#i'll see if i can really manage to keep up with this...

[lale-txt]

LALECHINGO!! ; a birthday event

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ it’s bingo! and also a raffle.

let’s party!! one thing about me is that is love a little event and since it’s my birthday month i felt like hosting one :3c

so: raffle time! but you gotta play some bingo first before you can participate. lemme give you a rundown on how it works.

what's the prize?

✰ a total of three 1k (or longer) fics from me! i don’t take requests so this is a rare chance to see something specific written by me ✰ the 3 winners will receive a wishlist form from me in which they can go wild ✰ haikyuu x reader only! gender of reader is for the winners to decide, i’ll write for all of them. ✰ not limited to sfw only (that being said: mdni)

details & rules (it looks like a lot, but i promise it's easy)

✰ to participate in the raffle, you gotta fill out the bingo cards! there’s ten of them in total at the end of this post. some are writing prompts, some are for reading, some to spread some kindness. you can grab and combine any that catch your interest.

✰ 1 bingo equals 1 point. if you manage to fill out an entire card, you’ll get 10 points, so 10x your name in the draw pot for the raffle. this means you can get up to 100 points in total if you fill out all ten cards completely.

✰ it’s not first come, first serve! you got two weeks to have fun with your bingo cards.

✰ this event is mostly about making fandom a little better for everyone, whether you’re a writer or a reader, no matter how you participate in it. this means you don’t have to show me proofs how you got these bingos. putting my trust in you that you won’t cheat <3

✰ since the prizes are gonna be fics by me, i would feel better knowing you actually like my works enough to follow me. however, it’s not a must to be a follower to participate. again, it’s more about fandom than me.

✰ writers picking up the writing prompts: it up to you how you use them! can be drabbles or headcanons, small fics, big fics, moodboards, not limited to haikyuu only. really whatever sparks your inspiration. you don’t even have to publish it or tag me in it (though i’d love to see ofc hehe), this is for YOU and your inspiration.

✰ do NOT bring any ai into this. i'll rip you to shreds

✰ once you’re finished, either reblog this post with your bingo cards or send me an ask with them (i won’t publish them, just for me to keep track)

✰ i’ll draw & announce the three winners on Jan 27th and will contact them through dms for their wishlist :3

card 1-6 ; for the writers

card 7 & 8 ; for the readers

card 9 & 10 ; for the kindness

that's all! have fun ♡ - Lale

[kwiyosin]

to hold you forever,

is my deepest fantasy.

pairings: suguru x reader

synopsis: you knew there is nothing you can do anymore. no one, not even you, can stop suguru. he has made his mind. but it was still so painful for him to leave. to leave what was once his home, you.

#. angst

suguru is comparable to a water dam. he's a storage unit for curses, yet he's also a storage unit for problems. his talent for bottling things up is worse than swallowing curses, really. once he swallow these curses, he gains full control of them, but his problems? oh he could only wish. if anything, it's the complete opposite. they mess up his mind, the control him instead. and just like a dam, trying so hard to keep it all in will result for his walls to crack, to break.

the current events served as the catalyst for that dam to break, it was the last crack before everything came flooding him. too much for a seventeen year old to bare. he's already mature for his age, he should be having fun, not risking his life for people who are barely grateful. being one of the strongest, it was yet another curse than a blessing. he just can't take it anymore.

you noticed the little changes in your boyfriend, he's gotten a lot more... quiet. but you knew that despite his quiet demeanor, inside his noggin is a mess, it's loud in there. too loud that he had lost his sense multiple times. you did your best, i'll give you the credits you deserve. but even your soothing words and warmth was not enough to patch up the demolished walls of his dam.

and then, you got called for a mission. gone for weeks. it was satoru who told you the news. what suguru did. what suguru is doing.

“I'm sorry.” his voice sounded tired but it was full of emotions, of regret, of guilt. but he wasn't guilty nor regretful of what he's done, he is guilty and regretful for what he is about to do. he's leaving. he's leaving everything behind, including you.

he could ask you to come, to join him. but he knew that the world he's building is not suitable for you, at least for now. perhaps one day he can get you to join him, but not yet. he cannot put you in danger, especially when he doesn't even know what it holds yet. he doesn't want to be selfish that he already is.

you knew what happened for the past few weeks, but you all knew is what took place, not what went through inside his head. what caused for him to just... take the opposite path.

your head hung low, standing mere feet away from him, tears threatening to fall. you blamed yourself for all of these, for him turning out to be like this. because you weren't there when he needed you the most, when he was spiraling, when he started to lose his self. when you're all he had, when you're all that he hasn't lost yet.

“I—” no words came out of your mouth even if you tried to. all you let out was a broken sob. that broke him, shattered him to pieces. suguru was the best boyfriend, he was perfect. he had hurt you to the extent that it made you cry. not until now. oh just how much he wants to grab you, hug you, hold you. he wants to feel you. the only thing that never changed. his constant. and so he did.

his heart ached seeing you break like that. he was the one pulling away, but it is never with the intent to hurt you. suguru took a step forward and gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. he held you close against his chest, inhaled your scent he's sure he will miss everyday in his waking life.

as if he can read your thoughts, he spoke. “this isn’t your fault,” he says softly, his voice low and gentle. “none of this is your fault.” he reassured. his embrace made you lose all you restraints, you broke down, sobbing against his chest. his hug only tightened as you cried. you knew all too well that this is the last hug you will ever share. you both wished doesn't ever end.

“...i can't change your mind anymore right?” you managed to mutter in between sobs. “no,” he whispered, his voice shaking, “i'm sorry. baby, i'm sorry.” he adds, pulling you impossibly closer. he held you so tight that if he just tried hard enough, you’d be a part of him. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to memorize the feeling of you against him. thinking that tomorrow, everything you shared will all be nothing but memories. memories he wished to remember even to his death.

“if only i can just hold you forever.”

the moment of silence lasted a while before both of you decided to pull away. he managed to catch you, cupping your cheeks with both hands. without hesitation, he pulled you in. your lips sharing series of needy kisses, your last kisses. when it ended, you could only wish it didn't.

“i suppose...i suppose this marks the end of us.” you whispered, your eyes avoiding his face. you couldn't look at him, for doing so will only break you even more. suguru on the other hand, his eyes studied your face, your features. he studied you like you're under a microscope. again, to memorize everything before he leaves. to memorize the only treasure he has before leaving.

you took a step back, thinking the more you stay close, the more you cannot let him go. you waited for him to do the same, if anything you waited for him to leave. he doesn't, not yet.

“i love you. i love you so much,” he then breathes your name as if it's his final breath. “i will always do. forever will.” he finishes. your eyes are now glued at the ground, your tears seemed like waterfalls. you stood there sobbing, you can't even breathe properly anymore.

“i love you, suguru.”

that was the last thing he heard before turning his heels on the other direction walking away, from you, his home. what you failed to notice that he too, was crying, barely holding himself together. you manage to sit by the side of the tree, the tree where suguru and you used to share everything together, from kisses to secrets. you cry, after all that is all you can do now.

𐙚: i am very normal about suguru, i swear !!

suguru darling, plz com bak,,, the kidz misses u... suguru bby :((

[satureja13]

Oh my, Jeb and Jack are still cleaning up the mess from the New Year's fires! Even the bear rug got destroyed. The Little Ones are devastated. It was so fluffy! Now they have to sleep on Jack's old blanket again... Ji Ho: "Can I borrow Jack for a while?" The Little Ones: 'No! We want our meadow back - clean - now!' But none of the Boys understands them, so Jeb just said: "Sure."

Meanwhile at the bridge. Sai is still working overtime to get these droid scanners running. Vlad is his assistant this time. Good thing is that now each of them gets to learn some programming skills. Kiyoshi: "Can I borrow Vlad for a while?" Malfoy: "Booook!" Skully: "Sure!" Sai sighed. He really wants to get a grip on Tiny Can soon to stop the Therapy Game before it can do any harm. He checks the reviews on a regular base and there are still no negative ones. But it's just a matter of time, right? People in need could get hurt! But they are still in the orbit of Batuu and Skully and Malfoy are watching the bridge. No need they both have to be here on duty. Maybe Skully is a better captain than he is anyway. Bringing peace to a planet and freeing B.D by just sitting in jail wasn't his best performance... (Don't be so hard on yourself Sai! <3 You did so well!)

Ji Ho and Kiyoshi took Vlad and Jack over to Moogie's Bar. To the Game Room upstairs.

Jack: "Oh you made us a little Star Wars corner!"

Kiyoshi: "That's not all. Turn off the lights and sit down." Jack: "By the gods!" Vlad: "How wonderful."

Kiyoshi: "We don't get to see much of space while we're traveling in subspace. But when we have the chance to, there's no decent place to enjoy it, so Ji Ho and I thought this would be a good idea." Jack: "This is the best idea! It's so amazing!" Jack nudged Vlad who wasn't able to react properly because he was too shocked and astonished Ji Ho would do something this - affectionate - for him. Vlad was just able to say: "Thank you." Kiyoshi placed even some drinks and snacks for them. Kiyoshi: "Enjoy the view." And then Ji Ho and Kiyoshi left. Jack called after Kiyoshi: "I will so thank you later, my beloved mate!" Kiyoshi laughed: "Can't wait!"

After Ji Ho and Kiyoshi left, Vlad said: "It's utterly amazing. I can't believe how beautiful it is." Jack: "Don't tell me. Tell Ji Ho." ... Vlad thought it's best to change the subject. He's too overwhelmed. Ji Ho gave him the stars... Vlad: "I'm so happy for you, Jack. Sai is worried but you've grown so much. Both of you. You will be fine." Jack: "This means a lot to me." Vlad: "I love you." Jack: "I know."

But Jack won't let Vlad off the hook that easily. Jack: "Why are you holding back, hm? He even managed to love you. Nothing is holding you back anymore. Why do you keep yourself from being happy with him?"

Vlad: "Ji Ho is wasted on me, Jack. He's so pure and beautiful. I can't taint him."

Jack: "That sounds stupid - and a little hot ^^' " Vlad: "Omg, Jack!" Jack: "What? 'Uhhh - taint me, Vlad!' That's hot!" Vlad snorted out a laugh: "You're really the worst!" How is Jack always able to light the mood with one stupid sentence?

Jack: "You are my best friend. Do you think I would chose someone minor for this position? No. Neither would Ji Ho pick someone minor for the love-of-his-life position. Trust us, hm? Forget about all that Bond and Prophecy stuff - everything that happened before. Be just-Vlad and let just-Ji Ho love you. You promised to be more approachable for him, didn't you?" Vlad: "Ok, I'll try." Jack: "No, there..." Vlad: "...there is no try. Do or do not. Fine..."

Jack: "That's my boy! Now let's look at our stars, hm?"

'I hear your name whispered on the wind It's a sound that makes me cry I hear a song blow again and again Through my mind and I don't know why I wish I didn't feel so strong about you Like happiness and love revolve around you

Trying to catch your heart Is like trying to catch a star So many people love you, baby That must be what you are

Waiting for a star to fall And carry your heart into my arms That's where you belong In my arms, baby, yeah

I've learn to feel what I cannot see But with you, I lose that vision I don't know how to dream your dream So I'm all caught up in the superstition I want to reach out and pull you to me Who says I should let a wild one go free'

Waiting for a Star to fall - Boy meets Girl

Outtakes

This was when I logged in after the last episode ^^'

TMI: Tonight was one of the nights I'd dreamt of the zombie apocalypse again -.- When I was on the run, I met Jeb! But he was smoking ö.ö And then I said to him: "That's your only flaw." Hahaha Omg, this brain of mine!

They are still not closing their eyes properly -.-

Hahaha and then I was going for this animation where they'd sit and hold the others hands in theirs - but they hated it. So I just had to take what they gave me, as always ^^'

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[diezmil10000]

i don't feel like there's much to say about my art improvement this year. however, in 2023, i wrote a long retrospective about my art in which i mentioned my goals for 2024, so let's see if i achieved all of them ^w^

"so for 2024 i want to study some stuff i feel i'm still lacking in. i think i've always had a good eye for composition, but i've never actually pushed it in my finished illustrations - they depend a lot on the poses because i've always been prioritising drawing over everything else. that needs to change this year."

this was actually one of the first things i did in 2024. just around this time of last year, i was in the process of making 7 fullbody illustrations for class, depicting my ocs from a visual novel i still haven't finished. i never shared them outside of artfight (😂) because i get shy talking about my ocs in public, but they are still fire and almost no one reads these posts anyway so...

i had to use so many references for these pictures, from magazine covers to fashion to layout design. i think this was the first time i was actually putting into practise all the knowledge i had learned in my degree, as up to that point i was getting through it kinda passively.

overall, my 2024 was filled with great compositions. who could have known that paying attention to it would lead to better illustrations, right? here are some other highlights i'm still very proud of:

that leblise piece is probably my favorite piece of art i ever did period. so simple yet so delicious and full of symbolism. the aqours fanart is based on an S shape, from "sunshine", and i felt so smart for coming up with it even though it's really simple. and then there's kanadiamari as always - what i really like about that fanart is that i was able to put my design knowledge into good use again.

"i also want to get better at drawing characters from extreme angles. i've always felt like my poses are a bit flat and i think i can study photos taken with wide angle lenses to improve at that."

before we get into this let me remind everyone that i trace all the time. sometimes i wake up and forget how to draw, so i open an app called Magic Poser and play with the 3D dolls until i have a decent base for what i'm picturing in my mind. but it wasn't until last year that i started pushing the angles of those scenes so that i could get the best of them.

of course, you need to have good skills in order for your traced pieces not to look like shit. i can work with anime models with innacurate anatomy precisely because i already know where the muscles sit on the body. the suselle artwork is more referenced than traced, in the sense that i first sketched the pose, then re-created it in 3D, then traced it and then re-sketched it. the things i do for yuri orz.

okay this was kind of a tangent. i did improve on this particular point but the reason isn't that i got better at perspective, i just made better use of the tools i have - the result is the same and it's positive, so i'll take it as an achievement!

"and of course i still want to draw faster, which is something i've always struggled with. […] i'm still too slow for the kind of artstyle i want to achieve, which includes having a looser lineart and less details in irrelevant areas of the drawings. i think that overdoing the lineart actually hurts my illustrations, because everything ends up pulling the viewer's attention with the same energy. i also think messy artstyles are neat."

this is a tricky subject. in my 2023 post i showed some examples of what i wanted to keep doing in terms of lineart, and while i certainly got better at not overdoing it, i'm still far from that goal. definitely something i need to keep an eye out for, as i really like it when i manage to get loose with my art.

not much to say here except that i'm sorry i never posted these farcille sketches. they are 12 in total and the rest of them are porn and i'm too shy to share them with the world. also those furry guys i draw a lot (twice) are me and my and my best friend's fursonas, in case anyone is curious.

"as for the stuff i like about my current artstyle, i definitely want to keep the way i color!! and by that i mean the method i have for applying filters that make my colors pop. i could maybe play more with textures too."

i actually think i went backwards here. what i do now is more visually coherent, but my 2024 doesn't shine for the way i use colors in comparison to the previous year. it probably happened because i got too comfortable with the way i post-process my illustrations nowadays, in contrast with how experimental i was when i started playing with filters. a shame, truly, but not a huge downgrade.

"i also like the way i depict intimacy, and people have praised it too. i don't think i'll ever change the content of my art, i eat breathe and speak in yuri. if anything, there are still some ways of conveying feelings that i haven't been able to draw because i lack the skill to do so, but i'll keep trying ;)"

not sure about this one either, but i know it's just because i didn't draw a lot in 2024. among finishing my degree and final thesis, organizing stuff for aqours when they came to spain and preparing for my current job, i didn't have much time for yuri brainrot. my best drawings were dunmeshi and lgts fanarts, and i'm glad i got into both of these pieces of media because they still warm my heart today :)

i'm very proud of all 3 of these artworks, especially the frebkuchen one, i cooked so much there. maybe this skill of mine (the ability to depict intimacy) is the one that's closest to mastery among the ones i have, and that's why i don't see much improvement.

overall, 2024 was a good year, but not my peak. i can't rate it just in terms of improvement, but i can't deny that i like my 2023 artworks more than my current ones either. i think i'm on the right path, and while i don't have any art resolutions for 2025 i hope i can bring better art to the world from now on.

thank you for reading until the end if you did, and i hope you have a nice year!! <3

2024 art summary!! lots of oc art this year :) i also started painting digitally and it's sooooo fun~~~

(template by PEPPERTODE on deviantart)

[kixidust]

@zexalmonth

Omg it's 11pm just under the wire here. A is for Astral!

[dawntheduckrb]

I'll stop posting wips eventually but it's been five days since I've said anything and I don't want anyone to think I'm dead/dying/stuck in a ditch and withering away, so here's 10% of the reason I disappeared (the duck is stuck in rendering hell) (and my little baby laptop is screaming at me every time I open up this file)

I might still be mostly lurking for a little bit so please be patient with me in the meantime 🙏🙏

[keeps-ache]

ggghhg i hate vehiclessssssss ghghghhghhhhh [dies dies dies forever]

[sairenharia]

WELL IF YOU WANT SOMEONE TO TALK ABOUT THE SCENE!

Its a hell of a scene, especially with the context of Sonic. Sonic, as a character, is someone of freedom and movement. Going wherever he wants, whenever he wants, usually able to keep up his upbeat attitude and hold onto his optimism to the point where he can seem almost too chill about things.

But usually for Sonic, his speed opens doors for him. He is able to be a hero. He is able to go where he wants. He can be there for his friends, but also have plenty of time to do what he wants. If Sonic doesn't want to be in a situation, its a hell of a thing to keep him in the situation.

Movie Sonic, however, CANNOT leave his situation, even with his speed. Sonic runs because running is how he vents, its how he manages to live as he does, because he can remain unseen. But even with his speed, in this situation, he's trapped.

Sonic is going potentially faster than he ever has before in his life and he's TRAPPED. He's stuck in path set out by the baseball diamond, treading the same ground like always because he's afraid to stop running.

Longclaw told Sonic people wanted to use him for his power. Longclaw told Sonic to keep himself safe. Longclaw told Sonic to never stop running. Because Longclaw wanted Sonic to be safe.

(Now WHY Sonic is in such danger and what Longclaw was so afraid of, I have another theory of, that I'll do later.)

All movie Sonic has known was running to keep himself safe, and while he's found some means to get sparks of joy in the world, he's never allowed to slow down for a friend. And even if the usual Sonic may sometimes have problems with his friends because of his chill attitude, his friends DO know Sonic will ALWAYS be there to help when they really need it, and Sonic knows the same of his friends. He has people he can be with and rely on. There may be fights on the details, but that foundation is there.

Movie Sonic doesn't have that foundation. Sonic had Longclaw and Longclaw died protecting him and he had no one.

And he managed, with his strong will and his optimism, to last ten years on his own. Using his superspeed to be close to people, while still maintaining his own safety. He's able to lie and pretend he could do this.

Sonic is fast enough he could be traveling the country. He could cover South America and Canada. Sure, the ocean keeps him from the rest of the world, but he could go to so many places.

But he doesn't.

He thinks Green HIlls is a large town, despite how small it is. Implying that Sonic hasn't gone TOO far from Green Hills in the grand scheme of things. Probably always why he can't just read a map to get to San Fransisco. There was too much risk. And he may lose his cave because even if he's got a good sense of direction, the wider your area, the harder it is to find where you've been.

He still wants to return home because its the closest thing to feeling like he belongs somewhere, but the fear of leaving it keeps him circling this small area. Probably because he lost his home with Longclaw.

And just like the baseball field, he digs his hole deeper and deeper. The fear keeps him trapped, and he's going to remain trapped...until he explodes.

This time, literally.

Sure, Sonic's power is partially his speed, but more likely the EMP went off because of the amount of emotions he feels. (There are several instances where we see emotions correlate with surges of powers, so whatever energy Sonic/Knuckles/Shadow is working on, its definitely emotion based.) Sonic is starting to realize how much the loneliness is truly getting to him, and he's trying to ignore it, he's trying to enjoy himself, he's trying to find games to play, but its not enough.

The entire scene is Sonic's usual escapism techniques. First its him having fun. Then its him mimicking being a lot more people. It excitement and thrill seeking. Its him manufacturing a closeness he can't have with people. To try and tell himself its okay.

But he saw what the illusion is supposed to be and as he stands there for a victory with no one around, he can't pretend. He can only rely on his last route to escape, which is to run.

But he has no where to run. There is no threat. There is no danger. There are just the emotions he's struggling to ignore anymore. He tries. Oh, does he try. But he wants things to be different. He wants things to change. And he can't change it, because he's too afraid.

And metaphorically, he lashes out. Breaks down. The EMP is a cry for help, demanding for someone, ANYONE to see him and help him.

Which says something for how far out it reached. Not just so the government noticed, but Tails, a galaxy away, also noticed. It says something his new best friend noticed his cry for help, especially when its traditionally Sonic responding to TAILS' cries for help.

Sonic tried to trap himself in his self denials. He tries to escape his pain with his speed. But the cage had finally become too small for how much he was feeling and it burst open.

Forcing Sonic to make his choice. Does he run like always and lose what few comforts Earth brought him? Does he give up and let the government take him?

Or does he finally step out of the cage's broken bars and reach for what he WANTS?

It's all about the hedgehog yaoi but it's never about the hedgehog angst

@mitzymossy33 @frostycausedaniceage @shyshyaaaaaa

[kuiinncedes]

bro why am i doing data science

[genderfluid-druid]

.

[fxckinemo]

ughhhh

[senseless-blabbering]

kind of very personal reflection in the tags about health and fear of death i guess

[ms-demeanor]

Sometimes college professors like to hop on my posts lamenting the sorry state of syllabi these days and joke about how they haven't thought that far ahead in the course themselves, or talk about how they struggle to complete a schedule for their students.

With all due respect, that's your job. If you can't do your job, you should have a different job. If you need help, ask your colleagues or your department chair or *someone* because I know that professors aren't given a hell of a lot of education on how to educate, so you probably *need* help.

But every single time I make one of those posts I get anywhere from ten to thirty messages, replies, reblogs, and asks say "oh man, that's exactly why I had to drop out of school; I couldn't keep up with the assignments because I didn't know when they were due until the week they were due."

I have been a college student in three separate decades, and "not having a schedule of assignments in the syllabus" is new to my experience. That shit didn't fly in the 2000s or 2010s and I think it likely has to do with professors being overly reliant on apps.

AT A MINIMUM your syllabus should have:

Contact information (including preferred method of contact) for the professor

Office Hours

Grading Policy

Assignment schedule.

Your assignment schedule doesn't necessarily need to have the exact page numbers of every reading or a full assignment sheet for each project, but it should have things like:

December 1st - Major Project 3 second draft due December 9th - Quiz 10 December 12th - Major Project 3 final draft due December 15th - Final Exam

If you end up presenting a more thorough schedule with readings and homework later, that is acceptable to present a week or two into the semester but it is absolutely insane to me that students these days don't know what homework they're going to have to get done over Thanksgiving break during the first couple weeks of class.

If I had three professors at once who didn't give me a schedule, how on earth would I know if I was going to have to read three chapters of a novel, take a midterm and turn in two stats homework assignments, and complete a history research paper the same week that I'm planning to travel to see family? If I'm aware of this from the beginning of the semester I can make sure not to pick up extra shifts, or I can plan to leave a day later to accommodate the midterm, or I can start working on the paper early to complete it before the due date but if I don't know what's going to be due when, I'm going to have a big problem.

If you don't give your students a schedule you are communicating that you don't care about their schedule, and that you think it's their responsibility to contort their life (and their job, and their other classes) around your class, and honestly my advice to students in that situation is "drop in the first week and pick up another class". That's actually part of why I recommend signing up for one more class than you can really manage - if you get a professor whose class looks like it's going to be a disaster because they don't have a schedule, you can bail before the withdrawal period and get a refund for the class.

I'm only in one class this semester but the professor's response has fully dropped me into "Fuck it, I guess I'll fail" mode and I don't even know if I can pull myself out of my current D grade because I don't know how many assignments we have left in the semester.

This is a shitty way to run a class. If you can't do better than this, you shouldn't be running a class.

[unholyeverything]

I just realised tomorrow marks the 7ths week of me being sick and feeling like garbage lol It's some ups and downs but generally it's been a while since I've been healthy and none knows whats up which is nice.

[adoringmha]

reading this again made me think of katuski who really just needs your kisses throughout the day. like, it's a part of his routine, and once he adds something to his strict regime, it becomes essential, and his whole day feels off without it.

so even when you're both mad at each other over some petty argument, he can't leave the house without a kiss goodbye. he'll grumble and come up to you while you're on your laptop, blatantly ignoring him.

he stands there, grinding his teeth, as he glares down at you. you look ahead, still not sparing him a glance, and blink a few times in annoyance when he stays silent for a whole 30 seconds.

"can i help you?" your voice is tight, as you roll your eyes.

"i'm leavin."

"okay?" you answer, clipped, silently and secretly cursing at yourself for pushing him away when you know what he wants (it's what you want too). you're just too stubborn, sometimes more than him.

he shifts on his feet. "i'm leaving." his voice is quiet, slightly timid, but still stiff. you know he's pouting internally.

his eyes are burning onto your face with how hard he's staring, a silent demand (plea) in his gaze and presence.

you glance up at him and feel your resolve cracking, no matter how much you want to grab the pieces and jam them back together to stand your ground.

you manage to glare at him for a solid five seconds before you look away and give in. but you're still stubborn about the way you do.

"i'm not getting up." you still keep your gaze away from him, because you know if you do, you'll want to give in even further and wrap yourself around him like a koala, like a moth to a flame.

he responds like a petulant child needing to get the last word in as he bends down, "didn't say you had to."

his eyes glance over your face and he bites his tongue to not say anything snarky to make you change your mind. his hand lightly tilts your head and he presses his lips against yours sweetly, despite the tension (that's slowly dissipating) between you two.

he gives you a sweet, long kiss, it's an apology, a reminder that he loves you, and a goodbye to keep him going for the rest of the day.

your hand comes up to rest on his that's still holding you in place, his thumb absentmindedly running light circles on your cheek. you can practically feel yourself getting lighter, looser.

when he pulls away, you can almost feel the cord of tension wanting to pull the two of you together again for another kiss, but you both fight it. he takes his time letting his hand slide away from you and the both of you stare into each others eyes for a few seconds before he clears his throat.

"i'll see you." his voice is quieter than before, barely a whisper.

you lick your lips and his eyes catch onto the motion. "be safe."

he stands up straight and nods slightly. "always."

and okay, you won't admit it but maybe, you needed the kiss just as much as him. it is a part of your routine after all.

[shellshocklove]

moanin' & groanin' | logan howlett

pairing/AU: lumberjack!logan howlett/wolverine x inexperienced!female!reader

summery: working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap (in the way that his mutant abilities prolongs his life), swearing, use of pet names, smut, car sex, praise, a little dacryphilia, logan's got a dirty mouth, soft dom!logan, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), handjob, fingering, a little manhandling, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: um hi! this is my first ever logan fic. i really hope i got him right! not beta read, and barely edited so any mistakes are my own. happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The pages crinkled under your fingertips as you turned another page. Over the top of your book you could see your father's men milling about, getting the timber ready for another outgoing truck. Day in and day out they worked like flannel-covered ants. 

He wasn't here, your father, leaving you to hold down the fort, or office to be precise, as he  ran errands. "I'll be back before lunch," he'd told you, a hand passing through the sleeve of his tan Carhartt.

The office felt bigger when he wasn't here, like his neuroticism took up twice as much space as he did himself. You looked around the room. It was small, more like a hut than anything else, raised up on cinderblocks. A tiny kitchen lined the front wall, the refrigerator had given out once this month already and something smelled like it had died in there, the white florescent light under the wall cabinets gave you a headache, and the tap drip drip dripped. The table and the mismatched chairs, your father had found at a fleamarked years ago, before you were born most likely, and they wore the wear and tear of years of use. 

Every available surface was covered in papers, and the wooden shelves on the wall dipped in the middle from the weight of the binders. When you were little you'd been afraid the wood would break in two, but they were still standing (hanging?) – maybe they'd stay like that for the rest of eternity for all you knew. Your father's office had only one desk, which made your job as occasional office manager and full-time problem solver, problematic. 

Your father would sit in his chair on one side, while you'd steal one of the mismatched chairs and occupy the other end. If you'd had your way, you wouldn't be working here. The timber business interested you just as much as your father was interested in the disco they played on the radio. "If it ain't the king of rock I don't want to hear it," he usually said and switched the channel. 

But the town was small, and no one was hiring. The summer after you'd finished high school you'd dreamt of moving to the city, but the money had been tight and your father needed you. At least the work, if your father didn't meddle, was relatively easy: answer the phone, type out the invoices and salaries, keep an eye on logistics, and make sure whatever breaks gets fixed. 

The radio hummed at a low volume, one of the singles from Tapestry, as you turned another page of your book. Leaning back in your father's office chair, you glanced at the clock over the door. He should be back by now. Just as the thought crossed your mind, the door swung open.

"Did you need something?" you asked, your book dipping down in your lap. 

Logan raised an eyebrow at you as he walked into the office on heavy steps, that damn cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "Nice to see you too, princess," he poked jokingly, tugging at his gloves, one finger at a time, and tucking them into his leather belt. 

He sported the same outfit he usually wore; bootcut jeans, a white t-shirt under his flannel and a thicker wool-lined jacket. He must've been sweating in here with that on.

Autumn had claimed the trees and ground months ago, but this morning the frost had covered the ground and bit at the apples of your cheeks. Your breath had come out in swirling plumes when you'd locked yourself in this morning; the first glints of the sun peeking through the windows as it rose over the mountains. The first thing you'd done was crank the heater, and now as you approached midday, you'd shed your sweater long ago while the windows had fogged with condensation. 

The smallest of frowns tugged at your brows, as a heat prickled up your neck to your cheeks. Logan made you a little nervous– not in a bad way, but in a way where your thoughts would wander in his presence, conjuring up scenarios of him and yourself in… comprising positions. Okay, maybe it was in a bad way. But who could blame you when he walked around like that?

He'd arrived only a few months ago, at the tail end of the summer, looking for work. He was strong, stronger than any of the other men working for your father, and although the work was hard, it seemed like he never tired. You didn't know much about him and he kept mostly to himself, hidden away in a cabin up in the mountain, but sometimes you'd see him down at the local bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. More than once you'd seen him chatting up Kayla Silverfox, and more than once you'd wished it was you in her place.

"Oof," Logan groaned as he opened the fridge, grabbing his packed lunch and closing it as fast as he could. You appreciated him for that; whatever had died in there should stay in there.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm not cleaning that again, not even for a million bucks."

"Can't blame ya." 

He looked to the table for a second where the guys usually ate their lunches, before he decided to take your usual chair at your father's desk. As he sat down, you pushed the ash tray to his side of the desk, earning you a short smile in thanks as he rested his cigar. It wasn't unusual for him to talk to you on his breaks. 

So, why did you heart beat so fast in your chest?

Because it was the first time you'd been alone.

"So, where's your old man?" he asked and bit into the sandwich he'd packed in an old newspaper.

"Running errands– he should be back soon…" you trailed off.

Logan hummed non-committedly. "So, you're in here sittin' pretty readin' your book while we're out in the cold slavin' away– maybe I should become the boss' daughter."

"Well, it's not easy," you sighed, feigning confidence, "and you gotta be pretty first of all," you front teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tried to hide your nervousness.

"That's true," he grinned, "I ain't got nothin' on you, princess."

Logan held your gaze with intent, and it was like something in the air shifted. It happened sometimes with Logan, like he had this power beaming from him that sucked you in. Erratic wings fluttered in your stomach, and you had to drop your gaze.

"So, how's the book?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Eh," you shrugged, dog-earing the page your were on, before throwing the beat-up paperback on the table. "Too many plot twists– first they're on earth, then there's this virus spreading– so they have to move all of humanity to the moon, but then there's this species that lives under the surface of the moon who they start a war with, but one of the main characters are in love with a moonie– that's what they call them– so, now they're in love and trying to stop the war and…" you shrugged again.

Logan chewed slowly as he nodded his head. "Sounds complicated," he decided, making you let out a small laugh.

"I guess so."

A grin washed over Logan's face at your small laugh, and you felt his gaze roll over you, over your exposed skin. When he looked at you like that, like a predator drooling for a meal, you felt a small damp spot stick to your panties. You watched as his nostrils widened, his jaw clenching shut as a pulsing vein protruded from his neck.

"So, science fiction," he started, clearing his throat, "Didn't know you liked that," he continued between the last bites of his sandwich

"Some kid at the library recommended it," you shrugged, "so I thought I'd try it out. And it's not like it's that far from the truth– we've got mutants."

Logan crumbled the newspaper hard and quick, the sharp sound making you jump. "Yeah," he said, and stood to his feet, "That's true."

He grabbed his burnt out cigar, and threw the ball of newspaper in the trash. You started to wonder if you'd said something wrong, but then he said, "Your father's back," and not even a second later you could see your dad's old truck pull up outside the window.

How did he even know that? 

"Logan– wait," the words just fell out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He hovered by the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at you. 

You could be brave– Just say it! 

"Come by later would you? Before you leave for the day– I have something for you."

A gush of cold air blew in with the arrival of your father. He almost crashed right into Logan on his way out, nearly knocking him down the wooden steps. You thought you could glimpse a small nod from Logan, but he was out the door so fast you couldn't be sure. 

The rest of the day went by slowly as a growing anxiety gnawed at your neck. With your dad back you slipped out to borrow the car, driving into town to pick up some lunch at the local diner. It was routine at this point, something you did without thinking, but today your thoughts couldn't stay still. You were pulling up outside the office when you realized you'd driven the whole way with the radio off.

What was even your plan? 

You wished you were better at this. You could pretend, sure, put on a brave face to hide the nerves from surfacing, but how do you get a man like that to go for a girl like you?

You felt non the wiser when the sun had dipped below the mountains and he finally knocked on the office door. Your dad had left thirty-minutes earlier, stranding you at work with no way to get home. 

If this didn't go well, you didn't look forward to walking home.

"What 's it you wanted, princess," Logan asked, leaning against the frame of the door with one knee popped. Your eyes couldn't help but run down the length of him – his broad shoulders, the bulge hidden below his big belt buckle, and the veins of his exposed arms as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"Oh, um," you tried to shake your thoughts, and you rummaged the desk for the envelope. "Here," you said as you found it, stretching your hand out for him to take it.

He pushed off the door frame with a raised eyebrow, the cold air from the open door taking with it the warmth of the office. "What's this?" he questioned, taking the envelope from your hand. 

"It's your check– for this month's work," you explained.

His raised eyebrow pulled into a frown, "This is a week early," he questioned, "and I usually get these sent in the mail."

"Oh, I-I just thought I'd give it to you personally this time," you lied, fitting a shrug at the end for good measure, trying to sell how completely normal and nonchalant you were.

Logan raised a skeptic eyebrow at you, and you suddenly felt really really stupid. In your chest your heart could compete with a hummingbird's.

"Really?" he said with a smile before he dropped his chin, "Can I appreciate a little extra something in here, or…?" he trailed off, waving the envelope.

Letting out a shaky inaudible breath, you tried in your flirtiest voice, "Maybe if you give me a ride home…"

...................

The lights from the town below looked like stars scattered over the night sky, the yellow light of the roads connected them like on a string. You knew that Logan knew where you lived; the town was small, and even with the short time he'd spent here, it wasn't hard to get familiar. He'd stopped at the lookout point, about half-way up the mountain road. It was nice in the daytime, with a nice view of the town, the mountain and rivers, but at night it attracted a different kind of crowd: lovers. It was cheesy, and cliché, but clichés were clichés for a reason. 

The Led Zeppelin tape whirled, and the music stopped. 

Suddenly you felt nervous, fingers picking at a loose tread on your sweater. Logan leaned forward to flip the cassette, and his truck filled with a sound of organ, like you were back in church. When he leaned back he slung his arm over your seat. You watched how he spread his legs, getting comfortable, as his eyes found your face.

Under the wool, your heart picked up its beat.

In a brave move you shifted closer, the leather seat moaning under you, as a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His big palm snaked around your shoulder, curling you closer to him until his lips caught your own. You only hesitated for a second before your hand found his neck, where your fingers tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck. 

A low growl huffed against your lips, and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself roughly against you as he licked into your mouth. You couldn't help the small whimper escaping you. His touch was rough, almost impatient, but tender all at the same time, and you felt yourself fall apart.

The air stuck to your skin, clammy and sticky with arousal and now you started to get impatient. With a loud smack you broke apart, your lips raw and spent from use as you caught your breath. A rough hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb skated gently over your skin as he tilted your head towards him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he mused. His eyes had gone dark, pupils huge and filled with lust; yours must've looked about the same as they rolled down his body. He shifted closer to you, pushing you closer to the door, and you got a better view of the bulge hidden behind his jeans.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, clogging up the sounds around you like you were underwater, pushing at your thoughts at the back of your mind. Logan moved with such ease, each touch natural and easy, like he'd done them a thousand times. Not like you, with only your short-lived high school boyfriend under your belt. 

"Hey," he shook your head gently, "Where you goin', bub?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, a heat coating the apples of your cheeks. 

He shook his head, his face surprisingly tender for someone so rough, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm just…" you trailed of, trying to find your words, "I'm a little nervous– I haven't done this much," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That's sweet, bub." The pad of his thumb rubbed the pet name into your skin as he leaned forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss, "But I wouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours 'bout it."

His breath was hot against your own, and an ache started to spread between your legs. The hand on your cheek travelled downwards to tug at your jacket, and you parted only for a second to rid yourself of it, but before you could lock your lips with his again he grabbed at your hands.

"I'll teach ya," he told you and guided your hands to his broad form. 

He let you touch him as he shucked off his jacket, your fingers dancing over the soft flannel. He was solid beneath your fingers, hard muscles from hard work. A patch of dark hair curled at his chest, peeking out beneath his white shirt, and you found yourself wondering where it lead.

Curling his hand around your wrist, he guided your hand lower; down over his chest where you could feel the solid form of him. His bronze belt buckle burned you like ice, but the heat of him as he pressed your hand to the hard bulge beneath the buckle burned even brighter.

"You feel that?" He looked you straight in the eyes. He pressed your hand down harder and you could feel the shape of him against your hand, hard and thick, and big. You barely managed a nod through the wave of heat coating your cheeks. 

"That's because of you, princess." His voice was low, almost like a growl, as he started to guide your hand to rub over the thick length.

"Me?" you questioned, breathless. 

"Yes, you," he chuckled, a heavy hand petting at your head. "D'you want to take it out? Stroke it f'me?"

"Please," you begged, looking at him with moony eyes through your lashes.

"So polite f'me," he mused, his hands tugging at his belt before he popped the button on his jeans. Slipping off your shoes, you crawled up into the seat, sitting back on your knees as you watched him pull at his jeans. Peeking out from under the denim, you could see a dark patch of hair.

Logan was in no rush, revealing only an inch at a time of the base of his cock, making a show of it as the tension rose. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you, and it made you brave, reaching a trembling hand forward, you helped him tug at the fabric.

At last his cock sprung free.

You felt your eyes widen at the sight, as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together. Even with your limited experience, you knew he was bigger than most. The thick length of his cock bobbed from the weight, hanging heavy between his legs. At the tip of his fat head, a drop of precum pearled, almost invisible in the dark truck. 

"Come here, bub." He widened his legs as he reached out a strong arm for you, curling you into his shoulder. 

"Put your hand on it," he ordered, "like this," he grabbed at your wrist and guided you hand towards his mouth. You let him move you around, eyes blown out and wide as you couldn't take your eyes off his impressive cock. 

A wet blob of spit pulled you from your thoughts, it drew the slightest frown over your face until he guided your palm, now coated in his spit, to his cock.

Under your palm his skin was silky soft, but hard and firm at the same time. You found yourself mesmerized at the sight of your hand around him as you familiarized yourself with the heaviness of him in your hand. 

"There ya go–" he cut himself off with a groan as you formed a fist around the head of him. Your fingers struggled to reach around him, but it didn't seem like Logan minded much when you moved downwards smearing his spit over his shaft in an experimental tug. 

"That's it, good girl, just like that."

A warmth bloomed in your chest at the praise, wrapping itself around your heart. You wanted him to say it again– to be good for him. So, you reached forward with your other hand, wrapping it around the base as the other formed a fist around the head. Another pearl of precum beaded at the tip, and you took the opportunity to skate your thumb over it, massaging it into his spit.

A growl seemed to get caught in Logan's throat, and still riding off your high that the praise had sown in you, you started to pump his cock in slow strokes. A slick sound escaped under your fists with each stroke, and you watched how his head fell back in pleasure.

"Am-am I doing it right?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

At the sound of your voice, Logan sat up straighter, a heavy hand falling over your back to pull you closer. "You're a natural, princess."  

You couldn't contain the smile from coating your lips as he brought you in for another searing kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. It clouded your mind, and you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing. 

Logan's hand travelled down your body, his big palm grabbing at your ass. "Take of your pants," he ordered against your lips, "Panties too," underlining his order with a couple of light slaps to the flesh.

Shuffling out of his hold, you fingered at the button of your pants, pulling at them and your panties as quickly as you could. Goosebumps prickled over your exposed skin, the air suddenly frosty without Logan's touch – but that didn't last long.

The calloused pads of his fingers trailed up your thighs, pressing down into the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. "Come sit in my lap, princess."

He didn't wait for you to move, instead he manhandled you how he wanted. Spreading his legs wide apart he fit you between his legs, your back pressed against his hot chest with his hard and leaking cock caged against your ass. 

"I'm gonna touch you now, baby, okay?" his deep voice whispered in your ear.

"Okay," you peeped, heart pounding in your ears at this new proximity. 

He spread your legs, putting your wet and neglected cunt on display, hooking them over his knees. When his palms danced over your inner thighs, you felt yourself sink deeper into his chest, deeper into the safe scent of pine and man. 

"Need to get you ready f'me, bub– stretch this tight cunt out for my big cock," he cooed.

You ached for him, a sticky wet feeling between your legs as you wished so badly for him to finally touch you. His touch was light, but teasing, drawing circles along the thin flesh, circling closer and closer to where you needed his touch the most, before he pulled away. 

"Please," you whined, grabbing at his arm.

His breath felt hot against your neck, and you could feel the grin he pressed against your skin. He let you guide him upwards to hover his large palm over your mound, but he wouldn't let you have it. Instead, he pushed at your sweater. His hand spread across the skin beneath your belly button as prickled goosebumps followed the rough pads as they ran across your skin.

"Y'gonna feel me right here, bub?" he teased, "So deep inside your tummy?"

A whine caught in your throat and you felt like an exposed nerve. Arousal pulsated throughout your body, threatening to pull you apart unless he did something soon. Your neglected cunt dripped with an ache only he could sooth. 

"Yes, please, Logan," you whined, tears threatening to spill.

His thick beard scraped against your cheek, and you almost trembled from anticipation as he slid his hands downwards. He raked his fingers through the curls of your mound, and a gasp fell from your lips when he finally pushed at your clit.

A wide smile reached across your face when he started to circle his fingers, tight with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips bucked to meet his touch, your cunt eager and dripping for more of him. His other arm clasped around your middle, keeping your still and steady in his lap as he had his way with you.

A bold finger dipped lower, running through your folds and teasing at you entrance. A slick sound filled the car as he played with your cunt, circling his fingers around your hole, dipping a teasing finger inside you just to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it just as quickly. 

"Such a messy pussy," Logan murmured in your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating into your skin. "Listen."

The sound as he played with your pussy was obscene, lewd, and so dirty you felt a heat crawl up your chest. A breathy gasp escaped you when he finally split you on his finger, and a satisfied smile coated your lips as he started to move it inside in a steady rhythm, prodding every so often at that spongy spot inside, the spot your own finger couldn't reach.

"F-feels s-so good," you managed to stutter out. 

The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every thrust, teasing at your insides and conjuring moan after breathy moan from your lips. He guided you closer and closer to the edge, and you wanted so badly to fall. When he pulled out to slide another finger inside you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek with satisfaction.

"I can feel that pussy clenching me– you close, bub?" he poked, never stopping his fingers.

Your head rolled back, resting heavy on his shoulder as you nodded franticly, mouth parted slightly, humming out small breathy whines. You were so close, the tension in your stomach twisting and aching for release.

But then he pulled his fingers, dragging them up over your mound leaving a wet trail in your curls. You couldn't help the disappointed sigh as more tears pressed their way down your cheeks.

"Shh," he hushed you, "you're okay, bub." 

Under you, you felt him move, his strong muscles flexing as he shifted you on his lap. When you felt the blunt head of his cock slide between your folds, an eagerness came upon you. You grinded against him, making a small chuckle rumble from his chest. Logan slapped his heavy cock against your folds, coating his big cock in your slick arousal. 

The first stretch of him knocked the breath right out of you, the fat tip of him splitting you in half as he helped you guide yourself down on him. You had to remember to breathe, your hand fumbling for something to hold on to. 

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes wide, "I-it's so big– it's t-too big."

His hand wrapped around your middle held you in place, keeping you still on his cock as you adjusted to the first inches of him inside you. 

"It's not too big, princess, you're doing so well f'me," he praised, "just a little more, bub– you can do it."

With a wet whimper you lowered yourself, taking a couple more inches of him, as Logan pressed more fluttering praise into your skin. He let you take your time, easing yourself down on him at your own pace. When your thighs were finally flushed with his, he was so deep inside you, you jolted, trying to move back up, but Logan's hands held you down. You felt him in your tummy, like he'd said, his cock reaching so deep you were shaking.

"Sit still, get used to it," he told you, as you tried to catch your breath, "You're being so good f'me."

And somehow the burning stretch of him soothed away into a pleasurable pressure, one you couldn't help but chase. With an experimental rock of your hips, you felt the fat head of him prod at your spot, making you mewl. And when you started to swivel your hips, Logan groaned in satisfaction, meeting your movement with small thrusts.

Slowly, he picked up his rhythm, strong hands shifted to dig into your hips, holding you in place for him to move you as he wished. In your ear, you heard him growl, deep and animalistic as he fucked up into you.

It didn't take long until your breath came out fast between moans as the pressure built, and built, and built. 

"Logan," you moaned, tethering right on the edge.

Another growl escaped his chest, as his strong arms hooked under your legs. He pressed them tightly to your body as he picked up his pace, bucking wildly into your eager cunt. You could feel him throb inside of you, and you couldn't help but clench at the thought of feeling him spill inside you, claiming you.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged, tears streaming down your face like two winding rivers, "I-I'm gonna come."

A hand slid between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, coaxing you closer and closer with winding circles. 

"Come on my cock, baby, come all over that big cock."

It was hot, and blinding. Euphoric shocks pulsed through your body, as you fluttered and gushed around his cock. Logan's grip on your legs tightened as you shook violently with your orgasm – a million stars exploded behind your eyes.

"Oh, that's it, bub, such a good girl," he praised between heavy wet pants against your ear.    

Fucking you through your ecstasy, Logan chased his own high at a relentless pace, and all you could do was take it, reduced to a ragdoll in his hands. In your ear he muttered nonsense interlaced with praise, telling you how good you felt, and how perfect you were for him.

With a deep groan he pulled out quickly, tugging at himself until he spilled his thick spend on the truck floor. With bleary eyes you watched how it pumped in quick spurts, dripping down his hand and soiled the knuckles in his own sticky cum. 

Behind you, Logan breathed hard, nudging his nose against the column of your neck to press soft kisses to the hot skin. 

A pair of bright headlights beamed down the road, pulling you from the moment with its blinding light. Logan helped you shift off his lap, reaching to hand you your discarded clothes before he tucked himself back into his jeans. 

The cassette whirled in the car radio, and you couldn't remember when the music had stopped. Logan shifted back behind the wheel and an eerie silence grew in the distance between you.

"How 'bout I take you somewhere to eat?" he posed.

You smiled, "I could eat."

...................

hopefully this was okay? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

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