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girliism · 15 days ago

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punk!partick zweig x jock!art donaldson

“twenty-five”

“oh fuck off. since when did you up prices?”

“since i needed a new drumset.”

it was in between fourth period right before gym that every wednesday art would meet patrick on the side of the school to get his weekly order of weed. which was usually only fifteen dollars.

“i’m not giving you twenty-five dollars for a baggie of prerolleds.”

“what? mommy and daddy not give you enough today?” patrick pouted sarcastically, and art had to resist to urge to punch his face. “fuck you zweig.” art spit out. “we agreed from the beginning it was fifteen” patrick let out an obnoxious groan throwing his head back, the bell was gonna ring soon and he couldn’t afford another late mark.

“look, dude are you gonna pay me or not?”

art paused, contemplating. this last week was incredibly stressful. back to back test, practice every day after school, he need this. plus it was just twenty-five dollars…

“fuck, fine.” art huffed, pulling out his wallet and placing twenty-five dollars in patrick’s hand making the trade. “pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“wait.” art called, stopping patrick in his tracks. “there’s only 4 joints in here. i gave you more money so i want more product.” patrick sighed. “i don’t have more on me you’d have to come over and pick up.” art nodded, “ok, i’ll be over after school.”

“i’ll be waiting.”

art watched patrick stomped his way to gym class. his big combat boots slamming against the pavement.

three hard knocks hit patrick’s door, and when he opened a tired looking art dondalson stood in front of him.

“just in time dondalson.” patrick moved out the way letting art step into his home. taking a look around art felt bad for assuming patrick had lived in a dump. it was your typical upper middle class family home. professional family photos along with candid ones lined the walls, and it smelt like…. cinnamon?

“my parents aren’t home so you don’t have to worry about autographs or anything.” patrick joked.

art was somewhat of a home town celebrity. he was the star player in all the major sports, he volunteered at the local church’s events, had the perfect all american boy thing going for him. tall, athletic, blonde. everyone knew and loved him.

patrick silently lead the way up the stairs and to his room. art tried to keep his focus anywhere but patrick’s naked back that was on display.

instantly the smell of marijuana and the sound of bodies by sex pistols invaded art’s nose and ears.

“you can have a seat anywhere.” patrick gestured around his room.

art took his hands out the pockets of his lettermen jacket, and took a seat on the ground at the foot of patrick’s bed looking around. it was made up of dark colors like reds and blacks, there were posters of various bands up on the wall, and small drum set sat in the corner of his room by the window. piles of most likely dirty clothes lingered in different places. art’s mother would have killed him if his room looked like this.

“here you go.” a bag of four joints came into art’s view. he mumbled a thank you looking up at patrick who was now wearing a black t-shirt with a hole in the neckline.

“do you mind if i?” art motioned to the joint now out of the bag and in between his fingers. patrick shook his head, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and the sparking it. art leaned forward letting the rolling paper catch fire.

art never really gets high with other people. he liked to save this activity for himself, but he felt weird not at least offering. which he did, and patrick accepted.

inhale, hold, exhale, pass. inhale, hold, exhale, pass.

it continued on like that, back and forth. the two of them sitting side by side mindlessly watching beavis and butthead. with every pass and of the joint their fingers brushed sending shocks through art’s body. he blamed his reaction on the weed.

“you know you’re like my most loyal costumers. every wednesday without fail you’re always there.” patrick randomly blurted. “always wonder why a perfect kid like you needs to get high so badly.”

perfect kid like you. the description made art want to scream. “yeah—well, being the perfect kid gets tiring.” patrick scoffed around the joint in his mouth. “oh yeah, i’m sure being loved by everyone is so tiring.” his eyes rolled and art sent him a dirty look. “it is actually. doing and being everything everyone expects of you is exhausting, this is the one thing i have to myself, for myself. i’m not looking for you to understand, ok. you asked and i answered.” art inhaled the smoke a little longer than this time.

patrick watched him with a tiny ounce of pity. “hey, i didn’t mean anything by it-” art cut him off. “it’s fine.” they finished off the joint leaving them sitting in silence through their highs until patrick spoke again.

“i did the whole conformity thing too. i wore my polos and khakis, i smiled and laughed with everyone then talked shit behind their backs. but i got tired of acting, so i stopped.” patrick looked over at art. “you don’t always have to be what they what you to be.” and art wished that was true, but he was in too deep. art shook his head and shrugged. “wouldn’t even know where to start.” he mumbled, blue eyes staring into patrick’s green ones.

the flick of art’s gaze going from patrick’s eyes to his lips was almost missed by him, but patrick managed to catch it. “start here.”

in a blink of an eye patrick’s lips crashed into arts. the cold metal of patrick’s lip ring pressed against art’s skin. art has only done this, kiss boys, a few other times and he was drunk for all of them. but even now high out of his mind he felt more sober during this than the other ones.

their mouths moved messily against each other’s. patrick taking the lead with confidence while art fumbled behide him trying to overpower but failing. it wasn’t until art felt patrick’s tongue push into his mouth that he remembered patrick wasn’t some guy at some party next town over. he went to school with him knew who he was. he was a conflict of interest.

art pulled away out of breath. “wait—wait. i’m not like gay or anything, ok?” patrick stared at him, chest heaving. “okay. me neither, at least not fully.” patrick added with a smirk, and before art could decipher what he ment their lips were connected again. patrick’s hand on the back of art’s neck pulling him closer then sliding down the front of his chest and stopped at his belt buckle. art took the hint and moved to undo his belt and zipper. patrick kissed his necks leaving marks behind while his hands moved to pull art’s cock out his jeans.

“oh, fuuuuck.” art’s head fell back onto the bed behind him as patrick’s warm wet mouth engulfed him. out of all the blowjobs art had gotten this was probably the best, but that could’ve been the drugs in his system talking. he doubted it.

patrick bobbed his head at the perfect pace, jerking with his hand what he couldn’t fit in his mouth. out of instinct art’s hips bucked up causing the head of his cock to hit the back of patrick’s throat. patrick reacted with a gag turned moan around him that sent vibrations through art’s body.

“god, you’re so whiny.” patrick said mainly to himself as he came up for a breather. art proved him right by responding with a low whine. patrick took art’s dick back in his mouth but not fully, only focusing on the tip. wrapping his mouth around it suckling. letting his pink tongue slide against the slit, collecting the salty precum that sat there. and when his redden eyes looked up into art’s the blonde almost came on the spot.

“can i fuck you?” patrick asked, keeping a slow jerking hand on art’s dick.

art has never gone that far with a guy before, but something about patrick had him agreeing without without hesitation. the next moments were a blur of clothes being shed and thrown around the room. patrick guided art onto his hands and knees, reaching over from behind him into his nightstand for a bottle of lube and a condom.

patrick ran his hands up the backs of art’s thighs and over his ass trying to soothe him. art flinched at the cold wetness of the lube that hit his hole.

“ok, you gotta relax and just breathe.” patrick said softly, rubbing his fingers against the tight ring of muscles. art took a deep breath in and on his exhale out patrick pushed his finger in.

“o-oh!”

a broken moan fell from art as patrick worked his pointed finger in and out slowly.

“you’re so fucking tight.”

patrick managed to get his second finger inside, and art was already a mess. lips red and swollen from him biting back his sounds, his cock twitching at every drag of patrick thick fingers along his inner walls. “put it in. need it, please.” art begged, stopping patrick in his tracks. never in a million years did he think he’d have art dondalson, golden boy, in his bed. let alone begging for his cock.

patrick pulled his fingers free, and opened the condom rolling it on. “who knew you were so needy.” he teased. more lube was poured on art’s hole and then onto patrick’s covered dick. it was messy, but patrick liked it like that.

the tip of patrick’s cock probed at art’s entrance, and for a second art was regretting this. but then patrick pushed in, slowly feeding the length of his cock into art’s body, and his mind went to mush.

“holy shit you’re even tighter around my dick than my fingers.” patrick spoke like he was holding his breath like his was holding back fucking into art at full speed. art could barely speak more than incoherent mumbles. “big, so—fuck. s’big.” patrick finally bottomed out and stilled inside letting art get used to the stretch. his big hands held onto art’s waist. “your waist is so small, art. like a girls.” the comments caused art to moan and push back on patrick, signaling that he could move now.

patrick pulled all the way out til just his tip was in before thrusting forward hard. twin moans fell from both the men. if patrick was any other guy he would have gone slow for art’s first time, but he was the complete opposite. he liked to fuck how he played his drums. fast, hard, and punishing.

“taking me so fucking well. you sure this your first time getting fucked?” patrick thrusted into him to with a bruising grip on his waist. art’s tongue felt paralyzed in his mouth. all the words he tried to say just coming out as moans and whimpers. “feels good doesn’t it?” one patrick’s hands left art’s waist and traveled to his hair grabbed the strands and pulling. “feels good to let go for once.”

“u-uh huh.”

the sounds of patrick’s hips smacking against art’s ass and the obscene squelching noise from the lube echoed throughout the room. art could feel himself getting closer to his orgasm that’s been building. “p-pat-patrick!” the headboard beat against the bedroom wall drowning out his cries.

“so perfect. perfect fucking hole. s-shit!” patrick’s hands moved from art’s hair to the back of his neck, pushing art’s face into the pillows below. the new angle had patrick hitting against art’s prostate. he knew he’d found it when he felt art tightened around him and he saw his fist hit the mattress.

“holy fuck, shit, oh god!” art’s eyes squeezed shut so tight he saw stars and then. “p-pa-” the name died on his tongue as his orgasm rushed over him in a silent scream. the black comforter now stained with his cum and patrick pillows stained with his tears and slob. art’s body twitched from overstimulation as patrick continued fucking him, chasing after his own orgasm.

a low strained groan sounded from behind art as patrick stopped moving inside him. “f-fuck, a-ah!” thick white ropes of cum filled the condom.

patrick pulled out taking off his condom, tying it and tossing it into the trash can by his bed.

the two of them laid side by side, catching their breath. art on his front patrick on his back. teenage lobotomy by the ramones came on and patrick looked over at art. his face was flushed and tears were drying on his cheeks, he was on the verge of falling asleep when patrick said. “you hungry?” art muttered something along the lines of yeah so patrick got up to go downstairs. when he returned, a plate two sandwiches and a bottle of apple juice in hand art was completely knocked out. mouth hung open and snoring.

#girliism #challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #artrick #artrick smut #punk!patrick #jock!art

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the-fiction-witch · 2 years ago

Text

Breathless

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty Af

Warning: Medical emergency / Asthma Attack

I woke, as I typically did with a sharp fast gasp. immediately I heard the wheeze in my chest like a pair of old moth-eaten bellows. I sighed and turned to my bedstand opening the little rosewood box and hearing the gentle tune of the music box inside plaid as soon as I opened it I grabbed one of the prerolled cigarettes shutting the box again and saw the candle on my bedside table still burning so I set the tip in the flame until it began to smoulder so I laid down on my back slowly but surely taking a deep inhale and blowing the resulting smoke across my ceiling. It fixed it as much as it ever did so I finished up and set the end in my little metal box with many others.

"There's my sweet girl!" My father gleamed as he entered my bedroom with a wide smile

"Good Morning Father," I smiled sitting up in my bed

"It is a fantastic morning, A perfect morning for our party!" He cheered going to open my curtains to let in the sunshine

I smiled as much as I could force, I knew this was important to him and I wanted only to be supportive.

"I have a gift for you" He smiled tapping my nose playfully He clicked his fingers towards the door and the maid scurried in with a large box in hand, he took the box from her and set it on the bed opening the box up pulling out from the tissue and ribbon a sweet expensive new dress.

It was beautiful, A long off-the-shoulder dress of a sweet fabric a light pale pink with vertical strips of purple, and white lace at its hem, neckline and lace elbow-length sleeves with a black ribbon at its waist. It was utterly beautiful and would not have been cheap for my father to buy. but I began to panic as I looked at it seeing the ribbon and how small it was.

I knew my father, he meant well but he always did this and always it made me fearful.

But I forced a smile "Thank you Father" I said giving his cheek a kiss

"You're welcome, Now come along guests begin to arrive soon" He said rushing off to make preparations.

I sighed climbing from my bed, I went and had a nice hot bath laying in the warm water for longer than I should just because it seemed to soothe my chest but I soon climbed out and went to my window in my towel looking out to the gardens.

My father was a very wealthy businessman in port with a lot of dealings coming and going in shipping, of course, our house was lustrous and grand second only to the governors only a few miles up the road, but the governor could not hold a candle to my father's gardens, well known in the area and beyond for the grandiose and beauty of the many exotic flowers and plants from all over the world, He took great pride in the garden and this combined with his utter love fort entertaining. Meant we had an awful lot of garden parties.

Today was no exception my father was hosting a garden party and had invited everyone who could be imagined. He adored parties being an utter social butterfly, I however was more of an.... antisocial bookworm not much wanting to go but knowing word would spread if I didn't attend my father's own parties. It didn't much help my looming age knowing at the back of my mind certain men had been invited not due to my father really wanting them at the party but my father realizing they could be a good match for me so invited them in the hope one would catch my interest. But I know I am a very lucky girl, Many fathers would be insisting by now or would have wedded their daughter off for a business deal. But My father was a decent man and had always promised me I could choose my husband, that I could marry for love no matter who it would be. He felt he couldn't deny me what he and my mother had.

I went to my mirror and began to dress, I pulled my white stockings up to my thighs adjusting them so the little lilac bows would sit forward, I pulled my long cotton underdress over my body tugging it down as far as it would go, by then my maid arrived and I gulped as she picked up my cream corset. I simply watched the mirror doing my best to not panic as she wrapped it around me and began to lace the back, I did my best to keep my breaths slow and steady but that wasn't exactly easy until finally she finished with the back, she pinned the ribbons in place and turned me to face her so she could pull the ribbons to the front to lace it again leaving me squeezed as much as possible

"How much more?" I gasped already feeling breathless

"Not much more Miss." she said "Pencil thin is the London style miss" She reassured

"I am not a pencil. I am a lady." I argued half of me was joking the other half was serious.

Finally, she tied the last bow and removed the pin in the back as there was now no give in the ribbon at all, she took my crinoline the large wicker bird cage-looking thing that always made me smile a little tieing it simply around my waist and she helped me to slip on my dress, it was beautiful and I did feel very pretty even if again the lacing began as she all but sewed me into the dress ensuring it would be as close to me as possible. Not being helped by my father's purchase choices.

"Alright miss?" she asked as she finished the last bow

"Yes. Thank you" I lied, finally she helped me into my shoes and left to attend the party. "Women in London must have learnt not to need to breathe" I sighed I sat at my vanity and did what little make-up I bothered with before finally taking my hair from the tight braid I had done last night allowing it to now be in sweet curls. Once done I looked out to the window again seeing people had already gathered for the party so I grabbed my lace fan and my parasol and headed down to the gardens.

"Ahhh My goodness an angel!" My father joked as he saw me "You look beautiful" He smiled

"Thank you Father" I smiled

"Go on then, Mingle I'll check in on you later," He told me ushering me deeper into the party, I did my rounds parasol in hand often batting my fan to try and get some air down my throat doing my best to greet and be pleasant with people.

As I made the rounds I took note of those who were here already spotting a few men my father would have invited purely in the hopes of grabbing my attention but as I walked to a less populated area of the garden I took a seat for a moment on the stone bench I spotted a similar soul.

He stood by one of the statues away from the main business of the party, dressed in his usual way but cleaned up a little better, he seemed awkward unsure why he was here, out of place in this bussle. I felt for him of course and for a moment even I wasn't sure why he was here. But then I recalled seeing Dr Sneed on my walk around the party and I know how my father thinks, my father would have invited Dr Sneed because he is his doctor and thus not inviting his own doctor to his party would be rude, and of course then in my fathers mind he must also invite Dr Dawkins for if he invited Sneed and Not Dawkins that too would have been rude. Honestly, I'm surprised he took up the invitation. For a moment we caught eyes and he offered me a small smile so I did my best to do so back.

“You alright my sweet?’ my father asked as he approached sitting beside me

“Yes, just wanted a moment from all the excitement” I smiled

‘ahh well come along we are to begin the walk” he smiled to me taking my hand and soon enough the walk began, this was typical of every party my father would lead a walk around the gardens explaining almost every flower and plant giving a tour to the guests of course most ate it up but I slowly but surely slinked away until I was at the very back of the walk where I again found Dr Dawkins.

“Good day doctor”

“Good day miss y/l/n, does your father always do this?’

“Yes” I chuckled moving my parasol slightly higher as to protect him too

“AHH thank you” he smiled moving a little closer to be under the protection of the lace from the blistering sun

“Quite alright” I answered “what brings you to the party?”

“Your father invited me. Wasn't going to bother but something to do I suppose’ he chuckled

“I guess. I rather find it all tedious”

“well we agree on some things’ he chuckled “I have to admit though your dress is utterly stunning”

“Thank you doctor’ I blushed a little but had to fan myself quickly as I felt slightly breathless from the walking

“Ohh don't worry pleatenties of the party you can just call me jack” he smiled

“ohh that's very sweet, thank you jack’ I smiled “then y/n I insist”

“Why thank you, My god is he going to take us past every plant?” He whispered

“That he is” I smiled

“Any particular reason?’

‘its his pride. He adores his garden above all else?”

“Even you?’

“I don't know, I should hope not but I wouldn't be surprised’

“Why? Why would be focus so much on his garden and not his daughter?”

“He promised my other that her beloved garden would always bloom, she died only a few days later” I explained

“Ohh forgive me y/n I-”

“It's alright, he can be… overboard at times” I said doing my best to slow and catch my breath

“Are you alright?’ he asked

“Yes forgive me-”

“No no it's alright, are you sure? You seem lost for breath?’ he said carefully taking my arm

“I'm fine” I answered as I gasped trying hard not to wheeze or cry anything that might draw attention to myself he seemed panicked I tried again and gasp but it just wasn't working and I almost went over

“Whoa. I'm taking you inside’ he said quickly putting an arm around me and taking me quickly back to the house I dropped my parasol and fan as soon as I got in the door trying desperately to get my breath in “which way to your room?”

“This way” I gasped now beginning to cough and wheeze loudly taking his hand and leading him to my room as soon as I was inside I leant on my ottoman trying desperately to get some air into my lungs as he shut the door and came over

“Are you short of breath?”

“Yes” I gasped surely that was obvious

“try to breathe slow for me if you can” he asked and I did my best but that only made me wheeze louder

“Take off your dress.” He said

“I beg your pardon Dr Dawkins!’ I argued

“I need to examine you take off your dress” he said

“I cannot” I answered between gasps

“I'm a doctor I won't look y/n but I need to exmaine you” he said

“No I cannot. My maid she-”

“She's sewn you into the dress?” he asked and I nodded “alright” he said slipping off his jacket and grabbing a small knife from his pocket “I'll be as careful as I can” he said slowly using the blade to cut where my dress had been stitched by my maid until finally it released I quickly stepped away and pushed the dress off me as well as my crinoline immediately I felt a little better as I looked forward letting out slow breaths I caught sight of jack in my mirror he lied to me. He was looking. But I felt still so breathless that I tumbled onto my ottoman ‘whoa whoa! I got you. I got you.” He reassured only just catching me making me sit on the ottoman “I need to remove your corset”

“Doctor!”

“I have to remove it” he said coming to face me starting to unlace my corset ties quickly with his nimble fingers “out of curiosity. How'd your mother die?”

“Respiratory failure” I gasped and he looked up to me seeming panicked

“How old was she?”

“Twenty nine”

“Christ - for - god-” he grunted trying to deal with the knots and loops and ties in my corset until finally he unlaced the front and tried to pull it off but of course it didn't move he looked confused so I moved his hand to my back and he moved behind me seeing of course all the lacing on the back ‘oh you gotta be kidding me!’ he complained “they really didn't want you of this dress.’ he said fighting with the ties before “fuck it!’ he complained grabbing his knife again and cutting though the lacing managing to force the whole corset off me and that helped considerably “there we go.” He said a lift proud of himself “nice and slow let me listen” he said for a moment looking around the room clearly for something to use to listen but “I don't have my tools uhhh okay. Guess we have to do this the old fashioned way” he said sitting on the ottoman with me lifting my underdress up to expose my bare back I glanced in the mirror again and saw his cheeks slightly deeper with red his eyes glancing down from my neck all the way to the ottoman before he moved closer resting his head on my back to press his ear to my skin “nice and slow for me. Just breathe with me In. And out. In and back out” he said and I did my best to breath with him even if I ended up coughing and wheezing as he walked me through a few long breaths “how long have you been like this?” He asked as he pulled back moving so I could see his face letting go of my underdress

“Forever”

“I get the feeling you need to tell me something.” He said

“I'm asthmatic. Have been as long as I can remember.” I answered

“That certainly explains a lot” he said “when did a doctor tell you?”

“I was nine.”

“I take it your mother was too?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, how are you managing it? What do you have to take when you get like this?” He asked

“The box on my bedside table” I told him still struggling he got up and went to the box seeming confused

“What are these?”

“Asthma cigarettes. Prof prescribed them” I answered

“You smoke!’ he argued

“On doctors instructions yes.” I answered

“Are you mad!”

“There not tobacco there thorn apple leaves there meant to help” I said

He sighed begrudgingly bringing one over so I took it and lit it on a candle sitting for a few moments slowly inhaling it all

He brushed the smoke away from his face a moment before rather angrily speaking “he's mad.”

“It helps.”

“So would you sitting not moving for the ten minutes it took you to smoke that” he argued “but that dress wasn't helping in the slightest why on earth did they lace you in that corset so much?”

“It's the style apparently. Plus I needed to”

“Why?”

“...father buys all my dresses two sizes smaller then I am. I have to double lace the corset for a hope of even getting in them

“Why would he do that?”

“He means well. He thinks if he buys all my clothes too small it's… encouraging”

“Encouraging? I hate to ask but when did you last eat anything?”

“...four days ago.”

“Okay, that is also not going to be helping.” He said

“Yeah well you try fitting into a dress with a twenty one inch waist” I pouted

“I think he's trying to kill you.” He joked “you feel a bit better now?”

“Yes. Thank you jack”

“You're welcome. How often do you get attacks like that?”

“once a week or so.”

“Does your father know?”

“Somewhat. I don't always tell him the whole truth”

“Would you be against coming to the hospital?”

“What?”

“I am not confident about leaving you alone tonight. If you agree I'll talk to your father take you to the hospital I'll keep you under observation myself.”

“Why?”

“.... I fear this may be worse then just a simple attack y/n”

“I don't want to worry my father. he's fearful enough as it is”

“Then which would you rather? He be a little worried a stressed as you spend the night in hospital in my care or he comes in here and finds you dead in your bed tomorrow morning because I'm pretty sure which one will upset him more.”

“One night?”

“One night. Under observation.”

“Alright jack”

“Thank you y/n” he smiled giving my hand a kiss “just rest i'll go see your father” he said as he got up and headed out of my room.

Eventually he arrived with my father in tow and the two discussed as my maid packed me some items and my father called us a carriage, I changed into my loosest dress doing my best not to show my father my struggles

“Perhaps Dr sneed would be better he is my doctor he's taken such food care of me” he began

“Dr sneed is very busy he won't have time and what she needs is observations now I have the time to do so”

“Keep me posted won't you?”

“I promise.”

“You'll take care of her doctor?”

“Absolutely, I promise she'll be back right as rain”

“Alright, I'll see you soon sweetheart” he smiled kissing my head before he slowly and tenderly let my hand go giving it to jack, he smiled to me squeezing my hand and leading me slowly to the carriage luckily the party never even noticed but as i sat down my father pulled jack close to him. “Anything happens to her. It's your head.”

“Yes sir” he nodded before climbing into the carriage with me.

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #jackdawkins #jack dawkins #jack #thearttfuldodger #the artful dodger #theartfuldogger

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glitterjuju · 2 years ago

Text

Big Brat Energy

Summary: Sometimes it takes being a brat to teach Frank how you like being handled.

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Warnings: Smut. Degradation. Oral. Toxic relationships. Reader is mean. Weed smoking.

A/N: For all the brats who know that being a sub is a position of power.

As you reach across your bed to your nightstand, searching for your post-sex-spliff, a realization settles on your sweat damp skin.

You have to teach Frank Castle how you like being fucked.

The first time, right now, it's... pleasant. You don't want pleasant. If you wanted pleasant, you wouldn't have taken the time out of your busy schedule to seduce the fucking Punisher.

“Hi."

"Nice to meet ya.”

That’s what it’s like. Frank takes you out to eat despite you not wanting a “date” walks you back to your place and gives you some standard , mundane bullshit. Eats you out, doggy then missionary, kisses you all throughout, respectfully comes in his condom. To be fair, any normal woman would’ve been limp-legged from his performance, but you’re not the normal woman are you? It feels good, you come, multiple times as a matter-of-fact, but where’s the fire? The passion?

“I’m not your wife, Frank,” you spit. You hope it hurts him. He's built for it – his scar clad body all but proclaims that. Men after sex are vulnerable, nows the time to slip the knife between bone. “Don’t fuck me like her.”

Even he, a trained killer, can't hide the shock in those black eyes of his. It's shock and a glint of something else. You can't put a name on it and assume that it's anger. Good. He can take it out on you if he wants.

Only a small percentage of light from outside your window enters your room. It paints Frank hideously. Hard lines. Jagged nose. A small scrape cutting across his cheek. You can see the monster that terrorizes Hell’s Kitchen. You understand why so many are afraid of him.

He reaches for the lamp next to him. When his turns it on, the monster remains. “The fuck you just say to me?"

The joint magically appears after rummaging through your junky desk. Right there beneath all the ripped out magazine pics you hoard for inspiration. Indica after dick was a tried-and-true ritual regardless if the dick was bomb or not. Now all you needed was a light-

He smacks the preroll from your hand, you sigh. The spliff rolls somewhere in your junky room – forever lost amongst clothes and art supplies. You’d never see it again. Not unless you plan on cleaning which you didn't.

"Dude,” you say, “The fuck?”

“Why would you say that shit to me?”

“Because it's the truth. You're the punisher, I wanted to be punished,” you say. It's a flat tone. Deadpan. It's also a test, if Frank couldn't handle your nasty attitude, toxic and all, he didn't deserve you. And you would've been wrong about your prejudgement of him. Something tells you, he can handle you, he's just holding back. “Feels like I slept with Mr. Rogers and now I'm out of weed. I deserve a refund.”

You expect him to be angry over bringing up his dead wife and surprisingly, he's not. If his next barb back to your is any indicator, he's pissed about something else. His bare shoulders hunch and he’s quiet. Mute. Like he’s trying to put together a puzzle not knowing that you’d stolen some of its pieces.

“You weren’t talking all that shit when I was making you come.”

There it is. The criticism of his sex game irks him.

Aww, you hurt his precious male ego.

“So? That’s what a dick is supposed to do. You did your job. You want kudos because you did the goddamn bare minimum?”

“The bare minimum had you calling me daddy.”

“To be fair, I thought that moaning Mr. Roger would've been inappropriate,” you chuckle. “Dude, don't be so sensitive. Man the fuck up, marine.”

It's mean. Who cares. You're without weed now so he has to feel your wrath. It's not a surprise that Frank leaves after that. He grabs his clothes, puts them on in silence, and slams the door shut behind him.

Whatever.

You suck him off next to one of your graffiti paintings of him.

Did he really think he wouldn’t sleep with you again? Did he really believe he had that much restraint? You had him figured out before he could get the one-up on you.

He’s on punishment. After that last fuck session he’s not allowed to touch your pussy let alone fuck you. But goddammit if you weren’t going to swallow every inch of him.

Head bobbing along his dick, you take your hands and grab his own. You place them behind your head. It gives him the go ahead to control the pace. Let’s him fuck your mouth just how he wants.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, pushing your head further than he ever anticipates it going. If anyone catches you both on the rooftop of this random building, they were in for one helluva sight.

He looks down, watching as you go to town on him. It’s a work of art. A trained skill that he doesn’t want to know how you got so talented at. It’s wet. More spit than he’s used to. It coats him shaft to ass crack in smathers of sloppiness and drips into his pants that pool around his ankles.

“You got a mouth on you, girl, I’ll tell you that.“

Your throat convulses around him and you make a strangled noise. He immediately lets go of you, but that’s when he feels it. The slight pinch of your teeth along him. It’s not enough to hurt, but it’s enough to wake him the fuck up.

"Alright,” he says. “Alright. I hear ya.”

You choke on him and it’s an odd thing for him to get used to. But get used to it he will.

His head hits the back of the wall behind him when he sinks into the rhythm of your mouth. A rhythm that he commands you to follow. You know what’s to next. Can feel it as his hands tighten in your hair and his breathing deepens to hard grunts.

You moan around him, that sweet fucking mouth of yours vibrating against him tip to base and he loses it.

“Goddamn,” he grunts and you taste him in the back of your throat. He fills up your mouth pretty damn quick. You can’t contain all of it.

“Fucking fuck.”

He’s not a very poetic man.

You’re teary eyed and pouty lipped when you finish Tiny trickles of his come and your spit drip along your chin.

His eyes stare directly into yours. They’re lust filled. Hazy with it. Just a hunch, but you bet he probably can't see straight right now. You did your job and you did it well. Because of it, you own his ass. He didn’t even fucking know it yet.

You gather the remains of his juices on your fingers and make sure none of him is lost.

“Thank you, sir,” you’re panting. He’s fucked the wind out of your lungs and you’re proud of your work. As proud of it as you were the mural you painted that sits behind him like a halo. “May I get off my knees, please?”

Jesus Christ. He’s never been at the receiving end of this kind of shit. He and Maria had a good sex life, but it was not this. Never this.

“Sir?"

Your voice bring him back into his body.

"Yeah,” he says and you stand. You were kind enough to pull his pants up along the way. Beneath your dress, there’s harsh bruises on your knees from where cruel asphalt dug. Shit, he didn’t mean to hurt you. “You alrig-”

“Did I do a good job?” you ask. Your voice is gentle, but he knows. He’s not that daft. You don’t want kindness.

“Yeah, you did good. Real good.”

“I should’ve waited for you to tell me to swallow, but I couldn’t help myself.”

This was a test.

He wipes at the fucked-out tears on your cheeks. The next bit makes you smirk. “Don’t let it happen again.”

He kisses the top of your head and you guys get pastrami sandwiches after this. You talk about life as an art teacher. He tells you a few stories of his life in the Marines. You both realize how weird each other is.

He sleeps on just a mattress. No bedframe, nothing. Just a mattress soaked in y'alls combined sweat. It’s like fucking on concrete. It makes it nasty - makes it primal.

You’re face down, ass up, a tried and true position. But the way Frank is handling you has you biting sheets. You never bite sheets. What in the fuck.

He’s earned his way back into your pretty pussy after careful training.

You’re in his apartment this time. It used to be as cold as a prison cell. Now it’s a cold prison cell, but with little shit of yours in it. A sketchpad. You have a towel. He fucking has tampons beneath his sink. Even keeps your favorite frozen pizza in his freezer.

Neither of you mention what this thing has become. No waaaay.

It’s stupid for him to be involved with you: a stoner who idolizes him in graffiti across the city.

And you’re fucking a mass murderer.

It’s recipe for disaster. The bomb is going to detonate one of these days.

But he’s dicking you down so good now. You couldn’t let him go and let the next bitch prosper.

“Get it, girl,” he grunts, slapping your ass. He does it again without giving you time to settle into the sting. “Get it.”

“You liking the view?"

"Did I say you could talk?” Your bratiness is rewarded with another hand to your ass. It’s much harder than the other two. You cry out, but you don’t tell him to stop. If you did, this whole operation would be shut. the fuck. down. “Shut up and take it.”

You toss your ass back on him and he meets you with forceful thrusts. There’s nowhere to run, no softness in how he handles you.

You give in.

“There you go, atta girl. Come on it.” He pushes you down by your spine, furthering your arch. That’s when he starts to give it to you nice and slow. He presses deep into a part of you that makes your eyes roll. “You take every inch of me so well and it’s all for you. Now come on it.”

He’s a fast learner.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle x you #the punisher #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader

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revscarecrow · 10 months ago

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What faction would the Homestuck kids play as in 40k?

I got you. Most of the purple or blue bloods would probably play Tau because their caste system is familiar enough. Karkat would want to play a more complex army but not be able to get good so would probably would just stick to blood angels with no thoughts head empty full rhino rush first turn charging etc. The most grand strategy he could pull off would be making sure he got in range. Primary objectives are for idiots. Tavros would play ultramarines because they are neat. Vriska would play Eldar not because of the aesthic (warp spiders work I guess) but she's smart enough to know that they play very tricksy. She would be very cheaty with her abilities. With her abilities the Fate Dice mechanic would be very broken (you preroll dice the beginning of the game that you can use later instead of rolling) Dave wouldn't thin his paints because it's funny to have shitty looking models on purpose. All eggberts would play Imperial guard either because of the cool Starship Troopers vibes or because shoot gun jolly ho and all that. Jane (not sure if people treat homestuck 2 as canon and I haven't read it but I think this is the same nerd) might collect a lot of Tau fan art. If you are curious what I mean try googling "Warhammer Tau Fan Art" with safe search off.

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ongreenergrasses · 6 months ago

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tagged by @shatterthefragments, thank you 💖

tagging @mendingbone @solar-halos @vampirehizzies @spacegirlsgang @paris-roubaix @constantlyfalling and anyone else who sees this and would like to 💜 as always, no pressure

#tags of earthly delights #shatterthefragments #the prerolls are probably not worth stealing it has to be said

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gorgynei · 4 months ago

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there is a lot of art in this preroll that ive never seen before hello

#lb

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menacinmasochist · 2 years ago

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Diabolik lovers AU where they’re human and normal teens:

Shu: a stoner, he’s so severe depressed he doesn’t know how to roll so he prefers bong hits, Edibles and prerolls. Super antisocial and always listening to music usually RnB old school 90s rap and some old bands as well, he’s that one guy that shows up like 5 times the whole school year. Would have long messy hair cause he wouldn’t cut it. Definitely only wears sweats, hoodies and slides.

Reiji: would be such a try hard overachiever, but acts like he’s all calm and composed. Is doing great in all of his classes because he’s trying to graduate earlier to go to Medical school. A goodie goodie, and lowkey a teachers pet, will purposely sabotage someone if they’re doing better than him. Reminds the teachers to give homework, tells the whole class to stfu when the teacher is talking. He likes to iron all his shirts for school, usually wear button downs, dress pants and dress shoes, hair slick back, he isn’t a big fan of loud sounds so doesn’t like music.

Ayato: Very popular and for all the wrong reasons, he enjoys bullying teachers and often gets in trouble, if he wasn’t such a troublemaker he would’ve been on the basketball team, physical education is the only class he’s doing good in. He likes to smoke weed sometimes with Shu, but he can’t stand the indica strain Shu usually smokes, and Ayato can not hangggg he’ll fall asleep after 4 hits, he knows how to roll too but his favorite drug surprisingly is percs, he likes the boost it gives him but he doesn’t understand how badly he treats other people when he’s off the percs, he likes to dress like a hype beast, expensive clothes and trendy things.

Kanato: that weird kid that literally brings his childhood toy to school and talks to himself, he hissed at people in the hallways and everyone thinks he’s a bit queer, he might be but surprisingly a lot of emo girls have a crush on him and he gets a lot of ACTION. He’s doing great in arts and literature but sucks at sciences and math, will literally scream at the teachers so they have no choice but to pass cause if not he will get them fired somehow, he also dyes his hair every few months and wears eyeliner, listens to screamo rock and wears a lot of band tees and plaid.

Laito: slept with every girl at school, somehow he’s good at convincing them to do so, never dated tho he lacks the emotional commitment, flirts with the teachers and lunch ladies, his signature in every class photo is a wink, he’s a day drinker and drinks at school, sneaking vodka into a water bottle, kanato hisses at him in the hallways, he also wreaks of Dior perfume and wears a lot of brand named luxury clothing, takes him 40 minutes just do to his hair only for him to put on his Gucci fedora, sometimes he’ll smoke a Cuban cigar, he’s doing bad in all his classes but has a girl in each class doing his schoolwork and homework.

Subaru: gives super black cat lone wolf energy but he’s really good at school, all his classes he’s doing really well, he argues with teachers when he thinks the lesson is stupid, enjoys debating but won’t join that club or any club. He sometimes smokes weed with Shu, when Ayato isn’t there since he finds him annoying, rescued a cat once and took care of it and still does, some girls have a crush on him but he’s oblivious to that.

#diabolik lovers

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rocketpunchriot · 2 years ago

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I finished all six Pixel Remasters after... I think just under a year of streaming on Twitch?

But now it's time to start playing FF7Remake, so it's time to officially brand my timeslot with new preroll art.

#rocketpunchriot #Aulse #Origin Body #A-017 #Machine Seventeen #Twitch streaming #Artists on tumblr

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hummingbirdpr · 2 months ago

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Mastering Cannabis Preroll Production: Tips, Tools, and Tech for High-Quality Results

As the cannabis industry continues to grow, the demand for high-quality, consistent, and efficient Cannabis Preroll Production is at an all-time high. Pre-rolls have become one of the most popular products on dispensary shelves thanks to their convenience, portability, and ready-to-smoke appeal. However, behind every great preroll is a meticulous process that involves the right tools, technology, and know-how.

In this article, we’ll dive into the essentials of cannabis preroll production—from selecting the right flower to using modern automation tools that streamline your operation and improve quality. Whether you're a startup or scaling up, these tips will help you master the art and science of preroll manufacturing.

Why Cannabis Prerolls Are in High Demand

Cannabis prerolls offer an easy entry point for new consumers and a time-saving product for experienced users. With growing competition in the legal cannabis market, producers need to ensure their prerolls stand out in quality, consistency, and branding. That means mastering every step of the cannabis preroll production process is essential to long-term success.

Step 1: Choose the Right Flower

The foundation of a great preroll is, of course, the cannabis itself. Whether you're using whole flower, smalls, or trim, consistency is key. Consider the following when selecting flower for preroll production:

Moisture content: Ideal moisture levels range from 9% to 12%. Too dry and the preroll will burn harshly; too moist and it won’t burn properly.

Grind consistency: A uniform grind ensures an even burn and consistent draw.

Potency and strain selection: Market demands vary, so choosing the right strains for your target customers can significantly impact sales.

Freshness: Older material can degrade in quality, affecting flavor and cannabinoid content.

Step 2: Grinding and Sifting

Proper grinding is critical to preroll quality. A fine, even grind ensures smooth burning and proper airflow. Industrial cannabis grinders are available to handle high volumes without degrading the trichomes. Some production teams also use sifters to remove stems and other unwanted materials that can compromise the preroll’s structure and smoking experience.

Step 3: Weighing and Portioning

Accuracy in portioning is vital to maintaining consistency across your preroll line. Customers expect uniformity, and dispensaries demand compliance with weight regulations. Manual weighing is possible for small batches, but for commercial cannabis preroll production, automated weighing systems save time and reduce product loss.

Manual vs. automated weighing: Automated weighers are more accurate and efficient for large-scale operations.

Dosing accuracy: Machines can dispense cannabis with precision up to 0.01g, ensuring compliance and product integrity.

Step 4: Cone Filling and Rolling

One of the most labor-intensive steps in cannabis preroll production is cone filling. Thankfully, a variety of tools and machines now exist to automate and enhance this process.

Manual Cone Fillers

Manual cone filling trays are ideal for small-scale producers. They typically hold between 20 to 100 cones at a time and allow operators to pack them by hand.

Semi-Automatic Fillers

These machines allow for faster filling and tamping than manual options. Operators place cones in the tray, and the machine vibrates the material into place.

Fully Automated Cone Filling Machines

For large-scale cannabis preroll production, fully automated machines are a game changer. These systems fill, tamp, twist, and even weigh prerolls with minimal human intervention.

Benefits of automated preroll machines:

Increased production speed

Consistent fill density

Reduced labor costs

Higher product consistency

Step 5: Tamping, Twisting, and Finishing

Once cones are filled, the tops need to be tamped and twisted or folded. This step ensures the product is ready for immediate use and meets presentation standards.

Automation in Finishing

Advanced preroll machines can handle twisting, tamping, and even folding automatically. Some systems also offer inline weight checks, removing any prerolls that fall outside of acceptable weight ranges.

Quality Control

Every batch of prerolls should go through a quality control process, including:

Visual inspection for tears, loose packs, or gaps

Weight checks for compliance

Burn testing to ensure a smooth draw

Step 6: Packaging and Labeling

The final step in the preroll production process is packaging. Pre-rolls can be packed individually, in multipacks, or in tubes. Your packaging must protect the product while also providing child-resistance and compliance with local laws.

Key packaging considerations:

Child-resistant and tamper-evident closures

Air-tight seals to maintain freshness

Custom branding to stand out on the shelf

Compliance with labeling requirements (e.g., THC content, health warnings)

Automated preroll packaging machines can significantly reduce the time and labor required to finish this final stage, making them an excellent investment for growing operations.

Leveraging Technology in Cannabis Preroll Production

The cannabis industry is rapidly evolving, and so is the technology supporting it. Automation, data tracking, and AI-driven production systems are becoming increasingly common in advanced facilities.

Examples of Modern Tech:

Automated joint rollers that reduce human error

Cone filling machines with integrated weighing systems

Pre-roll inspection software that uses computer vision to detect defects

Cloud-based inventory management that links production data with sales forecasts

Integrating the right technology into your cannabis preroll production process doesn’t just improve efficiency—it can also elevate the quality and reliability of your products.

Final Tips for Success in Cannabis Preroll Production

Standardize your workflow – Create SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures) for each step to ensure consistency and compliance.

Invest in training – Skilled operators are critical, especially when using advanced equipment.

Focus on quality over quantity – High-quality prerolls build brand loyalty and customer trust.

Stay compliant – Regulations can change quickly. Stay updated on local and federal packaging, labeling, and testing requirements.

Scale smart – Start with the tools that fit your volume and scale as demand grows. Automation can be phased in step by step.

Conclusion

Cannabis Preroll Production is both an art and a science. To stand out in today’s competitive cannabis market, you need to combine quality flower with precision equipment, skilled labor, and efficient workflows. From grinding and weighing to cone filling and packaging, each step plays a vital role in the final product’s quality and customer appeal.

By embracing modern tools and production strategies, you’ll be well on your way to producing consistent, high-quality prerolls that keep customers coming back for more.

#Cannabis Preroll Production

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squaredtechco · 3 months ago

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Spotify said “ads can be… art?” and unleashed AI-powered madness

Let’s be real—ads are usually the worst part of streaming. But Spotify’s latest move might actually (???) make them… interesting? Or at least less unbearable. Here’s the tea:

☕ AI is writing ads now – Spotify’s using AI to generate scripts and voiceovers, so your mid-playlist interruption might sound like it was made by a robot with taste. ☕ Ad auctions in real time – Brands can now bid live to shove their products into your ears (thanks, Spotify Ad Exchange). Capitalism never sleeps! ☕ Google & Yahoo are in – Because of course big tech wants a piece of this AI ad dystopia. ☕ Gen Z, you’re being hunted – Spotify’s hyper-personalizing ads to make sure you feel seen (or at least sold to in a way that doesn’t feel like a 2010 YouTube preroll).

Vibe check: Is this the future of ads being less annoying, or just a new way to make them more invasive?

#spotify #ai ads #digital marketing #gen z #tech dystopia #streaming wars

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jaimecarrillo · 4 months ago

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Breakout Rapper mynameisntjmack Is Still Chasing It

"Me and all my friends always say, 'We're not shit yet,' we still have much more to do, much more to work towards."

The east coast/west coast paradigm in rap has been more or less shattered in the age of Spotify. At the moment, Virginia is a hot spot of new talent including yvngxchris, Tommy Richman, and of course, mynameisntjmack. Jmack’s 2023 breakout EP “BOOKMARK” has more than 100 million streams, cementing his name as one of the most inventive rappers going.

His latest single “chase” features fellow Virginia rapper and close personal friend Tommy Richman, and is one of his most introspective songs yet.

“Me and all my friends always say, ‘We’re not shit yet,'” Jmack told PLAYBOY. “We still have much more to do, much more to work towards.” Humility and self-reflection seem to be Jmack’s secret to continued success, especially when it comes to his current approach to writing new music.

Currently, Jmack is setting the stage for a followup to his 2023 hit with 2025’s “BOOKMARK 2,” not to mention a massive European tour. He sat down with us to discuss his new single, his forthcoming album, and his new approach to music production.

PLAYBOY: You’ve said “chase” started as a fleeting thought in a bank lobby—what was that moment, and how did it evolve into a full song?

Jmack: I was working as a barista in Beverly Hills at the time. And I had to leave my shift to go set up an LLC for the business that we’re trying to run for the music. I had to go into the Beverly Hills Chase branch. I was really broke at the time, sweaty, just fresh off of work. And I just started writing the song in there, because the teller who was helping me was coming off a smoke break. It was very in the moment.

PLAYBOY: You and Tommy Richman have a history of collaborating—what makes your creative chemistry work so well?

Jmack: Probably because of the fact that we’re close, close friends. He’s my brother, for real. I definitely spend more time just hanging out and talking with him than I do making music. That’s what makes the music, we when finally choose to do it so special. It feels like there’s a lot of life lived behind it.

PLAYBOY: When you guys aren’t recording, how do you guys most enjoy chilling?

Jmack: We play the EA Sports UFC 5 video game. We’re both big UFC fans, that’s how we met. We followed each other over Instagram over music, but I saw that he was into UFC and mixed martial arts in general. The first time we hung out was just to play the video game and watch a UFC card. But we listen to music, watch a bunch of random documentaries, things like that.

PLAYBOY: Seeing “BUNKER/PREROLL” resurge years after its release must’ve been a surreal moment. Did that change the way you look at past records?

Jmack: No, but it definitely changed my view of the scope of music and the music industry. I feel like as an artist coming up in the generation I came up in, celebrity and artistry are intertwined. All of the rappers back in the day, they had like one or two songs, and they were able to drop an album and live that life, you know what I mean?

But now, looking back on records that I put out, recognizing that it’s a blessing, because people are able to look at the wide array of my music. The internet allows them to do that. “BUNKER/PREROLL” reaching that resurgence is really a justification for the work we put in, not necessarily looking for another viral moment. Understanding that people can go back and find older stuff at any moment, and that really is a blessing.

PLAYBOY: “BOOKMARK 2” feels like a continuation of your story. How does it differ from your debut album, “mynameisnt?”

Jmack: “BOOKMARK 2,” and really the Bookmark series as a whole…it’s meant to be more of like a stopping point, like, “What do you do when you reach a bookmark?” Do you go back to the chapter you just read and reflect, or do you push forward into the next one? That’s what these projects are for me, they’re stopping points for me to reflect on what I’ve just been through. They’re a bit more personal.

PLAYBOY: You describe ‘mynameisnt’ as a nameless/faceless character now placed in the middle of LA. How does that character reflect your own experience adjusting to success and a new environment?

Jmack: I wouldn’t say my experience differs that much more from the typical person that moves out to a larger city, who’s trying to make it. That’s kinda what inspired the project, people who don’t necessarily feel like they have a place in things. But I relate to it heavily, and that’s a large part of my creative journey, not necessarily knowing where I fit into things.

PLAYBOY: You’ve been recognized as a storyteller—how has your storytelling evolved from your earlier work to now?

Jmack: Mainly, just becoming more and more vulnerable. I’ve realized that that’s not only a solace to me, but the key to making better songs, you know? The more life that you live, and the more you’re willing to talk about it, I feel the better the music becomes. And then just doing the thing. Leaving Virginia, where I was comfortable, allowed me to push myself into making music everyday.

I no longer had the luxury of living in my parents’ house, smoking weed everyday, and just not pursuing it in the same way. Consistency and vulnerability made for much better songs.

PLAYBOY: What can listeners expect from your upcoming mixtape, “BOOKMARK 2?”

Jmack: Like I said, increased vulnerability, and its much more recent. The “mynameisnt” project was two years worth of music compiled together. And this is probably the past six to seven months of me really putting stuff together. And then I would say better musicality. There are no samples on the project. We played live, had to camp out in Mountain Center, California where we brought in a bunch of live musicians to really tie it all together.

PLAYBOY: You’re currently on the road touring North America and soon Europe with Tommy. What excites you most about touring internationally? Any cities you’re especially hyped to perform in?

Jmack: I mean, I’ve never left the country. So I’m excited to go out and explore Europe. But I think the thing that most excites me is just experiencing—what I’ve heard as a fan of music all my life—that European audiences have a different affinity for music because they don’t have acts come out as often. I’m also looking forward to connecting with people.

We’re doing something special, between Tommy, myself, my brothers Paco, Jonah Roy, and Max Vossberg. It’s beautiful to see, if you can catch a show, I highly recommend it, it’s the best show out there.

Originally published on Playboy.com

Photos courtesy Ian Anthony/Giulio Rose Giannini

#interview

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sapphos-corner · 8 months ago

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As the seasons pass ch. 5: Mid October

"The weather is perfect for this, I'm so excited" I lay out the blanket and start plucking the tupperwares and ziplocs from the basket

"Same its gonna be so cool. Speaking of the weather, kind of, what are you doing for halloween?"

"Hanging out with you? I hope?"

"Awesome, that was also my plan. What do you wanna do?" She fiddles with the altoids tin and picks out the preroll. Like always, her dimples appear as she lights it and i feel a little jump in my chest. Odd.

Inhale. pass. "I don't really know. Is Bridgette having a party or anything? Do you wanna dress up and go out? Or stay in and watch movies or something?"

Inhale. "Oo a movie night sounds cool." exhale. pass. "We should make a list of movies to watch or something?"

"Yes for sure!" Inhale. Pass. Exhale.

We nod and i pick up one of the tupperwares. There are two with spaghetti, then a ziploc of garlic bread and another tupperware with grapes. She reaches for the other spaghetti.

I can't help but nod in approval as I take my first bite. Spaghetti is always good, but I think Val's is the best I've ever had. She never fails to impress me with her food, no matter how simple.

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After inhaling the spaghetti, I dig my sketchbook and pencil case out of my tote. Val pulls her book out of the first pocket of her backpack.

She lays on her back and rests her head on my thigh. She looks up at me with pink, dimpled cheeks.

"This okay?"

"Yeah, of course." Almost as if I've done it a hundred times before, i push her hair back with my hand, catching and twirling a strand between my fingers. My eyes dart back to my sketchbook and i try to focus on an idea.

After awhile Val closes her book and lays it beside her. She closes her eyes and relaxes her face.

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

The sun is starting to set so I put my hand on Val's shoulder. Her face is bathing in the sun's orange light and she looks so comfortable I feel bad for having to wake her up.

She looks angelic, so peaceful yet radiant. I brush my fingers lightly from her temple to behind her ear. "Val, Val, it's gonna get dark soon, we have to head back."

Her face scrunches a little before her eyes open. When our pupils meet, she grows a massive smile and lifts her head up closer to mine. In a way that could best be described as impulsive, I lean towards her face. Her eyebrows furrow and she chuckles a bit. Dodging me, she pulls herself up. She puts her book back in her bag. I feel my lips purse as I look forward. It feels like I've committed a crime.

"Was that weird, I'm sorry."

"What?" Her eyebrows are raised

"What?"

"Was what weird?"

"I don't know, nothing, I don't know. Ignore me." I scramble to put my art supplies back in my bag and shoot up from my seated position. She folds the blanket and hugs it towards her. We start back on the trail to my place.

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I think I'm falling in love with her. It feels weird to acknowledge, but the feeling is beginning to leak into my behavior, the thoughts are becoming routine. I'm watching her scroll through her letterboxd on the corner of my bed. All I can seem to think about is kissing her one exposed dimple. Reaching for her hand so that I can massage her knuckles with my thumb.

"Ooooo, you like scream, right? We should add scream to the list."

"Scream for sure, how do you feel about house of 1000 corpses?"

"I've never seen it!! definitely add it!"

#friends to lovers #lesbian #slow burn #sapphic fiction

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