#like yeah. this is real. it has been with me for a very long time. and it felt nice to have that seen

[slashes-slut]

I have a requesssst:

Can you please write an imagine where reader has her friend Slash over at home and she tells him all about her next date with her boyfriend and how the two want to take things to the next level. Then Slash mischievously suggests that he can "prepare" her, cause he has a lot of sex experience and says he wants to show her how to give head properly and how to fuck properly.

During the session she completely forgets about her boyfriend because slash is such a good sex god🤤🦭🦭

Pretty please make this real smutty and dirty🤤🥹

I really enjoyed writing this one although it did take me a while lol

Tw: Smut, cheating, blowjobs, fingering, p in v sex

Divider by @kiyaedits

I Can Help

"He said he wants to... Well you know on our next date and like I want to but, I don't know anything about it. What if I fuck up?" You were currently discussing your boy troubles with Slash, he'd come over to show you a horror movie that he thought was up your alley. However you were too preoccupied with the thought of your next date with the guys you'd been seeing for a month now, he'd noticed and now you were spilling everything to him.

"like, I've never gone any further than a make-out sesh. I don't know how to do anything more and I don't want him to like I don't know, think I'm not good?", you were really just overthinking everything.

"it's not that deep, it's hard to be bad at sex", He was trying to be reassuring, not wanting you to be so freaked out about it.

After some more back and forth of you stressing out and Slash trying to either reassure you or ignore in favour of the movie he decides to give you a solution.

"let me teach you then if you're so worried", you couldn't tell if he was being serious, he looked serious but that would be wrong right?

"Slash that's cheating though."

"Only if he finds out and hey I'm not going to force you to but it might make you less worried."

"Yeah there ya go pretty girl, down on your knees", Slash gently put his hand on your shoulder to guide you down, he didn't want to overwhelm you. He was supposed to be teaching you after all. You were still unsure about this whole thing but as long as your boyfriend didn't find out it was okay right?

Once you were on your knees in between his legs you looked up at him almost innocently, this was your first time in this position and you were waiting for him to guide you further, the weight of his hand on your shoulder was reassuring as he used his other hand to undo his jeans. He pushes his jeans down just enough for his cock to be freed. As usual he's not wearing underwear

His cock was an average size 5-6 inches you guessed but it was thick and had a very prominent vein running down the side. Your mouth was practically watering at the thought of it down your throat and you only felt a little guilty. He held the base of it. "Come on pretty girl, it's simple. Just put it in your mouth, watch your teeth."

"m'kay", you leaned forward enough to take the tip in your mouth, wanting to go slow. It was odd at first the feeling of it, the taste was interesting but not entirely bad. You dipped your head down further, moving your tongue around and looking up at him. He was looking down at you with grin, one hand on your shoulder and the other on the side of your face.

"There you go, you're getting it". He pushed your hair back a bit, "a little further c'mon", because of your inexperience you couldn't quite take him all the way but you did your best to make up for it by speeding up on what you could take, it was messy, spit was everywhere but that only made it hotter. You pulled back to pay some attention to the head of his cock, running your tongue over the slit, earning a groan from the man above.

You pulled off completely, using your hand to stroke him slowly. "Am I doing good?" You ask, your voice a little rough but wanting validation.

"so good, you're a natural baby", He used his thumb to stroke your cheek, smiling down at you. "Keep going."

You take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head eagerly, you were enjoying this more than you thought you would. Spit is dripping from the corners of your mouth making everything that much dirtier.

He grabs your hair and pulls you off of him, not roughly but it wasn't exactly gentle. "As much as I'd like to cum done your throat I think I better show you how a real man should fuck you", He pulls your hair for just a second as if he was going to pull you up but decided against it, instead letting go and grabbing your arm.

Once you're standing he takes a second to admire you, your lips all red and wet from being wrapped around his cock, your hair a bit of a mess from his pulling. "You're gorgeous, lay down on the edge of the bed."

You lay down and he grabs your thighs pulling you down further so he can stand at the end of the bed but still be between your thighs, it's this moment that makes you happy your bed is up so high.

He runs his finger up your covered cunt, he could feel how wet you were, a small wet spot forming on your panties. "So wet for me already? You're really enjoying this", He pulled your panties to the side and used his other hand to run his fingers through the wetness.

You whine at the foreign feeling of someone else's hands on you in that way. It felt so different from how you touched yourself but it was so good despite him hardly doing anything.

"Gotta make sure you can take me pretty girl", He grins as he sinks his middle finger into your cunt all the way, it wasn't much but the slide of his finger and the rougher texture was enough to make you gasp. It wasn't long till he added a second finger, using the thumb of his other hand to rub circles on your clit. "That feel good?"

"Mhm, so good" The combination of his fingers going in and out of your wet cunt along with rubbing your clit was making your leg twitch. You were making a low whining sound, you hadn't expected this little stimulation to feel so good. "Didn't know it'd feel like this."

"oh yeah? Good", He was pleased that you were enjoying this so much, he loved that he was the first person to make you feel like this. He was however impatient so he didn't finger you for long. Only a few moments later he was pulling his fingers out eliciting a whine from you and wiping his hand the blanket

"Hey!", Did he seriously just do that

"it's fine we'll wash it", He dismissed your concern knowing it wasn't that big of a deal. Slash pull your panties fully off now and stepped forward to be between your legs once again. His cock was still hard pre-cum dripping from the tip, he grabbed your right hip with one hand and his cock with the other. "You're sure you want this?"

"oh, please Slash" You say, your voice needy while looking up at him with half lidded eyes. Your hands play with sheets beside you just to do something. You move your hips against him, feeling your arousal smear across his tip, desperate to feel anything.

"So impatient, I'm trying to teach you how to take a dick like a good slut, I'm going to go at my own pace" His voice is almost degrading but still holds that fondness that's ever present when he talks to you. Despite his words however he's just as eager for this as you are, he slaps the head of cock against your clit a few times, just to hear you whine.

"Are you ready pretty girl?"

"yes, fuck yes" It felt like he had been teasing you for so long, your cunt dripping, begging to be filled. He slowly starts to push in, wanting you to feel him fully. The feeling of it made you gasp and let out a sound close to a whimper. He started off slowly so he didn't overwhelm you but the feeling of your tight wet pussy wrapped around his cock just felt so good, it didn't take long for his thrusts to speed up. Both of his hands were on your hips holding you still for him.

Your moans and whines echoed throughout the room like the most lewd song. It felt like his cock was made for you, it felt so good. "Oh fuck, please, please don't stop" you begged and whined, losing yourself in the pleasure, at this point it was less about learning and more about the pleasure. All thoughts of your boyfriend had gone from your mind, only able to think of Slash.

"Fuck you feel so good" His head was thrown back in pleasure, his breathing deep as he let out an occasional groan. "God you feel so fucking good wrapped around me sweetheart"

"Slash- oh fuck- m'gonna cum" After all the teasing to your virgin body it was no surprise you weren't going to last long, hearing this Slash sped up his thrusts determined to make you feel good.

You whined loudly as you came, eyes screwing shut as your legs shook from the intensity. Slash continued to fuck you through it, rutting into your dripping pussy, "fuck no more, no more" you whispered, overstimulated.

"fuck-" He quickly pulled out and jerked himself off, his cum spurting out onto your stomach in short bursts. He fell onto the bed beside you, brushing some hair off your forehead, "did so good for me" He said quietly, his voice filled with affection. He sat up and tucked himself back into his pants. He then grabbed your discarded shirt and pants, using your shirt to wipe off your stomach and helping you into your pants.

"Do you need some water?"

You just nodded a bit worn out, still trying to catch your breath. A minute later you gladly took the water from Slash and drank it down greedily. The pair of you sat up together and rewinded the movie to watch it properly this time, although wrapped up in an embrace.

Needless to say you did not go on that date with your now ex-boyfriend.

[vsa-pieldepapel]

I still love your post-deltarune ralsusie hc where she lives in a truck(?) and basically spends her whole free time on the dark world with ralsei. (Though I can't find it :() How has chapter 3 and 4 affected that headcanon for you? Also, what do you think Ralsei is? kris's horns? green crayon? some other unidentified object? Not even a object and just pure darkness???

if you're struggling to filter for specific things, you can add /archive to the blog url and filter by the tag #ralsusie, it has to be there im certain. Was probably an ask, as you see, asks are how I end up rambling about different ideas... Lets get into it together anon

yeah, the whole thing was flipped over on its head, not gonna lie. Now that the writing has been emphatic on the illusory ethereal nature of Dark Worlds, including confirmation that DW food doesn't actually fill the stomach, I can't say the best end is one in which Susie stays... There is a theme that was planted since Ch.2 but has become especially resonant recently, which is escapism into idealistic fantasy worlds, and I feel like the theme being built upon here is finding fulfilment in the real, too. My gut's telling me that what is being set up here now is Susie taking Ralsei out of the darkness to bring him to the Light World, so he can live as a normal 17 year old guy without worrying about the end of the world.

I remember the unused blushy sprites from chapter 2 that, at the time, I believed toby removed because they were a little too ralsusie-y (Susie lowkey flips her shit internally in them) but now I see that the probable actual reason on top of my Pepe Silvia reason is that toby chose a much more poignant moment to reveal that Susie has blood. Does this mean that monsters in DR bleed, and are cremated to create their "dust"? or does this mean that Susie is a hybrid between a monster and a human? It's very interesting that the discoloration of the DW that she made, influenced by her subconscious, has her coloured like a white human girl with brown hair and otherwise features purple prominently. Is that reflective of this? Being a medical enigma, caught between two worlds?

the truth is, we don't yet know. But I feel like setting up the blood to appear there was purposeful because of... Pinocchio, of all things

Ever since Spamton (puppet element, strings, long nose, a trickster/deceiver/liar), we first got introduced to a general pinocchio, puppet, strings, control, reality theme. Whoever is calling the secret bosses informed spamton about a human SOUL having the power to see past the dark into the light. Is this an indication that through the power of a human soul, a Darkner can gain a body not illusory or dependent of an object or concept? And it's very interesting the way Spamton phrases it: [A Real Boy]. Very much a pinocchio phrase.

Pinoccho is about a wooden puppet of a boy, wishing to be real, a flesh and blood human child for his father Gepetto. Eventually his wish is granted through the power of morality and love for his father (and willingness to sacrifice out of love). Ralsei insists that he's not real, but through the affection and support of Susie he has become more his own person since the very instant they met and she got him to remove his cloak.

Is the Last Prophecy meant to imply Ralsei's sacrifice? I think so, at least; the way she emphasizes that ESPECIALLY Ralsei won't let that happen is probably her placing her will to live on him (most people don't want to die). If Susie is at least partially human, could she give some of her power to help him become a real boy? Could his willingness to sacrifice, and her love, be the conduit to make him Real? Is that the ultimate subversion of the Last Prophecy? I don't know. But that's what all of this has made me think about. And I am now very excited at the idea of Ralsei becoming real, not just in spirit but through the power of hope and friendship.

(Susie can still live in a van though. They can cuddle together there).

As for what object Ralsei is, I like the green crayon as a joke a lot, but I'm honestly starting to doubt if he is an object at all. There's something special about him, his endless seemingly innate knowledge of the rules of the dark worlds, his role as a prince and a hero, the fact that he was the very first Darkner Kris and Susie met and he seems to have been spawned from the grand fountain in Castle Town... I can't confirm it either way, but that seems to suggest he may be something more like pure darkness. I don't have a strong bet at the moment though.

Thank you for this ask! My passion for ralsusie has been fanned to a forest fire with the new chapters oh my godddddd

[thesoulbound]

I have so many thoughts and opinions on Ian McKinley from Final Destination 3 that I have to put them somewhere! So here is a long, messy I-wouldn't-even-call-it-an-essay-because-wtf-is-this, but something along those lines!

I shall put it under a cut because yeaaaah, it's a rant .... lool

He's a character I feel like everyone either gets wrong or misremember from watching the movie years ago. There's nothing wrong with not liking the character; opinions are a thing, after all. But I do feel like defending him.

He's very clearly a character you either love or hate, and if you hate him, I've seen so many wonder how anyone can like him. Like, why is that even a question? Have you seen all the villains out there and the love they get and they do things so many times worse than Ian!

Okay, so like, first off. Liking a character doesn't mean you think they're flawless and perfect or excuse everything they do. No, it means finding the character interesting, the actor does a great job, and there are so many "what ifs" and "why did they do that?" They might even be the type of characters that if they were real, you wouldn't necessarily like them, but since it's fiction and entertainment—give it to me! Just the type of character I end up thinking about once the movie is done. The type of character you remember. The type of character that, if the movie had allowed it, could have been so much deeper.

Do you have to be reminded what a perfect character is? A Mary Sue. Perfection is boring, okay? No one is perfect. There's a middle ground, of course. There has to be something redeemable about a character usually for me to like them.

Nothing annoys me more in this franchise than when people call him a villain. He's even listed as a villain on certain pages. Like, wtf, man? This is the reason why I feel like people remember the character wrong from seeing the movie a long, long time ago or simply do not get the character at all. Hell, even I thought he was creepy as a kid, you know? But perception and time change things!

Like, up until him killing the pigeon, he's not even that bad? He looks like he (and Erin) genuinely tries to comfort Wendy with statistics before the rollercoaster because he's not laughing or mocking when they move on. He doesn't seem to understand what's wrong with what he says. For other people, me included, however, it's like, Yeah... statistics isn't going to help now, bro.

Same thing at the Ashes' funeral. He speaks out of place, but rather than being rude and disrespectful of the popular girls, he's actually speaking kindly of them.

"Equal... in death's eyes? All of us? How can you say that? Dude, think it through: Charlie Manson, made it to 70, Osama, still kicking. Pimps, vice presidents, walking around, all the atrocities they've committed, they're alive and well. These two girls, never done shit to anybody, they don't get to make it to 18. Where's the fucking equality in that?"

I love the little moments of breaking stereotypes in this movie, even if they're just tiny moments. Like the popular, usual mean girls, the Ashes aren't even mean. They're sweet and even try to include Wendy despite her not being in their friend group. Ian, the goth and outsider—the opposite end of the popularity ranking—doesn't talk shit about them. He says they didn't deserve to die so young because they never hurt anybody. That's not what most would have expected him to say when he opened his mouth. His voice even breaks when he says, "...they don't get to make it to 18." Yet haters tend to point out he's so mean for disrupting a funeral!

Which, yeah, don't do that. But to me it again shows when it comes to social etiquette, he's not very good at it. I've seen people suggest he might be on the spectrum or something, but I'm not going to go into that. I do not have enough knowledge to do that, and some do even try to use that as an excuse for things he does later.

Now, the scene most people hate, and I don't really blame people for disliking him after this, I just think it's sad. Ian killing a pigeon at work at the request of his boss. That in itself is not the red flag you might think it is. That has happened at my job too. A bird got into the store, and we had to get it out because of pests and shit, and we were a store that sold food. I didn't do anything, but my boss ended up having to kill it. The difference was that my boss didn't enjoy doing it. It was something he had to do. Ian does show enjoyment in killing the bird, and THAT is literally serial killer 101 dude. That's a massive red flag! I've seen people excuse this, but no. I don't care. This is such a red flag! I'm awkward af too, and I can smile like a crazy person when i'm on the verge of losing my mind because i'm stressed out. But I would NEVER laugh at killing an animal. If I saw that, I'd tell him to get some damn help, man.

I hate that moment too. It feels like they reached the end of the movie and went, "Oh, wait. It feels like Ian just lost his mind out of nowhere! We need to show him being a little cray-cray earlier on!" which, uhm, no, you don't. A young man witnessing his girlfriend die so brutally is plenty enough reason for someone to have a mental breakdown, buddy.

Another thing people tend to hate him for is him "trying to kill Wendy" and "Blaming Wendy." Which, with the first one, no, he didn't. Second one, yes. He is so wrong for blaming Wendy when she was just trying to help you and literally saved your ass when you were being a cocky little butthole. Like I said, while I love the character, he's very flawed. That's what makes him a fun character for me.

But NO he IS NOT what's going to kill Wendy in the end! People keep getting this wrong to this day! And I get why, because Wendy was wrong too, and the movie doesn't explain it. But it's so annoying. Wendy's photo shows just her with Jason and her shirt saying McKinley. They're in a town called McKinley. Their school is called Mckinley. The movie points out that Ian's last name is Mckinley! That's why the misunderstanding happens!

To put it simply, Ian is not going to kill Wendy because he's supposed to be dead. Death isn't letting people skip for funsies. Death is skipped because someone intervenes. If Wendy didn't save Ian, he'd die at the warehouse, probably with his girlfriend. Meaning he was never supposed to be at the tricentennial at the end. Wendy's shirt indicates to the cherry picker (even has the same shape as her shirt) that kills Ian because he gets in the way for her. So stop saying buuhuu he was going to kill Wendy. If he was, why is this his reaction to him realizing that's what she thinks?

If he's there to kill her, why is he surprised? He doesn't even have a weapon, and why, yeah, you can kill without weapons, but are you telling me this small fella' gonna kill Wendy with his bare hands with both Julie and Kevin right there with a lot of people around? Nonsense.

He's literally out of his mind with grief. He's had a full-on mental breakdown. He doesn't even know why he's there. He's literally yelling about what they have to do to stop this thing. He thinks he can't die! You can't look at this scene and tell me yaaah that guy's totally stable.

It doesn't excuse him stalking and blaming Wendy at all. No one is excusing that. But people who like him understand why he lost his mind, which haters seem to gloss over.

In regard to him refusing to believe anything Wendy says, sure it's annoying, but that's literally the reaction of 90% of the characters in the Final Destination movies. Ideally, they would believe them. That'd be very helpful. Personally, as someone who is a skeptic by nature, if someone came up to me and said we're gonna die one by one, I'd be skeptical too. I wouldn't be as dismissive and rude as Ian and Erin, but it is what it is. They are far from the only ones who don't believe the main characters. It's practically the pattern in these movies, including the new one.

And you know why?

Because "Seeing is believing."

Ian says so himself at the end. It's too late at this point. He's just sad. He's hurting. Obviously he doesn't move away from the falling cherry picker even though he has time because he doesn't care to. Just because he thinks he's skipped. Just because he thinks he can't die doesn't mean he wants to live. The same way when people ask if you're fine when you feel like shit, yet you tell them yeah. You're good. Or you're overworked and underpaid and feel like you're about to collapse in on yourself, yet all you can do is put a smile on your face.

And that's why I love the character. For a side character in an otherwise rather superficial franchise—that could have had a lot more depth—at least he leaves me thinking about him after the movie is over. Whether you love or hate him, you're still talking about him. You remember him lol.

If there's one thing people always bring up on why they love Final Destination 3, it's because they think the acting is overall better than in other movies in the series. Which is the same for me. I think Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Wendy, Kris Lemche as Ian, and Ryan Merriman as Kevin are wonderful.

How many moments in these movies do the characters either not react much at all or just react with the good ole' "shock gasp scream" when someone dies? Which is fine, but you gotta mix it up a bit. Everyone's just fine and dandy watching all these brutal deaths? Well, nah, there are some moments strewn in here and there where some characters react more realistically, but I do think Erin's death is on its own level. Ian, who's been cocky and cool most of the movie, is crying and screaming and then obviously has a full-on mental breakdown. Even Wendy and Kevin are crying despite not having been close to the couple.

Got a little sidetracked there, but what I'm saying is a great actor can make a stereotypical flat character on paper be a good one. Kris Lemche is an overall extremely underrated and overlooked actor, but also in this series. When people brag about the actors, it's usually only Mary that is pointed out, which is fair, she's the lead and she's great, but so are the rest.

*grumble grumble* he's not a villain!

The end.

[ruebossanova]

professor o'connell: the mini series - 17

college prof!billie x student!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: older!billie x younger!reader, slowslowslow burn, eventual smut, college life, hella tension, quiet/shy reader

masterlist

----------------------------------------------------------------

the café was tucked into the corner of a side street three blocks off campus.

the kind of place no one talked about but everyone knew.

painted brick. wood tables. glass jars full of silverware. mismatched chairs that looked like they'd been thrifted on purpose.

liora slid into the booth by the window. billie sat across from her, resting her chin on her hand, scanning the menu like she wasn't reading any of it.

sunlight spilled in slow through the glass, catching on the tiny gold ring in billie's left ear. she wore a faded navy tee and soft-washed jeans, hair half up. no makeup. not that she needed any.

"what's good here?" billie asked, finally.

"the tomato basil soup," liora said. "and the bread's... weirdly amazing."

"you trust soup?"

liora grinned. "you don't?"

"depends who's cooking. soup has too much potential for betrayal."

"that's... oddly poetic."

"no such thing as odd poetry," billie said, eyes flicking up to meet hers. "only weak metaphors."

liora shook her head, laughing softly.

they ordered — soup and grilled cheese for liora, black coffee and a sandwich billie didn't even glance at before picking.

after the server walked off, they sat in the low hush of early afternoon.

liora ran her finger along the edge of the napkin.

"do you always look away when you say something real?"

billie blinked. "i—what?"

"you said, 'this is real,'" liora said, voice quiet. "on the voicemail. and you looked away just now when i brought it up."

billie stared at her for a beat. then smirked faintly. "you really don't let people off the hook, huh?"

"only when they want off."

"and you think i don't?"

"you called me."

billie leaned back in the booth, eyes sharp and soft all at once. "yeah. i did."

liora lowered her gaze. "i don't know what this is. not exactly. but i know it's not nothing."

"same," billie said. her voice had that threadbare edge again. honest. fragile. "i keep waiting to panic again. to make it messy on purpose."

liora looked up. "and now?"

"now i'm just... trying to want the thing more than i fear it."

their food came.

liora didn't taste the first bite. didn't care. the space across the table felt like fire and fog all at once.

billie picked at her sandwich. barely ate.

then she said it — barely above a whisper:

"i like who i am around you. that's terrifying."

liora's heart kicked so hard it felt like it might bruise.

she didn't respond.

just smiled.

and reached across the table.

just enough for their fingertips to brush.

the check sat between them, folded once, untouched.

billie reached for it.

liora reached at the same time.

their fingers collided.

billie smirked. "i'm buying."

"no, you're not."

"i asked you to come here."

"you didn't ask."

"i implied it very well."

liora shook her head, but let her hand fall away.

billie slipped her card into the little black folder, the motion easy, practiced. then she looked out the window.

and stilled.

liora followed her gaze.

nova.

walking by.

wearing black jeans and a green windbreaker, earbuds in. a camera slung over her chest. she wasn't looking at anything in particular — until she was.

until her eyes met liora's through the glass.

she didn't stop.

just slowed.

long enough to be seen.

long enough to register.

then kept walking.

billie's jaw tensed.

liora said nothing.

neither of them moved.

five minutes later, her phone buzzed.

a text from nova.

nova: you look lighter.

liora didn't respond.

she just slid her phone back into her bag.

and looked back across the table.

billie was watching her again.

careful.

quiet.

like maybe this was the moment they'd find out how brave they really were.

the walk back was slow.

not on purpose. just... reluctant.

neither of them said much.

not because there was nothing to say — but because the silence was soft, not sharp. and sometimes quiet said more than anything else could.

when they reached the side entrance of the music building, billie paused.

"you wanna?"

she didn't say what. didn't need to.

liora nodded.

they slipped inside, past the long row of lockers and practice rooms, down the back stairwell to the second floor.

studio three was empty.

light from the tall windows fell in clean stripes across the wooden floor.

billie flicked on the lamp by the upright piano. it cast a yellow halo against the far wall.

she sat on the bench.

liora sat beside her.

this time, even closer than before.

their knees touched.

billie didn't move away.

she started playing — something slow, unfamiliar.

not one of their rehearsal pieces.

something new.

liora tilted her head. "yours?"

"half-finished."

"sing it."

"you first," billie said, glancing sideways.

liora smiled. cleared her throat. found the melody.

the lyrics didn't matter.

she sang anyway.

soft. sure.

and this time — billie joined her.

harmonizing. low.

her voice was smoke and wind against liora's lighter one.

and as they reached the end of the chorus, billie leaned in — just a little.

forehead nearly brushing liora's shoulder.

not dramatic.

not even deliberate.

just... natural.

like that was where she belonged.

the door creaked as they stepped out into the hall.

the air was cooler now, touched with evening. the building buzzed with the low hum of end-of-day activity—students packing up, music bleeding faintly from under practice room doors.

billie and liora walked side by side.

close.

too close for anyone not to notice.

and someone did.

three students — second-years, maybe — lounged near the stairwell. one looked up. paused. then grinned.

"yo, professor," he called, smirking. "private lessons?"

his friend snorted.

another one whistled.

not loud.

but sharp enough to cut.

billie stopped walking.

her entire frame went still, stiff.

liora turned her head, eyes hard.

but she didn't speak.

she didn't have to.

instead, she reached out.

brushed her arm against billie's — firm. steady. warm.

like she was still there. still with her.

billie let out a breath.

quiet.

tight.

but she didn't respond to the boys.

just kept walking.

shoulder pressed lightly to liora's the rest of the way down the hall.

the hallway was mostly quiet by the time liora passed through again.

she'd left her notebook in her cubby—half-intentionally—and came back just as the last few stragglers from night classes were filtering out.

she expected silence.

instead, she found the note.

folded in half.

tucked gently on top of her sketchpad.

her name written on the front in the same slanted handwriting she'd seen a hundred times now.

she opened it slowly.

inside: five words.

"studio one. 8:30. tonight."

and under that:

"don't overthink. just bring your voice."

no name.

didn't need one.

liora smiled.

folded the paper once more.

and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans like a secret she didn't want to share yet.

studio one was dark.

except for the hallway lamp bleeding in under the door, nothing moved.

liora stood in front of it for a beat, confused.

then a voice — low, familiar — echoed from down the hall.

"wrong place."

liora turned.

billie stood at the top of the stairwell.

half in shadow, one foot resting on the next step down, flask in hand.

"we're not rehearsing," she said. "we're talking."

liora followed without a word.

they sat side by side on the third step from the bottom, backs to the cool plaster wall. the flask passed between them, warm and sharp and smoky at the edges.

"what is this?" liora asked, glancing at the label.

"mistake from my twenties."

liora smirked. "you're in your twenties."

"technically."

"you still make mistakes?"

"constantly," billie said. "you?"

"every day."

a beat passed.

billie turned her head, eyes soft.

"you still afraid of this?"

"yes."

"good. means it's real."

liora tilted the flask against her lips again. "you always say shit like that?"

"only to people who listen."

liora handed it back. "i don't always understand it."

billie looked down at the metal in her hand. "you don't need to."

they sat in silence for a while.

just breathing.

then billie asked, quieter:

"what scares you most about wanting me?"

liora didn't answer right away.

then: "that you'll stop."

billie blinked.

liora turned toward her. "you pull back. a lot."

"i know."

"and i don't know how to tell if it's because you're scared or because you're done."

billie didn't answer.

not right away.

she just leaned forward.

elbows on her knees.

head down.

then, soft as breath: "i'm not done."

the stairwell buzzed with quiet.

just the hum of the building. a faint footstep overhead. some song from a distant room muffled by concrete and years.

billie turned toward liora.

her eyes were darker in this light. softer.

"you always look like you're thinking too much," she said.

"you always look like you know what i'm thinking."

billie smiled. small. tired.

"not always."

liora studied her for a second.

the curve of her jaw.

the tension at her temple.

the way her fingers drummed, slow and nervous, against the edge of the flask.

"can i..." liora started, then stopped.

"what?"

"your hair."

billie blinked.

liora reached — slow — and brushed a strand behind billie's ear.

her skin buzzed where they touched.

billie didn't flinch.

just stared at her.

quiet.

raw.

too much.

liora's voice dropped to a whisper.

"if i kissed you, would you stop me?"

billie's eyes flicked down.

then up.

then nowhere.

she didn't say anything.

she just reached out.

and touched liora's hand.

light.

slow.

like she wasn't ready.

but she wanted to be.

⸻

the sky outside liora's window hadn't even started to lighten yet.

just a dull, silver haze at the horizon.

she blinked awake at 4:12 a.m., heart thudding like it had been dreaming too hard, too loud. she didn't remember what the dream was—only that it felt like something unfinished. something that left her mouth half-open and her thoughts twisted around a moment she hadn't lived all the way through.

the stairwell.

billie's hand.

the way her fingers had pressed just slightly into her palm, like an answer without words.

liora rolled over.

stared at the ceiling.

tried not to think about the fact that her hands were still warm.

by 4:38 she gave up pretending sleep was an option.

she slipped from the bed, hoodie over her tank top, notebook tucked under one arm, socks sliding over the cold floor as she moved to her desk in the dim quiet.

the lamp buzzed faintly when she clicked it on.

the page met her hand without resistance.

she wrote.

not lyrics, exactly. not structure. just lines. pieces. echoes.

"i felt you without touching and it was worse somehow. because if i'd kissed you, i could blame the moment. but you didn't kiss me. you just stayed."

she paused.

tapped the pen against the side of her journal.

then added, in smaller handwriting, lower on the page:

"and maybe i stayed too."

the sky outside started to shift, dark blue melting toward morning.

liora didn't text billie.

she picked up her phone. looked at the screen. locked it again.

and just sat there.

writing her way toward an answer she didn't know how to ask for.

by ten-thirty, liora had already forgotten the names of three people who spoke to her.

maybe it was the lack of sleep. or the dream. or the echo of billie's fingers, still wrapped around hers in a memory that refused to fade.

everything felt too loud today.

too bright.

the fluorescent lights in the science building buzzed like they were trying to tune into a frequency she couldn't hear. her professor's voice ricocheted through her skull without landing anywhere.

by noon, she had retreated to the library — corner booth, headphones in, music low, page open in front of her that she wasn't reading.

she didn't even notice nova until she dropped her bag beside the table.

"you ghosted me."

liora blinked, startled.

nova raised an eyebrow, arms folded. "you okay?"

"yeah," liora said automatically.

nova tilted her head.

liora didn't meet her gaze. "i'm fine."

"you're a shit liar."

liora almost smiled.

"it's not what you think," she said, still not looking.

"what do i think?"

"i don't know. but it's not that."

nova slid into the seat across from her. "you look... like you're holding your breath."

liora's lips pressed together.

then: "maybe i am."

nova didn't push.

just nodded.

then reached across the table and plucked one of liora's earbuds out.

"you need air," she said. "get up. we're walking."

liora hesitated.

then followed.

because it was either that or drown in everything she hadn't said out loud yet.

the rehearsal room smelled like rosin and heat.

chairs in a half-circle, violins left leaning against stands, pages fluttering slightly from the breeze of the cracked window.

liora stood near the back, re-packing her folder when she heard the sound of footsteps that didn't belong to anyone from the ensemble.

she didn't have to look.

she knew the cadence already.

billie.

"you left this."

liora turned, and billie was right there — holding out a black ink pen.

liora blinked. "that's not mine."

"yeah it is," billie said, not smiling, not looking away. "you had it this morning. right before you annotated that Strauss line in red ink like a criminal."

liora took the pen slowly. "maybe."

"definitely."

they stood there in the half-shadow of the backstage curtain, no one else in sight.

billie didn't step back.

didn't move away.

liora tucked the pen into the side of her notebook. "thanks."

billie nodded once.

but didn't leave.

just stayed.

watching her.

like the air between them was full of words she didn't want to say in public.

and liora?

she didn't breathe until billie did.

the rooftop door creaked louder than either of them expected.

billie winced. "remind me to oil that hinge."

liora smiled faintly. "noted."

the sky above was a faded navy, edges dipped in gold where the last of the sunset clung. streetlights flickered below. the city beyond the trees hummed like a song without lyrics.

billie sat first.

against the wall, back to the brick, one knee up.

liora joined her.

no touching.

not yet.

just presence.

billie let out a slow breath and tilted her head back against the wall. "you ever think about what it means to just... stop?"

liora glanced sideways. "stop what?"

"everything."

a pause.

liora watched the tip of billie's shoe twitch. "i don't think i know how."

"same."

silence.

not uncomfortable. not quite.

just wide.

then billie hummed something — soft, low, aimless.

liora turned toward her, listening.

it wasn't a song she knew. maybe not one that existed yet.

"is that yours?" she asked, voice gentle.

billie nodded. "it's not done."

"keep going."

"i don't have words yet."

"doesn't need them."

billie looked over at her.

their eyes met.

and stayed.

for a breath.

for two.

then billie looked away. back at the sky.

and started humming again.

and liora?

she didn't speak again.

just sat there, beside her.

like that hum was the only truth she needed.

they didn't talk on the way down.

billie held the rooftop door for her.

liora walked a little too close beside her.

and for once, the silence wasn't full of questions.

it was full of something steadier.

until they turned the corner by the practice wing.

and someone was there.

leaning against the lockers.

phone in hand.

hood up.

he looked up when he heard footsteps.

and smirked.

"should've figured," he muttered, voice loud enough to carry. "you're always chasing the quiet ones."

billie stopped walking.

liora did too.

the boy's eyes flicked to her, then back to billie.

"what's the rule now, professor? they gotta be over eighteen or just enrolled?"

liora's chest went tight.

she didn't speak.

couldn't.

but billie?

she stepped forward.

not fast.

not dramatic.

just enough.

her voice came out low, even.

"say that again."

the boy blinked.

faltered.

billie's gaze didn't waver.

"go ahead. finish your sentence."

he didn't.

just shifted his weight.

mumbled something about a joke.

looked down at his phone.

billie leaned forward just slightly.

not touching him.

not even close.

but her words were razor-sharp.

"you don't matter."

the air went still.

the boy looked up.

something in his face — pride, or smugness — cracked.

billie turned away.

walked off like the hallway belonged to her.

and liora?

she followed.

heart hammering.

hands shaking.

not from fear.

from the sheer weight of being seen.

they didn't speak the rest of the way out.

not on the walk across campus.

not at the crosswalk where the light took too long to change.

not even when they reached the edge of the dorms and liora stopped, half-turning.

billie gave her a look — unreadable, like most of her expressions when she didn't want to let anything show — and nodded once.

then walked away.

and that should've been it.

but it wasn't.

not really.

hours passed.

liora didn't open her notebook.

couldn't.

she laid on her bed, headphones in, volume low, staring at the ceiling like maybe it could answer something for her.

the knock came just after eleven.

not loud.

just three soft taps.

by the time she got to the door, the hallway was empty.

but taped to the outside, neat and centered, was a folded square of lined paper.

her name in small handwriting across the front.

she peeled the tape off gently and opened it.

inside:

"for what it's worth — you always matter."

no signature.

didn't need one.

liora didn't cry.

she just pressed the paper flat against her chest and closed her eyes for a long, long time.

the walk to billie's apartment felt longer than usual.

the streetlights cast everything in gold and blue, stretched shadows bleeding across the sidewalk. liora's hands were deep in her hoodie pocket, her pulse a steady thrum she couldn't slow.

she didn't text.

didn't call.

she just showed up.

because it felt like the only thing she could do that didn't make her heart fold in on itself.

she knocked once.

then again, softer.

footsteps inside.

the lock clicked.

the door opened.

billie stood in the doorway.

barefoot.

hair up in a haphazard twist.

t-shirt loose, sleeves pushed up.

she looked at liora for a full second.

said nothing.

then stepped forward.

and pulled her in.

no words.

no questions.

just arms around her, slow and sure.

liora didn't breathe for a second.

just let her chin rest against billie's shoulder.

let her fingers bunch into the fabric of billie's shirt.

felt everything tighten.

then soften.

billie's voice, quiet, close:

"you okay?"

liora nodded.

"yeah," she whispered. "i just... needed to be here."

billie pulled back just enough to look at her.

their faces close.

breath shared.

neither of them moved.

not for a kiss.

not for anything more.

but something in that space between their mouths felt like a held breath.

like a beginning.

like maybe, just maybe —

they were already halfway home.

----------------------------------------------------------------

tags; @bxllxebxtch @st0nerlesb0 @dousleepanymore @mxmsuki @billiescation @angellvk @bilswifee @ilomilobabyy

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The more I see your work and the more I see of poorly drawn scum villain, the more I'm tempted to do a poorly drawn tgcf 🥺 (I've only just started listening to it and I absolutely love it!!)

I just don't think I'm as funny as both of you and don't know if I could commit to uploading as regularly as you both do.

But oh! I am SO very tempted!! 😭

Working on an adaption of an existing media as a long form project is honestly my strongest recommendation for getting your creative brain going! Of course, there is still planning and hard work that goes into it, but the biggest creative pressures are much lower (And when anxiety brain is quiet, art brain thrives!)

That said, projects like this are a huge commitment, and I'm a bit of a freak case when it comes to the grind. PD-Scumvillian and I both put a lot of work behind the scenes to make it seem as effortless as it is. I'm wholeheartedly giving you my support should you go through with it; feel free to reach out and ask for tips and tricks!

[azaracyy]

a lesson on good karma digimon survive week 2024 day 4: supporting characters

[vaguely-concerned]

I've been picking mostly only the essential flirt options with lucanis in the romance so far (I've personally found the dynamic much more natural and mutual when you do that, more like forming a solid friendship slowly and inevitably becoming something else and less like you keep pushing on him and getting little back b/c he seemingly just gets overwhelmed and goes into freeze instead), and I think rye is a pretty hard person to read at the best of times even though he's been Down Real Bad from pretty early on and their chemistry as people is naturally really good. so the way the almost-kiss plays out in this playthrough feels a lot like it has the added layer of lucanis realizing that no but for sure rook is flirting and not just being kind or a good friend* it IS actually happening it's not just wishful/fearful thinking!!! and then uh. maybe going a bit too hard a bit too fast in all the excitement at that revelation haha

*in lucanis' defense he has seemingly literally never had a friend who wasn't his cousin-brother before, under those circumstances I suppose some confusion is extremely natural if not outright expected lmao

[greenfiend]

Will is Superman…

[thedrotter]

comparison!! yuu as I drew him in 2024, february 5th; and this panel from my latest post that just so happened to be drawn in february 5th 2025...

it has been a full year since i started to draw re:kinder like crazy www when drawing yuu i'd always reference one of my own drawings of him for consistency, yet even the way i draw him changed quite a lot www

but im very happy with it😊😊 thought id share this since im amused by the evolution of it

[gu6chan]

work related question does anyone have any fun anime for likely 12-14 year olds that to their ulta-conservative conspiracy theory parents would have no objectionable content whatsoever that's not like . pokemon. i live in the most conservative area in michigan btw /hj

[frobby]

i love madoka magica however i dont think we as a fandom talk enough about how tragic madoka herself is. probably because the narrative itself steers you away from thinking about her personally. shes not a character shes a desire that homura has, shes a force of good, shes homura's foil. but those are all madoka's narrative roles but madoka herself as a person is not really looked at because we are viewing this world from an unreliable narrator(homura) who only sees madoka as those things. The best thing homura could have done for madoka was give up on her, to let her go. because every time we go back in time the image of madoka is distorted, she loses more of herself every regression of homura's as she tries harder and harder to save her. We don't even know what madoka originally wished for to become a magical girl in the original timeline. and she actually acts quite differently than the madoka we meet. shes a lot more honest and caring and bold. by the time homura's has reached the actual anime madoka has been reduced by the sands of time to a figment of herself. she has no wants or desires of her own beyond wanting to do good and help her friends and when all her humanity is stripped away is when she finally acends to godhood because thats all thats left of her. an ideal and a faith in her. madoka kaname died a long time ago and all that is left is her ghost.

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[jorvikzelda]

today i had this Vivid memory flash through my mind of kissing my ex boyfriend (this was like 2018) and i felt so viscerally fucking revolted and I gotta say. it is truly impressive that I didn’t realise I’m a lesbian sooner than fucking half a year ago

[britneyshakespeare]

the middle school principal wants to hire me in a full-time position so bad.

and who can blame him? i'm that substitute 💅

[penname-artist]

rahh guess whose bored and also back