside, so cold you could see your breath in a thin smoke as you waited at the bus stop.

Presenting your pass to the driver, thoughts circulated your head like a manic steam train running a track as if it was the F1 , you can’t fall for your prof, it would only end in tears when he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings. Staring into the steamed windows of the bus out on the dark night, you sighed the faint sound of music playing through your headphones as comfort.

You pressed the stop button, nervously making your way down the bus aisle as it came to a halt. Making your way to the arts building on campus, you inhaled an anxious sharp breath before reaching the hallway of offices. The office still had your old professors name engraved in a silver board on the front of the door, hesitantly you knocked awaiting an answer. The door handle turned, your stomach flipping and performing handstands.

“Y/n, come in.” Professor Ji smiled, walking into the office with a confident stride, the place littered with boxes seemingly needing to be unpacked. The office was lit warmly with a lamp stood in the corner behind the desk. He sat in a spinning chair at the polished desk nearly placed towards the centre of the room.

“So explain your plan.” He leant forward as you sat in one of the chairs opposite him, you pulled out your portfolio the chunky folder highlighting a collection of your previous projects.

“So, since I’ve done a lot of work on emotion, I thought I’d tackle something more complicated. So I wanted to do the fear of falling in love.” You explained showing him a colour palette you put together in class, it showed colours from a deep scarlett red to a sapphire blue. “The only issue is I don’t know how to use any other media than acrylic.”

“Hmm. So you’re a painter?” He asked watching you nod before beginning to speak again. “Have you ever tried oil paint?”

“Only briefly, I don’t really have the funds to buy oil paints though.” You laughed, thinking the suggestion was silly considering how expensive oil paints could be on your student funds.

“Thought so, that’s why I’m offering you use my resources for this project. Here.” He pushed a set of untouched oil paints across the table, as if they’d just been bought. You looked at him with confusion, you thought this had to be too generous, you’d never had any teacher care so much about their students.

“I mean thank you so much but why?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the gift, it wasn’t necessarily too expensive nor was it meant anything but a professional proposal.

“I know what it’s like to be a student. Plus, someone like you could really benefit from it, your work with acrylic is to not be transitioned into oil paint.” He passed on a genuine smile, a smile that radiated a positive energy you’d never felt. You looked down at them, still in a state of shock he’d go out of his way to buy such a thing for you. “I was also thinking, since 1 to 1 mentoring is setting back up with the new semester, would that be something you’d be interested in? I happened to stumble across your notes from your old professor and he noted you seemed very stressed with your work load.”

“Yeah that’s true, but I can handle it!” You tried to smile, however upon hearing the comments you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed in front of the likes of Professor Ji and his intellectual level in art. It felt as if you were being told you were slacking or left behind. “I don’t think I need any extra help.”

“Are you sure? I mean when I was in your year I also went through 1 to 1 mentoring for the same issue. I wasn’t always at the level I am now.” He sympathised with you, trying to catch eye contact as you looked down at the table.

“Okay. I guess it can’t hurt.” You sighed, still avoiding the glare of his brown eyes across the table, a silence lingering as the grandfather clock ticked on in the background.

“That’s great to hear. So it will be out of university grounds. Purely because the university won’t let me book a space in the week, I was thinking maybe a café? Of course on a completely professional basis, there’s a few other students needing the extra help too. I’ve got one more slot, are you free Wednesday at 10am?” He rambled on slightly, the thin biro in his hand hovering over the page beneath him. He pushed up his glasses and looked at you expectantly, your many thoughts being interrupted by his gaze.

“Uh, yeah that’s my day off so I guess.” You replied with a shrug, sitting back in the chair as you watched him messily scribble in his planner. “Do you have any pieces you’re working on at the minute?” You had no idea why you asked him, however something in you was desperate to ask.

“I’m just doing research at the moment into the baroque period, I would love to have the time do a piece of my own. It’s been a while.” Prof Ji seemed happy you asked, a small grin lighting up his cheeks as he spoke about it.

“Hopefully you can clear some time soon, I’d love to see what you make yourself.” You laughed, almost forgetting you were in a professional space as you let the words slip from your lips.

“Agreed. You’re free to go, see you on Wednesday morning.” He concluded the meeting politely, seeing you out the warm lit room through the tall chestnut door.

“See you then.” You replied, feeling heat rising to your cheeks as you noticed his arm over you keeping the door open, thoughts spinning through your dizzy head feeding your delusions like a sickly candy.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

After then, every other class had you spacing out with a mind full of Professor Ji, thoughts of his paint covered glasses, rolled up shirt sleeves, sweet smile and messy short hair. You often smiled to yourself, the words of every other prof passing through one ear and out the other - drowning softly into the background of your daydreams.

Wednesday seemed like a century away, you found your weekend dragging by Monday felt like an entire week and so did Tuesday. The night before, you’re sat planning your outfit as if you were going somewhere incredibly important the next day. Scrolling tiktok to cancel out your nerves for the next day, although it wasn’t a date, it was a completely professional meeting. You couldn’t shake the thought of it being a café setting, somewhere where you’d get to know someone for the first time, somewhere where you’d ask someone their hobbies, stare at each other across the table- you were getting carried away, but how couldn’t you?

The weather was on your side the next morning, the sun shining through your small apartment building window, the temperature outside not too warm but not too cold either. You carefully got dressed into the clothes you picked the night before, fixing your appearance in the mirror with a smile. Hopefully the effort wouldn’t look strange to him, after all you weren’t trying to look like the weird student with the crush on the teacher, nooooo that’s not you! It was and you couldn’t deny it.

You couldn’t help but twiddle your thumbs on the bus towards campus, palms coating themselves in a thin layer of sweat, your stomach churning in anticipation. You thanked the driver, walking towards one of the many on campus café where you’d agreed on meeting. It was a sunny day, therefore a considerable amount of people had taken to having picnics on the campus green, most opting to sit outside the café with their iced drinks and books.

You spotted him immediately, sat on one of the small tables with his laptop, scrolling away through his laptop and sipping at his iced latte with pouty lips.

"Hey." You smiled walking up to the chair in front of him with a smile, he returned the smile closing his laptop and putting his drink aside on the table.

"Y/n, lovely to see you. How are things coming alone? Do you want a coffee?" He asked picking up his wallet and signalling towards inside of the cafe.

"I can get my own! And I can't say I've done much, I've been pretty distracted the past few days." You laughed, trying not to be too suspicious or act embarrassing in anyway. He looked at you momentarily, eyes wavering across your outfit and perfectly styled hair.

"You look nice, are you going somewhere after this?" He asked, for the second time heat flooded your cheeks, your ears probably lighting up bright pink.

"No." You didn't know how to respond, if anything you were too stunned to speak, trying to gargle up words out of the jungle rattling in your brain. "I just had some extra time to get ready this morning."

"Glad I'm not keeping you from getting anywhere." He chuckled a mischevious smile on his lips, "I'll get the coffee, what are you wanting?"

"An iced matcha would be nice." You blushed, your voice barely coming out above a whisper as all your dreams of a man all seemed to be coming true. He was so mature but at the same time had a man-child charm, he believed in chivalry and was always there to give you everything you needed. In your sick fantasy, he was your prince, the older man that would save you from the horror of the boys your own age.

As he nodded, politely exusing himself to get your drink, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, reaching to grab it, a text from your roommate lit up the screen. 'Wanna go to the bar tonight?' You hadn't been out in a long time, too busy in work and exams to dare leave your mess of a bedroom: seemingly procastinating work was always more important than your own happiness and social life. 'Sure' You replied, after all you deserved some fun after everything.

Professor Ji returned with your drink, you graciously thanked him and slid your phone back into your pocket. He turned the pages of his planner to the notes about your project he'd written earlier.

"So have you started sketching out your linework yet?" He asked, repeating his little habit where he pushes up the middle of his glasses to the top og his nose since they always slid down slightly everytime he loked down.

"No... Sorry, its been a hard few days. I'm not even sure where to begin." You replied awkwardly, with all the thoughts of him you'd completely forgotten all aspects of the project or the fact it was due sooner than anticipated.

"That's okay, we can always start now, that's if you brought your sketchbook." He laughed lightly, not trying to put you in some pit of self doubt when you were already struggling to hit a pencil to paper.

"Yeah I did actually." You reach to grab your large portfolio bag, grabbing your sketchbook and opening it to the page where your moodboard for the piece was. You had practiced some sketching, feathered lines and doodles scattered across one of the pages. He reached across the table, looking at the drawings with a keen eye.

"Pass me a pencil." He asked, holding out his hand as you gave him one of yours, watching as he began to draw in the corner. "Instead of feathering your lines so much, try to get a firmer line like this so its easier for you to follow the precision of the paint."

He drew the heart balloon you'd drew in the corner, of course in a much nicer way which was soul crushing for you, but you followed his guidance and he nodded in approval. Of course, he could'nt admit it, but Ji himself was feeling some sort of gut feeling, perhaps guilt as he felt himself begin to get nervous around you. He thought it was endearing, the way you followed his movements and laughed nervously when you accidentally made a mistake quicly erasing it. However, he would absolutely never, his self control was a much tougher obstacle to tackle and he wouldn't let it fall for anyone.

You carried on discussing placement and ideas, not long until you had an minitaure layout of the page for your project all sketched out. The hour had flew by, and you almost forgot about your drink, too focused on him and his words to comprehend the time.

"Thanks for today, oh, and the drink, Professor Ji." You began to pack up your things, your pencils going neatly slotting into their case.

"Of course, just call me Changmin by the way, the professor thing is too formal even for a classroom." He felt himself cringing, why would he say that? He did mean it but, it felt even weirder that it was you saying it and not the other students.

As you left, he took off his glasses for a moment palms flattened over his face as his thoughts ran over all the events of the past hour, raking his fingers through his hair. Although he did think everything you did was in some way magical, he understood that he could not loosen the boundary between him being your tutor and you being his student. It simply couldn't happen. Ever. That thought would torment him until you either went away or he had to leave himself.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

For the next few hours, your daydreams had become an even more delusional hell than before. Your memory floated over the fact his hand had touched yours briefly as you handed him the pencil, the warmth of his fingertips lingering over your knuckles. As you grabbed your bag, getting ready to meet your friends you simple’s could not shake the thought of today, the chemistry between you both, the tension. It was all a bit much to handle.

You met your friends at the bar, regardless of the messy state of mind you were in. You got a break from work conversations for once, being able to stay up late and drink as much as you wanted as the sports played in the background of the bar. For the first time you felt as if this was normal university life you were living, however the huge disadvantage of not drinking in a long time is that after a couple of drinks you were irresponsibly and irrevocably drunk.

“Get home safe y/n.” You friend smiled, you two bring the last people in the bar as your roommate and her boyfriend had already left much earlier.

“You too.” You smiled before turning around and trying to walk in a straight line, the narrow alley of the street proving difficult as you accidentally wandered into the wall.

On a late night convenience store trip, trying to shake his irreplaceable thoughts. Changmin couldn’t get a wink of sleep with the pool of guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach at the idea of you. He left the store with a few snacks, figuring if he couldn’t sleep he may as well watch a movie or something to pass the time.

As if the world was against him, he noticed a familiar figure stumbling down the street, sighing as he recognised you, clearly not being in a state where you can get home safe unless you lived extremely nearby.

“Y/n?” Your ears perked up at the familiarly sweet voice. A voice of concern as you looked up to see your professor, Changmin stood in front of you with a glint of worry in his eyes.

“Oh…. hiiiii…. Sorry I must look like a mess right now.” Barely able to string out a sentence you giggled and hiccuped pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Oh goodness… how you’d regret this in the morning.

“Can you get home safely? How much did you have to drink?” He asked frantically, gasping as you almost stumbled over his palms landing on either arm to support your body.

“Yes. You’re so funny…. I just need to get the bus.” You slurred your words going to walk past him, before you were stopped by him blocking your path.

“There’s no buses from here at this hour it’s 3am! I can’t take you home because I’ve drank myself. You can sleep on my couch if you want but if you go to walk home, I’m walking all the way with you.” Changmin stated, watching your eyes light up all giddily as you began jumping up and down.

“OOOO, What does your place look like?!” You squealed the curiosity getting you way too overexcited in the drunken state you were in

“Come on then, you had lectures in the morning you need be more careful.” Changmin let you link your arm into his, despite the berry pink shade rising in his cheeks he hoped you’d wake up in the morning and forget all about the way you were acting towards him for your own sake.

His apartment was a humble excuse for a studio, not too big but not inconveniently small either. There were band posters and some of his original art work hung on the walls across the room where there was space. It was lit warmly, he seemed to hate fluorescence of ceiling lights and much preferred dotting smaller lights with thrifted lampshades around the room.

“You have the bed, I’m gonna stay awake for a while.” He pointed to across the room where his neatly made bed was just waiting to canon balled, the mountain of pillows looking so unrightfully comfortable. You collapsed into the sheets without any arguments, failing to see the relieved smile as he sat down in front of the television.

You soon drifted off to sleep, every little mumble, little breath was heard across the room by him. He struggled to shake the thoughts of you, after all that’s what was keeping him up in the first place. He’d only made his situation worse, he couldn’t fall in love with you no matter how attractive he thought you were. Every time he shut his eyes he saw you, and now you were across the room the thought was haunting him. So he laid across the sofa awake, into the hours of the early morning until he just couldn’t keep them open anymore. Even in his dreams, the pictures of you danced like paintings across his brain.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

Of course leaving your professors house hungover at 8am on a Thursday morning, wasn’t the proudest moment of your life, it certainly was an experience. You’d never been mortified of your own actions, god knows what you said to him, you couldn’t remember blurting anything you shouldn’t of. However as you showed up to your lectures for the next 3 weeks he didn’t talk to you, nor did he help you with your project or take you to any cafés for your mentoring.

Your one to one sessions now took place in his office, to him it was easier to make the difference between love interest and student in there. You could tell the difference, he wasn’t as friendly, he was ice cold and this only made you more embarrassed.

After a few weeks you finally mustered up the courage to ask him.

“Why are you being so different with me?” You asked confidently, watching him avoid making eye contact and ignore the question as if he never heard it. “You owe me an explanation.”

“Do I? I’m just trying to maintain a professional relationship with you.” He shrugged continuing to check through your sketchbook, you couldn’t look at him without beginning to shake, the confidence in your voice wavering.

“What do you mean by that?” You retorted, confused to why that was suddenly so serious, when had HE ever been unprofessional, after all weren’t you the problem?

“I mean what happened those few weeks ago, was wrong. I’m your lecturer nothing more.” He placed his palm on the desk looking at you with a serious glare, eyes wavering suspiciously.

“Changmin?” You were hesitant to ask, “Do you have feelings for me?”

There was silence, you wished you could swallow your words back into your head but you were too late. He stared at you with a panicked expression, then one of disappointment before beginning to speak.

“I can’t Y/n, you’re just a student. You’re my student, I don’t want to lose my-”

He knew he was hurting himself with his own words, it was so clear he’d been pushing himself away from what he wanted and that was you.

You interrupted him with a kiss, it took a moment before he reciprocated standing up straight and pushing your back into the wall behind you. It was passionate desperate, as if every emotion, anger, frustration, love that was so forbidden - he’d just let it go. He couldn’t fight it anymore.

Pulling his face away from yours, you looked at him with teary eyes, all the emotions bursting out as your own feelings began to conflict.

“I’m sorry. That should have never happened.” He quickly backed away, holding his lips. You shook your head violently not able to produce a coherent sentence.

“No. I’m in… I can’t say it. Don’t hate me.” You still couldn’t think of the words, you didn’t want to frighten him or push him away. You were scared he wouldn’t be able to love you back, he’d hold his career over you.

However that singular tear that fell from your eye, was gently wiped away by his thumb. Wrapping his arms around your head and bringing you to his chest. He sat himself on the desk, lifting you on to his knee to comfort you.

“It’s okay, I’m in love with you too.” He whispered into your ear, only causing you to sob more as his own tears were wiped away by a hearty chuckle. “I guess we’ll have to figure out the work stuff before I can fully be able to love you like I want to though."

You smiled up at him in the ambient lighting, as he rocked you in his arms against the warmth of his chest you were content. The dimples in his cheeks sending your stomach swarming with butterflies, as you pushed your glasses up his nose for him.

That’s how you accidentally fell in love with your art professor.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

[maximwtf]

“You should watch out more...”

art: @/thirdchildart on tiktok

Jonathan Sims  x Reader

words: 1020

google docs pages: 2.5

Warnings: Worms, trypophobia (mild), knife, mentions of blood, some spoilers for S1

opening: One of the worms bit you when your attention was elsewhere. It’s quite late, and the only other person still working is Jonathan. He’s the only one you can ask to remove the creature. 

AN// No pronouns used for reader! I was lowkey upset at how small amount of Jonathan fanfics I could find so I guess I’ll make them myself. I’m still getting the hang of personalities so do excuse me if anything is out of character. :”D 

                        “You should watch out more…”

It had happened so swiftly, there had been no time to react or stop it from happening. Once the nauseating creatures had made its way onto the table and close enough to your arms, what was there to be done? The worm had bitten you, and started to bury itself in your forearm. The sight alone was enough to make you gag, but the feeling of the act was something so nauseating it got a scream to leave your body. This specimen seemed to be a little faster than the other ones you had seen before. Disgusting, nevertheless. The scream didn’t alert anyone, not that it could have. There was no one else there to hear it, except for one man. Jonathan Sims, your superior.

The chair at your desk almost fell over from the harsh movement you had made whilst getting up. You didn’t care. What had felt like running, you made your way to his door and knocked on it frantically. You knew he hated when people disturbed him, especially if he was recording. But this must have counted as an emergency. There was no way you’d be able to get the worm out on your own, you were far too panicked. But even apart from that, it would be harder to do by yourself. Your free hand was far too shaky to be of any help.

It felt like the knocks had gone unheard, almost to the point where you had started to think the man must have fallen asleep or was just ignoring you on purpose. Though, just as you were about to open the door even without an invitation to do so, a ‘come in’ called out from the room behind the door. You did so, gladly.

Almost an irritated groan met you when the door behind you closed shut. “What is it?” Called out from the table, he looked tired but reasonably so, it was quite late. You wanted to tell him straight away, but the words were oddly stuck somewhere in your throat. “I got bit.” Was the final result from all the things to tell him that had gone through your mind. You saw his brows furrow, now more serious than irritated, but still somehow he looked to be both? Seriously irritated? No time for that. “The worms, one of them…it bit me and…”  You tried to explain, but the panic in your mind blocked any sensible thoughts from coming through. You pulled the sleeve of the bitten arm up, showing him instead of explaining. Jonathan slid closer to you, still sitting on his chair. He pulled the arm lower to examine it, a look of horror spreading on his face at the sight but he soon hid it. You'd say it was for your sake, but knowing him it was unlikely. “We need to get that out..” He murmured, turning to his desk and opening one of the drawers.

You leaned to sit on the edge of his table, trembling just enough to think standing wasn’t the best option. To your horror Jon pulled out a small knife from the drawer. “Are you serious?!” You asked, shock clear on your face. “If you have better options to suggest, now's the time to do that.” The man murmured, taking an oddly firm hold of your wrist, placing it down against the cool surface of the wooden table. Not that you were going to pull away, but now you couldn’t even if you wanted to. “No, I suppose I don’t…” You bit the inside of your lower lip, looking away from the hole that had formed on your forearm. Jonathan placed the blade around the hole, cutting in. It hurt, there was no way to hide that. No amount of biting your teeth together could have governed the hiss that left you, hands curling into fists to block the urge of pulling away. You knew more damage would have been done if you moved too much. “Stay still.” A harsh murmur that came from Jon. He was focused, but clearly at least a little frightened himself. He wasn’t a brave man, and you knew that. Soon enough he caught it, pulling it out and away. You gagged, not even trying to hide it, trembling as he let go of your wrist. Hand still placed over your wrist. Jon killed the thing, stomping on it after throwing it onto the floor. He'd done it with such emotion, that it almost looks like he has something personal with that specific specimen.

The wound still ached, bled a little from the damage the knife had done. “I’ll bandage it for you…I suppose.” Jonathan spoke after he had made sure that the worm was truly dead, not moving an inch from its resting place. The drawer opened again, a roll of bandages appearing into the archivist’s hands from it. He looked up at you, as if asking to straighten your arm. You did straighten it, he took a hold of your wrist again and pulled you closer. With somewhat careful movements he rolled the bandages on the wound and the hole, hiding them away. “You should watch out more..this isn’t the first day we’ve had these…parasites.” He mumbled while finishing the bandaging. “You shouldn’t even be here this late, leave as early as you can.” He sighed, letting go of your arm. “I know, I’ll be more careful.” You hopped off the table, a little less shaken by now. “In fact…I’ll head out now. I’ll just grab my coat. You could join me?” You asked, walking towards the door, feeling his eyes follow you. “Yes, I suppose…I should get going too.” He took a hold of his coat, hanging it over his arm. You nodded, leaving the door open when you exited the room. You could have sworn he looked more relieved after you left, as if he had been waiting for someone to ask to leave with him. And in all honesty, you doubted you would have left if he hadn't come along. The place was far too eerie nowadays to wander alone.

[solitude4chiron]

I.Visiting a friend

Hobie brown x Black reader

A/n: No smut in this fic but there will be multiple parts later 🤫

———————————————————————— The summer is the best time to be outside in New York. Water balloon fights, pool party’s, blocks playing music that filled the city, crop tops and bikinis. It was like this since you were little, and undeniably there’s no place like home

Tonight you and your friends were cramped in a small hot bathroom doing makeup, hair & all of the above for a party. One girl doing lashes, one girl doing her lip liner, one girl doing her nails & another taking pictures and controlling the playlist

“Y’all my nigga just texted me to come on so let’s start heading out” one of your other girlfriends shouted from in the living room, and after a few minutes everyone was in the car taking videos and lip syncing music  for tonight’s ig story

By the time you walked in you were already unamused. Hood niggas standing in the corner on their phones, other dudes trying to get behind girls and failing miserably, groups of people who looked half awake still trying to dance. So you fell behind and sat at the bar listening to other people’s conversations when a different boy caught your eye 

A tall 6,5 darkskin was sitting on the complete opposite side of the bar on his phone, his wicks were slightly short, and laid down his head that made them shaped almost like an Afro. His jewelry and piercings caught your attention, silver jewelry lining his eyebrows and fingers. Plus the way he dressed was so attractive, different from almost everyone else in the room

While admiring his beauty a airdrop came through your phone with the name “unknowns iPhone” curiously you accepted it 

“Y’kno it’s rude to stare right?”

And while trying to figure out who the person was you felt a shadow towering over you before he sat down

“You like whatcha seeing yeah?”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself lil nigga who is you?” 

“C’mon y’kno who I am, your eyes were burning holes in my jacket. Plus nothing ‘bout me is little and I know you can tell” he replied smirking resting his head on his hand to look at your features more closely 

Immediately you could tell he wasn’t from New York at all by his voice, and though you had made fun of some British accents before. Something about his skin and voice in the dark lighting made him so attractive to you

“Sooo you from?” You said feeling your cheeks getting hot, the aggressiveness in your voice vanished

“New York love, why?”

“Boy your not from New York don’t play wit me right now” you said rolling your eyes

“Yea, I’m from London. Visiting a friend out here right now. Want a drink?”

You both ordered drinks and he said his name was Hobie. You each talked for a minute on each others interests, allowing you both to have a flourishing conversation because surprisingly you both had a lot in common. He had piercings, you did too. You both loved music, spray painting your art and opinions on every wall in your city, and you both also shared love for different types accessories and clothing 

After about an hour he asked if you wanted to go to another spot, just you and him. Your heart slightly froze in anxiety but there was some type of safety in his eyes. So you texted the group chat 

“Hey y’all, met this boy at the bar and he wants to take me to another spot. Keep y’all ringers on”

“Okay girllll !!! Is he fine 🌚”

“Leaving us to get some dick is crazyyyy 😒”

You hopped into his car and listened to the music while hanging your head out the window. You felt a hand on your thigh and you looked at him kind of surprised. You brushed it off when you realized you didn’t mind it at all in the first place 

“Problem luv?” He side eyed you while biting the side of his lip down, focused on the road 

“Nahhh you chillin” you felt his large hand start creeping higher and higher up your thigh while he kept his other hand on the wheel speeding up every time you looked at him. By the time you felt like saying something bold, you were at the spot that wasn’t really a spot. You were at the Brooklyn bridge

“Boy this is not no spot we are on a bridge wtf”

“You trust me?” And before you could say anything he was carrying you in one hand wedding style using his other hand to shoot webs, bringing you to the top of the bridge 

After the rush of literally flying through the air went away. You asked him a few questions 

“What was that?!!”

“Why is there white stuff coming out your arms?”

And before you could ask him your last question he made a stupid joke

“I can make white stuff come out of somewhere else y’kno” he smirked

After smacking him on the back of the head you asked him your last question 

“What made you want to tell me you have super powers? Especially like that..”

After seeing you shivering in your mini tee and skirt, he wrapped his large, heavy pin decorated vest around you and pulled you into his chest with his arm as you both watched the city. Light was escaping from every street. You also realized you probably wouldn’t have experienced seeing this in a lifetime if you didn’t meet him

“Don’t know, there’s something about you I kno’ I can love and take care of. So I’m not sweatin the spider man role right now” he said shrugging then resting his head on yours and playing in the curly ends of your locs 

“You lucky you fine, I would have never even left the bar with any other boy” you said drawing along his stomach and chest feeling how chiseled he was under his shirt 

“Just so you kno we date now” he said

“Boy your stupid it’s only been a few hours” you responded laughing and swinging your feet over the edge of the bridge

“I’m stupid? Yet your running your hands all over my body, yeah right”

Not realizing what you were doing you moved your hands immediately away from him a little shocked at what you were doing 

“I didn’t tell you to stop now did I?”

[natuhcake]

This is an excerpt from my Diapered Errands Novel that I’m writing. Currently 45 pages in. Let me know if you Sissies want me to post more of this on here. I normally post it on Deviant Art

Chapter Four: Fun on the Swings

“Wakey Wakey little one! We’ve made it to the park! Aren’t you excited!”

I looked outside and saw a park with a jungle gym and some swings. It was enclosed in a gate and had a large sign on it. Only ones under age 9 are allowed to play here.

Tiffany looked at the sign and opened the gate latch and walked me into the park. She then closed the gate and latched it shut.

“Here let’s get you on the swing” Tiffany exclaimed.

Tiffany brought me over to the swing set and I quickly hopped onto the swing.

“Silly girl! You act way too young to be on the big kids swings. Let’s get you on those” Tiffany pointed to the baby swings with baby seats on them. They looked too small for me but Tiffany insisted.

“I don’t think I’m going to fit…” before I could finish my sentence she picked me up and placed my two dangling feet into the baby swing. I could tell instantly that I was too big and that’s when she let go of me and with my body weight I fell into the baby seat. Both of my legs went through the leg holes and my diapered bottom squeezed inside.

“See! You fit! Let’s get you in the air”

I could tell that I was stuck in the chair, it was very tight but Tiffany didn’t care. She began swinging me up and down and cooing at me.

“Look at how high you’re going, girly! Why don’t you say “weee” for Mommy”

To not make matters worse I listened to Tiffany and began saying “weee” as she pushed me on the swing.

“Wee, weeee, weeee!!” I yelled! Forgetting where I was

I began to worry, what if someone saw me like this, riding on the baby swing in a Pink Satin Romper, buttoned up the back to the top. Pink Satin Bonnet tied around my next and matching pink Satin Booties and Mittens button on. In addition to my pink pacifier attached to my Romper. I tried to see if I could pull myself out of the seat but I couldn’t. My silky mittens weren’t giving me any grip to pull myself up. I’d pull and pull but they just weren’t gripping enough.

Tiffany stopped pushing after a while and was about to take some pictures.

“Oh shoot! I left my phone in the car, I’ll be right back honey, don’t go anywhere!” She said. Before I could attest she placed my pacifier in my mouth. I began suckling the pacifier while I waited for Tiffany to return. After a few minutes I began to worry and turned around in my seat to see if I could see her in the car. The car was not there, it was not in the spot that she parked in and I couldn’t see her MiniVan anywhere. Luckily the park was empty but I needed to get out of the seat. I quickly began to start pulling myself out of the seat but it was really really tough. I was making some progress and then my grip slipped and I fell deeper into the baby swing seat. I began sweating nervously and I ended up filling my diapers with my lunch along with some warm pee. I continued to clutch to the swing. Just when all hope is lost, I see a car pull back into the parking lot. I couldn’t tell what kind of car it was as the sun was setting and was blocking my view but they pulled into the same place Tiffany did. All of sudden the car door opens and an older man comes out. He has a green jumpsuit on and looks to be the groundskeeper for the park. He has brownish long hair and seems to be coming my way.

More Cumming soon!

[ennoshitas-princess]

The Beautiful Rose

Tobio Kageyama x chubby fem! reader Warnings: Oikawa being forceful to be with you, some swearing, centaur Kageyama, violent scene Synopsis: you are the girl everyone wants to be, and you catch the eye of the king of the court Word Count: 1,612 Hopefully you like it!! This has no spoilers really. Fantasy au (inspo beauty and the beast). Don't read if you don't like violence or triggered with gun shots.

You strolled along the dirt path of the village to go to the market in the little town to get things for your mother and brother.

A shade of a pretty pastel cerulean hovered above everyone's head. The emerald blanket soaked with the morning dew. The light magenta petals of the cherry trees fell like snow in the bleak winter months. The rays warming up the ground below, caused cats and dogs to shut their eyelids tight and take a longer nap.

Basket in hand, you continued to admire your surroundings of the vast beauty of nature.

“Bonjour, monsieur.” You wave to the owner of the stand, filling your nostrils with the sweet aroma of baked goods.

“Bonjour, belle demoiselle.” He replied back.

“What do you have to offer today?” You looked at all the items, making you drool.

You could not help yourself. Just a regular habit you had that continued to occur since you were small. The thought of eating one of these delicious delights, had you wanting to buy the whole stand.

“We have bagels, cookies, baguettes, loafs of bread, and cake.” He pointed them out.

“I will take these and the baguettes.” Your hand hovered over the cookies.

“Ah, your sweet tooth demoiselle, non?”

“Oui, monsieur!”

“À plus tard!” You wave to the baker.

“Salut!”

You walk off to bump into none other than the throb of the town, Touru Oikawa.

With a sigh, you shift to your left to continue with your errands, but stopped by him moving to his right to block. You move the other direction, and he does the same thing.

“Hey umm… Oikawa-”

“Please y/n, you know we are meant to be. Call me by my first name.” He pulled you close to his lean body.

“Look Oikawa, I cannot figure out any other way to express this. I do not like you romantically at all.” You bluntly shove him away.

His blood boiled at the remark, not knowing how much you mean to him. If he got with you, everyone in the village would be jealous about your relationship. Making him look greater and grander, even more than Alexander building one of the biggest empires in history in a short amount of time.

“Look y/n, you know how much-”

Before Oikawa could finish his sentence, you left him rambling to himself. In embarrassment, he stormed off, yelling, “well y/n, we all know you hang out with a monster.”

Oikawa, being himself, just let you be.

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Well, Oikawa wasn't wrong about what he said earlier that day. Everyone viewed him as one, but you saw his flaws as beautiful pieces of artwork in a mural in an art museum.

You go over to the forest to visit your friend, Tobio Kageyama. The hut just beneath all the dead trees, just decaying and bald. Flowers on the sidelines wilted from the lack of sunshine. The straw roof had a massive hole. So whenever it rained, poor Kageyama’s house got soaked.

You knock at the almost deteriorated wooden door. Just with your subtle touch, the door fell on the creaking floor with a thud, spooking the horned centaur.

Dashing towards the door, he saw your plump figure at the entrance.

“Oh, it's just you y/n.” He sighed.

“Yes, it's just me, Tobio. Look, I went to the market and got some things for you to eat. I got cookies, bread, some fresh produce, and guess what I brought?” You give him the basket.

“What did you bring for me?” He reached for it, his hand brushing against your soft tiny one.

Pulling the cold item out, he smiled.

“Y/n, you brought milk!” He shouted with joy.

“Of course I did. When you are happy, I am happy.”

The centaur picked you up and spun you around twice, hugging your soft curves. You were a cute plush for him of course. If someone bad happened to you, he would find a way to save or protect you.

You strolled along the river bed calmly, as the birds sang their song peacefully. The flow of the river brought some type of relief from Oikawa’s six hundredth proposal.

As you walk, you spot a rock to rest on. When you sat down, you heard a lot of rustling in the bushes. Frightened, you got up and started to run away.

“Wait, don't run… I didn't mean to scare you. Of course someone as pretty and kind hearted as you would rush back home.” A male voice sounded disappointed.

You inch towards the male slowly, awaiting to be attacked. When you look at the man closer, you see him hiding behind the shrubs.

“Umm… how dumb of me. I should introduce myself. My name is Kageyama, Kageyama Tobio. What is yours?” He still hid.

“Nice to meet you, mine is l/n y/n.” You tell him as you go where he hid.

“That is a pretty name for a pretty lady like you. I mean, well you are just pretty because you are a human- shit!” He snapped.

“Wait, come out of the bushes. I am curious about what you meant about me being a human. Are you one?” You raise a brow.

Clopping towards where you stood, you soon begin to realize he was not a human. He came out being a centaur. The thought of you running away came across poor Kageyama's mind, but surprised that you stayed in place, examining him closely with shining e/c eyes.

“You seem very fascinating! How did you-”Before you could finish that question, he replied with all honesty.

“I was put under a spell because of how I used to treat others in my village when I was king. I ran away and now, no one is ruling my kingdom.” He rubbed the back of his head.

You stare into his ocean eyes for a long time. Just as you were in a trance, he too was in one. Charmed by your squishy body, not knowing what to say or do, he randomly said, “wanna be friends?!?”

You break eye contact, blushing, “yeah!”

You two walked inside of his cottage to snack on the little treats.

○◐❀❀❀❀❀❀◑○

As you finished your snacks, a rustle in the bushes could be heard by Kageyama. He galloped towards the shrubs.

“Bam, bam, bam!”

You heard the gunshots from inside. Rushing out of your seat, you saw Kageyama on the dirt ground, breathing heavily. You turn your head up slowly from the centaur, only to meet up with brown eyes.

“Oikawa! Why would you shoot him?” You ran towards him and wept.

“I only did it for you, y/n. I bet he had you captured and under some mind game of his, only to keep you from me.” He reached for your arm, only for you to shake it off aggressively.

“I don't like you! As a matter of fact, I hate you!” You scowl at him.“I did it all for-”

“I don't care! I want you to leave me alone. I don't want you near me in any way. I am in love with him and you think I will love you after shooting him?” Your voice boomed throughout the forest.

Oikawa's mouth formed a small circle, opened from the news you gave to him. He couldn't believe that you loved a monster like Kageyama, but not love someone as handsome as he is. Scoffing, he turned his tracks to the road to the village, stomping his way back.

“Y-you love m-m-me?” Kageyama's soft voice spoke.

You look down at him from where you knelt down, just terrified of what could happen to him in the next minute.

“Kageyama, no matter what happens, I will never forget you, alright?” Your soft hand caressed his cheek.

“Pl-please don't tell m-me I am g-going to d-die?” He stumbled with his words.

“No, no. I am not saying that. If you happen to never return to your human form, I will still love you.” A tear rolled of your cheek like dew in the morning.

Kageyama suddenly closed his eyes and his breathing stopped. Waterfalls fell from your eyes as you saw your dear friend go limp in your arms, not holding himself up anymore. You wanted to go off in the village and get revenge with all the bitterness in your mouth, but something in your heart told you not to.

You closed your eyelids and felt some warmth in your hands. Opening them slowly, you saw him glittering proudly like a star in the night sky. You could have sworn that you were dreaming, but you pinch yourself only to realize you were wide awake.

He levitated in the air like a bird flying towards the glowing sun that warmed the ground. His torso turned back. His feet bare instead of hooves. His tail disappeared. Only the figure of Kageyama laid on the ground, fluttering his sapphire eyes open.“L-l/n-san?”

“Kageyama, you are alive and in your human form!” You hugged him tightly.

He glanced at himself up and down to see that you were right. He got up and spun you around like always.

“Yes, I am back to myself. L/n-san I simply adore you too!” He smashed his lips into yours.

Flushing in all the hues that existed, you did not hesitate one single but to kiss him back.

○◐❀❀❀❀❀❀◑○

As soon as your brother and mother moved into the palace, you and Kageyama got married. Weeks later, Oikawa got sentenced for trying to kill the king. Let's just say Oikawa could never look as handsome as he wanted anymore.

A/n: hey guys!! Thank you for reading another of my posts ☺️ hope you are having a good day!!

Hopefully you enjoyed!!

Thank you for coming!!

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ennoshitas-princess

Please DO NOT repost on any other platform!!

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(divider below blue text belongs to @besitodefresas)

[separatist-apologist]

Cowboy Like Me

Never thought I'd meet you here

Summary: When Nesta is stranded in rural Montana, she finds herself rescued by an unlikely pair.

Day 1 of @sjmromanceweek: Meet-Cute

Also, check out this art of Cowboy Cassian from @melphss

Read on AO3

Nesta was in hell. 

Who got married in Montana? Montana seemed like the sort of place you exiled people to die in lonely misery. She didn’t give a fuck about all the open sky, the clean air, or the nature that quite literally ambled up to her rental car looking for a snack. Nesta wasn’t built for this sort of life and maybe it said something about her that she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was.

She’d made a mistake, though. When she’d rented her airbnb, she’d just assumed it was an actual home, like the pictures had depicted, and not some ramshackle hovel with a literal hole in the ground for shitting.

For fifty dollars a night, she supposed she deserved that. Nesta thought that maybe she also deserved her twisted ankle. Heels on a gravel road had been an obvious mistake—was she supposed to go barefoot? She hadn’t brought anything else. Nesta emitted a soft scream of hatred for this new, cheerful place before propping herself up on the hood of her car to look at her swelling ankle.

All this for a wedding. The minute Nesta managed to get back into her car, she was going to book a flight home and block this friend forever. Why was she even trying to have friends outside of Gwyn and Emerie, besides? Nesta maneuvered her phone from her black skirt pocket only to find that of fucking course she didn’t have service.

She screamed again, irate with the whole endeavor.

“All right, ma’am?” a masculine voice called. Nesta whipped her head to the side of the long, gravel drive, intending to give that busybody man the middle finger for his trouble.

She hesitated. To start, the man in question was astride a large black horse. She had no quick comeback for a man who was pulling towards her shiny red sedan like he’d stepped straight out of eighteen forty six. 

He swung one of his long, powerful legs off the creature with ease, revealing himself to be at least six foot-five. Nesta had never considered herself a small woman, standing at five-nine without heels, but as he approached, his rough stubbled face hidden beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Nesta felt positively dainty. 

He swept his hat off his head and Nesta wished he hadn’t. Holding it against the blue and green flannel of his shirt, he was like something out of a magazine ad for country living. Warm brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders was a lethal combination on this man. His chiseled jaw, the stubble grazing his cheeks, and his rough features made Nesta think he had no trouble picking up women.

And that irked her, even as she swallowed with desire. He was absurdly stunning, the absolute dream of anyone hoping to marry a cowboy from a long-forgotten age. Those eyes of his, framed with ridiculously long lashes, swept over her, and then her surroundings.

“Tricked, huh?” he asked in a rich, deep drawl. “You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.”

“Someone should burn this place to the ground,” she hissed, one hand still gripping her hurt ankle. 

He chuckled. “I don’t think that would stop someone from tryin’ to sell it. You hurt?” he added, his eyes falling on her ankle. 

“I twisted my foot,” she admitted. He knelt, the sight emptying out all of Nesta’s thoughts. She could only stare at his thighs, bulging in his tight jeans. His hand was large enough to wrap fully around her ankle, and ever so slowly, he pulled her foot from her scuffed black heel.

“This is your problem,” he said, holding up her shoe with a frown. 

“Well I know that now,” Nesta hissed, “you must be a psychic.”

His eyes flashed. “Can you drive?”

“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I wouldn’t go around insultin’ the only person who can help…but that’s just me,” he replied. 

Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might, and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.

“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”

She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.

“Miss Archeron—”

“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”

“Why would you—put me down right now!”

He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”

“Why can’t we drive?”

He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She couldn’t help her squeal as he hoisted her up into the fine leather saddle. Nesta’s bare thighs touched the material, spreading her legs obscenely, though Cassian didn’t seen to notice or care. He merely swung himself up behind her. He put one hand on her hip, the warmth seeping through her silken skirt, before reaching for the reins.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?”

He nodded towards a saddle bag. “Needed a few things in town.

“And you took a horse?” she replied, trying to imagine where he’d even park it.

Cassian’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Where are you from, Miss Nesta?”

“Chicago,” she replied, well aware she was proving every city slicker stereotype true. “Have you ever been?”

She felt him shrug. “Nope. I’ve been to cities before, but not so far south.

So far south. Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not missing much, honestly.”

“No? Is Chicago not home sweet home?”

It was Nesta’s turn to shrug. “It’s where I live.”

If he had thoughts about that, Cassian kept them to himself. That was just as well—Nesta didn’t want to fight some stranger when she was currently on his horse, unable to even run. He’d left her shoes on top of her car and her suitcase in the trunk. Nesta was literally at his mercy, given the small, two-lane road they were currently traveling down had no hint of civilization besides the two of them. 

She’d done such a shitty job picking an airbnb. 

“What are you doin’ up here, then?” he asked after a moment. His voice had the most pleasant gravel, deep and dark like a star-flecked sky. Nesta knew she was leaning against the broad plain of his chest and found she didn’t care. 

“My friend is getting married,” she said. “I guess her fiance grew up out here.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Married on a ranch?”

Nesta twisted in her saddle. “Don’t you dare—”

“Lots of people rent out my barn on the edge of the property. You can stay up with me, if you need a place. I’ll charge you a real fair price.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”

“You ever mucked out a stall, Miss Nesta?”

She poked him in the ribs, turning back to face the endless expanse of cloudless blue. “Is that your thing, then? Humbling the city girl by making her clean up shit?”

“Maybe I think you’d be real pretty with a little mud on your face.”

Nesta swallowed. “I don’t do mud,” she said, looking at her immaculate nails.

“What do you do, then?” Why did he sound so suggestive? Nesta’s hands were clammy–nervous. When had a man ever had that effect on her? 

“Law,” she told him. “Corporate law.”

He made some soft, noncommittal noise that was, honestly, a lot better than a lot of the finance men she dated. Cassian acknowledged he’d heard her without feeling the need to cut her down in service of his own ego. 

“I don’t know much about that,” he finally admitted. Nesta could have kissed him for it, though she wouldn’t. 

“It’s pretty boring,” she said, earning another of his soft noises.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to spend your time sufferin’.”

“Well…I do get to humble really rich men with a fair amount of regularity,” she admitted with a smile. His grip on her waist tightened. 

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his breath fanning against the back of her neck. She shivered, unintentionally leaning further into him. She was acting like a cat in heat over a man she’d known for fifteen minutes.

“I’ll pay,” she breathed. Behind her, Cassian went stiff.

“Pay?”

“For a room,” she clarified, wondering what he was thinking. “If you were serious about your offer, I’d pay you for it.”

“Oh, darlin’, there’s no need for that. Just a little hel—”

“I told you I don’t do dirt,” she snapped. “You can have money or nothing at all.”

“I’m not takin’ your money,” Cassian drawled. “Just keep after yourself and don’t disturb the cats.”

Her heart stuttered. “Cats?”

“Yeah. My girl just had kittens and she’s real skittish, so if you see her, be real quiet and soft.”

Nesta could have died. “What's her name?”

She wanted a cat so badly. Her landlord expressly forbade any animals at all, and Nesta was too much of a rule follower to risk a secret cat. The thought of spending three days surrounded by a mama cat and her little kittens seemed like heaven.

“Cheddar,” Cassian admitted ruefully. “She’s orange. Dad must be black, though, because half her little beans are black, too.”

A soft squeak slipped from Nesta’s throat. “Do they have names?”

“Not yet. Maybe you’ll help me out with that,” he added with what sounded suspiciously like hope. 

She didn’t dare unpack that. Not as Cassian pulled off the road, steering his steady horse down another gravel path. Untouched grass stretched for miles in every direction until the sky met mountains in the distance. 

“Your friends will be down there,” Cassian told her, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. Accident, she swore, watching the point of his finger. “But we’ll be up here. I’ll walk you down for the wedding…keep you from wreckin’ that other pretty ankle of yours.”

“Does that work on the women around here? Your folksy charm, your aw shucks—”

Cassian laughed. “Are you askin’ if being nice gets me laid?”

“Does it?”

“My good looks get me laid, darlin’.  My folksy charm, as you so eloquently put it, is just called manners outside of the city. No need to pretend.”

“You’d be surprised,” she told him dryly. Cassian merely held her close, his eyes fixated on the two story ranch just in the distance. Nesta could have wept with relief. The saddle was rubbing against her inner thigh, chafing her delicate skin and the woodsy scent of smoke and pine coming off Cassian was threatening to throw all Nesta’s good sense out the window. 

His home sprawled against the Montana countryside. Built to look as if it was made of wood—and maybe it was, for all she knew—the house had to be worth a cool million in Nesta’s estimation. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder at him, though. Didn’t dare acknowledge she knew this man wasn’t the simple, rural cattle rancher he was trying to embody. 

And Nesta certainly didn’t let him see that she was weirdly relieved. She liked an ambitious man. And unlike all the men she’d been dating back home, Cassian wasn’t slick. Nesta would have put all the money she had on Cassian being the sort who had his heart on his sleeve for all to see. She had no business thinking about that.

This wasn’t a date.

Cassian swung off his horse and gently pulled her back into his arms.

“Don’t you go runnin’ off,” he warned Bryaxis.

“Will he?”

Cassian merely shrugged as he took her up a stone laid path towards his glass and wood front door.

“If he goes anywhere, it’ll be next door to his girlfriend.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “Your horse has a girlfriend?”

“He’s a good-looking horse. Why shouldn’t he have a girlfriend. I catch him all the time down by the fence nuzzlin’ her with his nose.”

“Like you, then?”

Cassian chuckled. “I am very single, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she interrupted, breathless as he brought her inside. “The Miss makes me feel like someone’s kindergarten teacher.”

“Fine, Nesta. I, unlike my horse, am very single.”

“Any particular reason?” she asked, wishing she sounded snide and not interested.

Cassian set her on a long, dark leather sofa, He swept his hat off his head as he knelt in front of her again. 

“You want to know why I’m single? Maybe I work too much,” he said softly, sliding her his hand up  and then back down her knee. “Maybe I’m a shitty kisser.”

“I’ll bet it’s the second,” she replied. Cassian’s hazel eyes met her own, a smirk curving over his sensual mouth.

“And you? Are you a shitty kisser?”

“Terribly deficient.”

“I figured,” he murmured, turning his gaze back to her swollen ankle. Cassian grabbed a red pillow from the corner of his couch to prop up her foot. “Why don’t you stay here and I’ll get us all set up, hm?”

“Okay.”

Cassian vanished long enough for Nesta to fire off several quiet texts and otherwise study his really nice home. The living room had a wall made of pointed windows, and though everything had that wood cabin aesthetic, it was cozy and cheerful and bright. She flipped through her work emails while she waited, dragging a knitted blanket off the back of the sofa over her lap. 

Was she insane for hanging out in a stranger's house? She would never have dared back home—her friends thought she was insane. And yet she was at the right place, and if Cassian wanted to hurt her, surely bandaging up her foot wasn’t necessary. She doubted his neighbors would have heard her scream if she stood outside and emptied her lungs of air.

Cassian returned nearly an hour later, balancing a glass of water and a plate in one massive hand, and her suitcase in the other.

“You got my things?” she asked him, surprised he’d bother. She’d assumed she’d have to hobble back out there for it.

“Of course, darlin’,” he replied, setting a nice sandwich and two ibuprofen down on the wood coffee table right in front of her. “Unless you plan on wearin’ that skirt the entire time? I don’t mind, but…”

Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you. That was really nice.”

He ducked his head. “Have somethin’ to eat before you take the medicine. You look like you haven’t had anything but coffee today. Pain killers won’t settle well on an empty stomach and while you’re cute, you’re not cute enough to clean up puke.”

Nesta was rendered speechless. That was for the best. Everytime he casually said something nice about her, Nesta was far too tempted to crawl into his lap and repay him for his generosity in a different sort of way. Instead, Nesta remained perfectly still while Cassian wrapped up her ankle with a beige colored bandage and pressed a bag of frozen green beans against the aching bone. 

“Keep this elevated,” he insisted, taking a spot close enough that Nesta could have scooted forward and put her head in his lap. She was far too tempted. 

“Want to watch something?” she suggested. “Or are you busy?”

“Not too busy for you,” he teased, reaching for the remote. “How do you feel about history?”

Their eyes met, and in unison, they said, “Ancient Aliens.”

Cassian smiled with satisfaction. “Fuck yeah.”

They wasted the afternoon that way. Nesta inched closer and closer until her head was propped up against his thigh. Cassian kept his arm casual against the back of the couch, unconcerned as they giggled their way through each new show. He didn’t stop until the sun dipped low, bathing the room in shadow.

“Want to help me make dinner?” he asked, his voice gruffer than before. She looked up at him.

“No eating out?”

His lips curved into a sly smile. “Are you asking to be eaten out?”

She smacked at his stomach, heart racing all the same. “You don’t seem like the cooking type. Isn’t that something for your little wife?”

“Are you offerin’?” he joked. “I accept. C’mon, lazy bones. At least come talk to me.”

“Does anything bother you?” Nesta asked, unconcerned when Cassian lifted her back into the air. She winced at the jolt of pain lancing through her ankle, though she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like the ease with which he carried her through his house. Cassian was careful, setting her atop a granite kitchen island so she could watch over his attempts at cooking.

“So tell me, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta.”

“Nes,” he grinned. “Miss hot shot attorney. What do you think about my humble home?”

She looked around, pretending to survey with an arched eyebrow. “It’s a little rustic—”

Cassian’s fingers were between her ribs before she could stop him, tickling until she thrashed and gasped for a breath of air. 

“Stop it, stop—”

“Rustic,” he chuckled, pulling out a nice creuset pot and setting it atop the range. “You’ll have to work on your insults.”

“I think you just wanted an excuse to touch me,” Nesta replied. Cassian smiled.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “It’s not everyday a beautiful woman is waitin’ for me on the side of the road.”

“I wasn’t waiting. I was stuck.”

He shrugged. “Sure felt like you were waitin’ for me.”

“Maybe you were waiting on me.”

“Almost certainly,” Cassian agreed cheerfully. “Do you eat pasta?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Nesta agreed. Cassian nodded.

“You and me both, sweetheart.”

And God, but Nesta wanted to find out if that was true. Cassian had a box of recipes he’d inherited from his mother that he’d been more than happy to show her. While Nesta pulled the cards out one by one, Cassian made his own tomato sauce. She knew it shouldn’t have impressed her and still it did. 

He was nearly done when his cat, Cheddar, slunk into the room. Three black and orange kittens flopped just behind her, the third tumbling face first over the threshold from the hall to the tile. Nesta gasped.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

“Where are the other four, mama?” Cassian asked his cat as she wound her way through his legs to rub against him. “What are those little demons up to?”

Nesta carefully hopped off the counter so she could scoop up one of the babies.

“Probably peeing in my boot,” Cassian grumbled, stirring his sauce with a wooden spoon. 

“Babies,” Nesta breathed, delighted when the three that had ambled in with their mother immediately bounded towards her. Her favorite, for no reason at all, was the one with the split black and orange face. She had the brightest blue eyes and when Nesta lifted her up to really look at her, the small creature meowed loudly. 

“Well now you’ve done it,” Cassian teased as Cheddar trotted over to see what the fuss was. “Be careful–mama cat has claws.”

Nesta scratched behind her ears. “Maybe for you.”

“I suppose like calls to like,” he grumbled. While he plated their food, Nesta played with the kittens until there was a snag in her skirt. Cassian offered Nesta a hand and when he pulled her up to her feet, balancing on one foot, he yanked just hard enough that she fell into his chest.

Into his lips. 

“Oh,” she whispered, unsure what to do. Cassian kept her steady with one arm, the kiss polite and chaste and just enough to make her want much, much more.

“Sorry,” he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair off her face. “Probably shouldn’t kiss the woman rentin’ one of my rooms, but…”

“It’s alright,” Nesta assured him, letting him lead her to the blocky table just outside the kitchen. It might have been awkward had Cassian not been so charming. So laid back and nice. He’d made her spaghetti and didn’t care when his cat spent the entirety of the meal winding her lithe, orange body through his feet and purring so loud Nesta felt like she was competing for his attention. 

Cassian kept the conversation going as if nothing had happened, but Nesta couldn’t get the feel of his mouth against hers out of her mind. He’d smelled crisp and clean and when her hands had pressed against his chest, he’d been all hard, toned muscle. 

“Why don’t I clean up down here, and you can get settled in your room?” Cassian suggested when Nesta had been silent a little too long. She was undressing him in her mind, and when she looked up at him, the little smile on his face made her wonder if he wasn’t aware. 

“Sure,” she agreed, if only to get out of helping with the dishes.

“I’ll carry you up,” he added, his eyes flashing. Nesta shook her head, her pride unable to stand being taken up and down the stairs.

“I can do it myself.

“Are you always this difficult?” he asked, rising to his feet. Cassian was a big man. Nesta had never felt small in comparison, had never once looked at a prospective lover and thought herself little. Cassian, though. Cassian exuded strength. In another life, he might have been a warrior prince worshiped by the masses. 

Nesta offered him a feline smile. “Maybe.” Back home, that refusal to yield would have earned her nothing good. With Cassian, though? A slow smile spread over his rugged face.

“Wouldn’t be any fun if you weren’t, I suppose. Go on then, Miss Nesta. Yell if you need me…I’ll come runnin’.”

Nesta suppressed a shiver at his sensual tone. “Is that a promise?”

He looked her up and down, his expression suddenly ravenous. If Nesta had less pride, she might have hopped over to him, pressed her hands to his chest, and let him finish what he’d started. 

“It is,” he said simply, those hazel eyes finding her face again. 

It was shree will that made her turn. As if she had something to prove. And Nesta made it all of four little hops before Cassian was coming behind her and sweeping her up off her feet. Nesta gasped, unprepared to be so close to him again.

“C’mon,” he murmured, holding her like she was something delicate.

Something fragile.

And no one thought that about her. Nesta swallowed hard, biting back the urge to snap at him. He didn’t know what she was like and maybe that was a blessing, because Nesta didn’t have to put on a show for him. She could press her head against his chest and sigh, “Thank you,” without needing to scowl, to stare him down so he knew not to ever try such a thing again.

“Tell me if I’m wrong,” he drawled softly, taking that first wooden step. “But I’ve got the feelin’ that back home, you’re somethin’ of a ball buster.”

Nesta tightened, her hackles raised. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, ma’am,” he chuckled. “It’s just…I’m thinkin’ that most of those men up there don’t know how to act right when it comes to you. And because they can’t make hide or hair of you, they treat you bad. Try and break you, make you small? So you’ve gotta be real tough, don’t you baby?”

Nesta swallowed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said crisply, careful to enunciate every single syllable which she knew only proved his point. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, taking her upstairs. Nesta didn’t want him to let her go. I was a strange thing, to be so seen. To be laid bare by this man she didn’t even know. 

“Don’t get mad at me for sayin’ this, but you remind me of Bryaxis—”

“Your horse?”

“He was mistreated too,” Cassian explained. “Screamed at, whipped…you name it, he endured it. But all he needed was a soft hand. A little patience. I figure you probably aren’t too different.”

“Where are you taking me?” 

Cassian had opened a bedroom door that absolutely belonged to him. The dark masculine reds and blacks of the bed were a dead giveaway, along with the half-full glass of water on a wood bedside table and a stack of books dog-eared haphazardly. A leather jacket was hung from a chair near the open closet door, and though it was dark, Nesta could see an adjoining bathroom at the far end of the room.

“Where, I think, you want to be tonight. Tell me if I’m wrong—I’ll put you somewhere else.”

“This is your room, Cassian.”

She could see he was trying not to smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Tell him he’s stupid. Tell him he’s wrong. Demand he put you back in your own room and—

“Okay,” she whispered before she could talk herself out of it.

Relief all but crumpled over his features. He murmured something that sounded suspiciously like Thank the good lord, and set her atop his neatly made bedspread.

Nerves shocked through Nesta, rendering her silent for a moment. Cassian, for his part, seemed to have realized that he, too, had her in his bed and didn’t quite know what to make of that.

“I ah…why don’t I wash up the dishes and you can take a shower?”

“That sounds good, Cassian.”

It sounded better than good, and though Nesta swore she wasn’t going to say so, she called, “Unless you think I need help in the shower?”

Cassian froze. For all his bravado, it was obvious he’d never thought he’d get this far. Nesta crawled toward the end of his bed with exaggerated slowness, holding his stare. He took a slow breath, those eyes of his darkening to almost black.

“Is it safe for me alone in there?”

The knot in his throat bobbed. “I reckon it’s not, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she reminded him, rising up on her knees so she could touch the hard planes of his stomach. “Do you think you could call me that, Cassian?”

“I…” his voice trailed off when her fingers found his belt and tugged. 

“You know,” Nesta continued with far more bravado than she felt, “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for coming to my rescue today.”

“You..” he cleared his throat. “That’s not necessary. I—Nes—”

“That’s better,” she crooned, having undone the button of his jeans. A lump was forming—hard and thick and Nesta was desperate to see what the cowboy had hidden in those black pair of briefs. 

“Nes,” he tried again, his hands resting on her shoulder. He wasn’t stopping her, and given the way his fingers curled against her, she thought he was trying very, very hard to be a gentleman.

That wouldn’t do. 

“I’d be a poor guest if I didn’t thank you,” she said, slipping past the waistband of his underwear. Nesta gasped when she curled around him—or, tried to. As she pulled Cassian out, she realized she’d need to rethink her plan to thank him with her tongue. Cassian was enormous, both thick and long. Hardly a grower, given he was still stiffening in her curled hand.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, each waiting for the other to do something. Deciding he was erect enough, she pumped him. Her fingers just barely fit around his shaft, and even with two hands she couldn’t have fully covered him. Nesta certainly wasn’t going to be able to fit him all in her throat.

But god she wanted to try. 

He exhaled a breath when she stroked him again, earning a chuckle from Nesta. “Tell me how you like it,” she murmured, softening her grip. Nesta had to hope that the cowboy liked it rough, because she wanted him to fuck her within an inch of her life. 

“Nice and slow?” she tried, making a sweet pass over that large cock of his.

Cassian shook his head, his dark tresses, whispering against his broad shoulders. What was he like out of control? 

“What about this?” she tried, pumping him harder, squeezing tighter. He shook his head again, allowing her to make a third, rougher pass. Nesta twisted her wrist against his head, her nails grazing the sensitive vein trailing his now very erect cock jutting from between two powerful legs.

“That's what I thought,” Nesta murmured, looking up through dark lashes. “Just like me.”

“Nes—” 

Nesta silenced him by taking him into her mouth. She had to use her hand to make up the difference and she didn’t care. A soft, strangled noise escaped Cassian as his fingers plunged into her hair. 

Yes.

This was what she needed. Nesta took him until she gagged, and then she took a little more, teeth grazing his sensitive skin, hand punishingly tight. Cassian moaned, tugging at her hair. Nesta sucked again, trying so hard to communicate that she could take it. He was holding back, practically shaking from the effort. 

Nesta took more of him, widening her jaw in order to accommodate the sheer size of him. That was all it took. Cassian made a rough, snarling sound, pushing her off him.

“You’re a lady,” he panted, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. 

Finally.

“And in my house, ladies come first,” he continued, eyes flashing as he shrugged out of that shirt. Nesta swore softly at the sight of all that gleaming, corded muscle. Nesta had never seen someone so effortlessly toned, so big.

Powerful.

“I seem to recall something about eating out,” she said breathlessly, swallowing hard when Cassian prowled toward her.

“I haven’t forgotten, darlin’,” he promised, hovering over her with his unbuttoned jeans and a smile that made Nesta’s heart race. “But first, I think I’m owed a kiss.”

“Just one?” she asked as his lips ghosted over her own.

“Let’s start with one and go from there,” he said, sliding his hand around the back of her head. Nesta had only her ripped dress between them, which provided no protection against Cassian when he pressed the weight of his body against her. 

In another life, she might have kissed him nice and slow—teasing it out, exploring him thoroughly. Right then, though, Nesta thought she might explode if she didn’t have his mouth directly on her, his tongue stroking, thrusting, tasting. He was just as excited, grinding himself into her while she pulled at the strands of his hair.

He tasted like snow kissed wind, somehow. Like the crackling of a fire and a frosted window—like some memory she’d long forgotten. Nesta dug her nails down the back of his neck and against his shoulder blades until he bucked into her, wild and nearly unrestrained. Nesta could not remember the last time she’d wanted someone the way she wanted him.

“Off—get this—off,” Cassian panted between messy, hungry kisses. He was pawing at her dress, trying to figure out how to take it off. Nesta arched her back into his chest, earning matching moans from them both as she yanked down the zipper

Nesta would never know how she managed to get that dress off her body given Cassian never stopped his frantic kissing. Nor did she figure out how her bra joined her clothes on the floor. She only realized she was nearly naked when Cassian licked down the column of her neck before burying his face between her breasts.

“Fuck, Nes,” he breathed, both hands covering them entirely—no easy feat, given how large they were. Cassian massaged them, callused thumbs dragging over her aching nipples until Nesta was certain she was making a mess all over his bedding. 

His mouth latched around her and Nesta was lost, ripping at his hair as her body bowed off the bed.

“Responsive,” he teased, his tongue tracing around the sensitive bud. “I wonder…”

“Cass—” she gasped when his hand made its way between her legs. Nesta writhed when he began drawing circles on her clit, teasing touches that weren’t even close to what she needed, even as he switched between her breasts, sucking and licking. She could feel it all in her pussy, like every nerve in her body was intimately connected.

She could have come from that—for the first time in god knew how long. At least, without her own hand, without assistance from a toy. Nesta couldn’t recall the last time a man had pleased her so easily, so effortlessly.

Cassian pulled back, wild and impossibly sexy. Holding her gaze, he nipped his way down her body until he found the red pair of panties still clinging to her hips.

“Aw, for me?” he teased, kissing against the fabric. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

Nesta pushed herself against his face, but Cassian was still licking against the lace. 

“I’ll bet you could come just like this. Couldn’t you?”

If he was doing it? Probably. Nesta merely whined, arching when he hooked his fingers into her underwear and peeled them off her.

He whistled softly. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Do you know that? I feel sick at the sight of you.”

She didn’t have a chance to respond. Cassian’s tongue slid down the center of her, rendering speech impossible. Nesta reached for something to hold on to, and found his hair for purchase. Cassian groaned, the sound vibrating against her. Her thighs tightened around his face, earning another groan of pleasure. 

Cassian’s tongue was everything. She realized, after a lifetime of thinking she was just difficult to get off—too fussy, too particular, too exacting—that what she really needed was someone who knew what they were doing. Cassian had her spread apart, licking and sucking her clit with the sort of expert precision that told Nesta he liked what he was doing. 

She regretted not sucking him more. Nesta was going to come apart in record time and she knew she was going to beg him to do this again in a few hours. All weekend.

For fucking ever. 

Release was gathering on her spine, burning hotly through her blood until Nesta didn’t recognize the noises coming from her throat. Cassian, too, was rolling his hips into the mattress, trying to alleviate his own arousal. Nesta nearly stopped him, if only to have that long, thick length in her body.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Cassian pushed one of his fingers into her. Nesta tightened around him and Cassian swore at whatever he felt, though he didn’t stop. He fucked and sucked in time, working her like she was an instrument only he knew how to play. Nesta built up, up, up, until she was fucking his hand, rolling all over his face like a wild animal. 

Nesta broke apart with a scream she couldn’t control, bucking against him as she shattered into fractals of starlight. Cassian didn’t stop, riding her through wave after wave with clear, obvious excitement. It was only when pleasure became edged with pain that Nesta released the grip her thighs had around his face and Cassian came up for a deep breath of air.

“Fuck,” he said, his lips gleaming from her arousal. “Fuck, Nes—”

“Come here, come here,” she panted, scrabbling for his shoulders. Cassian obliged, kissing her frantically. His tongue was coated in the taste of her, pushed against her own. Nesta liked it, wanted more of him.

“Condom,” he breathed, finally shucking his jeans to trip over to his dresser. Nesta propped herself up on her elbows to watch, admiring his firm ass as he went. Cassian was quick about it, rolling the condom onto his cock with what she swore were shaking hands. His eyes shone, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn Cassian could not believe his good luck. 

“You sure?” he asked, hesitating at the end of the bed. Nesta nearly laughed, given she was spread out and still trembling from his mouth. Any other man would have jumped on her, would already be balls deep buried in her.

He was sweet, she decided.

She wanted to keep him, though she had no idea how. She’d figure it out later. “I’m sure.”

“Good,” he said with another heart stopping smile. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no.”

“Sure you do,” she offered in what she hoped was a sultry voice. “You’d have gone into the bathroom and used your hand.”

“That was my plan to start,” he agreed, settling between the cradle of her thighs. “But this is much better. Have I said how pretty you are?”

“Once, at least.”

“Well.” He pushed himself an inch or so into her. Nesta gasped loudly. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.”

He’d punched all the air from her lungs. Nesta didn’t think she’d ever been stretched against anything half as large as Cassian. It was the sweetest pain that, with each shallow stroke inching him in deeper, became wholly pleasure. By the time Cassian had fully seated himself within her, a bead of sweat was trailing down his temple from the effort it took to go slow.

“Good?”

“Good,” she agreed, gripping the back of his neck for a kiss. “Cass?”

He hummed in response.

“I’m not fragile. You can fuck me, if you like.”

Cassian pulled himself out before snapping his hips so hard the headboard above them rattled. “Like that?” he grunted.

“Yes—yes, Cassian—”

He did it again, groaning loudly when she tightened involuntarily around him. This was Cassian unrestrained, his hair wild around his rugged, handsome face. His muscles bunched and shifted from the effort, held over her just enough that she could incline her had and watch his cock slide in and out of her body. 

He wasn’t finished, and Nesta already wanted to have him again. 

And again.

Cassian reached for her knees, bending them up by her shoulders to drive himself deeper. Nesta moaned, eyes rolling up into her head. The balls of her feet were pressed to his chest pushing him with each slide out, only for him to return with twice as much force. When she’d said she’d wanted it rough, well…this was exactly what she meant. 

“Nes, fuck—” he panted, eyes rolling up into his head as she came on his cock. Nesta arched hard, every muscle in her body going taut all at once. She clamped around him and Cassian came too, clearly unbidden and unprepared for the force of his own release. She wanted to drown herself in the noises he made, in the frantic thrusting of his body driving himself deeper on instinct. 

Cassian collapsed on top of her, dropping Nesta’s legs carelessly. She hissed when her bruised ankle hit the bed. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, lips against her jaw. “And I’m not, at the same time. Nesta, I…”

“I know,” she agreed, because she was certain they were thinking the same thing. Something else had happened between them, something they couldn’t so easily walk away from.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, perhaps guessing those words were never going to come easy to Nesta. “I can hear you worryin’. Baby, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Nesta brushed her fingertips against the rough stubble of his face. “Promise?”

Cassian grinned. “I promise.”

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Fixing & Empathy

This is a long one- and of course, I'm talking about the table scene. But it's such a great example here.

How Carmy connects with Syd and Claire shows the difference between Empathy and Fixing. Fixing is our instinct when our partner is in feelings of discomfort; we sympathize and try to see the silver lining for this person; we want to solve their problems instead of sitting in pain with our partner. Empathy, you're showing someone you care and understand; it's finding something within you to connect to the other person. This is the art of vulnerability.

Fixing

Claire: When we were, like, six, she, uh, fell off a fence and broke her arm, and it scared the sh¡t out of everybody? Except me, I just, like, sat there and stared at her arm.

Carmy: 'Cause you wanted to fix it?

Claire: I wanted to understand it.

Carmy: Right.

This has become my favorite interaction of the Claire & Carmy storyline. It's the summary of their relationship, a foreshadowing, if you will.

If I fill in the blanks, she is a fixer, at least in romantic relationships. I know Molly said with Carmy it's the first time Claire has stood up for herself. Maybe that's what she means: Claire wants to fix her partners; she's an enabler, as @moodyeucalyptus said. Enabling is when someone else will always fix, solve, or make the consequences disappear, and I noticed this dynamic in 2x08.

2x08: She listens to his problems and reminds him that everything is fine the night after his panic attack. When Claire asks Carmy what he's thinking about. He can't be honest that he's still thinking about the suppression test because she will attempt to fix it. He does not trust her with his feelings of discomfort. The fixing Claire does is futile support.

The way she attempts to fix Carmy, we hear through Carmy himself. A panic attack about his family gatherings - Claire's solution is finding a new meaning, making the cannolis your own. chaos menu? Could you try making it something you care about?

Can she truly understand and connect with what he's feeling? Carmy not defining their relationship could mean the lack of a bond on Carmy's part.

Part of the solution to Carmy's dilemmas on the show lies in connecting - moving out of the constant state of isolation.

Connection improves Carmy; when he initiates contact, he becomes a better version of himself. He stops screaming, gets out of his head, and can provide for others and inspire them.

All the above matches what he does for Tina, Richie, Marcus, Ebrahim, and most of all, Sydney.

It's like what Luca says in 2x04- being inspired by someone, bettering ourselves because of the person next to us- and really getting out there in the world means opening ourselves up to other people, which is what Carmy and Syd do for each other- they use empathy as a source of bonding.

Blocking was talked about for their scenes before, how one always initiates closeness- Carmy usually does that, especially in season 2. That need for contact - touching Syd on her back and shoulders - shows Carmy's longing for closeness with Sydney.

Before I get to empathy, Here's the thing: I know people hate to say that Carmy relies on Sydney or that she's his peace argument, but this does not mean Sydney actively tries to fix Carmy. Just Sydney's presence ignites change in him; just by her honesty, he's willing to try and be there for someone and get out of that place where he's hiding within himself. Sometimes, it's forgotten that social isolation can impact our mental health, and bonding with others can make positive changes.

Empathy

"...empathy is kind of this sacred space. When someone's kind of in a deep hole, and they shout out from the bottom, and they say hey it's dark, I'm overwhelmed, and then we look, and we say, "Hey," we come down."I know what it's like down here, and you're not alone."

-Brene Brown

I talked about the table scene fifty-eleven times. It makes a great example of the connection Carmy feels to Sydney.

When we're with people - our person - they make us want to be better. We don't fear a future; we expect a future with this person. There's this knowing Carmy has about Sydney; he knows whatever this relationship is, they'll work on it.

Carmy & Sydney show us the correct way to deal with your partner's feelings is empathy- listening to one another, instead of correcting emotions- you get in the hole- or table with them and express your own fears. He leaves space for Sydney to share her concerns and doesn't try to correct those feelings. He affirms and tells her he's right there with her (I fuck things up all the time), and he's honest- the without-you dialogue isn't just to make her feel better. It's his own moment of vulnerability.

When Carmy says I won't let you, I think he will hold his side and make it easier so they can fix themselves. All while empathizing with each other during their partnership.

Writing this makes the scene of the walk-in even more heartbreaking. Carmy was in the dark hole- calling for Sydney to bond with him; they couldn't help each other :(.

This is why I can't blame Carmy for screaming at Richie; he sort of begged Richie for empathy, but Richie judged him- causing panic at that moment and more isolation.

Though the end of season two was heartbreaking, I have faith we'll get more intimate, empathetic scenes despite the fall in season two.

This is a roundabout way to say- whether they end up together romantically or not (they will i just say this for the sycarmy doubters), Carmy pretty much confirms his bond with Sydney is unlike any other he's experienced, and no one can replace what he feels for her- even if someone is sitting at their table.

SIDEBAR: Read this insightful post by @bioloyg about Carmy fixing himself.

I've referenced Brene Brown's Empathy Vs. Sympathy

[turbulenthandholding]

👀 just wondering if you’re writing anything these days!

1. Hi, hello, thank you for the ask @anxietycroissant! ❤️

2. I am...or I am trying! I am about 16,000 words into what is probably going to be a pretty long fic. It's an unexpected pregnancy/speed-run-the-relationship Sydcarmy and I am happy to be writing it because it's what my brain wants to read but it alternately falls out of my head and gives me great angst. I had been pretty blocked for more than a week but 3000 words fell out of my head like nothing last night which was a nice surprise.

Excerpt (Syd and Carmy are at IKEA):

“Sammy, right? Weren't you Carmy's sous?”

Sydney looks up to see Claire standing before her. “Claire. Hi. It's Sydney, actually,” she says and rises. Claire's eyes fall to Syd’s abdomen. “And I'm his CDC now.”

“Oh, that's so cute!” Claire says, her eyes falling to Syd’s belly. “You finally got over your weird obsession with Carmy and moved on,” Claire says. “Congratulations!”

“Weird obsession?” Syd asks. She feels pinned again like she did the first night she met Claire during the reno, glared at for reasons Syd at least thinks she understands now. Jealousy, and this time, lingering anger at her breakup with Carmy, which Claire lobs at Sydney like a knife.

Syd struggles to respond. “Sorry...are you like here to look at a couch? Or like, eat some meatballs? Sorry.”

“How do you feel about a lingonberry juice box?” Carmy asks Syd as he returns, focused, unaware, unwrapping and inserting the straw as he moves to hand it to her. “Got some water too,” he says, finally engaging with the scene in front of him.

“Carm, hi,” Claire says, features pinching. Syd takes a sip from the straw.

“Uhh, hey, Claire,” Carmy returns. He slips his arm around Syd, possessive fingers digging into her hip. A united front.

“Just one…” Claire begins. “Did this, uh, overla…how far along are you?”

“Due at the end of February,” Syd says.

Claire calculates, glares at Carmy. “You didn't waste any time.”

Carmy shrugs.

“Well, this is just so fucking precious,” Claire says through clenched teeth. “I guess when you said you didn't have space for fun or enjoyment in your life, you really just meant you don't have space for me. Cool. Cool. That's just…I’ll see you around, Bear. Good luck with whatever.” She slings her bag over her shoulder and stalks off back towards the escalators.

“Uhh,” Syd says, before taking a last drink from her juice box. The lingonberry juice is good, a little tart cutting through the sweetness. The box scrunches and crunches in her hand and makes the sound that juice boxes do when they are finished. “Sorry, that was loud. And just like…sorry that, uh, this happened.”

(2.5 - I could probably use an alpha reader if any of my Sydcarmy mutuals wants to take a look and tell me if it's bad or that I'm crazy because it could very well be!)

3. I'm also working on a soul mark/soul scar Sydcarmy. It's probably about 3k words so far but I put it to the side because I realized I had a huge plot hole and haven't quite figured out how to come back from it yet.

Excerpt:

Sydney gets really good at applying foundation to her arms, pressing it in with setting powder to help keep it waterproof just in case. The number of tattoos gracing her arms has been growing exponentially over the last few months. There's a pyrex measuring cup holding the whole world, a couple of angels, a fish. S-O-U on the fingers of her hand. She's a senior in high school on track to graduate with honors and the body art would be a distraction, a mark against her. An indication that she's not serious enough to do anything other than make terrible decisions or jeopardize her future; a constant, tangible reminder that she doesn't have the grace about things like this than people whose skin is lighter than hers. She wishes she didn't care. But she does, so she covers them up every day in a routine that feels like it has become her religion. She wears button-down shirts with long sleeves secured at her wrists most days, even when the heat and humidity in Chicago are oppressive. Counts the seconds until she can go to the CIA where maybe the sight of Schrödinger’s tattoos (simultaneously hers and not hers) won't hold her back.

[bacidipesca]

first rescue

Inspired by this post by @elitadream , with whose art I’ve become mildly obsessed.

The context I’ve gathered so far from @elitadream ‘s posts: Mario and Luigi fell into the Mushroom Kingdom from Brooklyn and have no way home. Mario eventually gets a job as Peach’s guard and saves her from Bowser, getting seriously hurt in the process. At a certain point, Mario ends up having living quarters in the castle.

The post I’m using as inspiration calls this ‘the first rescue’ so I’ve actually set it before Mario gets his job as a guard—you’ll see. That post also mentions Mario having ‘incredible strength’ so I kind of…went places, but that’s down to my personal taste and headcanons. If anything here is offensive to OP, I’ll take it down immediately and apologize.

I hope that’s everything covered? I hope y’all like it.

The chain chomp was bearing down on them and there was nowhere to run. The little alcove that had been so sweet and private for her morning meetings minutes ago was now a death trap, leaving her only exit blocked by the wild, barking creature ahead of her. Toads had scattered around the garden, frantically trying to get out of its path and find a way to stop it, calling for reinforcements from the armed guards.

She tried to back away and stumbled over the iron chair she’d just been sitting in, landing hard on the grass below, and that was really all the beast needed to focus its attention on her. She raised an arm over her face as the chomp got closer, cringing away from the oncoming danger, too terrified to even scream.

Was her end really going to come like this?

But then—where she expected blinding pain as the chomp tore into her, there was none. Instead there was a sudden, sharp metallic sound as the chain chomp abruptly stopped in its path, barks cut off by its own surprise. For a moment, she wasn’t even sure what had happened, but as heartbeats passed with no injury, she opened her eyes. She peered around her arm and realized that the chomp’s eyes were rolling with confusion as it strained against whatever was holding it back. Her arm trembled and buckled beneath her, sending her down to her elbow, and when she looked up again she could see who her savior was.

Mario had hold of the chain chomp’s chain, feet planted firmly in the ground and digging holes into the grass as he furiously fought to keep the beast under control. She could only stare as he grit his teeth, pulling with all his might to keep the creature back from its target. Her heart thundered in her ears at the sight—how was that even possible…? It could take up to eight Toads to hold back a domesticated chomp, let alone a wild one—and this one was most certainly wild, given the size.

With a grunt of effort, he took a step back, replanting one of his feet. He let go of the chain with one hand, grabbing it further up, and pulled.

The chomp jerked back, letting out a confused whine.

He did it again. Opposite foot, planted behind him. Opposite hand, pulling the chain. The chomp left a deep trench where it tried to resist. Hand over hand, he pulled the creature back and away from her, arms straining under his shirt with each impossible step. The Toads had stopped running, even the armed guards that had arrived could only stop and stare as they watched.

After another heart-pounding moment of watching him struggle, the fight abruptly drained out of the chain chomp. With another whimper of confusion, it went slack against Mario’s grip and settled onto the ground with a final thud, jaws closed and eyes staring blankly in opposite directions. The Toads quickly sprang into action once they realized it had calmed—they needed to move quickly to get it contained and re-released away from the castle.

Mario, though, dropped the chain the moment he realized the chomp was no longer fighting to get to the princess. He ran around the deep furrows left in the ground by his own feet and skidded to a stop by her side, where she was still sprawled in the ground from her fall.

“Princess! Dio mio, you alright?” he asked.

He reached out for her, helping to steady her as she sat up, and she stared at him shamelessly as he did, unable to muster words. He didn’t seem to realize what he’d just done—did he even know? Did he know how strong chain chomps were, how dangerous?

If he had…would he have cared?

“Princess?”

He squeezed her hands and she blinked, realizing that she hadn’t answered him. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but she looked down at their hands again and her voice caught in her throat. His hands were so much bigger than hers, and so much stronger than they appeared. Could she feel it in his fingers now? The power to hold, even pull back, a wild chain chomp?

She threw her arms around Mario’s neck, pulling him in close. “Thank you, so much,” she said, almost too choked to speak as she worked through the last of her adrenaline.

He seemed frozen for a long moment, perhaps because he didn’t know what to do with the sudden affection, but then she felt the gentle warmth of his hands settling on her back. He stroked his hand down her spine.

“You’re alright, Princess,” he said softly, very close to her ear, and she closed her eyes for a moment to relish the reassurance. “You’re safe, now.”

She really did feel safe. With his arms around her, the scent of his aftershave tickling her nose, she felt nigh on untouchable. She’d never felt like this before in her life. She felt greedy for wanting more of it, for being disappointed when she felt she finally had to let him go.

After a long moment, she pulled back from him—though she didn’t let go of his hands. She found herself reluctant to completely lose contact, as though she was afraid he might disappear if she did. She looked into his eyes, and her heart throbbed at how much tender concern she could see on his face. He really was one of the sweetest, bravest people she’d ever met. She’d invited him to today’s meetings because she’d hoped to see more of him, but she never expected something like this.

She opened her mouth to speak, to thank him again, to tell him how amazing that was, that she’d never seen something like it in her life. Instead what came out was:

“Please, won’t you join my guard?”