#imma swallow your art

[orbitariums]

( in the accent of a suburban blk girlie ) dhmu just thinking ab being art and patrick's joint pretty little thing and they're both like hah ! art/patrick could never score a girl like this, she's different from every woman ive ever met ( black as hell, boujie as hell, BUILT as hell ), he doesn't have it like me. and then all of a sudden they both find themselves at a mostly black club she frequents and posts ab on myspace a lot and they both find themselves giving her flirty, llustful looks across the dance floor at her, go to give eachother a 'hah you could never pull all that' look and realize they're both doing the same thing and then realizing that you could pull any little frat-esque, trust funded white boy you wanted and they LOCK TF IN on proving they could treat and fuck you best

- 🎹

all that | artrick + black reader

literally obsessed with this request piano anon ... thissss is universe-building and i LOVEEEE to cross cultures >:-) also, made this playlist to fit the vibe (tried to keep it 2006 themed but haddd to throw some cash cobain in there — his new album is also perfect to listen to for this)

contains: a FINE black GYAL, art + patrick feening they ain't never BEEN with a baddie, smut: fingering, oral (f! receiving), threesome i realize i could've made this a drabble but i'm a writer. so imma write. so i hope y'all fw this! word count: 7.7k and not proofread

It's giving Stanford era Art and Patrick — Art feels like he has dibs on you because he met you first and takes a few classes with you. Unlike Patrick, Art prides himself on being your friend — even though you've really only interacted through class projects, and Art hardly has the courage to talk to you outside of class.

You're different from anybody Art or Patrick have wanted in the past. Stanford opened up a door to a whole new world for them — a world outside of rich white girls who spent their summers in the Hamptons or elite tennis camps. and you were the key holder. you were hands-down the most stunning girl they'd ever seen. For Art, it was the Marley twists that reached your butt (a staple hairstyle of yours when you weren't rotating from lace fronts to sew-ins to natural), the way your brown eyes glimmered when a ray of sun shone over you through the window.

For Patrick it was your lips, thick and glossy or perfectly painted with a brown lip combo — gawking at you in the cafeteria when he visits and watching you reapply your lip gloss after you eat might be his favorite pastime.

Once, Patrick literally groaned, throwing his head back with a hand on his forehead when you bent over to pick up your lip liner, then readjusted your jeans and did that little jump trying to fit your ass properly back in the pants. Art couldn't even call him out on it because it took everything in him to hold back a whimper.

Your skin was supple and a rich brown, soft like a pillow they wanted to sink into. everything about you was something to admire — your laugh, the certainty in your voice whenever you spoke, your graceful yet assertive demeanor. You knew who you were, and that was something lacking from all the Sarahs and Kaylors and Brittanys they had been with. And, satisfying their basest desires, was your stallion body. tall, thick, and fit.

"She's so pretty," Art blinked slowly, the two of them watching you from a distance in the library as you gathered with a group of friends, standing around a table and giggling softly.

"Her ass is so fat. I've never seen anything like that shit before," Patrick murmured, his eyebrows furrowed as if he were concerned— really he was just incredulous.

A beat as Art swallowed hard, clenching his jaw. Ignoring the way his pants grew tighter. Patrick doing the same.

"Yeah," he exhaled after a moment of silence and low-eyed ogling from the two of them.

It was weeks of that — just gawking at you and getting themselves worked up thinking about you. At that point, there was more sexual tension between Art and Patrick than either of the two lusting boys had managed to work up with you. Tashi found their fantasizing aggravating and berated them for not just going up to you and talking to you — secretly, Art and Patrick praised the fact that Tashi has a girlfriend, otherwise she'd be competition too.

Art practically fainted when he saw you in the hallway talking to Patrick— Patrick leaning against the wall with his hand just above his head, towering over you with the confidence of a sly dog. He could just make out the murmurs of your conversation, the warm ringing of your laugh, Patrick's flirtatious chuckling overlapping just a few seconds later. He was laying it on thick, and Art felt like he might go into cardiac arrest with how angry he was.

Art strode up to the two of you with determination, slowing down once he gets closer so he doesn't come off as defensive as he felt. He gave Patrick an icy, tight-lipped grin that made Patrick smirk ever-so-slightly, his eyes wandering to some spot just above Art's head.

"Pat," Art bleated. He turned to you, his eyes softening along with his brain and everything else in his body except his dick. He smiled gently, locking eyes with you. "YN. It's nice to see you. I'm Art, by the way."

You shook your head and chuckled, one of your braids drifting over your shoulder. You pushed it back, and Art and Patrick went numb at the simple maneuver. You bit down softly on your bottom lip, grinning bemusedly,

"I know who you are. We did like two chem projects together, don't you remember?"

"Yeah, remember?" Patrick echoed, glancing over smugly at Art, who was too enamored by you to side-eye Patrick in return.

"Yeah. Yeah of course I remember. You were the backbone of our projects," Art trailed off into a genuine laugh, one full of appreciation.

"Well, I am pre-med, so," a slight laugh bubbled up in your throat and it was so attractive and confident, Art couldn't help but grin at you dazedly.

"Smart girl," Patrick inserted himself, catching your eye as soon as you turned your head to him again.

You didn't miss the way he held eye contact, the way he was so comfortable giving you a name to hold on to, like it was something he was used to doing with you. There's some sort of intimacy to a nickname like that, suggesting something provocative yet impossible to name. You're well aware of the fact that they're both attracted to you — you couldn't possibly miss them staring at you even when you knew they thought they were being discreet.

Seeing them now, up close and personal, finally actually talking to you instead of checking you out and avoiding eye contact, you saw their strategies, their archetypes. Art, the charming and unassuming rabbit — assumed timid by most but smart and eventually crafty — and Patrick, the rakish, bold fox, unabashed in his cunning and willing to show out. Both types that you'd seen before, but not quite in this form. And both intrigued you deeply. You, the snake. Letting them have their glory in this game now, but plotting just how you would leer over them soon enough, evaluating your prey.

"Gotta be. I only get one chance," you replied to Patrick's comment.

You could tell he was used to having girls stuck, and you weren't that type. But with you, their eagerness and need to prove themselves was strong right away.

You could tell they were trying to figure out what to say. You figured they were used to girls giggling and blushing over them. Maybe they expected a thank you, complete with hair twirling and bashfulness, like you didn't already know you were smart, fine, and everything in between.

"Mkay," you hummed, smiling precociously up at them. "I'm gonna hit the library, got a bio exam next week. I'll see you both later?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you'll see us," Art assured you immediately, on top of Patrick drawling,

"We'll be on the lookout."

You chuckled, giving them one last look over your lashes before you turned around. You could feel their eyes on you as they left, tracking all the way down to your hips which swayed as you walked.

They watched you like that all the way out the double doors, in a trance. When the door finally closed, Art swiveled on his feet and jabbed Patrick in the shoulder, walking off dramatically. Patrick caught up to him quickly.

"What the fuck? What's that for?" he whined.

"What the hell man, you can't just talk to her," Art frowned.

Patrick paused, staring at Art like he was a middle schooler,

"I just did. Besides, it's not like you were talking to her anyway, I did us both a favor."

Art knew he was being petulant but he couldn't himself — he didn't mind admiring you with Patrick, but sharing you was a whole 'nother thing. He wasn't ready to admit that the thought turned him on, and the attraction was still fresh enough that he was possessive. Maybe the doors would open once he knew he could get you.

"Yeah, well I was gonna."

"Ha!" Patrick barked out a cold laugh. "Like that'd get you anywhere."

"Fuck does that mean?" Art scoffed, glaring at his best friend and lamenting the luscious mop of overgrown dark curls brushing against his forehead.

Patrick tapped the underbrim of Art's red hat, which Art quickly readjusted,

"Look at you. You're dressed like a skinny white cuck. You don't even know what to do with all that." Patrick was growing more and more defensive and loud by the minute. He shook his head and glared off into the distance like he was thinking of just how he'd handle "all that," then continued. "She wants a big dog."

Art actually laughed — he genuinely doubled over laughing, and Patrick marched along while Art was cackling a few feet behind. He caught up to Patrick, red in the face,

"And you're a big dog? You're a rich white Jew from Rochester, New York."

Patrick smirked, like he knew something Art didn't — but when does he not know everything before Art has even gotten a hint? Or at least, he pretends to know everything. Art wasn't sure if it was too late to come out from under Patrick's wing, it's all he knew.

"Exactly," Patrick responded quietly.

Art, miffed but trying not to show it, switched the trajectory of the conversation and shook his head. He offered the first reality check ever since this little crush had formed,

"Don't sound too sure of yourself. I don't think either of us are her type."

"C'mon Art, don't be racist. You think she only likes black guys?"

Art was ruffled— he retorted,

"I didn't say that!"

"Whatever, I got her Myspace. I'll give it to you so you can stalk her but don't actually follow her like a creep. You're welcome, dumbass. You can thank me for bringing you a step forward from jerking your tiny little dick while you think of her alone in your dorm room."

How the fuck did he get her Myspace?

| | |

Patrick was back again by next week, fooling around on the computer while Art laid back on his bed and bounced a tennis ball against the ceiling.

"Oh shit," Patrick muttered to himself, a toothpick wiggling in the corner of his mouth. Art perked up, sitting up on his elbows.

"What?"

"Come look," Patrick waved Art over.

On the computer screen was your Myspace, which you just updated few minutes ago.

[ YN ] Can't wait to hit up Nebula later tonight!

"What's Nebula?" Art asked, his voice quiet and curious as he squinted at the glowing screen.

Patrick wordlessly pulled up another tab and typed up Nebula. It was a club a few miles north of campus. It had no description but a bunch of pictures. It was different from what they were used to — frat parties consisting of fist bumping and neon necklaces, a sea of white crashed against the floor and someone shotgunning a can of Budweiser. Instead, they're looking at photos of a nightclub with flashy lights and graffiti decor, and not a single hint of white — at least, not in any of the pictures. But it looks busy, and as far as they can tell, it actually looks fun.

Patrick and Art scanned the page of images meticulously, it was like their brains were reconfiguring. After some time, they both speak at once:

"Should we go?"

"We're fucking going."

The boys spent the next few hours getting ready. Or at least, Art did. Patrick didn't have a change of clothes, so he was going as he was — untucked Ralph polo, khaki shorts and all. Art on the other hand, showered and rotated through multiple outfits. By his third shirt, Patrick was fatigued,

"What are you doing?"

Art held up a white t-shirt to the mirror and angled it against his body,

"I don't wanna show up looking like an asshole. Look at you, what are you wearing?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Patrick griped, though he did a double take at himself behind Art in the mirror.

"Did you not see how everyone was dressed in the pictures? We're gonna look like idiots if we show up like a bunch of tennis douchebags," Art retorted, finally deciding on a white shirt and ripped blue jeans.

"We are tennis douchebags," Patrick said to himself. "Got a pair of black jeans I can wear?"

Art smirked wordlessly, throwing a pair over to Patrick.

The club is packed, to say the least. But it's huge. The bouncer took a long, hard look at the two boys before graciously deciding to let them in. They did look painfully out of place — the club seemed not to have a white person in sight for miles. They were tokens here, not oblivious to the curious looks and outright glares. Chingy's Right Thurr was blasting from the club speakers, booming over the sound of Air Force 1s and chunky heels scuffling across the floor. Art and Patrick stood in the front, taking in the view of the dance floor like a pair of birds overlooking the sea from the shore.

"What if she's not even here?" Art muttered.

"She's here dude, trust me. No way she's staying in on a Friday night after exams and this is clearly the place to go," Patrick shouted over the music. The two silently scanned over the crowd, desperate to pick her out in a sea of people. Then, Patrick laid eyes on her. He jabbed Art's side, who immediately snapped his vision to focus on you, so far away on the dance floor, unaware of their presence.

You were in a tight-fitting short pink dress that hugged every inch of your body — it seemed like it was made for you. Your tits sat pretty and your ass jiggled with even the slightest move. Your brown skin glinted under the flashing lights, and reflections shimmered off of your golden bracelets. You were with a group of friends, laughing and rolling your body to the beat, hips swaying with the motion of water. Patrick and Art were absolutely stuck, staring at you with dry mouths.

"Fuck," Art mouthed, and Patrick found his lips pulled beneath his teeth.

You didn't have a care in the world. You weren't drunk, but you had a few drinks in you and the bass was thudding against your eardrums just right. And you knew you looked good. Everything felt right — but the last thing you expected to see when you turned your head was two white boys, especially not two white boys who you knew. They seemed to realize that they were caught once you made eye contact with them, squinting at first in confusion.

Then, you saw it, the lustful look in both of their eyes. Patrick was unabashedly checking you out — you were sure he was doing it before, but now it was like he wanted you to know. And Art had this look in his eyes, so deep and watchful that you could tell he was simply drinking you in. Arms tucked over his chest, his tongue swiping slowly over his lip.

You giggled, returning their gazes with a subtly flirtatious cock of your head, and a bemused grin. Patrick smiled and nodded, and Art cocked his head in unison with you. Like he was playing. And you liked this game. You turned to your friends for just a moment and quickly excused yourself, then turned back to face the two boys, glancing towards the bar.

You didn't wait for them, just started slowly sauntering over, knowing they would follow you.

Once you broke their gaze, they turned to each other, smirking. On the one hand, they knew they had an in. But they were challenging each other too, with a competitive spark in their eyes that said, "you wish."

They rushed over to the bar, practically skidding across the bar and even bumping into each other. They got there just seconds before you did, still catching their breaths by the time you got close enough. Before you could even open your mouth, both of them were panting. In unison, they spouted,

"Hey—"

"Hi."

"Can I buy you a drink?"

They glared at each other, and you laughed, shaking your head. They were practically brothers, the way they were so in sync with each other and seemed to bounce off of one another. It was fun analyzing their characters, and even more fun because they were trust fund babies without a care in the world, and you couldn't be any more different. But one thing was for certain — you could get anything from them.

"That's y'all's favorite question, isn't it?" you grinned up at them slowly, batting your lashes.

They both laughed weakly, not used to being called out so bluntly. They were so set on having you, but now that you were in front of them, it was clear you made the rules. The way you assessed them both silently, letting your eyes observe the both of them from head to toe, slowly but surely, they had no choice but to stand at your feet.

"How about this," you started, and they perked up like dogs, hanging on to your every word. "Whoever guesses my drink of choice can buy me a drink."

"Sex on the beach," Patrick blurted, mainly because he was thinking about sex.

"Vodka cran?" Art offered hesitantly.

You squint at them, shaking your head.

"Cognac, neat."

Patrick snorted, and you looked over at him with a curious grin. He explained himself,

"Sorry, it's just... that's dark liquor."

"Duh. I don't waste my money on watered down cocktails." A pause. "So...?"

They fought to get drinks, but ultimately, Art was the one who flagged the bartender down first. You told them that you should talk somewhere a bit more quiet, and led them to a couch beneath the stairs, where the music was slightly muffled. You knew that their eyes were on you as you were walking, you could tell by the way they went silent while behind you.

You sat between them on the couch, one leg over the other. Both their mouths went dry over the sight of your thigh pooling and expanding as you placed it on top of your other one. Your brown skin contrasted deliciously with the pink fabric of your dress.

You sipped your drink and leaned back just a bit against the couch. Basking in their intent eye contact.

"So," you smirked.

"So..." Patrick grinned at you, unafraid to show all his teeth.

You glance between the two of them,

"It's your first time here, isn't it?"

"Whaaat?" Patrick feigned offense, shaking his head and waving his hand. He sips his drink, leaning back just a bit to align his body more with yours. "Psshh, no, we come here all the time."

"Really?" you challenged him, and he just nodded silently with that fucking smirk on his face, his eyes boring into yours with an impish sparkle. "'Cuz I come here all the time, and I haven't seen you two before. Like, ever."

"Guess you weren't looking for us hard enough," in comes Art, quiet as ever but still so strikingly present — it's impossible to forget him, the way he sneaks up on you every time with some suggestive comment or smart remark.

You turned your head towards him now, your smile growing bigger by the minute, thoroughly enthralled by this delicious dialogue.

"Oh, I should be looking for you two?'' you raised your chin up, humored.

"Nah, but I mean... you might find something you like," Patrick replied, coolly as ever, never looking away from you even when you weren't looking at him. It was how you found yourself face to face with him when you turned your head away from Art.

"Yeah? And what's that?" you mastered your most innocent voice possible, rubbing your glossy lips together. Patrick's eyes lowered down to your lips, and he let them stay there for a while before he spoke again,

"You gonna let us find out what you like?"

No smirk this time, accompanied by unshaken eye contact. It got your heart jumping, but you played it cool, chuckling and sipping your drink,

"Y'all play too much."

"Who says we're playing?" Art interjected then, and you're met with a charming, slow-appearing smile.

“Messy. You usually have the same taste in girls?"

"I mean, yeah, we do," the boys glanced at each other and nodded good-naturedly as if assessing the question together before providing you with an answer. "But you're just... better," Art replied, and Patrick nodded.

"Better? Better how?"

"I mean... you're incredibly sexy," Patrick said as if it were self-explanatory.

"Yeah? Tell me more," you bared your teeth in a slick-mouthed smile, leaning your chin on your hand and blinking softly up at Patrick. You turned your head slowly when Art spoke.

"Your lips. They look soft," he licked his lips when you looked at him. It was like he was a completely different entity now, shrouded by the thick cloud of desire he had for you. His voice had dropped an octave lower and his lids seemed heavier. He took a sip of Cognac and leaned back just a tad.

"Got a pretty voice," you turned this time to Patrick, whose lips were turning up in a slow smile, his teeth glinting in the dark club.

"Beautiful eyes," now Art — you knew you had them right around your finger but they were proving to be more than you'd bargained for — you wondered how often they moved like this to a girl, together.

"Your body's absolutely insane," Patrick divulged.

"Personality takes the cake, too," Art chimes in.

By the time they'd finished, it felt like they were inches closer to you, encasing you in their body heat. And they had inched closer to you, the both of them cocking their head in your direction, studying your face. It all felt so practiced, yet natural. They knew just what they were doing, and that's why you didn't move a muscle. But you'd be lying if you said it didn't have an effect on you.

You didn't reply, you just sat back and slowly swallowed down the rest of your drink. All eyes were on you, the boys both leaning back against the couch and just admiring you. You set the glass down on the table in front of you and got up to stand, wiggling your dress down to readjust it.

"Let's dance."

That's how you found yourself sandwiched between Art and Patrick while a song by Miguel played. Your breaths, hot and smelling of liquor, floated against each other, bodies pressed into yours. Patrick was behind you with his hands on your waist, towering over you and looking down at you in awe. He kept it respectful, but you could feel him against your ass, poking through his ripped black jeans. Art was in front of you, your arms around his neck, just inches of space between all of you. The club was dark bar for a strobe light rotating across your faces periodically, so you could hardly see the desire in their eyes, but you could feel it. You swayed your hips to the rhythm of the song and let your head fall back against Patrick's shoulder, swaying your whole body now. Art was pressed into you, his face dipping into your neck. He nearly whimpered— you smelled like caramelized vanilla and a hint of coconut oil. He imagined you lathering your damp body in creams and oils after getting out of the shower, and had to fight an erection from forming directly against you. Meanwhile, Patrick was already half-hard.

All they felt was bliss — Patrick had more of a sense of certainty that the night would end up somewhat like this, but Art doubted they'd even be able to find you. You could sense the way they held back, waiting for you to shut it down or take it an inch further. You paused when you felt your cellphone vibrate in your purse. You pulled away gracefully from Art and Patrick, who stood there dumbly waiting for you to pull them back in. You grinned when you read the text from your friends, who knew of your whereabouts, telling you to pull up to Alicia's apartment for afters, and "bring your little white boys."

You let the boys usher you out of the club, Art with his hand on your waist trailing behind you, and Patrick taking your hand as he pushed through the crowd and out the door.

"You smell amazing," Art mentioned the minute the fresh air hit you, re-surging the scent that drove him near ballistic in the club.

You giggled at Art's sudden outburst, and the genuine admiration in his tone,

"Thank you, babe. Now, are y'all good to drive?"

| | |

Alicia's apartment was huge — her dad paid for everything, to say the least. The moment you walked in, Alicia, Nessa and Tiana crowded around you, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing over Patrick and Art.

"This your lil shit right here? Go head, then YN," Tiana stuck her tongue out raucously and you shook your head, laughing.

Before you knew it, you were pouring shots of Hennessy down each other's throats, playing a vicious game of Uno, and blasting Me & U by Cassie. Art and Patrick had some settling in to do at first, since they weren't used to being around mostly black girls — the most fun they knew how to have at parties was fist-bumping to dubstep. But they fit right in, and your friends had no trouble making them feel welcome. As the night went on, you lost some of that mysterious enigma, but it didn't make them want you any less.

Art nearly melted beneath you when you stood up above him and poured Ciroc down his throat, holding his chin up with your fresh French tips. Patrick was next, putting on a brave face, unwavering against the screeches and pointing from your friends. He made sure to keep eye contact with you, swallowing boisterously with an "ahh!" sound, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You grinned and took a swig yourself, then ran to your friends to dance with them, swaying your hips and shaking your ass in a way they hadn't seen just yet. It was like they weren't even there, it was just about you and your friends now.

"Fuck, man," Patrick blinked slow, standing beside Art just feet away from you.

Art ran his hands through his hair, in disbelief at the way your ass moved in your dress,

"I'm gonna be honest, Pat. I don't think either of us could handle that."

For the first time, Patrick nodded, wordlessly agreeing.

It didn't take long for your friends to disperse about the apartment, most of them heading out to the balcony to smoke. You decided to stay behind inside ("For your guests, right?" Nessa had snickered, smirking over at Art and Patrick).

"Are you bored to death yet? You're the only two dudes here," you sauntered over to the two boys, who were leaning against the kitchen counter. All three of you were just a bit more than tipsy, eyes bleared over and heat fanned against your cheeks, drifting about in that pleasantly warm dreamscape.

"Bored? You just baby birded both of us with Ciroc," Art guffawed, and you cocked your head to the side, looking up at him with those low, drunk eyes,

"Yeah, you want more?"

"I want whatever you have to give me," Art replied with quickness, simply entranced by your eyes and that sweet voice. You chuckled, shaking your head.

A smattering of shrieking sounded from outside on the balcony. You scoffed, swiping a joint that Alicia had rolled from off the kitchen table. You started walking down the hall, back faced to them as you said,

"They're so loud. Let's go somewhere quieter."

Art and Patrick both gave each other a glance— they weren't sure if the night would ever actually come to this, but still they didn't quite know what to expect. All they knew was that whether or not either of them could "pull" you, you were the one in charge. Your hips swung more freely from side to side as you walked loosened by the Henny and Ciroc concoctions of the night. Art and Patrick's eyes were like pendulums following your hips.

You turned into the guest bedroom, plopping down onto the bed.

"Close the door," you gestured to Art. Heart pounding, he closed it behind him.

Art and Patrick stood stupidly in front of you. You shook your head at them, laughing quietly,

"Are y'all gonna sit?"

They might as well have tripped over themselves zooming to sit next to you on the bed, one on either side of you. You had the whole world in your hands. It was silent bar for the muffled R&B music from outside. For boys who were so flirtatious, they were awfully quiet now. You shifted to place your legs underneath you, sitting on your knees, your dress riding up your thighs just so. If they looked behind you, they'd see your ass poking out a bit too.

"So. Who's idea was it, hmm?" you hummed. "I mean, you must've wanted to come find me. I'm impressed."

You lit the joint, pressing it to your lips.

"Saw your Myspace post. Thought we'd keep you company," Patrick admitted, coolly as ever, though you saw the bulge forming in his jeans, saw the way his eyes drifted down to your lips around the joint.

You tossed your head back to exhale, giggling up at the ceiling and covering your mouth with your hand.

"You thought you'd keep me company. Y'all are too good."

You passed the joint over to Art, who took a drag and exhaled while keeping it perched in the corner of his mouth, voice half-muffled as he continued,

"We just wanted to make sure you weren't lonely, that's all."

"Yeah," Patrick took the joint from Art, doing the same. "Since you don't have a boyfriend or anything."

This time, Patrick lifted the joint up to your lips for you. You leaned into it, slowly wrapping your lips around it and sucking for just a second longer than you usually would, never breaking eye contact while Patrick's smirk grew wider and wider with each passing second. You blew the smoke out and it fanned against his face.

"And how would you two know if I don't have a boyfriend?"

Art sniffed, humored, as you passed the joint to him. It was starting to hit now — a haze rose up just so slightly in the air. You relaxed into it, feeling emboldened.

"Don't think we'd be here if you did," Art shot back.

You snaked forward, taking the joint from Art's lips and putting it to your own. He let out a sharp breath at the casual dominance such an action exuded. Your face was just inches away from his— you didn't know if it was the weed, or how turned on you were after exercising the utmost self-control for the better part of the night, but you noticed that his eyes had such a gleaming strike of blue in them.

"Think you got me, is that it?" you questioned, so close to Art that if you inched any further, your nose would brush against his. He swallowed, unsure of whether he should be turned on or scared, but either way, his pants were getting tighter. Your voice was so tantalizingly quiet as if you were sharing a secret just for him and Patrick. You huffed out a humored breath. "I'm not gonna fuck you, you know."

The way you were looking at him begged to differ. You felt the strap of your dress slide down ever so gently over your left shoulder. Before you could push it up, Patrick's hand, strong and firm, was grazing against your shoulder, pushing your dress strap up. You let your gaze on Art linger for just a moment longer before you turned to Patrick, smirking. You handed him the joint, which had gone out. He placed it on the bed beside him. You were leaning in, an unmistakably seductive twinkle in your eyes as you got even closer to Patrick, murmuring under your breath,

"'M not gonna fuck you either."

“Not gonna fuck me?” Patrick smirked, looking from your hazey eyes to your lips. You pressed your lips into his, letting your eyes flutter closed as you hummed your response into his mouth,

“Mm-mm.”

A slight breath escaped Patrick, keeping his mouth open so you could slip your tongue against his. Patrick kissed you hard and slow, his hands immediately wrapping around your back as you lifted your leg over his lap and straddled him. You could feel how much he’d been wanting this by the way his tongue curved effortlessly against yours and his grip on your hips got stronger. He kissed the way he talked. Rough and hard, but with effortless ease, like he knew exactly what you liked. Maybe it was his confidence that made the kiss so good, his lips locked in perfectly with yours. You reached behind, pulling Art in as you simultaneously pushed Patrick down so his back was against the mattress. 

You pulled away from Patrick and in one fluid motion turned your head to kiss him, letting your hand wrap against his neck and run up through his hair. Patrick, who was watching from the pillow, groaned and let his head fall against the pillow. Art kissed you needily, but gentler than Patrick. He kissed you like he was parched and your lips were a fountain of water found in a barren land— like he needed to explore more. As you kissed Art, you felt Patrick’s hands kneading your ass, and you moaned — which made them both moan. It took everything in Patrick not to just lift your dress over your ass. But you must have been reading his mind because you wiggled your dress over your ass so it was finally exposed. 

“That’s it,” Patrick groaned in approval, his hands finding new purchase against your bare skin, squeezing your ass with a tender grip.

Your kiss with Art grew sloppier, spit threatening to spill out from the side of your mouth as Art pressed himself against you. You let your hand wander down to his black jeans and gripped the hard bulge that was poking out, running your hand up and down it. Patrick, not one to be left behind, took the liberty of lifting your dress a little higher so he could see the black, lacy panties you wore. He let out a low whistle, his firm on your hips grew firmer, keeping them in place as he ground his up into you, rolling up directly against your clit through your underwear. You gasped when you felt how big Patrick was, pulling away from Art to look down at the sight of Patrick’s hips snapping slowly into you. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head gently to the side so Art could press his lips against your neck. 

Patrick chuckled, but he was unable to hold back the groan that lodged in his throat. He could feel your clit pulsing through your underwear. 

“Take it off, baby,” you gestured down to Art, who scrambled to take your dress off, throwing it carelessly to the side once it was over your head. Both the boys nearly busted on the spot, because instead of being greeted with a black, lacy bra, your tits simply tumbled out of your dress, perfectly plump and brown and sitting pretty. 

“Oh my god,” Patrick groaned at the sight of your tits above him. He sat up immediately, attaching his mouth immediately to your tits. Art, a whimpering mess by this point, followed quickly, his lips wrapping around your stiff, brown nipple. They both sucked on your tits lasciviously, reserving one for each of them. The lewd sounds of their tongues sucking your plush skin as their hands fondled and squeezed you filled the room. Art was gentle, shifting from reaching a hand underneath your tit and cupping you softly to circling a gentle finger around your nipple. Patrick was more direct, grabbing you with closed hands. 

If you weren’t so turned on, you would honestly giggle at the sight— these two boys who’d been fiending for you for so long, showing you just how long they’d been waiting for this very thing. It was a wonder — the school’s prestigious tennis players who attended every frat party and had enough money to be set for life (Patrick at least), reduced to a melting puddle beneath you. At your beck and call, your mercy, even as the grind of Patrick’s dick against your clit made you soak through the panties. 

You looked down at them with a cunning smile playing on your lips, cupping both their chins softly,

“You’ve been wanting this real bad, haven’t you?”

Two pairs of needy, blissed-out eyes looked up at you immediately, their heads nodding insistently as they moaned around your nipples. You chuckled, your laugh ringing like bells in their ears. You tasted so divine and they hadn’t even tasted you where it really counts. Art decides he wants to get a head start. You felt his hand, his fingers long and spindly, travel down your body, past your soft stomach and down your thigh, until it looped back up to the waistband of your panties. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, pulling at the stretchy fabric until he let it snap against your waist. 

He pulled away, his lips warm and wet against your ear as he whispered,

“Can I?” 

You bit down on your lip and nodded, gazing at him as he let his hand travel back down until it crept into your panties, never breaking eye contact even as he dipped two fingers against your soaked slit. You trembled at his touch and he smirked, cocking his head gently as he brought his fingers to his lips, tasting you on his fingers.

“She tastes so good, Pat, you gotta try,” Art said, leaning down — Patrick, dazed, lifted his head and looked up at Art with glazed-over eyes.

You watched, rendered speechless for the first time that night as Art dipped his fingers back just slightly against you again, and placed them at Patrick’s wanting lips. Patrick sucked the taste of you off Art’s fingers like it was nothing, like he’d done it before and would do it a thousand times more. The sight of him, lifting his head up to meet Art’s fingers, made you stir above him. 

“Fuck, she’s perfect,” Patrick practically moaned, his lips hovering at Art’s fingers. He wasn’t even looking at you, still holding Art’s gaze as he dipped his hand into your panties and prodded at your slit, the pad of his finger tapping against all the arousal that’s gathered there, making wet sounds like fat raindrops collecting in a puddle. “She’s so wet already, shit.” He held Art’s gaze for a moment longer before he turned to you. 

“Can we taste you?” Art asked, his voice soft and lilted. 

You lifted yourself off of Patrick’s lap and kneeled between the two of them, taking their shirts off one by one. Art went to take off his cap, You embraced Art in a kiss first, then Patrick, until it was lost on you which was which— it was all a blur, mouths sloppily entangled and meeting in the middle, kissing each other all at once and you were certain Art and Patrick’s lips met more than a few times. Somewhere in the middle, they had pushed you back against the mattress. You whined as their lips suctioned against your body, down down down until they stopped between your thighs.

You couldn’t see whose lips were on you first, but you were sure it was Patrick, the way he dove right in without hesitation and started sucking expertly at your clit. You cried out, your back arching slightly off the bed at the sudden jolt of pleasure from the contact. You saw Patrick’s tuft of black curls right in between your thighs, and Art’s golden-orange locks just beside him, placing chaste kisses on your inner thighs, his hand massaging the plush skin there too. 

Patrick moaned from in between your legs, sending vibrations through your core and up your chest. You relaxed into his touch, pushing his head in and burying your fingers in his curls. He made sure to drag his tongue along every inch of you, pointing it into your slit and thrusting it into you, and flattening his whole tongue against you as he gave kitten licks to your pussy.

His grecian nose poked deliciously against your clit and he used it to his advantage, bobbing his head up and down each time you moaned at the point of contact. He sucked your clit gently with his lips, toyed at your slit with his finger and glanced up at you to gauge your reaction. The moan that fell from your lips as you locked eyes with him from between your legs was almost pornographic, and enough for him to slide one thick finger inside of you. 

You were writhing above him and Art, moaning ever so softly. Your tits were splayed perfectly against your chest and your face was constantly contorted in the sweetest expressions. They’d both imagined you like this, mouth open and eyes rolling back into your head, trapped in bliss. Then another finger, fucking into you deep and slow as he continued lapping up all your arousal, all while Art kissed your thighs with increasing hunger, his once soft kisses becoming wet and crazed. 

“Fuck,” Patrick pulled away, his mouth and chin glistening wet with spit and your arousal. “Art, taste her pussy. Want you to feel what I did to her.”

Art whimpered and assumed position immediately. 

“Wait,” you said, shifting and turning yourself around so you were on your knees, your pussy pulsing right in front of Art’s face while Patrick pulled down his shorts and boxers, wrapping a hand around his shaft and starting to tug slowly, groaning under his breath. Meanwhile, Art’s eyebrows rose up so far he thought they’d get stuck there, his mouth dropping slightly at the sight of your pussy throbbing around nothing, your folds dripping with a mixture of your own arousal and Patrick’s spit. 

You placed your head on the pillow, craning your neck to look back at the two boys. You liked the juxtaposition that was happening — the two of them in full control of your pleasure, while you were granting them the only thing they’d been thinking of for weeks now.

“Oh fuck,” Art whispered to himself, and Patrick chuckled darkly, squeezing the base of his cock. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but their faces in this moment were seared in your mind permanently – Art’s gaze of pure amazement, and Patrick’s wicked smirk snaking across his entire face, glaring down at your pussy. It was enough to make a shiver run down your spine, how readily they consumed you — the feeling of being wanted wasn’t new to you, but with them, it was just… different.  

“Her pussy looks so pretty after it’s been ate, doesn’t it?” Patrick noted to Art, who nodded with a broken whimper before shoving his face into your pussy, his button nose dancing against your clit as he put his tongue to work. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, your head dropping down against the pillow. Art might have been gentler, but that did not mean worse by any means.

If anything, he was passionate, noting every slight movement and sound you made and following in your stead. His tongue lappd against your clit, pleasure climbing up your spine. The new angle had you struggling to keep your legs up, but Patrick was sure to keep you in check.

“This is what you wanted right?” he proclaimed, one hand on your thigh to hold you steady, the other still stroking his cock, a bit faster now. A guttural moan surged from your throat as you nodded weakly. “Yeah? So take it. Take Art’s tongue in your pussy, fuck.”

Patrick looked down, his mouth hanging open as he watched the way Art slurped away. He detached his lips only to slide a finger in, kissing you gently as he fucked his finger into you, slow and deep and relishing the way you stretched over his finger. 

“So fucking warm,” he muttered, talking to your pussy like you and him were the only two in the room. He slipped another finger inside you, which made you cry out, pussy throbbing around his fingers. “There you go, squeeze my fingers.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, delirious. Art was rutting against the bed now, chasing his high along with you, and Patrick’s hand was working overtime on his cock, spreaidng the precum leaking from his tip along the shaft. His hand reached up to smack your ass, groaning at the way it reveberated beneath his touch. 

“You’re so fucking hot, oh my god.”

Inadvertently, you started to catch the rhythm of Art’s fingers, throwing your hips back against his fingers and his face. The sight of your ass practically covering Art’s face was almost too much for Patrick to handle — he actually glanced away for a second, hoping he could hold off on his swift-approaching orgasm. 

“Yeah, fuck back onto my face, I want you to use me,” Art moaned, muffled by your thighs wrapped around his head. 

You weren’t sure when it all happened, you just knew that you were moaning both their names as you’re sent over the edge, Patrick and Art deftly following — Patrick in his hands, Art in his jeans, hips stuttering against the bed. You squeezed around Art's fingers as you dripped down onto the bed, soaking Art's tongue and chin. It took a while for all of you to gain some semblance of reality, pushing past the haze of pleasure and smoke and bitter alcohol that you were floating in. 

“Did you come in your jeans?” Patrick’s voice cut through the foggy silence, and Art slapped his chest. 

“Shut up, look what you did to the sheets.”

You were lying on your back, gazing up at the two boys with a sated grin, resting your hands on your stomach. 

“Aren’t you glad we found you?” Patrick teased. 

You didn’t have to answer, he already knew.

i think i’m gonna have a part two for this you guys have no idea how much i was debating whether or not they should fuck in this but i feel like reader is the type to make them wait…  plus it would've actually been a novel if i added that and i wanted to get this out cuz i don't wanna keep y'all waiting!! so when they fuck they'll fuck NYASTY.

[voidsentprinces]

Emet-Selch: You seem quite comfortable with that miqo'te woman. WoL: I've now seen her naked twice. Literally there is nothing left to be awkward with between us. Emet-Selch: Not one to get lost in the details. WoL: Imma be real with you chief, after fighting the manifestation of gods, entire palaces of ancient allag, voidsents, and much more, traveling through the Swallows Compass and meeting with the Four Lords in their domains, Ivalice's secrets laid bare, and the entire Omegascape. Seeing a colleague in the buff is somehow much less interesting. Emet-Selch: I see. Ever the pragmat-- WoL: Plus I got all possible embarassment out of my system seeing Thancred naked on several occasions. Thancred: YOU DIDNT SEE SHIT! WoL: MARIA IS STILL WAITING FOR YOU TO CALL HER BACK YOU WHORE! Ryne: Thancred, what is a whore? Thancred: Its a type of dish. WoL: DON'T YOU FUCKING LIE TO HER! Emet-Selch: Yes, dear companion. Why not simply call, Maria back? Urianger: I art blessed with the knowledge that I shant ever be found in such a compromising position. WoL: Yeah, if you don't count the position Moenbryda twisted him into. Thancred: Wait--WHAT!? Y'shtola: Can we PLEASE not do this while Ryne's friend is here. Gaia: No no. Please...CONTINUE! This tea is FANTASTIC! Emet-Selch: WHO THE FUCK LET LOGHRIF IN HERE!? Mitron: Hi. Emet-Selch: ...Is there anyone ELSE here I should know about. Elidibus: Emet-Selch. I have returned from Garlemald with grim tidyings. Your great grandson has taken his body back. Emet-Selch: Is Varis dead? Elidibus: Yes. Emet-Selch: SHOTS FOR EVERYONE!

[kermahillway]

When I say imma eat your art I mean it🍽️/pos

Live visual:

Damn bitch, chew don't swallow! (but genuinely, ty.) I've injected all my artworks with chilli, sleep with the bathroom door open tonight.

[elysianhades]

Hi! I would like to request mammon x mc fluff. Maybe something like a painting date where you pass the canvases back and forth? Up to you, but just some mammon please!!!

Here you go! Thank you so much for requesting! I hope this is acceptable!

I haven't ever written Mammon before so hopefull he isn't too ooc

Somplace Only We Know

Mammon x Mc

Downy Fluff ahead!

“What’s the point in this again?” Mammon asks, watching you pull out the pencils and sketchbooks out of the bag you brought with you.

It was a smart decision on your part, for you both to ‘sneak’ to the human realm. If any of the other brothers knew about this little date the two of you had planned, you knew they would try to sabotage it, but seriously, you put too much effort in this outing for it to be spoiled by pouting demon lords. You both were sitting on a beach, a bluff actually, if you wanted to get technical. It was nice, being in weather that wasn’t actively trying to kill you. The Devildom is nice, but being able to wander around and not be sweating a concerning amount or literally bundled up is something you will never take for granted again.

“My older brother and I used to play a game like this when we were younger, granted I was 5 and he was terrible at drawing, but I also used to do this before I went to the Devildom, it helps warm up skills. Besides, I wanted to spend time with you and what better way than by doing this? It’s fun I swear!” You laugh, nudging the demon next to you with your knee.

“I trust ya, precious. It’s not everyday the Great Mammon has time off ya know? Imma very busy demon, I’m sure whatever ya planned is gonna be entertain’.” He boasts, chuckling and puffing his chest out.

You roll your eyes lovingly, a small smile on your lips as you flip one of the sketchbooks to an open page. For all the comments he was making on the way here, he did seem like he was looking forward to this and he did look like he was enjoying himself.

“Here you go, oh Great Mammon.” You tease, watching Mammon’s ears flush a rosy red when he meets your eyes and sees your smiling face. You swear you see his eyes dart between your eyes and lips once or twice before he carefully takes the offered book out of your hands. He taps his fingers on the cover as he looks around at the mini picnic you had set up. He swallows and looks at the open sketchbook on his lap, quickly flipping through the other pages, not looking at the art there but seeing how much of the book is filled.

“Ya know, one day ya should show me all the sketchbooks ya have. I’d… I’d like ta see what else you’ve made.” He quickly says, looking at you out of the side of his eye. His cheeks now are a little more colorful than they were a second ago.

“If you want to see my older art you can, be warned though, I wasn’t always as adept as I am now,” You snort at his attempt to sound nonchalant, when he is practically vibrating with the want to peek through the book in his hands, “also be warned that there are sketches of you in there.” You add on almost as an afterthought, looking at him head on to catch his reaction.

It takes a couple seconds for your statement to actually register, but you can tell when it did. His eyes widened a tiny bit and his jaw unclenched before the red covered his face and he was choking on nothing. His head whipped over to you as he tried to catch his breath and at this point you were struggling to breathe as well because you were trying not to laugh at him. It was a funny concept to you though, how he could get pictures taken of himself all the time in different positions and not bat an eye but the thought of a few messy drawings are enough to derail any thoughts in his head.

“Well- ah- I mean, of course ya have sketches of me in here, I’m pretty great aren’t I.” He coughs, clearing his throat and looking away from you to try and regain his composure, “seriously though treasure, ya have ta warn me before ya say sappy things like that. Oi! Wait! I better be the only one who you’ve drawn! My brothers better not be in here as well! Just me! I’m yer first after all!”

You chuckle and shake your head as you pull another (almost full) sketchbook out of your bag. This one probably has two or three more pages in it until it’s full, you figured now would be the best time to finish it. You hum as you turn your shoulder so the flustered demon next to you can see the contents of the book. There are a lot of drawings of sceneries around RAD, the castle, even the House of Lamentation, but if the few drawings of people that could be seen, they were all different poses and styles of Mammon doing different things.

Mammon counting grimm, Mammon talking to one of the crows that always follow him around, him grabbing the popcorn bowl from a movie night, him mid-stretch, and so many workshops of his hands in different positions and holding different things. What can you say? He has some attractive hands. You hear a strange dying noise from right beside you. A noise you know is his ‘I don’t know whether to feel giddy or be embarrassed’ he’s made it enough times for you to know what it means.

“Come on, let’s start! I’m going to set a timer on my phone for 15 minutes! During those 15 minutes I want you to draw what you see, could be the beach, could be the water, could be the sky, it doesn't matter. After the timer is up, we are gonna switch books and I’ll continue what you are drawing and you’ll continue mine! I think we should do this two or three times just to be safe. You can use any of the pencils here, anything I’ve brought is free range! Have at it. Do you need some time to think of something to draw or should I start the timer now?” You explain, bouncing lightly, excited to start.

It takes a minute for Mammon to find his words again, but eventually he is able to form a coherent sentence. He looks at the jar full of different colored pencils you have sitting on the blanket, at the pens that are being held together by a rubber band, and finally at the scene around him.

“Yeah, I think I got somethin. Jus no peekin til the time’s up!”

“Ok then! I’m starting the timer!” You cheer, pressing the ‘start’ button on your phone and get to drawing.

The thought to draw Mammon does cross your mind, for multiple reasons, but as soon as those thoughts appear you brush them away, you think he would combust if he saw that right out of the gate. The place that you decided to sit for this date is a bit of a walk away from the trail you had to take to get here. The way to get to this particular bluff was a tiny bit of a walk but it was worth it. Normally, you would park on the side of the road and then walk through the trail to the beach, but since magic was a thing, you were able to teleport right to where the trail through the forest meets the ocean. The beach looks like it's separated into two parts, there's a sandy side where driftwood is littered all over the sand, some pieces so big that people who have visited before have made little forts out of them, broken seashells are scattered throughout the beach as well, sandbars, old sand dollars, huge clumps of seaweed and crab shells are in sight as well.

The other side of the beach is where you both haven’t gotten to look at yet, but it has rocks covered in barnacles everywhere. The rocks are practically on top of eachother, and you can’t even see the sand without having to move rocks. You also know however, that if you lift up the little rocks, that you’ll see tiny crabs. If you guys are lucky, you might even be able to see a sea snail. You hum, since it is the first round, you decide to draw something easy. You start sketching the part of the beach that meets the forest, with all the driftwood and the trees.

As you start getting into your drawing, you hear Mammon start muttering to himself, he is talking too quietly for you to hear what he is saying. Angling your body towards him, you can see he is hunched over to ensure you couldn’t see what he is drawing. His tongue is poking out of his lips in concentration, and every now and then he’ll look at what he has on the paper hum, then nod before getting back to drawing. Smiling, you go back to your own piece, relieved that he is enjoying himself. Before you know it, your phone is going off, signaling that it’s time to switch books.

“Now remember human, no judgin’!” Mammon all but shouts, hiding the book to his chest and mock-glaring at you.

“Yeah, how about we make a deal then? I won’t judge yours and you won’t judge mine? We’re doing this for fun anyway, it’s not like I’m gonna grade you on it.” You smile, making grabby hands at his book. He grumbles before slowly handing the sketch and the pencil over to you. You are much more enthusiastic about trading with him.

Both you and Mammon are still as you look over each other’s work. You can’t imagine why he thinks you would judge him for what he has done so far, it looks so good. He chose to draw the scene in front of both of you, with the water, the islands in the back, and the sun in the middle of the sky. The lines are good and you can clearly see what he was drawing. He also whistles when he is done looking at yours.

“Wow, baby, ya sure are talented. Like actually, this is damn good.” Mammon praises, smiling as he looks over it one more time. He held up the book so he could see the comparison side-to-side. You feel heat rush up to your face and ears and try to hide your face by grabbing your phone to start the timer over and clearing your throat to swallow the giddy embarrassment you feel. “You’re telling me that? Honey, you should have told me you could draw, we would’ve done this sooner.” You say, determined to fluster him as well and make him know he is talented. God knows he isn’t told enough.

Your compliment works, he chokes again and whips his head over to you. His eyes are searching yours, you can tell he is trying to see if you are teasing him or making fun of him. You tilt your head and look at him, giving him a smile. When he finds no trace of a lie in your words, you can see a sheepish smile break across his face. He slowly reaches over to grab your hand, giving you time to move yours away if you didn’t want him to hold it.

“Yer the best thing to happen to me treasure,” he starts, pausing and looking back over to the beach and the picnic you set up when you first got here. “I know I don’t say it as much as I should, but ya really mean everything to me.”

“You might not be able to say it as often as you want, but you show me everyday how much I mean to you and that’s more than enough. I love you, Mammon.” You smile, squeeze his hand as you talk. You sigh and look down at the sketchbook in your lap. “We have a tiny problem, honey.”

“Yeah? What?” He looks around to see if he can see what you are referring to. He doesn’t notice anything that could have dampened your mood, and you don’t look unhappy. You tsk and lightheartedly shake his hand still in yours.

“I don’t want to draw anymore, I just want to focus on you.” You don’t mind how warm your face feels being this vulnerable, you know you’re safe with Mammon here.

He snorts at your confession, shaking his head and squeezing your hand. He grabs both books and closes them before putting them back in your bag with the pencils. He carefully pulls you into his chest and shifts so you can lean on him comfortably. He promptly ignores his own blush as he holds you.

“Well, we are here for the whole day, I’m sure we can get back to drawin’ after ya get yer cuddling fix out of the way. An I love ya too by the way, more than anythin’.”

[the-magical-bell-pepper]

Are you ever sick and you think back on your life like a week ago and the times where you took breathing and being able to swallow for granted

My current life now and yesterday when I could barely get out of bed and ate once in the morning and stayed in bed the rest of the day + headaches, dizziness, bed hair in a claw clip for god knows how long ;v;

IMMA TRY TO MAKE A NEW ART POST SOON ENOUGH PLS DONT GIVE UP ON ME😿

toodles:3

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Can you give a snippet with Z-dog? Or Ja

Absolutely! I haven’t written anything with Ja yet but I do have plenty of Auntie Z! Enjoy 💙

******************************************************************

Papa nodded towards the hallway. “Come look at this Z…”

“Pa!” Miles whined, already embarrassed.

“Oh you hush. I’m allowed to brag about y’a. Come here Z, look at what Junior made.” Pa proudly displayed the handful of paintings and drawings Miles had done since coming home, all beautifully hung in frames made by his father.

“Wow,” Z said, taking it in. Miles stayed rooted to his spot, bashfully staring at the floor. Z, catching his discomfort, smiled gently. “These are really amazing M.J. You're incredibly talented.”

Papa walked to his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “he still gets a little uncomfortable when he’s praised but he’s gettin’ better. Look at your work son. It really is amazin’, isn’t it?”

Miles analyzed his art, seeing plenty of flaws. But he could at least admit it was better than average. “Yeah Pa, it’s good.”

“Good? It’s great!”

“I think he knows he’s talented cap,” Z interjected. “He’s just being humble. Right M.J?”

Miles grinned, incredibly thankful for the out. “Yeah! Humble! You wouldn’t want me getting a big head, right Pa?”

Pa smirked, though his eyes were soft. He roughly ruffled Miles' hair. “I’m pretty sure y’a already have a big head.”

Miles laughed while ducking his “big head” away from his father. “And who’d I get it from!”

“Definitely your dad,” Z said.

“Hey!”

Z shrugged, “what? You wanna say he got it from Paz.”

Pa chuckled, “course not.” He put Miles in a headlock, using his other hand to cup Miles’ chin. “Look at this pretty face. You think he got that from me?”

“Hell no!” Z cheered.

Miles grinned as he was released. Papa clapped his hands together once, refocusing the conversation. “Alright now. Bathroom down the hall. Kitchen over there. Help yourself to whatever y’a want. Y’a can set your things in Junior’s room. He’ll bunk with me while you’re here.”

This was the first time Miles had heard of this arrangement but he didn’t mind. Z turned to him, “is that okay with you M.J? I’ll be just fine sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh he don’t care…”

“I was asking my nephew,” Z snapped, danger clear in her tone.

The tension rose. Miles swallowed nervously. “Yeah auntie. I’m fine with that.”

Papa smirked, “well now that that’s settled Imma get back to choppin’ wood. Junior, help your aunt get settled in. If y’a need me just holler.”

[rottingskunk]

This is not fandom related in anyway shape or form. A more personal post once more but not in a sapphic way.

If anything this is me rambling about things i did as a kid that honestly feels like i should be checked for neurodivergency (tbf theres more things i could say—) (i am not a professional this is only me explaining some experiences i had in the past/present not a diagnostic tool i get that)

~~

1. As a kid i learnt about the fines if you don’t wear a seatbelt inside your car (its higher for drivers and those in the front seat?) I would repeat the same prices every single morning when i left for school to my driver for several years. Consistently. It stopped during the pandemic (might pick it up again i like reminding ppl to be safe)

——

2. Apparently as a baby i would always cry whenever people started clapping after mass. As a kid i hated the sound of fireworks to the point i wore giant headphones while opening presents.(i want one so bad again what🧍‍♂️) To this day my ears are atill hella sensitive and now theres tinnitus in my right ear how fun!/sarcastic on fun

—-

3.As a kid till now i have a hard time eating vegetables. Their texture is the WORST to swallow, feels slimy or too wet yuck. But if its vegetables that are already mixed or hidden from me (such as shanghai or overall in food wrappers) i eat it more.(my brain works in funny ways, spinach cheese dip is my favorite thing in the world)

—-

4.My room currently and before always and i mean always had collections of things i was interested in. Not once in my life was i not collecting or gathering something for my interests. As a kid it was Lps,monster high and barbie. Nowadays its anime stuff,kpop merch and other things, ANYTHING NOVEL I FORGOT THAT

—-

5.relating to outcasts….this is self explanatory and also especially weird kids who get nd coded by the community (i love those hcs so much)

—-

6. Hypothetically have a special interest in the arts especially drawing, singing, broadway theatre,jewelry making (these lasting for years, jewelry making still new tho for at least 2 years)

(Thats all imma say for now idk what this is just rambling?? Oh well) If anyone relates i suppose feel free to comment or reblog bai bai!

[actualbird]

I got distracted reading 4-04 and 4-05 i totally forgot the actual thing i was supposed to ask you today, what are your thoughts on the kinds of shows the nxx team wouldve watched as kids growing up. MC and Luke have apparently watched animes and even dressed up as characters but i have this need to know the finer details. LIKE. WHAT DID YOU WATCH SPECIFICALLY?? And i remembered you said luke was the one who probably understood most of the terms zangr was saying so like?? Luke do you like these kinds of things?? -Marsh

MARSH, thank you so much for this ask and for the SPECIFIC WORDING "watched as kids growing up." because that makes me have to go back in time and thusly uncovering by far my favorite yet most under-utilized and never-brought-up detail of tears of themis:

the story of this game takes place in the year 2030

DO U HAVE ANY IDEA HOW FUNNIER THIS MAKES SHIT???? AND ALSO HOW MUCH MORE SENSE STUFF MAKES??? let me explain myself by going thru all the boys one by one

luke pearce

YEAH HE SAID HE AND MC WERE RLLY INTO ANIME AS KIDS. luke pearce who is 24 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2018-2021. this period of time, anime started getting more and more accessible, most notably getting on netflix and stuff like this. so like all the anime on netflix rn? yeah luke's watched them.

though because i kin luke, imma say that his fave is fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood. ive got no characterization proof for this, i just want to give him this honor

additionally, luke is a HUUUUGE fan of the original Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle novels (ACD Sherlock) and i think this would have pushed him to watch like, just every popular sherlock media adaptation there is. he personally liked Elementary better than BBC Sherlock. he generally just gravitates to the adaptations that dont forget about the heart of all of the characters.

also also also, luke likes action movies ranging from "hey this is "good" to critics" to "this is a shit movie but MY GOD IS IT FUN!!!"

artem wing

artem wing who is 29 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2013-2016. but also artem is a MOVIE SNOB LMAOOO, hes That Guy with the Opinions On Film and you bet that his analytical ass was into just the most extra shit to watch those days because no teenager is chill, every teenager has some kind of ego, i dont know what movies he would have watched at that point to be the Smartest Teenager About Movies, but he sure did watch them

though artem also is very into sci-fi literature and 2013-2016 had a BUUUNCH of huge sci-fi movies. Pacific Rim, Gravity, Interstellar, Arrival. Arrival is deffo artem's fave, dont fight me on this, i can explain further but not in this answer bc it will get LOOONG LOL

artem also is into "classics" which uh. wait artem what do you Mean by that, what is a "classic" for somebody born in 2001??? i dont really know exactly what he means by "classics" so i just take it to mean he's a slut for period dramas which leads me to my closing point

"Once upon a time, when [Artem] was younger, around 17 years old, he pondered identifying as asexual or as one of the subsets under that term, but he put that aside after he first watched Pride and Prejudice (2005). He had then acquired a recurring fantasy in which he would be sensually accosted by Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in a secluded study after months of furtive, charged glances, lingering, split second touches, double entendres classily and subtly masked but still implying a repressed yet voracious—Moving on." -an excerpt from my comedy smut fic where artem goes thru a crisis. yeah. yeah. Pride and Prejudice dir. Joe Wright was his bisexual awakening.

MOVING ON!!

vyn richter

vyn richter who is 27 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2015-2018 but honestly that doesnt help me AT ALL LOL BECAUSE VYN IS A TOUGH NUT TO CRACK.....

like honest to god i cant even imagine vyn as anything other than an adult KJBSJKFS (which is depressing, if i think about it more... but also what vyn would want, i assume he would hate for people to have known him as a child, imperfect and shunned.....which is ALSO DEPRESSING. VYN, U GOOD???)

okay yknow what im not studied enough in Vyn Richter Studies so i will come back to this once ive gotten more of his story and know more of his (what im theorizing to be a SHITASS TERRIBLE) childhood history. so vyn, i guess ur safe from me....ur safe FOR NOW, THAT IS....

marius von hagen

marius von hagen who is 21 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2021-2024. good fucking lord, marius was born in 2009 and that makes him so young that his Important Media Ages arent even DONE HAPPENING IN OUR CURRENT TIMELINE, JESUS....

2021 is an interesting era of entertainment because it is getting steadily more and more apparent that corporate greed is trying to swallow up good storytelling; movies and shows are made as fast food products to be consumed immediately and thrown away just as fast. there are smarter posts and articles talking about this, but my point here is that marius "believes SO MUCH in art and art's capability to make a difference" von hagen would HATE THIS SO MUCH and, through spite, get into a lot of indie medias that dont necessarily sell. smaller movies, tv shows that got cancelled way before they should have.

oh, hey, MARIUS WAS 12 YEARS OLD IN 2021, yeah he could have watched The Owl House and threw a fucking FIT when disne/y nerfed the show's third season. he has not forgiven and he has not forgotten.

regardless of his age, marius, at some point in his teens watches Vincent and the Doctor (s5 e10 from Doctor Who). for those who dont know this episode, it involves Vincent Van Gogh and a bunch of sci-fi stuff but, at the end, a scene where Van Gogh is taken to the future and shown the impact his art has made on people. please watch it, if you havent it, it's very good and no words can do the experience justice.

anyway yeah marius watches it and it makes him FUCKING SOB

yeah so these are my takes kdjbfdsjfs

[felix21im]

"Ice Cold", a Leon Kennedy x reader fanfiction

As an Art and Design student all you want to do is just knuckle down and finish that one goddamn piece you've been working on for months. Too bad your time is constantly stolen by your Waiter job with minimal pay, but hey, at least the tips are good if you unbutton your shirt that one more time.

Masterlist

Chapter 2: The Sketches

“It’s ten A.M. dumbass, get out of bed.” You woke up to the sound of your roommates voice and the feel of a pillow hitting your face. “We have our reservation in like fifteen minutes…”

The reminder of your scheduled fancy breakfast with your roommate managed to wake you up fully and you instantly ran into the bathroom to have a shower.

As you stood there with the water running on your skin you began to feel your head pounding. “Great, a fucking hangover.” You muttered as you turned the shower knob, stopping the water and leaving you cold. You stepped out of the shower with a towel hanging over your shoulders and sat down on the toilet seat. "Hey, can you maybe make me some tea or coffee or something? I got a headache, probably overworked or something" you lied, shouting to your roommate.

“Yea sure 'overworked', huh? Don't worry, I'll make something but get ready already!" You dried yourself with a small towel and put on some light clothes. A pair of shorts and a white shirt, it was hot outside due to it being summer and wearing anything other than shorts is a death sentence. You didn't feel like styling your hair so you just refreshed yourself, hoping you wouldn't look too bad. You stepped out of the small bathroom and were greeted by your roommate who handed you a glass of water with a pill. "I'm sure this will help more than just some tea.. after your 'overworking'". They winked at you and you feared they thought something different than what actually happened.

"Hey hey hey, that's not what happened okay? Imma tell you when we're eating, alright? But don't assume anything wrong, you hear me?" You laughed a little, but had to stop because of your headache. You took the glass of water and the mysterious pill, placing it in your mouth and then swallowing it with a gulp of water. You then saw your friend standing at the door, already wearing shoes and ready to go out. You sigh as you grab a pair of sneakers from under your bed, practically jumping straight into them.

“I read the reviews of this restaurant we’re going to and legit like all of them say that it’s super cold in there, you might want to grab your jacket.” They get the jacket off of the back of the door and hold it out for you to take.

“Thank you, thank you.” You accept the jacket and fold it over your arm as you place your phone in the pocket, but rather than it going straight in like normal, something is in there and blocks it from sitting perfectly. You place your phone in your back pocket and reach your hand into your jacket, pulling out a white envelope. The envelope was a little heavy and had a note written on it “This semester is on me, think of it as payment for agreeing to decorate my house - Leon S. Kennedy.” You slit the envelope open and it looked identical to your tips envelope, absolutely filled with cash. You let out a small gasp. "Holy shit."

You looked at your roommate who also looked at you and the envelope laying in your hand. "Yeah, holy shit. Are you working as a stripper now or how'd you get all the money suddenly?"

“Although I would be a great stripper… No.” You look at the cash, not knowing what to do with it. "I have to give it back. I can't just keep all.. this."

“Uh?! Yes you can!” Your roommate looked at you like you were an idiot. “That's like five grand there! If you’re not going to take it I will gladly take it for you!”

"No way! I can't just accept this money!” You close the envelope and place it on the desk on your side of your shared room. “This doesn't feel right, you know that." You thought about what you're going to do next. You looked between your friend and the money and decided you need to do the right thing. "I'm sorry, but I have to return it. As soon as I get my paycheck I will go out to eat breakfast with you, I promise! But I need to do this. Sorry." You grabbed the envelope again and walked past your roommate and out the door, giving them a look of excuse. They simply scoffed and slammed the door behind you.

As you sat outside on the curb you used your phone to look up where you were last night so that you could get Leon’s address. As you ordered your taxi it asked you for some contact details. “Kennedy.” You chuckled as you entered that as your last name, thinking it would be a funny joke. On your way you texted your roommate once again, apologizing for your behavior but not for your need to do the right thing. You sighed as you put your phone in your pocket and looked out the window.

After some time you arrived at what appeared to be Leon's home. You couldn’t really see it the night before since it was dark, but it looked even better during the day than you could have imagined before. You paid the taxi driver, with your own money this time, then left the car and went towards that big door. You looked for a bell but couldn't find one so you knocked against the thick wood, hoping someone would even hear it. After repeating this a couple more times and almost giving up, the door opens and you are greeted by a woman. She was wearing a white dress shirt and a black bustier over the top, followed by a black pair of trousers. Confused, you looked at her and then at the house, thinking you were wrong. "Can I help you with anything?" The woman asked, not even bothering to ask you inside.

"Uhm.." you stuttered, not knowing what to do in this situation. "I thought someone else lived here, but I guess I'm wrong. Sorry for bothering you." Something inside you actually hoped you typed in the wrong address. This couldn't be Leon's home, right? But it looked so similar? Maybe all the drinks added up over the night and made me remember this wrong..? You thought back to the day before and remembered how Leon was actually texting someone and didn't tell you a name or something. Maybe he actually has a wife or something and I misunderstood last night. Maybe he actually paid me to.. stay away? You shook your head. That's bizarre. Or is it?

"Who did you think lived here then? Maybe I can help you." You were taken back to reality from that woman's voice and looked at her.

Fumbling with your hands you tried to form a whole sentence, but all that came out was "Kennedy."

She looked at you. "Do you mean Leon Kennedy?" You nodded your head, still hoping you were wrong here. "Well, it appears you are right then. May I ask how you know him? I've never seen anyone like.. you here." It seemed to you she spit that 'you' out as if you were something less worthy than her. But maybe you were once again imagining things.

"Well, we actually met yesterday and he invited me to come over. I forgot to give something to him, so that's what I'm here for now. Can I see him now?" You looked at the woman standing in your way, trying to be confident.

“Mr. Kennedy is out of the house at the moment and he won’t be back for a few hours. I will tell him that you stopped by.” She stepped back from the door. “Bye now.” She practically slammed it in your face, the waft from the door causing your messy hair to blow backwards.

You rolled your eyes and sat down on the steps, exactly where you were sitting with Leon last night. You searched through your contacts and found Leon’s name. After tapping the call button it rang four times before you heard a rough “Hello?” come from the other side.

It took you back a little as it sounded like you had just woken him up. “Oh, hiya Leon.” You looked back at the front door as you began to talk. “I’m sitting on your doorstep right now…” You then looked back at the driveway, the pebbles and the green grass perfectly manicured. “I wanted to swing by to drop off that money you left in my jacket.”

“What, why?” He sounded confused. You could tell that he pulled the phone away from his face when he coughed, probably trying to clear his throat. “That money is for you, Buttercup.” He chuckled, making you blush a little. “You’re not supposed to give it back to me.” Sounds could be heard in the background as he talked but you couldn't tell what they were.

"Is there anyone with you right now?" You didn't even think about that question before it left your mouth.

"Don't worry about it. And also don't worry about the money. It's a gift, just accept it." You let out a small laugh.

"Just accept it? This is more money than I would make in two months! I can't just accept that, Leon! I can leave it with your girlfriend if you don't want to take it back, but I won't keep it." It was silent on the other side. You were worried you took it too far now.

But then, a chuckle and a full out laugh. "Girlfriend? I'm sorry, but you probably went to the wrong house. I don't have a girlfriend, partner or whatever, Buttercup." You could hear him still chuckle on the other side of the phone, but you didn't feel like laughing.

You felt kind of dumb right now. "Well, whoever that woman was, she just shut the door before me and left me sitting in front of it. So I guess I'm just gonna leave the envelope under the doormat." You looked around. There wasn't even a doormat. "YOU DON'T HAVE A GODDAMN DOORMAT? LEON S KENNEDY WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST THREE YEARS?" You heard him laugh out loud again and didn't even try to stop him from it. You just sighed and gave it up. "Well, Mr. Kennedy, I'm gonna find a place to put that money. And don't even think of sneaking it back to me, you hear me?" You didn't even wait for an answer and just hung up. You sat on the stairs for a few more minutes thinking about what to do next.

Just as you stood up to leave you heard the door behind you opening again. "Mr. Kennedy just called me. He wants me to let you inside. Please take off your shoes here and.. don't touch anything." There is not even a thing to touch here, what do you want? You went through the doors and left your shoes next to them. The woman looked at you again before turning her back and walking away. So now you just stood there, in this empty, big house with a woman who doesn't seem to like your company.

Just like the night before you went through the entire house looking around, but also trying your best to avoid that woman. At some point you even found some paper and a pen and began drawing some rooms with fitting, and for now missing, furniture. After a while you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket so you put your drawing away and checked your messages. Apparently Leon tried to call you a few times but ended up sending you a message instead. You opened and read it. I'll be back home in a few hours. Please just accept the money, but stay for as long as you'd like to. I wanna see you again later. - Leon. You had to smile. Who even puts their name at the end of a message nowadays? You just replied with a quick 'alright' before putting your phone away again. You went back to what you were doing: planning and drawing the interior design of Leon's big ass home, all from memory from your tour last night.

You ended up placing all of your designs and sketches on the floor in what you assumed was supposed to be a living room. It just had two simple fabric couches facing each other in the middle of a giant room. Each design was placed in order, somewhat resembling the floorplan of the house. You didn't know how much time passed, but you began to feel tired and had to take a small break. Since you didn't wanna cross paths with that grumpy woman, you just stayed in that room. After some time of relaxing you felt really tired and didn't have any more motivation to plan the last few rooms. It must have been the combination of lack of sleep and whatever that pill was that your roommate gave you, so you ended up sitting on one of the couches and you began to close your eyes. Before you even knew it you fell on your side and into a light sleep.

The sound of a door slamming against the wall scared you half to death. As you looked towards the noise, you saw the same woman from earlier looking at you. “My apologies.” She smiled as she looked to the other side of the room. You followed her eyes and noticed she was looking at Leon. He was sitting opposite you with all of your sketches in his hands. You rubbed your eyes, trying to look somewhat alive. Leon didn't even look at her or you, he was way too focused on your drawings. Next to him you saw a laptop, where he seemed to type a few things in separate to going through your sketches. You sat up and slowly walked towards him. Without looking up from the drawings he talked to you. "These drawings are amazing. When did you make all of these?"

You were flustered by his actual interest. "Uhm.. I just made them for fun while waiting for you.. I didn't even take it seriously.." You scratched the back of your head.

"Are you kidding me? You probably.. no, you DID more for the interior design in the past few hours than I or Angel over there did in the past three years!" You were kind of confused by the name. Angel? Her? Was that supposed to be an unfitting nickname or her actual name? You didn't want to ask so you kept that thought to yourself. After Leon's comment Angel looked at you even more disgusted than before, it's a wonder that was even possible.

You wanted to ignore the weird feeling that stood in the room, so you just sat down next to Leon on the couch. "What are you doing on your laptop?" You wanted to look at it but before you had the chance to make out what he typed in earlier he closed it.

"Nothing special, don't worry about it." You sighed but didn't push it. After a few seconds of awkward silence between the three of you Leon stood up from the couch with his laptop, walked towards Angel and gave it to her. You looked at him confused, but he didn't even notice that. He said something to the woman but you couldn't understand it since they were so close to each other. You didn't know what, but a weird feeling spread in your body. Jealousy? You had to laugh out loud, which made the two look at you.

"Is there a problem?" Angel asked you, to which you answered with a head shake.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking about... something funny." You saw Leon's lip lift up a little bit which made you smile a little bit, too. Angel turned back from you and Leon led her out the door to the main hall.

You could hear them talk for a few minutes before the door opened again and Leon came back in alone. "Soo.. now that you're awake, do you want to grab something to eat? We can drive somewhere or I'll just order something."

You thought about the offer, but instantly remembered why you came here in the first place. "No way, Leon! I can't take any more money from you. I actually came here to give you back that money you left in my jacket. It's good for you to have so much but I can't keep it! This doesn't feel right." You looked at him frustrated.

He just shook his head while laughing. "I told you it wasn't for nothing. You literally just proved me right with giving it to you after seeing your drawings. You earned that money."

You were kind of flustered but still couldn't just accept it. "Leon, it's really nice of you and I don't wanna argue. But you gave me way more money than these few sketches are worth! My roommate even thought I started working as a stripper!"

Leon looked at you with big eyes, then stepped closer to you. "Well.. have you considered working as one? They make a good amount of money and I'm sure you would do great." He winked at you as he laughed out loud and even though you knew he was joking you turned completely red.

"Leon...what. the. hell. No! Of course I didn't think about working as one! I'm happy with my current job.. I guess." You looked at him again, realizing how close he suddenly was to you.

"Well, if that's what you think, alright. But I'm not gonna miss that money and I'm sure you will bring it to good use. So please, stop arguing with me and just accept it." His smile had disappeared and his face was a little more serious, he really wanted you to take that money.

“I can’t, Leon.” You grabbed his hand from his side and placed the filled envelope in his palm. “It’s too much." He looked at you disappointed, as if all he just said meant nothing. "Whatever." He muttered to himself. It made you feel bad for your behavior but you knew it was the right thing to do.

You looked at him in a sorry way and wanted to walk past him. But he blocked the way. "That's all I came for, Leon. I think it's better I leave now. Your Angel is probably waiting for you already."

He scoffed at your comment. “I think you misunderstood something here. Angel is her actual name. If I had to give her a nickname it would be anything but Angel, believe me. She can be a pain in the ass, but she gets her work done. And that’s all that matters for me.”

You let out yet another sigh. Why were you relieved anyway? Whatever Leon is doing with women, or men, was none of your business. You’ve literally only known him for like a day and act like a jealous partner. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say it like that.”

“You don't have to apologize all the time, sweetheart. I thought it was cute.” He gave you a little wink and you felt your face heat up again. You looked away shyish and waited for his next move. But it appeared he did the same since he was just looking at you, waiting for you to say something. “Ehem..Food, right? I guess that´s what you wanted. Soo... Do you have anything special in mind?” He looked at you with a childish smile and simply answered “Just you wait, I have something great in mind.”

“Pizza?” You chuckled. “I didn’t think a fancy man like you ate peasant food like that.” You picked up your phone and began looking up a place that would deliver to Leon’s house

“Oh come on! Who doesn’t like pizza?” He shuffled over on the floor so that he was sitting beside you, looking at your phone. “The third one down.” He pointed at a restaurant named The Broadway. “That’s the best one around here, trust me, I’ve tried them all.”

“Alrighty.” You tapped on the phone number and as it rang you held it up to your ear. “Oh hiya! I’m looking to place an order for delive-”

“Pick-up. They only do pick-up.” Leon interrupted you.

“For pick-up!” You corrected yourself. When the worker asked for your name you couldn't help yourself. “For Kennedy.” Leon chuckled slightly and shook his head.

You ordered food for the two of you and some simple drinks to go with it. Of course Leon would get wine for the two of you but there’s nothing wrong with soda, especially when you’re already eating a greasy pizza. “Do we get Angel anything?” You asked Leon in response to the other person on the end of the call asking if anything else was wanted.

“She loves garlic bread, just get her some of that.” Leon replied, looking up from his own phone.

After the guy on the phone told you a time to pick up the food both you and Leon put on some shoes and went outside. “You gonna drive up to that poor pizza place with your fancy Porsche?” You asked jokingly.

To your surprise he actually shook his head. “You can choose the car if you want to. If you got a driver's license, you can even drive it yourself.”

You looked at him shocked. “Yea, sure. I’m gonna drive one of your expensive cars. Even if I had a license I wouldn't dare to sit down on the driver's seat. If I destroy it there's no way I'll ever be able to pay for the repair!”

“What’s one car more or less?” As he said that and you looked at him with an open mouth you heard a garage opening next to you. The bright lights kinda blinded you at first but as soon as you got used to the brightness you saw multiple cars and motorcycles standing in the big garage.

“Wow. What the hell.” That was all you were able to say at that moment. “I’m guessing that this is like your passion or a hobby?” You said as you walked in. Each vehicle was spotless, so clean that you could see your reflection in each one.

“Yeah, something like that, you could say.” As he was moving past the different vehicles he told you a little bit about all of them. Even though you had zero knowledge of cars and stuff you listened to him closely, trying to understand what he told you. You could see it in his eyes how he loved talking about these things, which made you smile.

After a good twenty minutes however you had to stop him. “As much as I love listening to you blabber away, I really wanna get our pizzas now.” Exactly at that moment your stomach began to growl, making you and Leon laugh.

“Well then, I hoped you listened closely. Go on and pick a ride.” He gestured around the both of you. You were thinking for a few seconds before finding a car you liked. You pointed towards it. “I like this one.” He followed your gaze and walked towards the car.

“I see. So you like the big ones, huh? Well then this Jeep Grand Cherokee is perfect for your needs.” He talked like he advertised the car which made you laugh and shake your head. He opened the passengers door for you before taking a seat behind the wheel. In just a few seconds the car left the garage and you found the both of you on the main road. Leon drove the car with ease which really fascinated you.His left hand was on the wheel and he was leaning on his right arm, he probably noticed you staring because he turned to you. “You wanna take over? The streets are empty here anyway.”

You shook your head again. “I meant what I said before. Just you drive now, I'm starving.” He looked back to the street and the rest of the drive went on quiet but nice. “I’ll learn to drive another day.”

Once you got back to Leon’s house Angel greeted Leon at the door, completely ignoring you. Leon tossed his keys to her and she caught them with one hand. As both you and Leon kicked off your shoes Angel hopped into the car and placed it back into the garage with the rest of them.

Leon led you to the kitchen and placed the multiple boxes on the counter, rather than sitting down he reached into a cupboard and pulled out two wine glasses. “Red or white?” He asked you.

“I don’t really want to drink tonight.” You admitted. That small hangover you had this morning wasn’t all that bad but you didn’t want to repeat it.

“Are you sure?” He asked, filling up both glasses with ice cubes. “I would hate to drink alone.”

“Fine.. but only one glass!” You gave in, to which Leon held both of the glasses up in confusion. “Huh? Oh! Red!” You replied to his earlier question. Leon nodded and opened up a small wine refrigerator he had under the counter, he picked up a bottle and read the label to himself. “Only the finest huh?”

“The finest thing is sitting right in front of me.” He chuckled and winked at you as he poured the two glasses, placing the fresh cork on the countertop. “So is this a business date where I hire you to be my interior decorator?”

“I’m only a student, Leon.” You opened one of the boxes and a waft of the smell of the food hit your senses, making you feel even more hungry than before.

“Whatever you say, student. This doesn’t change the fact that you already helped me a lot today. So this one is on you.” He raised his glass and with a cling both of yours met. You took a small sip and then took out a piece of pizza. “Besides, wouldn’t furnishing such a fancy house like this look really good on your resume?” You nodded slightly.

“Yea, you´re probably right about that, too. But let's not talk about work now and just enjoy the evening.” He gave you a smile before eating and drinking too. That evening seemed to never end as the both of you talked and drank, with no end in sight.

Maybe working for Leon wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

A/N: hey guys! This fanfiction is a Collab from me and Qwertyyy12 on AO3. If you want to, you can also leave her some love over there :) thanks for reading!

----

Taglist: @trinswhimsys

[mushangaa]

fhjdhfgjksdhfsdhfjksdhgjdfhg <3<3<3<3<3<3 all my feels okay all my feels just get put in a blender when @tervaneula does arting or writing. Like I said before... you come home from a snowstorm to warmth and love. Ffffffffff Just so fucking inspiring. YOU. inspiration. hSAHFHHSDGHHSDSDHJSH And yehhhh i need to haunt the tag soonish it is kinda hard with how many people I follow across the board and have that all on one feed and then you get invested in a wip for 5 hours or more gotta work and cook and other stuff and whoops that's a lot of tumblr tumblring in the meantime. I gotta look around if there is an extension or something maybe to just... add people to a separate list. Or I make an entire new e-mail adress to hook up on tumblr just for notifications so they do not get swallowed rahhh the one time I wish for something more streamlined to organize. (the only thing to miss about DA these days, the message center that would group uploads for each artist in folders in your inbox all neat and shit it was perfect.) Imma figure it out bc damn damn damn okay I needed to SEE this piece in particular so bad I am still feeling that echo and my heart is so full. ALSO thank you so much for adding that and the Mermaid piece to your shop bc I have such a need. For both of these. A lot. Crying your honour.

@mushangaa just casually once again tugging on my heartstrings with these tags. Never change, oh my gosh ;;_;; Very VERY excited that you got an idea from this and ough, thank you so much... these turtles, man......

Also if I may, the most efficient way to stay up to date with my art posts is to follow my tag tervdraws or directly check it on my blog. I've also found that the dashboard is very unreliable if I want to keep up with specific people – mostly due to timezones u_u

(You kinda read my mind because I'm going to tidy up some lines in this and put it up as a print in the shop along with the mermaid AU piece!!)

[jadedxrealityw]

-Penmanship- Cedric Diggory x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: I- i love this request. I’m also hella confused by half of it so imma guess? Also i’m putting Lupin in this story because in my dr hes the defense against the dark arts professor and i do what i want really so like-

  Request: Okay so listen honey. A cedric diggory imagine where he constantly gets love letters every now and then from a secret admirer aka the reader. Not so secret though because she has the prettiest handwriting ever and it was very obvious. One day, Cedric like asks for her notes because he needed it??? She mindlessly gave it away because that's her long-time crush okay- and then after, Cedric gives it back and says she has a beautiful penmanship and reader just blushes, thinking about what she had done and- Gdjshdhxbhshgs so she tried like avoiding him because embarrassing really wow and then some days after, Cedric asks her what was the answer. She was like???? Was there a question????? Ced was like look at your notes???? And tHEN SHE RUMMAGES THROUGH HER NOTES AND SAW CEDRIC'S LETTER ASKING HER OUT.I've always been that freak in class with a pretty handwriting 😭 - 💐

  House: Hufflepuff

  Possible Triggers / Warnings: the fluff, Cedric being a cheeky bastard, cursing because i have a foul mouth

   ☼-☪-☼

  Cedric Diggory, 7th year Hufflepuff, quidditch captain/seeker, handsome, charming as a prince,  and one of the most popular guys at hogwarts along with Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, George and Fred Weasley, Blaise Zabini, etc. Anyway, like most girls and boys in Hogwarts, you fell for him. Hard.

  i mean- how couldn’t you, you shared almost every class him and he just seemed so kind and caring. He did have his smug side though that you rarely saw, but it was surely there. In layman’s terms: he was perfect in your eyes, and in your mind, you didn’t deserve him or his weird perfection thing he had.

  so you came up with a strange and somewhat coward way of confessing your feelings. Better than being embarrassed, normally guys and gals would get the young lad alone and confess there undying attraction to him and well- they’d get rejected. Everytime. It was almost as if Cedric had an attraction for no one.

  you decided to send love letters of sorts, but not really. They were more like letters of encouragement and it certainly wasn’t going to be a constant thing, just when you noticed a negative change in his attitude or anything like that. You would write him sweet compliments that you hoped weren’t to creepy as well.

  you just hoped that the letters brought Cedric some sort of happiness whenever he was low.

   ☼-☪-☼

  the Hufflepuff house had quite a grim aura this afternoon. The quidditch team had just lost a match against Gryffindor and even though Hufflepuffs were no sore losers, losing just sucked in general to anyone. It was sad to see your fellow housemates on the quidditch team so upset.

  the worst part was that Cedric had took the lose quite harshly since it would have gotten them a place in the quidditch finals of that semester. Now he would have to wait until next term to assure his team a spot. You noticed Cedric’s pained expression during the end of the game and left early.

  this was one of the moments where you could write something sweet and kind to lift his spirits and write you shall. You snuck back into your common room and quickly gathered up some parchment, ink, and a quill. You sat on the yellow loveseat as you wrote.

  ‘Dear Cedric, I’m sorry that you don’t get to participate in the quidditch finals, but don’t see this has a huge lose. You are still the most amazing quidditch captain and seeker i have ever seen. You should be proud of what you have accomplished so far. I just know you will do much better next term because your the kind of person to grow from your failures and such. It has inspired me to do the same with myself. Have a good rest of your day Cedric.’

  after writing what you needed to say you quickly make your way back to the quidditch field to see Cedric and his team slowly making there way to the changing rooms. Oh no. You needed to think fast. In a rushed state you slip into the boys changing room, no doubt feeling like a bit of a perv while doing so.

  it smelt like pure testosterone. you gaze around until your E/c eyes land on a small locker that had Cedric’s name on the front. Boom. With haste, you rush over and open the locker. The smell of fresh sage filling your nose. Odd. Anyway, you fold the letter and place it gently on on his clothes.

  after that you left.

   ☼-☪-☼

  as Cedric walked into the changing room he sighed deeply, running a hand through his golden brown hair that by then had collected sweat. His male teammates were quiet as they began to strip themselves of their protective padding.

  as the seeker opened up his locker to grab his regular clothes he spotted a folded up piece of parchment. By now he had been receiving letters for a bout a month now, so he instantly knew. He reaches in and grabs it from the locker. Opening it, he spotted the unique handwriting as always.

  as he read the words a wide smile grew on his face. He honestly looked like a lovestruck idiot who had just been kissed by an angel. After a month of receiving these letters, he now had a want for them. They always came when he needed them the most and always brought the brightest smile on his face.

  even after reading the kind words you had wrote for him, Cedric couldn’t help but wonder who was writing the letters with the unique penmanship. He had fallen for the anonymous writer and longed to know who there identity was, so he could say those feelings in person.

  but not once had they mentioned any descriptors that could lead him anywhere, no hair color, eye color, not even there gender. Cedric could less about any of those, but he needed those clues to find them, to find you. All he had was a stack of letters with unique handwriting.  

   ☼-☪-☼

  a week later

  one of the many classes you shared with Cedric was defence against the dark arts with professor Lupin, which was where you were walking into at this current moment. Oh yeah, you were deskmates (assigned) with him as well, which was totally not nerve wracking in the slightest.

  Lupin stood up from his chair in the front of the class as most of his students had taken their seats “Welcome, welcome everyone. Once your seated please pull out your textbooks and turn to-” before he could get another word in Hermione Granger’s hand had shot up in the air.

  professor Lupin gave her a small smile before nodding once towards her direction “Yes, Ms. Granger?” he asked. Hermione’s arm fell and she folded her hands across the wooden desk she sat at “You told us last week there’d be a exam today on the Chameleon Ghoul?”

  as groans fell from your classmates you heard the chair next to you slide across the floor “I haven’t missed anything important, have i?” that deep melodic voice you had grown to enjoy spoke. You turn your head to face the browned haired boy who wore a kind smile and questioning eyes.

  you manage to muster up a reply “Uh- Granger reminded Lupin that we have a exam today” you said cracking a quiet chuckle. He rolls his eyes dramatically and takes a seat in the chair, all while pulling out a couple pieces of parchment with his handwriting on it. You assumed it was his notes.

  “Of course she did. What’s the exam for?” he asks. You sit back in your seat to make yourself look less tense then you actually were. “Chameleon Ghouls” you say, watching the golden brown hair boy search through his notes. A frown formed on his face, one you noticed “Are uh- you alright there?”

  Cedric turns his head to face you, his frown replaced with a sheepish smile “I was at quidditch practice during that lesson. You wouldn’t mind me borrowing yours would you? I- I mean if it’s not to much of a hassle?” he asked. You shook your head quickly, not wanting him to be nervous.

  “Oh no it’s alright. I usually write two sets of notes for my friend Hannah who usually sleeps through her lessons” you say, making him chuckle a bit. You reach into your bag and pull out both pages of notes, handing him one. Cedric gently takes the notes from your hand, his finger grazing yours.

  it affected you more than you’d like to admit. You pull your hand away and place it back in your lap. Cedric smiles kindly before looking at the parchment you gave him. His brown eyes scan the handwriting, a smug grin plastered on his face. It took him a couple minutes to read the whole page.

   “Your penmanship” he spoke

  at this point you were looking at your own notes and for once not paying so much attention to him. You raise a brown in confusion before looking up at him “My penmanship?” you question. Cedric nods towards the parchment he held in his hand

  “The way you write is so unique, i could spot it in instantly among others. I could never forget it” he said sending you a wink. You were confused at first by his choice of words before it finally hit you. The letters. He had seen your handwriting so many times before, so much so that he couldn’t forget it.

  and you had so willingly, so stupidly given away something with your distinct penmanship on it. Oh merlin, you were so screwed. Your E/c eyes widen, opening your mouth to force out some answer but professor Lupin speaks instead. “Now notes away while i pass out the exam”

  Cedric casually faces forward in his seat once again as he slides over the notes you handed him minutes ago. You quickly snatch them and stuff it into your bag as a red hue tinted your cheeks. You felt so embarrassed at the moment and wanted the earth to swallow you up.

   ☼-☪-☼

  “Aright, leave your exams on the table and you may leave” Lupin spoke, while kids stood up from their desks to leave the classroom. In a haste, you sling your bag over your shoulder and make a beeline towards the door, not wanting to even risk Cedric questioning you about the letters. Your heart couldn’t handle it.

  for the next couple days you spent most of your time avoiding the hufflepuff boy who seemed to now show up everywhere you went. Almost like the universe was punishing you for being such an idiot in giving him those notes and you did feel like a total idiot. You really hoped he would just forget you existed.

   ☼-☪-☼

  a couple days later, friday

   you couldn’t avoid him forever though.

  back in professor Lupin’s classroom you had been quietly sitting next to Cedric almost the whole class period. What were you supposed to say to him anyway “We seemed to have finished early, talk amongst yourselves quietly for the rest of the remaining time if you so desire”

  well shit

  you lean back into your chair and sigh deeply. He wouldn’t talk to you right? He should of taken the hit that you were avoiding him, RIGHT? No of course not. You felt a tap on your shoulder and slowly turned your head to face Cedric “Yes?” you say, trying to keep your calm composure.

  “You still haven’t given me an answer, your cutting it pretty close there Y/n” he snickers, leaning in close to you since he spoke in a hushed tone. You instinctively lean back, cause like- boundaries. “I’m sorry, i don’t understand?” you spoke, a confused expression on your face.

   Cedric studies your expression for a moment before chuckling again “I guess i don’t leave letters as skillfully as you do” he says making your face go bright red “Check the notes that you gave me” he adds. You mumble an okay before opening your bag to grab the crumpled parchment. 

   when you unfolded it another piece of parchment had fallen into your lap. It was small and looked like it had been ripped off the sheet and folded up like a note you would pass to a friend during class. You reach down and collect, gently unfolding the top flap to read the words. 

   ‘It’s my turn to write you something my secret admirer or should i say Y/n L/n. Would you do me the honor of going out with me this saturday- Cedric’ 

   you must have read those couple sentences three times before you believed your eyes weren’t defective of some sort. You slowly place the note down on your lap once again, biting your bottom lip out of nervousness. Slowly looking over to your right you saw Cedric with a questioning glance “So?”

   a smile grew on your face before nodding “Yeah i’d love to”

   the date went great, you walked around the school talking about anything you or Cedric could think of. He did question you on why you had sent the letters anonymously and you told him the truth, you didn’t want to be embarrassed. He thought it was funny the way he found out and you though to.   

    ☼-☪-☼

   a month later (bonus stuff)

   you were wearing a yellow sweater with black sleeves and collar, a short denim overall dress over that and black leggings with matching black boots as you tapped your fingers against the wood of Cedric’s chest at the foot of his bed. You were waiting for your now boyfriend to come back from the shower.

   Cedric had been at quidditch practice all afternoon and you knew he went to wash up right after, so it was the waiting game now. What you didn’t expect was what would happen next. The door suddenly opened to reveal Cedric with damp hair and only wearing a towel around his waist.

   you yelp and cover your eyes with both of your hands instantly “Cedric! What the hell!?” you shout. Cedric gives you a weird look all though you couldn’t see it “Your in my dorm! I didn’t think you be in here!” he shouts back, you can hear shuffling of clothes and his walking.

   “Did you walk through the common room like that?! What if somebody saw you!?” you exclaim. You didn’t want prying eyes on him in such a state since you knew almost everyone in your house and others hand the biggest crush on him. The thought made you frown knowing full well he could have anyone he wanted.

   you feel his large hand over yours as he pulls them from your face, his brown eyes studying your expression like always “Who cares if anyone saw?” he questions, your face not changing “Because everyone likes you, what if someone more good looking than me saw you and- eh”

   you look away from him. Cedric exhaled and let go of one of your hands to gently force your chin towards him so you were looking at him once again. “I don’t really care about anyone else Y/n. I’m your boyfriend aren’t i?” he asked, tilting his head with an amused smile. You nod slowly “Yeah” 

   “Y/n i fell for you the first time i read your letters, don’t doubt yourself because your the only girl who has ever caught my attention” Cedric smiles and leans up since he was crouching in front of you to kiss your lips gently. It was like he was sealing his statement with the kiss. 

   you smile against his lips. He pulls away after a couple seconds with a smug smirk “Now my secret admirer, want to cuddle?”

   “I’m never getting over that am i?”

   “Nope, now in the bed”

    ☼-☪-☼

   Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @pxroxide-prinxcesss 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: this is shi for how long it took me lmao. Anyway, requests and taglist are open so like- yeahhh.

[stillunderyourbed]

I made a story inspired by your picture of a yakuza Sesshomaru with the twins. I hope Tumblr doesn't swallow my asks, and you see this. Please have a look on ao3, it is titled 'Mornings'

I really couldn't get it out of my head, and I was suddenly inspired to heart family fluff . thank you for your great, hilarious, awesome content

<3

AAAAAAAAAAAAADKDHFHSJKAJDJ OMG THANK U SO MUCH ANON HOLY SHIT!!!

i am reading your work as i speak, thank u for making such an awesome and wholesome fic!!! and based off of my art?? 😭😭😭 fuck i am so honored!!!

i hope u don’t mind but i’m linking the fic so more ppl can see it as well!! its so cute!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37011466?view_adult=true

thank u again anon, i’m so happy u loved and were inspired by my works!! one of these days imma draw out some stuff that happens in the fic cuz the scene w towa and the doorknob made me lose it 🤣🤣 and i fucking loved ur writing!! i would love to see more, but only if ur able to ofc ofc! 💕💕 keep up the great work anon!

[poetdreamerfool]

A Bouquet of Words

I be where the blunt be I prey upon those that hunt me me! a fatherless son from motherland where If they bite you then you feed em with the other hand

On the other hand I live life labeled a criminal a frequent message lost in translation but subliminal loud, brash, out front-- centerfold; firing in asymmetrical intervals

so-- you do dirt and hope that flowers grow law of the jungle the weak get jumped like Geronimo-- why? shit. I never asked I don’t know flunked school but with the g-code we made the honor roll-- first you sell your mind, then your soul, compromise on price not on your goals-- fuck what hand I’m dealt I’ll never fold; I’m broke-- but my word bank Is on vitamins and minerals

like scotty with that mic bitch I might shed some light, take some flight, then fuck around and write some shit that slaps like Ike yikes--

I’m down then I’m up again come struttin in99 like a black hole sucking something in or like some hope up in some suffering--

with art I got a fresh start, like I just pressed start-- no continues; these fools will end you right-- so I’m like we got Two options in this life fight or hold on tight with mind or might give you this bouquet of words let me shine my light

glory be to the illuminated, tell my momma that I almost made it; all these bitter pills I swallowed got me constipated but I still give shit. I flushed my dreams down the toilet but they clogged the shit because I get my self esteem direct deposited-- defined undefined life story reads like some Vonnegut so Imma get back on my shit; when its grind time I’m Einstein-- genius and madness got a fine line but this brother ain’t ever off sides I got my vision locked on the prize these other niggas cross eyed; when things go over their head-- that’s when I moss guys cross guys like I’m Iverson the haters’ll say its traveling; they can catch the replay while the judge is gavelin‘

[joyful-soul-collector]

time to find some fakkin WORDS

Tagged by the fantastic @tracle0 thank you as always, hope you’re having a fantastic uhhh morning, I think, should be the time you read this (if you’re awake rn, go to bed. Go drink your silly sleepy tea and go to bed, or I’ll make a copy of TCD and make it so Andy is getting a hug every 3 paragraphs, and then force you to read it)

Anyways, gotta find beat, clasp, tremble and bloom

Beat

“I… I guess that’s true. I just… I worry.”

“Well, that’s what people who care about each other do. They worry about each other. It’s just that the things you’re worrying about for me are not realistic things. You don’t have to worry I’ll be killed by a Slicker or that I won’t be eating enough or that I’m going to go crazy from eating pollution. And the things that you could worry about happening to me are not things that you can help or prevent. Just like how I can’t prevent all the things that happen to you.”

“Well you prevented death by starvation and the possibility of going Marianas pretty well,” Tatum said, smiling and taking a small step closer. 

“I mean more like keeping you from getting beat up,” Art said, rolling his eyes. 

“You take care of me afterwards though. Feels like I get more out of this than you do,” Tatum said, raising an eyebrow.

Clasp

Imagine having the word “clasp” in your writing. That’s pretty cringe, trade

Tremble

Art damn near forgot to turn off the car in his haste to get inside the shelter, and he could feel his hands starting to tremble as he pulled open the glass door. 

“Hello!” someone said cheerily as he walked in, making him jump. It was a woman, short and white, greying brown hair pulled back in a bun. “Are you a volunteer or are you looking to be admitted?”

“I--neither, I uh, I’m looking for someone actually. Uh, Seven? Seven…” It was only then that Art realized he didn’t even know their last name. “Seven, Seven, uh, white hair? Crutches?”

The woman suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry, we can’t give out any information on who stays here,” she said. 

Art’s heart dropped, and he swallowed hard. 

“Please, I just wanna know if they’re okay--”

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you anything,” she said. “It’s an issue of safety.”

Art huffed in frustration, rubbing his hands over his face. He fought the urge to snap at her, knowing she was just doing her job, and just gave a small nod in thanks before leaving the way he came. 

Bloom

THAT is SPOILERS trade, how dare you

Now for the people I tag, Imma need you to find dawn, help, drag, and safe. Tagging: @baloobird @doctornineandthreequarters @polyacery @superherotiger

[drjackandmissjo]

it’s nice to have a friend

Chapter 1 --- next chapter

Feysand masterlist

She could feel the eyes burning on her back. Everyone already knew of what had happened.

Tamlin hadn't waited till the end of the classes this time. He hadn't waited till they were both free of lectures and outside and far away from other people, where no one could hear the shouts coming from him or her scared silence. Instead, he had cornered her as soon as her Medieval art history class had been dismissed, not bothering to let the other students leave the room or to keep his voice down. As a political science major and as the son of a wealthy alumnus of their university, he thought and was taught that the world was at his feet, expecting everyone to bow in front of him and follow his every orders.

Unfortunately for him, Feyre had a completely different point of view and didn't fit perfectly into his fantasy. No matter how hard he shoved her in. She was independent and proud and she would not be belittled any longer.

That day was the last drop. The final blow.

Tamlin raged on and on about how she didn't care for him since she didn't follow his every ridiculous orders to a T, how she didn't love him considering she hadn't spent every single second of her free and occupied time at his wishes, about how she probably was cheating on him while being locked up in her dormitory room with Mor as they both poured hearts and souls into their Winter Finals.

How she didn’t deserve someone that cared for her the way he did. That had been the bullet that killed Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and gave way to World War I.

Usually, Feyre would remain patient and calm and listen to his rambling, raging complaints until he was done and apologizing profusely, incredibly sorry and trying to make the scene that nobody had seen better with either mediocre sex, where he looked mostly for his own pleasure, or an incredibly romantic and over-the-top gesture, all because he was incredibly stressed and he needed to vent and she was the only person he could let his guard down around.

But that day was their final step towards an inevitable break up. She was tired, had been for a while. Tired of being bossed around, tired of getting earfuls and yellings just because she couldn’t afford to skip a lecture to hang out with him, tired of being told her career plan wasn't safe since she was working with her 'hobby' . Tired of being used as a punching bag for him to take all his problems off. She had managed to put off the unpleasantries for as long as she could, swallowing down anger and hurt because he loved her and she loved him, right? But she had not felt any type of emotion that wasn’t negative towards him since Christmas.

She interrupted him halfway through his madman speech, conscious of and hating every single pair of eyes turned on the current entertainment.

She couldn't really blame them. Finals had been hell for everyone who couldn't pay their ways in and once in a while a good scene was what would lighten up the air and raise up the collective morale. But that didn't mean that she enjoyed being the centre of all her class's attention.

Breathing deeply and raising a hand to shut him up, she said "Imma stop you right there", her voice steady and laced with cold rage she had mustered from years listening to her eldest sister.

"We're over. You're an entitled, misogynistic, possessive, jealousy driven, toxic asshole with anger management issues. I'm tired of putting up with your bullshit and I'm honestly scared of the shit you might come up with next. I hope you resolve your problems and all, I truly do. But you shouldn't be my problem and I am far too busy to be your caretaker. Lord knows you're rich enough to get yourself one. That being said, get off my fucking face before I break your nose and do some serious damage to your fucking reputation. Don't ever darken my sight anymore." And with that she gathered her bag and made a beeline for the door, leaving behind an incredibly stunned classroom and a visibly shaking, red faced Tamlin.

She didn't remain to check if everything was alright. She didn’t turn around to see his next reaction, the temper tantrum she knew lurked beneath his skin, ready to be triggered off and explode. Instead, she just moved towards her next lesson, on the other side of the building.

She had a lightness in her steps that she hadn't had in a few months and a lightness in her heart that was now beating freely in her ribcage.

It had all happened two hours ago. Without a shadow of a doubt, everyone in their campus knew. She had received sympathetic glances as well as spiteful ones as she moved around the place, but for once she didn't care. She was free.

Feyre saw him as she entered the English Lit room. Rhysand was peacefully reading his book, his backpack occupying the spot next to him, as it always did.

Taking a deep breath, she moved towards the row he had chosen and moved slowly, as if in a dream. He always kept a place for her in the classes they shared, but due to Tamlin's obsessive control issues, she hadn't been able to sit there, otherwise it would've turned ugly. “It turned ugly anyway ” she thought darkly, ashamed of how weak she had been.

But she didn't have to keep up with that bullshit anymore. So she unceremoniously shoved her bag on the desk and began to silently stare at Rhys, poking holes in his skull as he read. A small smile appeared on his lips. "What brings you here, Feyre Darling?"

She blushed at the usual greeting, before replying with a simple "You know, don't you?"

He put his book down and turned his attention to her. Violet eyes stared into her grey ones, assessing that she was alright.

"Can I sit here or are you going to leave me standing the whole lecture?" she asked, faking irritation as a big smile replaced the small one on his face. "I'm pretty sure I'm gonna sleep throughout it anyway, but I'd rather not fall and embarrass myself in front of Professor Carver."

"By all means, the floor is yours" he replied motioning towards the empty carpet as he removed the backpack from the chair.

Sitting down plainly, she muttered a barely audible "Prick" that had him smiling widely at her, before he flicked her nose. Before she was able to reply, the professor made his entrance and demanded silence as he began his lesson.

She could feel Rhys' eyes cautiously on her throughout the lecture.

[empty-dream]

Just read Jujutsu Kaisen

aka some guy has blue eyes, everyone loses their shit.

A sorcerer school fights cursed spirits born from human sentiments.

Basically your everyday shonen popcorn. Like, nothing really new, it just plays its cards well. Just a little bit on the darker side.

Yujiiiii! The combination of punk face and kind heart is so cute!. I already know from the first chapter that it will not go well with his life, but… damn.

Megumi’s eyelashes are longer than my life. The resident’s dark-haired-guy-with-complicated-backstory. Only he’s a lot nicer and obviously-kind than most characters like that in other shows.

Nobara’s power is so cool, it really reflects her crazy-battle antics. That and her lively personality really shine and complement Yuji and Megumi well.

Oh yeah also that Satoru Gojo guy or whatever… Jk he’s like literally the strongest, prettiest top sorcerer of the story, he might as well be god. God-jo. Heheh.

The other characters are also pretty colorful. Watch me scream every time Nanamin and Junpei appear since I love them.

This is the kind of story that has people die in it. People I actually care about.

Like I said, there is nothing actually new. But the mix and match of the tropes are excellent and keeps me intrigued. Like, a gramps who fights with rock and roll.

The power explanations are long, sometimes I don’t really read it. So the little chibi diagrams that showing how a particular works really helps lol.  

If there is one thing that’s notable for me, it’s Mahito’s entire character and power set. It’s incredibly disgusting. All his attacks are using disfigured human bodies, often still alive. It kinda reminds me of BnHA’s Shigaraki, but instead of decaying, the touched body transforms into ugly inhuman things. E.g. heads are inflated (and dear god the art is quite realistic about it imo). It’s truly dehumanizing, he doesn’t think anything about humans, and that is his entire existence, the human transgressions itself.

Imma be honest, Shibuya arc is so long. I don’t think this is the final arc but it kinda feels like one. I know there are still a lot of questions to be answered.

As for the anime, I haven’t actually watched it beside the OP and ED, which everyone likes. I, on the other hand, lost my shit the moment I watch the OP again after I read with the manga.

Tl;Dr You can’t expect nothing bad is going to happen when you swallows a whole damn millenium-old demonic finger.