#smile for me anniversary collab | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simplyhale · 21 days ago

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bed chem t.b. (18+)

tim bradford x fem! reader

summary; the anniversary of tim's divorce didn't have him in the happiest of moods, that was until he laid his eyes on you across the bar. who knew the two of you could have great bed chem?

notes; dividers are by @uzmacchiato l this is an amazing collab that i was able to do with the lovely @sleepymissy ! she had gotten a few asks about doing tim one-shots inspired by sabrina's short and sweet album and asked if i wanted to collab on one where i wrote the fluff and she did the smut. thus is how bed chem happened ! it has been an absolute blast and it turned out pretty cute if i don't say so myself. missy kept the smutt very normal and sweet so no crazy warnings besides the normal, wrap it before you tap it, divorce grump! tim, swearing, flirting, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, cowgirl, missionary and who knows if yall really enjoy this then we might do another?

words; 4771

“who’s the cute guy with the wide blue eyes and the big bad mm?”

— 𝜗𝜚 * ｡⋆ ˖.

Tim Bradford isn’t an easy man to cheer up.

Most know by now just to not bother him, allowing Tim to take it into his own hands with how he’s always done it; getting over it by not caring about it, or pushing it to the deepest part of himself possible.

And in almost every case, it was the latter.

But now, there is currently a third option that is making its way to him.

Lately, Lucy and Angela had been noticing Tim’s extra grumpiness, and after much going back and forth - and the fact that Nyla had searched it up - they came to the conclusion that it was the year anniversary of his divorce getting finalized.

So, the two rounded up anyone they could and decided that what Tim needed was a night out at the bar.

Lucy is starting to worry that this actually is a bad idea.

Maybe he isn’t ready yet, maybe he doesn’t like all the new attention either- Tim never truly likes a lot of attention on him, but damn, he’s especially quiet tonight.

“Do you think he hates this?”

Bailey, Angela, and Nyla heads turn to where Lucy’s big worried eyes are looking- a small seat away is Tim nursing a mid-strength beer in front of him, people-watching, of course.

“He seems like his normal self,” Angela waves her hand as she takes a sip of her drink.

“He’s been on the same beer for the past thirty minutes.” Lucy tries to clarify, only to huff when Nyla just shrugs her shoulders, clearly not thinking too much into it.

Bailey places her hand onto Lucy's shoulder, “If you’re worried about him then go ask him. If he wants to leave then let him. Don’t overthink it.” She explains, a reassuring smile planted on her face before she goes over to where both John and Wesley are throwing darts.

Picking up her drink, Lucy takes a long sip out of it, trying to buy enough time to fully work herself up before poking the bear.

“Hey Tim!” She slides into the empty seat next to him, not even getting a glance. “Look, if you aren’t having a good time you can leave. I- well, me and Angela…no, I roped her into this.” She shakes her head. “What I mean is we all know what today is, and just thought that maybe you would want a night out…” She draws out her last word at the realization that he isn’t paying any type of attention. Her words quite literally are going through one ear and out the other.

Following where he is currently staring is a duo on the other side of the bar, glancing back at him to see that he’s mindlessly tapping the bartop—keeping his eyes steady on you.

She knows it’s you because when you take down your hair, slipping the black hair tie around your wrist, he stops tapping the bar and hitches his breath—almost as if he’s putting all his concentration onto you and you alone.

“Or…is it because you want to leave the bar with the hottie in the sheer dress?”

“What?” His head practically snaps towards her at the mere mention of you, the tips of his ear starting to redden.

Lucy presses her lips together, trying and failing at hiding her smile, excited to see she was wrong and he is actually moving on. “Why don’t you go and talk to her? Maybe give her your number and see what happens?”

Tim thinks about her words, looking back over to where you’re now laughing at something your friend had told you, now secretly hoping that it’s him making you laugh just to see you smile like that again; the type that reaches the corner of your eyes.

But…maybe he doesn’t deserve to hear your laugh, to be the reason for your wide smile. Maybe he actually isn’t supposed to move on now. He could now go at least a few months without thinking about his failed attempt at a marriage, but with that crash and burn of a relationship what’s to say that his next one wouldn’t end up the same way?

The only question is…how long would it take before it would happen?

He couldn’t do that to you- bring you into a cluster fuck you never even knew had happened to begin with.

“I’m gonna give her your number!” This sentence, plus the sight of Lucy hopping off the stool and strolling towards you, nearly sends Tim into cardiac arrest.

“Don’t you da—”

Though it’s too late, because Lucy is long gone, and she watches your friend lean in towards you before walking off in the direction of the bathrooms.

Now’s her moment to play matchmaker.

Smiling sweetly as she takes your friend's place, earning back from you as you tilt your head curiously towards her. “Uhm, hi! My friend over there was too nervous to actually come up and talk to you. So here I am!”

You slowly turn your gaze to a very flushed Tim, who is giving a panic death glare mix towards Lucy. But, once he realises your eyes have landed on him, he smiles like an idiot, giving a small nod.

He quickly knits his brows together, why did he do that?

You chuckle lightly, quickly scrunching up your nose before turning your attention back to Lucy who is, once again, failing at hiding her excitement. “And I take it that you want me to write down my number?”

She nods her head, shifting her weight onto her other leg, “Yes — if you’re okay with that. I can promise you that he isn’t a creep. He's more like a…big softie.”

You laugh at her words, staring at her for a moment.

You can’t explain why you know to trust her, but you feel deep in your bones that she’s right. No red flag is being shown to you at this moment.

Besides, if anything bad were to happen, you’ll just block him and be done with it.

Reaching over the bar, you take one of the white paper napkins along with a discarded pen, writing your name down followed by your number.

Once you finish the small love heart written next to the last digit, you hand it to Lucy and watch as she practically skips back towards Tim's direction.

Dropping the pen back behind the bar, you fiddle with your neck lace, awaiting for your friend to come back.

That’s when your phone buzzes, face down on the counter top.

You halt, somewhat hoping it’s the guy that you’ve just given your number to.

Only, you’re met with disappointment when you realise it’s your friend.

BESTIE <3

hey girl! so sorry to cut our night short but i’m gonna head home just got a bad wave of cramps :(

You respond to her, telling her to let you know when she made it home.

Wait, a minute-

Why are you so disappointed it isn’t the random man you haven’t even said a single word to?

Placing your phone back onto the counter face down - the photo of your cat shining through your clear case - you begin to reach for your glass, but your attention is brought back to your phone as it buzzes again.

And again-

-And again.

You nearly choke at what you think is your friend- is she okay?

However, you’re proven wrong.

UNKNOWN

Hey this is Tim, was wondering if I could buy you a drink? No pressure, just some casual penetration … CONVERSATION! Fuckk I meant conversation

Pressing your lips together, you smile at yourself before replying.

YOU

Auto correct really knows how to make a penetration interesting…

Looking over at him, you watch as his expression grows from furrowed brows (had he made the wrong impression?), to his face lighting up just as your response comes through. And his smile only grows with each word he reads of your message, laughing and shaking his head lightly.

In that moment you know you have your claws in him, and when he glances up at you just in time for you to send a wink his way, well, that’s all the motivation he needs to get out of his chair.

Watching him- Tim make his way from the opposite end of the bar all the way around to the spot next to you, you quickly down the last remaining sip in your glass as you rest your elbow on the counter. Using it to prop your face up.

“I have to say that was a great first impression!” You shout over the music.

He laughs with a small shake of his head, “Yeah, I only use those on the special ones.”

Raising your brows, you tilt your head, “Oh, so I’m special?”

His brows knitted before leaning in towards you, clearly not hearing what you had said. So you repeat yourself, which, in return, you receive the sound of his laughter again.

That laugh causes your stomach to flutter and your mind to race with thoughts that would make the devil blush.

Looking around, you notice that almost two bus loads of people have funneled into the bar. Along with their chattering and music, there isn’t any way for you two to have a proper conversation- you know, the respectful ‘let’s get to know each other!’ before you climb into his bed.

“Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?”

Tim nearly breaks his neck from how fast he nods at you, mumbling over different ‘yes’s’ and ‘yeah’s’.

Getting up and making sure to grab your phone before taking his hand into yours, you lead him through the crowded room. Walking outside, you two pass the smoking zone into a more secluded section where not a hint of being can be seen.

You rest against the wall, and Tim finds his place next to you.

“Your friend is nice.” You start, moving a piece of your hair away from your gloss-coated lips, “A little bold, but nice.”

Tim huffs a soft laugh before he scratches the back of his neck, “Ah, Lucy…yeah- look, she thought taking me out to his bar would help me feel better.”

“Was she right?” You tilt your head, angling on your side into the brick wall as you scan his face.

Tim does the same, taking a step close enough that his warmth breath mingles with yours. His eyes drop down to the concrete, thinking. And for a moment, you expect him to reply with a ‘yes’, but-

“I don’t know.” Tim starts low., “It’s been a year since my divorce and it’s been…weird getting back out there, I guess.”

You don’t say anything, and he must notice your overt silence because he quickly interferes.

“Not that I’m still in love with her! God, no-” He winces, waving his hand around, “Nothing like that. It’s not like I hate her either, I’m happy things are over be–”

“You haven't done anything with anyone since the divorce…have you?”

For a second he shuts his mouth, only for Tim to press his lips together before nodding in defeat. “How’d you know?”

You shrug, “You’ve got that look- like you’re still trying to figure life out again.” As if you’ve known the type of person he is, you quickly hold your hands up, “Before you get defensive at all, just know there’s no judgement from my end. You’re safe to talk to me.”

And Tim might just believe that.

He takes a moment, trying to pick the right words so as to not scare you off, even worse: say something that would turn you off.

“I guess I just engulf myself fully into work.” He sighs, “That way I don’t have to deal with…everything.”

“What do you do?”

There was the question he knew would follow up with.

“LAPD.” He doesn’t take his eyes off you, reading you with such an intensity.

It’s the type of answer that makes or breaks people but seeing as your brows raise with a sense of excitement…mischievous, Tim might just be safe.

“You know,” You start, unable to hide the smirk on your lips as you reach out and fondle with the hem of his shirt, “I’ve found that some secrets are better kept under lock and key.” Your voice is only a murmur, but looking up at him now, you can’t help but grin even wider as his skin - his stupidly beautiful skin - flushes.

Now he really trains on you, watching even the smallest of your movements- how you shift one foot from the other, even the hint of change to your breath. Even so he darts his focus down to your mouth as you lick your lips, then right back up to your wandering eyes.

So, you take another step up to him, getting a strong smell of his cologne, which might just knock you over with how strong it is- cedarwood, rosemary, musk.

Reaching out for his hand, you slowly drag your nails up from his knuckles to his wrist, all the way towards his bicep.

With your voice filled with lust, and lashes batting, you simply ask: “You wanna get out of here?”

— 𝜗𝜚 * ｡⋆ ˖.

By the time you’re halfway into the door, Tim’s already onto you.

Not that you’re complaining or anything, it is what you wanted after all.

With a hand grasping your waist, he’s pulling you into a kiss so soft yet so hungry- an emotion Tim’s been longing to feel since…forever. And maybe it’s the gloss still tinting your lips, or perhaps it’s the lingering champagne too, but God, you taste so sweet.

Without leaving the warmth of the kiss, Tim shuts the front door behind him, followed by the click of the door’s lock. Reluctantly, he pulls away, “A drink?” He asks into the midst of another selfish peck.

You shake your head, your breath still heavy against his as you meet his very own baby blues, “Tim,” You cock your head to the side, “Do I look like I want a drink?”

He takes a second to induce what you’ve said, his attention trailing from the heave of your chest, to your quick breaths, and your eyes- so needy, so true.

Fuck, the way you’re looking at him is everything he didn’t know he needed, and he’s obsessed.

“No,” He chokes, though a smile curves the edges of his mouth before he’s grasping one of your hands into his own, guiding you through the warmth of his home. “Ignore the mess, wasn’t expecting company of any sorts.” He murmurs, a shy blush showcasing on the high points of his cheekbones.

But ironically, it isn’t even messy. In fact, this may just be the cleanest house owned by a man could ever be. Sure, the odd dog toy finds its place on the floorboards, but with how homely you feel - especially when you see the light blue throw draped over his navy couch as you walk past it - you can’t help but smile.

“Please,” You turn to face him, and move your hand to wrap it around his bicep just as he begins to open his bedroom door. “Your home is beautiful. And plus, I’m focusing on…” You eye him up and down, just to really get your point across, "something else, y’know?”

“Oh?” And his voice is so fucking soft and endearing even as he raises his eyebrows when he glances at you before inviting you into his personal space. “You might have to spell it out for me, darling- got no clue what you’re talking about.”

Of course he fucking does, even when your palm gently pushes Tim down onto his own bed, followed by the gentle song of your laughter, “You! Tim, fuck’s sakes.” You shake your head, bending down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, "You’re nice to look at.”

And God damn, you aren’t wrong. Because by now, Tim’s widened his legs and he’s staring up at you with heavy eyes that are so inviting- and it would be incredibly rude to deny his offer.

Tim lets out a breathless chuckle as you take the leap when you hook one leg over his lap to sit on top of him and fuck, he’s comfortable.

“Could say the same about you- that sheer dress is doing numbers on me.” He mutters, low and gravelly before reaching his right hand up to slide a single digit beneath one of your dress’ straps.

The movement is tender- minimal, even, but oh, does it make you hitch your breath.

You peer down your body slowly, and a small smirk creeps up to your lips when you watch him do the same to the other neglected strap. Then, with a small grind onto the bulge Tim’s been fighting to keep sane for the last hour, you steer just a little closer to his face, “Take it off me?”

Tim wouldn’t have considered it a question, more like a demand than anything. But still, he lets out a shaky breath, “Fuck- yes, of course.”

And he doesn’t waste a second before he’s guiding you to lay on the plushness of his mattress.

Sure, his bed is soft- but damn, was Tim softer. However, any thoughts are easy to fade away when he leans over you as he begins gliding your straps down with a touch so soothing yet blazing, and with every inch of skin exposed to Tim’s sore eyes, a wet kiss welcomes it.

Tim makes sure to look after you before he begins to undress himself- with an extra hand of care from you as well when he gives you the honours of unbuttoning his pants. Though you can’t stop yourself from halting in the motion of his zipper when you peer up just in time for Tim to tug his Henley over his shirt.

“Holy shit,” You breathe out, already feeling the pool of arousal soaking your thighs at the sight of his muscles flexing beneath the bedroom’s dim lamp, warming his skin to golden from where it stands in the corner. “Fuckin’ hell, Tim- you’re one handsome man.”

Fuck.

Something about you complimenting Tim with only a string of curse words is enough to make his neck redden.

He doesn’t remember the last time he was admired like this.

Of course, he knows he’s an attractive man; he’s worked his ass off to earn his toned physique and it’s evident in the stares and hushes of comments he’s received since the duration of being an officer.

But that genuine flush of adoration in your face is worth more than anything, and Tim knows from then on that you deserve the absolute world.

“Got nothin’ on you,” He gravelly replies back, biceps tensing as he finishes undressing himself, “Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”

And now it’s your time to blush heavily. Though, when you drag your eyes down from his baby blues, what may just be more intimidating than Tim’s words is his cock straining in his boxers.

Jesus, it seems your manifestations that he was oversizedworked well- too fucking well.

With your mouth hanging low and wide eyes gawking, an ego-boosted Tim takes advantage of your silence by leaning close enough to your space that he’s hovering just over your silky-soft skin. And as he helps to wrap your legs around his lower back, the delightfulness of your perfume aromatises Tim’s senses- and he can’t help but inhale just an extra couple of seconds than normal to intoxicate himself in it.

When an act so intimate like sex comes into play, everyone has their own different niches. And if there’s something you’ve easily noticed by now with Tim Bradford, it’s that he’s a sweet talker. So when he mutters, “This okay, pretty girl?” as he begins to glide himself inside of you, you can’t but let out a shaky giggle in the midst of your breathlessness.

He pauses inside you, meeting your eyes, “What?”

“You just-” You squeeze his shoulders, partially out of reassurance and also to help soothe the stretch down below, “-you talk so sweet when you’re literally about to fuck me. It’s cute.”

“Cute?” Tim angles his head to the side, slowly pushing into you deeper until he bottoms out, his cock twitching in delight at the sound of your hiccup when his hips meet yours. “What’s wrong with that? Can’t imagine speakin’ to you any other way.”

Your heart flutters, “Didn’t say there was anything wrong with it.” And you sneak a kiss onto the corner of his lips just as you tighten your hold on his shoulders. Then, you whisper: “I like it.”

You may just be the death of Tim; your voice, your comforting eyes, your wide smile, your fucking smell, and now the warmth of your pussy as you engulf him when he finally starts to grind himself back into you.

“God damn, baby-” A small groan escapes Tim’s throat, perfectly in sync to the faint sound of your moan when he begins to set a rhythm- nothing rough or fast, just intimate and kind. Something worth taking his time with. Something he can really appreciate.

Both of your lips meet once again in the midst of the heated moment, though it’s less polite when you’re fighting against the friction of movement when Tim continues to slide himself inside your plush walls, along with the gasps that often leave your mouths when each thrust hits that perfect spot.

“Shit- Tim,” You mewl out when he leans down to your exposed neck, providing attention to it when he trails erratic kisses to your skin, never once missing a beat to his pace. “Are you…fuck- are you free next week?"

You can feel his laughter vibrating against your skin, followed by the actual deep, shaky noise itself when he lifts his head up to stare at you, “Y’wanna do this again with me?”

Oh, how his esteem has blossomed.

You grin cheekily, breaths and fragrances mixing together when you pull his face closer by the swift tug of your hand to the nape of his neck. “Why not? I’m sensing our-” You gasp when he fucks into you, “-camaraderie is great.”

Tim huffs amusingly, placing his forehead on yours- just in time to groan when he fucking feels your arousal coating him, and the sound of squelching from below, “Friends fuck each other, hey?”

“Well, we gotta start somewhere...” A particularly deep thrust has your breath hitching. You pull back, allowing yourself to look up at his heavy-lidded eyes before you blink.

“Will you let a friend ride you too?”

Tim would have come right then and there if it wasn’t for the American presidents he was listing in his head.

“God damn- be my guest, darling.” He groans loudly, pulling himself out from you before he’s turning the both of you around. And you don’t waste a second before you’re crawling on top of him, finding comfort once again on his lap.

Tucking your feet beneath his thighs, you begin to align yourself with the tip of his cock to your entrance, and Tim murmurs something about how ‘you’re gonna be the death of him’.

Then, as you engulf him inch by inch, your fingers press into his chest with brows furrowing in pure delight at the new angle.

Tim squeezes your thighs, “There you go,” He whispers, watching you in fucking awe, “just like that, sweetheart.”

You start slow, much like his pace before- intimate and kind. And as you fill yourself with his cock, his hands move from your thighs to your ass as he helps guide you up and down on him. All the while, he’s whispering praises to you while he cants his head forward to kiss each hardened nipple with his wet mouth.

“Doing so well for me,” He murmurs against your skin when he feels you clench around him, and keeps one hand sturdy on the curve of your ass when his dominant fingers brush back to the front of your body. Then, with a suck on his thumb to gather saliva, Tim lowers his wet finger on your neglected clit.

The following sounds of your pleasure is like music to his ears when his thumb moves in circular motions.

“Tim…” You draw his name out in an aching moan, and it only encourages him to flick your clit more just as you drive yourself harder onto him. “So, so good- shit.”

“You got it,” Tim then rises his hips up to meet yours, beginning a pace faster than yours that it causes your breath to catch, your hands grasping his shoulders tightly as he fucks himself up into you with such an intensity that you can’t even speak, can’t even breathe.

So instead, you lean down to kiss him, all teeth and tongue as you two moan to each hard thrust- and when Tim fastens his thumb to your clit, that’s when you feel it.

You pull back, voice shaky as you peer down at him, “Oh, I’m so close-” An admittance that Tim is so fucking delighted to hear from your pretty, ruby lips that still glisten with mixed saliva.

“I know, baby-” Tim huffs, muscles tensing with every glide of his cock that is pounded into you, “-I got you. Come with me, sweet girl.”

And he keeps his promise, because when the touch of his fingers on your aching clit mixes so perfectly to the gentle lowness of Tim’s voice, it’s enough to make you fall off the edge- and he falls with you.

Your name slips from his mouth just as a long moan escapes you, a hot fever washing through your head just when you feel the hot spill of his seed inside you.

“Fuck- that’s it, sweetheart.” He groans out, his cock twitching against the slow roll of your hips as you both ride out your orgasms.

Long exhales fill the warm air as you two finally finish and you can’t help yourself when you collapse onto his chest with a long sigh.

Amongst the heap of clothes scrambled across the carpet floor, and bedsheets ruffled, the both of you lay peacefully in the midst of it all- dripping in sweat and sex and you’re still inside of him.

But none of that matters, not when Tim is so grounding; with his chest broad and cozy, and his heart thumping in rhythm to yours as you both breathe in sync, it all feels too good to not let go.

“So,” You start once your breathing steadies, finally lifting Tim’s softened cock out of you as you sit back up- but Hell, you’re not ready to leave his lap just yet. Then, you lift Tim’s left hand and take it into your own, fiddling with his long fingers delicately. “You didn’t say no to next week…”

Tim blinks down at your fingers playing with his and back up to your eyes- heavy, exhausted. He gently smiles, his heart beating in a way that feels right…feels domestic, “No, I didn’t.”

Tim lifts his free hand up, brushing past your jawline until he meets the loose strands of your hair, and he gently tucks them behind your ear. His fingers halt by your face for a second, allowing his eyes to appreciate you before he slowly glides down to where the mess of your hair meets your shoulder, and he’s pushing the heap back to expose the curve of your neck.

He leans closer, pressing a lingering kiss to your collarbone, “I would love to see you again.” He admits quietly, stubble tickling your sensitive skin as he grazes his lips up to your jawline. He plants another kiss there, “And I don’t just mean seeing you for…this,” And finally, he moves to your chin where his lips linger on your face, only to reluctantly pull away so he can look up at you. “Let me take you on a date.”

You soften under his embrace, and a smile grows widely on you before you raise Tim’s hand your fingers had been playing with up to your mouth. There, you kiss his knuckles, and you faintly nod, “I think I’d like that a lot.”

And God, what a way to make a man feel better.

— 𝜗𝜚 * ｡⋆ ˖.

CHEN

sooo how did the date go? … helloooooo … oh OHH HEY TIM BE GETTING SOME ‼️‼️ 🤪😝🤩🥳 heh … good bed chem ?

#maddie speaks ✩‧₊˚#princess missy 🎀#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #the rookie #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford smut #i beat we'd have amazing bed chem #bed chem

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the-internets-girlfriend · 2 months ago

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Bittersweet Memories: Before the Frosting Sets

George Clarke x Reader (Series)

There was something sweet - until it all fell apart. Years later, a viral video stirs up a past neither of them ever quite let go of. In the city where they both changed, something is quietly rising again.

warnings: soft angst, emotional miscommunication, heartbreak, swearing, slow-burn

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

series | masterlist | next part

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Part One: Before the Frosting Sets (1200+ words)

I still remember the way George used to eat sprinkles straight from the jar.

We weren't one of those couples who posted anniversary posts or had a shared Spotify playlist - we kept it quiet, happy living in our blissful moments. It was slower. The kind of thing that grows between late night train rides and shared Tesco snacks, where love doesn't announce itself so much as it simply stays.

George was still figuring things out when we met. He filmed little skits on TikTok - low-effort but effortlessly funny. His face was stating to show up of people's for you pages. A couple thousands likes here and there - a "wait, aren't you that guy with the sound in the garage?" in a coffee shop once or twice.

He would brush it off with a laugh, but I could see it - the hope curling at the edges of his smile. Like maybe, just maybe, this thing he loved could actually become something.

And I wanted that for him. So badly.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

We met at a bus stop in Clapham, standing under one of those flickering streetlights. I was holding a cake box for my cousins 21st birthday. He asked if it was from that bakery around the corner. I told him no - I'd made it myself.

He looked impressed, "like, properly made it?"

I nodded my head, "from scratch, as well." I proudly showed off my cake, allowing for George to look through the clear top lid.

That had made him give me an amazed "well you must be a wizard then."

"Only during the school term."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

We didn't rush into anything. It started with the exchange of phone numbers, and casual messages - like stupid memes and late-night facetimes. Then it became weekends together. Then it became toothbrushes kept at each other's place. Then it just...was.

I would bake my cakes for friends and family while he filmed. When his laptop battery dies, he would crash on my sofa. I would glance up from icing cupcakes and find him watching me - not in the intense way but it was soft...thoughtful. Like, he was learning so much about me in that very moment.

"People would love watching this," he said once, phone in hand. "You piping those little waves and rose things, or you explaining nerdy baking stuff - it's great content."

I laughed at the idea, "baking isn't content, it's a way for me to think - a calm space.

He didn't ague. Just nodded and went back to filming himself for a TikTok video.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

His follower count began to rise. Nothing wild - but just enough to start getting messages from small brands wanting free promo in exchange for a product. He made jokes about "when I hit 10k" but I saw it - the way he checked his notifications a little more often, the way his sketches got sharper, more edited, more curated.

I supported it. Of course I did. He was chasing something, and I knew what that felt like.

But somewhere along the way, our rhythms started to clash.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

He started getting invited to small creator meetups - nothing big, just a group of content creators going to a pub night together and doing group collabs. I usually stayed behind. Not because I wasn't invited - nut because I didn't know how to fit in there. I kept to my quiet kitchens and the sound of my kitchen aid humming, not ring lights and clickbait thumbnails.

"You should come next time," he said one night, grabbing his coat. "They'd love you - especially when you talk about cake stuff. And they've been dying to meet you."

I smiled faintly, "maybe."

He didn't push it.

And that was part of the problem - we stopped pushing. We both stopped asking and started assuming.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

One night, I brought up the bakery idea. Not a big place, just a small shop with pale pink tiles and a coffee machine. I'd been daydreaming it for years - but this time was different, I had actually meant it.

George was editing something on his laptop - he didn't even look up.

"I mean... that's a cute idea," he said, his focus still on the screen as he typed away. "But rent is brutal right now, yeah? You'd probably do better selling stuff online. Build a brand first. Like... be a bakery girl on TikTok or something." He said with a shrug.

It wasn't mean. He wasn't trying to crush anything. He just didn't see it the way I did.

And something about the word cute stuck like icing sugar in my throat.

It hurt.

I didn't say much after that. Just nodded and went back to folding cupcake boxes, humming a tune to myself to mask the sadness.

He didn't notice I stopped letting him taste-test new recipes. Or that I didn't ask him to film with me when I tried making a time-lapse of me baking to show my grandma.

We were still... fine. Still cuddling up in bed, still trading jokes, still doing all normal things.

But something was... cooling.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The night we ended it - us. It wasn't dramatic. There was no raised voices. Just a quiet sense of something soft slipping through our fingers.

He was editing again - something about a collab with his new mates.

I was boxing up a batch of lemon curd cupcakes, too tired to pretend I wasn't hurting - hurting in my own home.

"You called my dream a 'cute idea'," I said finally, barely a whisper.

George blinked, looked up as if he hadn't heard right. "Wait-what?'

"My bakery. You said it was cute. Like a trend. A phase."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly. "I was just being realistic."

"I know." I swallowed, "but that's the thing. You're chasing yours like it's already real...and you made mine sound like something I'd grow out of - like a child's dream."

There was a long pause. Then -

"I didn't mean to make you feel small."

"I know," I said again. "But you still did."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

We didn't say let's break up. It just happened.

He stayed the night. We held each other like people who weren't ready to let go yet, but already knew we had to.

He left the next morning with a quiet, "see you around," and the ghost of a kiss on my forehead.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After that, life moved on.

I worked. I baked. I mourned. I stopped checking his page after a while. He kept growing - slowly, steadily. His face popped up on my feed sometimes, smiling over beers or filming chaotic videos with friends I never knew.

He looked happy.

I tried to be.

But sometimes, I'd catch myself icing a cake and wondering if he ever thought of me - of us.

Sometimes I'd see a jar of sprinkles and think about how he used to eat them, by the handful, from the jar.

And that was it.

Not a disaster. Not a betrayal.

Just a quiet goodbye between two people who wanted different things at the same time - and couldn't find the right way to say it out loud.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

hi all!

I hope you enjoyed the first part for my second series, and are excited to see what comes next!!

See you next time,

mwah x

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

taglist x

@mothersversiononly @whisperturnedecho @lovingaphroditesworld @reidyourpalms @liz140569 @swizzlemynizzle @wherethezoes-at @clarkeyzzz @swiftlyjo

#british youtubers #george clarke #george clarkey #george clarke fanfic #george clarke fics #george clarke x reader #george clarkey x reader #uk youtubers #bittersweetmemories #the internets girlfriend #theinternetsgirlfriend #baking #heartbroken

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electrozeistyking · 1 month ago

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HOWDY HEY!!!! My Piece for The Down Limbo Lane Art Collab!!!

LOOKS LIKE IT'S TIME TO SHOW 'EM OFF!! I gotta bit to say about this and wanted to push it under a read more, so!!! there you go!!!

OKAY SO!!! HI HELLO!!! Site for the "Down Limbo Lane Art Collab" is up now, and so that means I get to show off my entry for it (though it's pretty obvious this is me since i used my watermark AT LEAST THREE DIFFERENT TIMES and i'm credited LOL)!!!

This is my first time being a part of something like this, zine or digital art gallery or otherwise!!!! ESPECIALLY BEING AMIDST SO MANY OF US YIPPEE WOW!!!! It seemed SO SO EXCITING AND FUN, so I landed up with this piece!!!

I chose to draw some of my favourite Great God Grove characters: being Inspekta, Capochin, Godpoke, Megapon and Patty. I do like A LOT OF CHARACTERS IN GGG, and as much as I would've LOVED to draw them all, I know my limits and I know I would've stopped working on it very soon if I had. Ergo, only a small handful of them could suffice.

I WILL LIKELY REBLOG THIS WITH FACTS ON THIS PIECE LATER, BUT I WILL SAY RIGHT NOW!!!! I landed up making an alternate version of the piece that is NOT ON THE SITE, and wanted to share it here as well BECAUSE YOU'RE COOL AND I DECIDE YOU GET BONUS STUFF:

I call this the "Censored Pink Burgie" version. I offered it in case the first version's background was a bit much, on account of the burgies (I'm not the best at gauging stuff due to being desensitized to a lot), but if I'm to be honest with you, while the first version IS the one I preferred to be used, I wasn't too broken up over the idea of it NOT being used.

I knew it'd be fun to show off the version of the piece that didn't make it on here, too! So. Pink Burgies. You're welcome, citizens (JOKE).

I am SO SO SO happy I get to be a part of something like this!!! And happy sixth anniversary to Smile For Me!!! One of these days I'll draw Dr Habit and no one will stop me when I do LMAOO

#zeisty’s heavy hitters #great god grove #great god grove capochin #great god grove godpoke #great god grove inspekta #bizzyboy p #great god grove spoilers #adjacent tag #can never be too careful #great god grove patty #great god grove megapon #implied inspekchin #man's not freaking out because he's too busy looking at the spekta ngl #pattypoke #because yes. look at them. i love them #limbolane games #down limbo lane #can you tell i am very excited and generally overjoyed to be a part of this

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littlebirdwizard · 1 month ago

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My piece for the Down Limbolane collab hosted by @echobsilly! Everybody go check it out RIGHT NOW!! There's so much good art on there.

Happy 6th anniversary to Smile For Me!! So old....

(Unshaded ver below because I like it as well)

#smile for me #smile for me game #smile for me fanart #trevor garbo #nat vancey #limbolane #down limbo lane #my art

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echobsilly · 3 months ago

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Art Submissions are NOW OPEN for the DOWN LIMBO LANE Collab!📣🌼🙂

This form will close on MAY 10TH! info + form below!

RECAP🌼

Here is the original announcement post for this project! Here's a little TLDR:

Celebrating Smile For Me's 6th Anniversary, this year's art collaboration is open to all LimboLane games, dedicated to highlighting this growing community!

Artists will make visual pieces featuring anything from ANY LimboLane Project ( Smile For Me, FACE LOVE, Great God Grove & L4CEY ) - Focus a piece on one game, two, ALL - One character, Multiple, Ships, Canon, Crossovers between the games, GO HAM!

This will be a DIGITAL GALLERY rather than a Zine -- artwork will be hosted on a Website, rather than a PDF. Anyone can join and submit work before the deadline MAY 10TH!

For the full timeline, description, submission guidelines (Keep images PG + under 10MB), and to SUBMIT WORK, please view the form below! :-D

🌼SUBMISSION FORM🌼

If you do not have a Google account and are unable to access the form, please send an email to [email protected] from your preferred email address! We will send you an alternate instructions via email as soon as we are available.

And of course, feel free to ask any other questions! HAVE FUN! 🌼

#smile for me #great god grove #face love #limbolane #limbo lane #YYYIIIIPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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forest-hashira · 9 months ago

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Biblically Accurate

hi guys!!! i wrote this as an entry for my anniversary/200 follower milestone collab event! i have at least one more entry planned for myself, and a few other people are writing/drawing things as entries as well! you can find the event masterlist here. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this silly goofy little thing 💜

read on ao3 | wc: ~3.1k | cw: gender neutral reader (no pronouns, reader is dressed as a female character for halloween), bickering/banter/teasing, slight hint of jealous gojo, can be interpreted as pre-relationship or fully platonic

“You’re really not putting any more effort into your costume?” you asked, looking Shoko over and eyeing the white sheet draped over her arm as you passed her your hand mirror to hold. You were in the common area of the dorms with her, Nanami, and Haibara, the three of you putting the finishing touches on your costumes.

“Nope,” Shoko confirmed, accepting the mirror and holding it in her lap as you sat down, pulling out your small set of face paints. “Gojo told me my only options were a ghost or a sexy nun.”

“Not even a regular nun?”

She shook her head. “He said if I showed up dressed like a “musty old lady” nun he would refuse to be seen with me.” The way she used air quotes and an exaggerated expression of disgust around the description made you roll your eyes, despite your smile; that sounded just like your senpai.

“I don’t blame you for picking the ghost, then.”

“Thank you.” Shoko smiled at you, popping a piece of gum into her mouth with her free hand; she’d been trying to quit smoking – on campus, at least – since she’d gotten busted by Yaga so many times already this school year.

Setting your face paints and brushes down on the table beside Shoko, you stood again, grabbing a few paper towels and filling a small glass with water to clean off your brushes when you were finished. You glanced over at your classmates as you walked back to your seat, smiling a bit to yourself as you saw Haibara gushing over Nanami’s costume.

Doing group costumes by year had been Gojo’s idea, though he insisted the themes needed to be kept secret for each group. Hearing Shoko say what her options apparently were gave you some idea what your upperclassmen had chosen as their theme, but you wouldn’t know until the other boys arrived; you just hoped they weren’t too late, since you knew Gojo was the only way any of you would be able to get into the party he had insisted you all needed to attend. You didn’t have a lot of particular feelings about going to the party, but the idea of getting to spend time with everyone was really nice, since it was rare that all six of you were in Tokyo at the same time and not occupied by other things.

“What theme did you guys go with, anyway?” Shoko asked, as you sat back down and gestured for her to hold the mirror up for you. “You can’t possibly all be from the same movie or something.”

“We’re not,” you confirmed, wetting your brush and lightly tapping off the excess water before dipping into the red paint. “We’re all from different Ghibli movies.”

“That’s your theme?”

You carefully traced the outline of the first triangle under your eye. “All of our characters are royalty.” You paused, considering for a moment, then added, “Well, sort of.”

“Sort of?” Shoko arched a brow at your words.

“Yeah, sort of,” you said, filling in the first triangle and outlining the second. “Haibara is actually royalty. He’s Prince Arren, from Tales from Earthsea. The movie came out this year, it’s what made him suggest the theme in the first place.” The brush was dipped back in the red paint, then the second triangle filled in. “I’m San from Princess Mononoke.” You went quiet for a moment, moving your hair apart a bit on your forehead to give yourself space to paint the final triangle. “And Nanami is Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle. He’s not technically royalty, but he has a castle.”

Glancing over your shoulder at your classmates to make sure they weren’t listening, you leaned in closer to Shoko. “It was Haibara’s suggestion,” you said, much quieter than before. “I think he just wanted to see Nanami with earrings on and his hair down.”

She grinned at your words, both of you only managing to stifle a laugh because right then was when Gojo and Geto decided to make their grand entrance. Geto wore a pair of comfortable looking red pants, a simple black long sleeve shirt, and a red jacket on top. There was a headband with two small red horns atop his head, and a little plastic pitchfork in his hand, and when you glanced down, you saw a red, pointed tail hanging off the back of his pants; clearly he was going as a – the? – devil.

Even without the context of Geto’s costume, it would’ve been hard to mistake what Gojo was supposed to be. The flowy white shirt, white jeans, feathery white wings – which were larger than they really had the right to be – fixed to his back, and the silver halo headband atop his fluffy white hair making it obvious that he was an angel. He was without his dark sunglasses for once, presumably because they didn’t go with the rest of the ensemble he wore.

“No need to worry everyone, your favorite Tokyo Jujutsu High students have arrived!” Gojo announced with a wide, mischievous grin. Behind him, you saw Geto roll his eyes, even if there was a faint hint of a smile on his lips, too.

“You are not my favorite student,” Shoko and Nanami said in unison, completely by accident. You bit your lip to keep from chuckling at the coincidence, but you lost that battle when you saw the indignant look on Gojo’s face.

The sound of your laughter pulled his attention from your friends, and he scowled as he looked at you, though really it looked more like a pout. “What are you laughing at?” he groused.

“You,” you answered simply, grinning at him. “It’s funny how bent out of shape you get when someone tells you you’re not their favorite.”

He jutted out his bottom lip, crossing his arms over his chest. You could tell he wanted to argue, but was apparently having a hard time coming up with any sort of witty retort. “Whatever,” he said eventually. “What are you supposed to be, anyway? You’ve got red all over your face.”

You just rolled your eyes at him. “I’m San,” you told him, turning back to face the mirror Shoko still held for you, putting the final touches on your face paint.

“Who?”

“The wolf girl from the movie that came out a while back, right?” Geto asked. “Princess of something, I think…”

“Princess Mononoke, yeah!” Haibara chirped, grinning. “I’m surprised you knew, it feels like not a lot of people have seen it.”

“Because they haven’t,” Gojo said, rolling his eyes. “People only see the good Ghibli movies.”

Irritated, you dropped the paintbrush in the glass of water you’d gotten to clean it off. You turned back to face him, a scowl deep on your face. “All Studio Ghibli movies are good ones,” you snapped, barely refraining from calling him names. “If you can’t understand or appreciate the deeper themes in the movies, you can just say that.”

“What themes?” he asked, looking a bit more genuinely, less snippy. “I haven’t seen it, I wouldn’t know what they are.”

“Environmentalism, animism, disability, true love, cycles of violence—” Geto began, but Gojo waved him off.

“Ok, some heavy hitters, I get it. It doesn’t sound very entertaining, though.”

“There’s a curse that develops from the negative energy imbued in a weapon,” Nanami cut in, expression unchanged and seemingly unenthused by the conversation, but that wasn’t unusual; Haibara was really the only one who could ever seem to get him to smile even a little bit.

There was a brief moment of silence, punctuated by a curious “Really?” from Gojo; it would’ve been funnier if you weren’t irritated over him dissing your favorite Ghibli movie.

Seeming to register the other boys’ costumes then, Gojo grinned. “Haibara, you make an amazing Arren! And Nanamin, you do kind of look the part with the hair and all, but… you know Howl is supposed to be charming, right?”

Your classmate’s expression went from unaffected to irked in less time than it took you to blink, though when Haibara jumped in with a defensive, “I think he’s very charming, in his own way,” he went red almost to the tips of his ears.

The mischievous flash in Gojo’s eyes was impossible to miss, but Geto smacked him in the back of the head before he could say anything. The white haired sorcerer glared at his best friend, then stalked off with a huff, crossing the room until he stood beside the couch you sat on. Without saying anything, he plucked the mirror from Shoko’s hand and began fussing with his hair.

“What do you think of my costume, hm?” he asked you, straightening his halo before shooting you a grin. “Pretty great, huh?”

You just shrugged. “It looks like any other angel costume.”

His eyes widened, and he stared at you, open-mouthed, looking deeply offended. “What do you mean ‘just like any other angel costume’?” he demanded.

“White clothes, white wings, halo headband. It’s pretty basic, Gojo-senpai.”

“But nobody else has eyes like mine,” he pointed out.

“No,” you conceded, “but you’re also not showing them all off.”

“…All my what?”

“Your eyes. You’ve got six of them, don’t you?”

Though you fought hard to conceal your grin, the sound of Shoko’s snicker made it impossible, and you barely bit back a laugh.

Finally catching up to your joke, Gojo laughed too. “I think even if I could show all six eyes at the same time it would scare the normies too bad.”

“Yaga-sensei would probably have your ass for it, too,” Shoko added.

“Like how he has your ass for smoking on campus?” Geto asked her, dropping down to sit in the armchair adjacent to the couch, looking smug.

“You smoke on campus too,” she retorted.

He smirked. “Yes, but I don’t get caught like you do.”

“I’m gonna start ratting you out.”

“Sure you will.”

Rolling your eyes as the two upperclassmen bickered with each other, you turned your attention back to Gojo, and you were more than a little surprised to see how much closer to you he’d gotten, leaning down to look you in the eye, despite how he towered over your seated form.

“So,” he asked, “you gonna help me show off my Six Eyes or what?”

You blinked dumbly at him for a moment. “…What?”

He rolled his eyes, but there was still a smile on his face. “You’ve got paints right here—” he gestured to the table in front of you “— how else are the normies supposed to see all six of my eyes?”

Once you finally processed what he was suggesting, you bit back a grin. The idea was more than a little funny, but you couldn’t let him know you thought that. If he knew, it would go straight to his head, which was big enough already; you’d joked with Nanami more than once that if Gojo’s head got any bigger, he’d have a hard time walking upright.

“Well?” Gojo prodded, when you didn’t answer fast enough for his liking.

“Fine,” you sighed, “but only if you’ll sit down and shut up long enough for me to do it.”

He stood up straight, saluted you, then mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. Geto pretended to catch said key, and you shook your head at them, smiling slightly to yourself. As he settled himself on the floor in front of you, you thoroughly rinsed your brush, making sure none of the red paint still lingered in the bristles, then dipped it into the white paint on your palette.

When you turned your attention back to your senpai, you were somewhat startled to see him staring at you with wide, earnest eyes, though he’d stopped smiling for the time being. It unsettled you a bit, having his full, unimpeded focus on you like that, but… it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, if you were being honest with yourself. “Ready?”

He nodded eagerly, fulfilling your request for him to sit down and shut up. You wondered briefly if your wording had been too harsh, but decided there was no use dwelling on it anymore. You nodded back, then carefully began to make an outline of two more sets of eyes on his face: two extra eyes on each cheek, side by side under his real, already very striking eyes.

Your lines were far from perfect, but they were steady enough, so you were happy with them. You dipped your brush back in the paint whenever you started to run out, making sure the white covered everything inside each of the outlines. Giving all four spaces a chance to dry, you once again cleaned your brush as thoroughly as you could, then switched to the blue paint. It wasn’t an exact match for Gojo’s eyes, but you figured it was close enough that it wouldn’t matter in low lighting.

“You’re pretty good at this!” Haibara praised, dropping to sit beside you on the couch.

You felt your cheeks heat at his words. “Oh, uh. Thank you, but I’m not a professional, I’m just trying my best.”

“Well I think you’re doing a wonderful job,” your classmate insisted, practically beaming at you. You offered him a smile, then turned your attention to Gojo once again and— was he glaring at Haibara?

Gojo’s expression changed so quickly once he had your attention again that you couldn’t tell if you’d imagined him glaring or not, but you decided not to push it, since that would just wind up being awkward for everyone.

Just as carefully as you’d painted the whites of each of the eyes, you added the blue irises, trying to make the circles as perfect as you could, though trying to work on such a small space made that rather difficult. You did your best, and the end result was not as terrible as it could have been, you supposed.

Another thorough cleaning of your brush between colors, this time with the sounds of your classmates and upperclassmen chatting to each other as you worked, which came as a relief; when it was silent before, it had felt like everyone was staring at you, and it made you nervous.

It was still a bit unnerving to have Gojo staring at you the way he was, but there wasn’t really a way around that, so you chose to ignore the way it made your stomach flutter.

You dipped your brush into the black paint this time, placing pupils in the center of each eye. After getting a bit more paint on the brush, you added the faintest hint of an outline to the underside of each eye, wanting them to stand out a bit more against his already pale skin.

Once you finished, you sat back a bit, looking over your handiwork. The eyes looked fine, but it felt like something was missing, you just couldn’t figure out what.

“Eyelashes,” came Nanami’s voice from behind the couch.

“Huh?” you asked, turning your head to look at your classmate, your brows furrowed slightly with confusion.

“Eyelashes,” he repeated, voice just as disinterested as before. “That’s what they’re missing.” His eyes left Gojo’s face and met yours as he shrugged. “You were staring at them really hard, I figured you thought something was missing.”

“Thanks,” you said, a bit sheepishly. “I was trying to figure out what I was forgetting. I’ll add the lashes.”

Nanami just nodded, his expression unchanged, though you were pretty sure he was glad to have been of help. You nodded back, then turned back to Gojo once again.

After cleaning your brush in the now-murky glass of water, you switched back to the white paint, adding delicate lashes to each of the four eyes with light flicks of the brush, and even adding a few little touches to the irises to give them a bit more dimension.

The last few additions didn’t take long at all, and when you leaned back to look at your work again, you smiled. Nanami was right, they did look a lot better now that you’d added lashes to them. “Okay,” you said, dropping the brush back into the water now that you were satisfied with your work. “All done. You ready to see?”

Gojo’s expression lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. Then, remembering he held the mirror in his lap, he picked it up, turning his head back and forth to get a good look at all four eyes. He looked absolutely giddy as he put the mirror down in his lap again to look up at you, but he said nothing. You were confused for a moment, then remembered.

“You can speak now, Gojo-senpai. I’m finished.”

He turned towards Geto then, snapping to get the other boy’s attention, then making grabby hands and pointing at his mouth. Geto also looked confused for a moment, then remembered that he had “stolen” the fake key that kept his classmate’s mouth locked shut. The raven haired boy rolled his eyes, then mimed tossing the key back to his friend. “You’re so weird.”

After “catching” the key, the frosty haired boy was quick to unlock his mouth, then stick his tongue out at his friend. “You’re just jealous that you’re not getting all the attention for once,” he retorted, but Geto just rolled his eyes again.

Turning back to you, Gojo was practically beaming. “You made me look so cool!” he exclaimed, then added, “Well, cooler, because I already looked cool, like always.”

“Oh yeah,” Shoko drawled. “You’re soooo cool, Gojo.”

“I am cool!” he insisted, pushing himself up off the floor as he scowled at her. “Your costume is just a sheet, you don’t get to talk to me about what’s cool.”

“Where did you say this party was again?” Haibara cut in, quickly dispelling the budding argument between the two upperclassmen.

Gojo beamed down at the younger boy. “It’s a surprise!” he said, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “But we need to get going if we wanna get there before it gets too crowded. C’mon!” He herded everyone up from their seats and towards the door of the common room, hyping up the party as much as he could. You brought up the rear of the group, but you paused when he turned back to face you.

“Thanks for painting these on for me,” he said, gesturing towards his face. “I appreciate it.”

He turned away again before you could say anything, but it took you a moment before you caught up with everyone again; Gojo had never thanked you for anything before, but you were glad that he did, even if it made your cheeks burn a little bit.

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @oceaneyesinla @pixelcafe-network @peachsukii

@lemonloaves @lu-dao-writes @roselleviennesstuff

@dr-runs-with-scissors @entirelysein-e @teddybeartoji @sugurei @whatthefucksatan

@witchbybirth @gods-landing @iesbiangojo @ambiguouslady42 @hayatoseyepatch

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#fallon's fics #autumn leaves #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo jjk #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction

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withclawandvine · 19 days ago

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title: the way you fall asleep

summary: The gentle scratching of your nails sends a pleasurable shiver zipping down Shouto’s spine. He tightens his arms, curling into you indulgently. But you still feel so distant — lost to the hidden world in your other hand. He cranes his neck to peer up at you. “Love? Can you read to me?”

tags: sfw, fluff, with maybe a sprinkle of hurt/comfort, established relationship

wc: 1.1k

author’s note: this is for @seiwas’ anniversary celebration collab! i’ve had this idea floating around in my head for ages, and knew this event would be the perfect reason to actually sit down and write it!

it was inspired by 1. fond memories of reading with my father when i was little and 2. one of my favorite quotes from john green’s the fault in our stars: “as he read, i fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.”

The nightly ritual Enji Todoroki had enforced on young Shouto was nothing if not practical, a steel beam in the complex framework of an elite hero. So even through his utter rejection of his father in his teens, moving to the dorms, and then graduating and getting his own place, Shouto habitually avoided sugar and screens after a certain hour, stretched for at least ten minutes before getting under the covers, and slept in a cool, pitch-dark room.

Of course, since moving in together, there are plenty of nights when Shouto is too tangled up in you to care all that much about nurturing his spine and hip flexors. But a lot of times, it’s just you, unwinding in bed as he flows through a few basic yoga postures. Wrapping yourself around him when he slips in next to you, whispering the details of your days until you fall asleep.

Tonight, however, you barely seem to notice Shouto letting himself under the covers, far too preoccupied with the book in your hand. Concentration furrows your brow as your eyes devour the words. Just like you have been since you returned from your favorite little bookshop in the afternoon.

It had been no small effort, coaxing the book out of your hand for dinner. And that hour of your time — your undivided attention — was far from enough. Shouto had found himself missing you every step of his evening run with Midoriya, and each minute he’d spent in the shower, washing away the sweat and wishing you’d join him.

And, as silly as it sounds, he misses you right now.

Shouto slides in closer, lowering his head onto your lap and looping his arms around your waist. You make room for him easily, adjusting so you can hold your book with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. The gentle scratching of your nails sends a pleasurable shiver zipping down Shouto’s spine. He tightens his arms, curling into you indulgently. In the shuffle, your shirt had ridden up, exposing a sliver of skin along your hipbone. Idly, Shouto traces circles over your skin with his thumb.

But you still feel so distant — lost to the hidden world in your other hand as the silence stretches.

Your fingers keep time; every few minutes, you pause your caresses to turn the page. After the fourth time, Shouto can’t bear it any longer. He cranes his neck to peer up at you. “Love?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you read to me?”

“Read this?” Your brow creases at his nod. “I’m… in the middle.”

“I don’t mind,” he says. “I just want to listen to you.”

The smile you give him is soft and fond. “Okay.”

You’re right of course; Shouto hasn’t the slightest idea what’s going on. He can’t remember who’s saying what, or if that unfamiliar word is supposed to be the name of a person or a place. But then, he isn’t making much of an effort to understand, focusing instead on the sound of your voice. To his ears, the words are simply sweet nothings, lulling him into that fuzzy place between sleep and wakefulness.

But just as he feels himself start to tip over, he notices the silence — so absolute it feels almost smothering. At first, he thinks you’ve also drifted off, but when he cracks open an eye, he’s met with the warm glow of the bedside lamp. The a turning page disrupts the disorienting quiet.

Shouto is surprised to hear the gravel in his voice when he asks, “Why’d you stop?”

Through bleary eyes, he can just make out your smile, its amused lilt. “You started snoring.”

“I was listening,” he says, trying for that flat, matter-of-fact affect he’s so well-known for. Instead, he yawns halfway through, which does nothing for the credibility of his words. Still, he pushes on, “You can keep going.”

Please, keep going, he thinks, pushing his bottom lip into a small pout and softening his eyes. It’s a look that always ends with you giving in, grumbling something about pretty privilege.

Now, though, you’re regarding him with a bemused grin. “Oh, so you were one of those kids?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ones who take forever to tuck in?” you explain. “Always asking for another story, another glass of water. One more hug.”

Shouto has never known how to answer questions about himself as a child. Not because he was ashamed, but because any memories that aren’t razor-sharp are formless shapes that all seem to clump together — one day indistinguishable from the next.

If his mother read him stories before his father sent her away, he doesn’t remember. He does, however, remember the weakness of asking for things being drilled out of him. Top heroes didn’t need stories or hugs or help. And anything they did need, they got for themselves.

“Nobody tucked you in,” you conclude, speaking the realization out loud after a prolonged silence, wringing the sheets between anxious hands. No matter how many times Shouto has told you that you can ask him anything, promised that he’ll tell you whatever you want to know, you still retreat into yourself whenever you feel you’ve pushed too much.

“Fuyumi might have,” Shouto says, if for no other reason than to comfort you. He covers your hands with his, coaxing them into stillness. “If my father allowed it … I had a very strict routine when he started training me.”

At the mention of his father, your nostrils flare and your jaw tightens, even as you turn your hand over to catch his hand in yours. You give it a squeeze, saying more than words ever could.

The corner of Shouto’s mouth twitches into a small, private smile when he hears the rustling of pages, a book being reopened. When you start reading again, your voice, tight with emotion, catches on the first few words. The arm still snug between the headboard and your lower back is starting to feel a bit numb; he ought to move over to his pillow, lay out flat on his back. If he stays curled around you like this, he’ll surely feel it in the morning.

But your voice has smoothed out, bewitching once again. The effect is immediate; Shouto’s eyes flutter shut. And as you read, he falls asleep in the same way that he had fallen in love with you: easing gently into something inevitable and deep.

#weeee i’ve been cooking this for a while and i’m so happy it’s done!#now i’m off to read in bed myself 🙂‍↕️#my writing: mha #fic: mha #mha #mha x reader #shouto x reader

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cosmokrill · 1 year ago

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My full submission for the Smile For Me 5th anniversary collab!

+ a little silly doodle with my friend @owlfromthemeadow! Thank you for getting me into such a silly game

#coralkrill #coralkrill art #s4m #smile for me #smile for me game #smile for me oc #dr habit #putunia mollar

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daughterscars62 · 1 month ago

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Hehehe Boris For Smile For Me 6th Anniversary Collab By @echobsilly :3

Go Check Out The Website :D -> The Website

"Hopefully I'll Get See You Soon Friend :-)"

-.. --- -. .----. - / --. --- / .. -. - --- / - .... . / -.. --- --- .-. -.-.-- -.-.--

#smile for me #s4m #sfm game #boris habit #smile for me game #smile for me 6th Anniversary #limbolane #s4m game #smile for us au

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renranram · 1 year ago

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My Barista ⊹ ࣪ ˖

sfw

where quackity starts to leave paper hearts for barista y/n every single day || short btw

alex had caught an interest for the new barista from the café he had been going ever since he attended college

he liked you because of your personality, he finds you kind, friendly and approachable but never had the balls to talk to you unless he has to order something

“ look, why don't you just talk to them man? it's that simple, just say hi, i find you attractive and shit like that can i get your number? “ his friend, karl, states as alex groans out, fixing his earbuds as he glances at you

the man was in a call with karl, hoping for a collab but it leads on to him ranting about you, “ you know it's not that easy, i mean, just look at them, they're so pretty, and kind, and shit like that “ alex sighs out

“ be glad im filming for a video, if i was there i would be the one to tell them “ karl continues to scold his bestfriend, “ yeah yeah of course you would “ alex chuckles as he fixes his beanie

“ oh, what's that? “ he asks, spotting a heart shaped paper on karl’s background, “ oh, jimmy challenged us to make origamis and stuffs “ karl grabs the heart shaped origami as he got it closer to the camera

“ it's cute “ alex commented as karl shrugs, smug, “ because i made it “ he flips his hair as alex could only chuckle before glancing up at you again

“ uh… how can you make that? “ he asks, “ it's really simple! “ karl exclaims as he guides alex, gently folding the paper in even sides then creating a paper heart

and after that, history was made, at first, he didn't actually mean to leave the paper, he forgot to pick it up because he was rushing, but seeing you smile as you pick up the paper heart, he started intentionally leaving them

and you, didn't mind, you cleaned his table everytime he leaves, hoping he'd leave another and he does, it was kinda awkward every time he orders, the two of you woupd avoid eye contact but both will be a blushing mess

“ see! im literally such a pogger “ karl cheers for him, “ yeah yeah yeah, whatever… the only problem is uhh… i kind of… don't know how to properly talk to them “ he scratches the back of his head

“ bruh “ karl exclaims, “ hm… what about you leave your number on one of the paper hearts? “ karl suggested as alex chuckles, “ fuck no, and make them think im a creep? “

“ come on! just try it, dont be so ballsy “ karl insists as alex pause, “ ill think about it “ he mutters

he left two papers for you this time, a note and the usual paper heart, ‘ open the heart:) ‘ the note states as you slowly unfolds the heart, seeing his number wrote inside

you of course hesistated first, thinking this was just a small joke or a prank but you're unaware how he would rant about you to his twitch chat and friends, his twitch chat knowing you as ‘ his favourite barista ‘

at first your texts are very awkward, but the moment you mentioned a hobby of yours it just immediately clicked, everyday he'd go on the café daily, the two of you would chat if the only customer was him

days go by, and by just a blink, alex lays his head on your shoulder, “ happy anniversary babe “ he mumbles, smiling as he pecks your cheek

“ 3 years “ you added, intertwining your hands with his as you two sat on a park, just admiring the fine summers day, “ is it really that long already? “ he chuckles as alex sits up

“ maybee “ you laugh as you open your picnic basket, setting down the strawberry that alex would always order and some other snacks too of course

as you set things up alex looks at you with admiration and a smile, fixing your hair as he pulls out a paper heart from his pocket, gently handing it to you

“ oh? “ you ask, looking at him in confusion, “ you should unfold it or something “ he smiles at you cheekily

you slowly unfold the neatly folded paper, ‘ will you marry me? ‘ the paper reads out as you gasp, as suddenly alex was in one knee, holding out a small box for you

looking up at you, “ i know this isn't your ideal proposal but uh “ he scratches the back of his head as you tackle him with a hug, already sobbing

you press kisses all over his face, leaving your lipstick marks as alex could only chuckle, gently guiding you to wear your engagement ring

#alex quackity #quackity fluff #quackity fanfic #quackity x reader #quackity #alex quackity x reader #qsmp fanfiction #qsmp quackity #qsmp

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muzansfangs · 2 years ago

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Ice ice baby.

Starring: Douma x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, modern au, human au, blindfolds, ice play, sensory-deprivation, nipple play, enstablished relationship, dom!Douma, sub!reader, oral sex (reader!receiving), slight overstimulation, praise kink;

Plot: When your boyfriend asked you if you trusted him in planning something special for your anniversary, you had no idea of what he had come up with. The moment he had led you to your bedroom, you wondered why he had blindfolded you. Yet, as you laid down onto your bed and something cold, melting even, trailed down your sensitive curves, you knew that you were in for a ride.

Author note: It’s barely midnight, but it’s 7th October… Which means it’s time to post my work for the kinktober collab hosted by the talented @doumadono. To deliver you guys a special treat for celebrating the kinky month, I have chosen to gift you a deadly combo: Douma + sensory-deprivation. Have fun! Here’s the link to the Masterlist!

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT: KINKTOBER’23.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

A shaky breath left your mouth, lips parting in anticipation as your heart was thrumming so hard you thought it was surely trying to break your ribs and jump right out of your chest. Darkness enveloped you. The silky fabric of your boyfriend's tie was kissing your closed eyelids, as you idly accepted your fate. Your other senses were now sharpening, as you tried to come to terms with the fact that you were temporary deprived of your sight.

"Do you trust me, darling?".

His words echoed into your mind, goosebumps raising over the exposed flesh of your body, as he was helping you to lay down onto your shared bed. His voice pierced your ears sensually, as you could feel his hot breath fan the shell of your ear. He was close, so close to you, but as your tried to capture his lips with yours in a sloppy kiss, you missed the target. Lost in the darkness, you had to rely rolely on your hearing to detect his position and, apparently, you had failed.

You sighed in defeat, lolling your head back on what you assumed to be your pillow, your foreteeth sinking onto your bottom lip as you heard him chuckle.

“Blindly” you sassily replied to his question, a small smile tugging your lips upwards as you heard some familiar footsteps slowly fading away.

Laying on the mattress, his presence gone now, you felt the cool air of the room gently bite your skin. You were naked, except for the thin fabric of the red laced thong your boyfriend had asked you to wear for him. The sight of his multicolored orbs was enough to make you yield at his requests but, when you had tried to resist this time, he had pulled his favorite little stunt: the puppy eyes. How could you deny him such a treat, when he stared at you like that?

As you finally heard him walk back into your bedroom, your lips parted in euphoria. He had not told you exactly what he had in mind, but he was Douma, the experimental partner that had talked you into doing things among the bedsheets you would have probably never done with anyone else.

He was the man you had told 'yes' to so many times.

Douma gazed at you, his tongue darting out of his mouth to moisten his plumped lips, as he carefully settled a metal bowl on top of the nightstand. He made sure not to make a sound in order to truly surprise you. He did not have much time to fool around. The material he had decided to involve into your sexual intercourse was melting.

“Douma…” you whispered his name, as if you wanted to make sure he was there, close to you, as he had promised to be so many times.

The silver-haired man grinned, crawling onto the bed and hovering over your frame. You looked so vulnerable, so fragile, as he caged you between his muscular arms. You shuddered, the warmth of his body heating up your own body as his lips brushed against yours. If kisses elicited such strong reactions from you, he could only imagine what would have happned at the feeling of his tongue delving into you until you broke out into a sinful series of whimpers and moans.

“I’m right here, darling’. Just relax…” he purred, his mouth leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your throat and in your middle-section. Your breasts, the soft skin of your sensitive and beautiful bosom made his mouth water.

“Where did you go?” you asked him, mouth hanging open as Douma cupped your left breast with his hand and gently sucked onto your other one. His mouth was so warm, so comforting, and you whined out in pleasure as he seemed to be taking so much care of them this time.

Some silver strands of his hair had fallen over his face, tickling your collarbone as he switched nipples and made sure to sensually give your neglected one the same treatment. You were divine, delicious.

His teeth softly nibbled onto it to make your squirm a little, a mischivious grin gracing his lips as he lifted himself up on his elbows and glanced over the bowl at his left. The time had finally come.

“I need you to focus now, princess. No questions, but moans, that’s all I wanna hear coming from that pretty mouth of yours” he instructed you, as his hand reached into the basin and grasped a medium ice cube.

You furrowed your brows, hips bucking in anticipation as he put the ice between his lips and leant over you. You would have never imagined it, never in your life, nor the act, neither the sensation it was now provoking to you.

You were about to reply something, when chills pervaded your body from head to toe. Cold, you felt cold.

A yelp, your body flinched as your hands gripped the bedsheets beside you. What exactly was that? Your breath hitched into your throat, while Douma slowly dragged the melting ice cube down the valley of your breasts, his gaze flicking up to enjoy the way your face contorted into different grimaces and perplexed expressions.

He could not talk, while his mouth was busy, but he let out a guttural sound you did not fail to hear.

“I-Ice… That’s ice. Gosh, Douma!” you breathed out, a cute noise leaving your mouth as he let the cold trail of melted ice pierce the skin of your already stimulated nipples. You moaned, you moaned loudly as Douma slipped his hands down your body and slipped your thong off of you.

You would have helped him, if you were not that lost into the unfamiliar feeling you were feeling right in that moment. The eternal bliss that man brought to you was something out of human comprehension.

“D-Douma, Douma, please…” you cried out, not knowing exactly what you were asking him to do. Maybe you wanted more, maybe you craved him more than anything and as nothing was left of that ice cube he smirked.

“You should see yourself, baby. You’re so fucked up right now… Let me cool your heat down a bit” he stated, spreading your legs more for him as his hand dived into the bowl again to pick another piece of ice from it. You were in for such a treat that night.

You shivered, a gasp of realization leaving your lips, when Douma buried his face between your thighs and began to lap your core. You clasped your hand over your mouth, toes curling as he pleasured you through his skilled tongue, but then something freezing was settled softly of your throbbing bundle of nerves and you squealed out at the contact the cold ice made with your hot-boiling flesh.

“Douma! Fuck! That’s insane” you whimpered, cheeks heating up as your boyfriend delved his tongue deep into your aching opening. Addictive, he was addictive.

Now, as you came onto his tongue, droplets of cool water scattered all over your naked body, as remnants of the awful amount of ice Douma had involved into your night of passion, you were so glad to have let him handle your anniversary.

He was truly a gift from Heaven.

TAGS: @doumadono @mrskokushibo

#kinktobercollab‘23 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #douma x reader #douma smut #douma x you #douma x y/n #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fanfic

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