#thanks babes it is a digital painting

[fishercatking]

[jaiette]

ralisse and celune 🔥💧

[defmaybe]

What would this kkura do to you?

The silk proving to be a thin and yet effective barrier, keeping you on the edge craving for her touch

Up close all in your personal space, the scent of her body lotion is mesmerizing. That tummy, those shoulder ,all within your reach but you're not allowed to touch or sometimes even look at them.

Her foot teasing your inner thighs, just to see your erection bulge uncontrollably

And that outline certainly isn't helping...

She's going to give you a reward in the end right? Riiiight??

I'm one lustful individual, Frisky, here's a quickie lmao

Midnight Blues

LE SSERAFIM's Miyawaki Sakura x Male Reader

1k words

It’s mostly your moans, really, as Sakura grins under the soft light from your television playing some fuckass Netflix rom-com, eyes focused on your torture. You can’t quite pinpoint where it started, but it’s like you’d care with her feet rubbing on your clothed thighs, anyway.

She hasn’t taken her shower yet, still in the midnight blue leather dress she wore for her stage today. White streaks of light are painted on it, and sweat can still be seen on her face. The smell of her rosy lotion and exhaustion permeate the room.

You shift on the couch, letting out a frustrated groan, “S–Sakura, please.”

“No, baby, I have a title. Say it and I’ll do it.”

Her soles contacting the clothed your sensitive area are trying to pull the words back inside your needy, slutty throat. “M–Mis–,” is what you can choke out.

“Mis–what, baby boy?” She asks in a sultry voice, the edge of her toes grazing your sacks, giving some expectations of what’s coming.

“Mistress.”

She lunges at your pajamas’ waistband, pulling it off to reveal your raging erection in a swift motion.

“Hard already?” Sakura chuckles, before sinking back onto the leather couch. It cries as it rubs against her suit.

“Y–Yes, mistress–ngh!” She grabs your cock with her bare soles. She strokes you while being careful of her long nails.

The room is filled with your slutty moans under the ministration Sakura is giving you. It has always been her expertise, really. There was a high-speed incident where it left you with your semen on the dashboard—to which she tastefully cleaned it up. Or the other time in the first class, where you had to suppress your moans to avoid waking up the other fellow passengers. Good thing she had her mouth on your cock by the time it spills your essence.

“M–Mistress, you’re s–so good at this,” you whine, hands gripping the poor fabric of your sofa.

“Thank you, baby,” she responds with a giggle, biting her finger while doing so. Fuck, if the footjob isn’t so damn good, you’d have leap onto her right now. 

She ups the ante, rubbing your erection even quicker. And you can only moan out her name, “Mistress S–Sakura~,” as her heavenly dexterity continues to send electricity through you.

Again, she giggles at your pleasure. Her grip remains soft but tight on your length, at a moderato tempo. “Want me to go even faster, baby boy?”

“Y–Yes, mistress,” you reply in a haste.

She complies with your plea by speeding up her feet on your cock. Each stroke remains careful, yet so unrelenting at making you cum just for her, spreading your seed everywhere (but mostly, she prefers it inside her warm, welcoming mouth; she says that she loves your taste.)

“S–Sakura,” you say, trying to deliver something.

“Hey, my title, baby, remember?” Her voice laces with playful aggression, lower than it should be.

“No, I–I’m just gonna say t–that I love you, babe.” 

And Sakura beams at your words.

“Aww, that’s so sweet baby, I love you too. Still,—” she moves in her seat just a little, trying to accommodate the pace she’s giving on your digit. “—you’ll have to cum for me, so let’s do this, alright, baby?”

You gaze back at her busy feet, seeing her rubbing your cock like that just sends shivers through you, doesn’t it? “Y–Yes, Sakura.”

The tempo is fast; it’s enough to make a sound louder than whatever the characters in your television are moaning right now. You can feel your impending climax from afar. It’s there, it’s there.

Sakura is probably feeling your orgasm coming with the tensed thighs, “Gonna cum, baby?”

“I–I think I–I’m close, mistress.”

“Wanna see more of me before you’re there, baby? Consider this a small gift,” she asks, hands seeming to toy with the zipper at the back. “Well, it’s not small, really.”

You let out a small laugh with the moan as you sheepishly nod at her proposal.

“Alright, baby.” She then unzips her leather top, still putting an effort into rubbing your raging cock. She slowly peels it off, revealing more bare, porcelain skin of hers at each second—neck, collarbones, cleavage. And then there’s the main course—her supple chest that you’ve always loved. Fuck, she even wears nothing underneath her sheer top. They look so smooth, so mouthwatering. Her brown, salivating nipples sitting atop of them is the best part of it, really.

And as it comes undone, she tosses the garment away, giving you the view of her bouncing, delicate breasts at each stroke.

“M–Mistress,” you involuntarily utter.

“Well, I don’t mind you staring, baby.” She laughs.

And with a few more strokes, you can feel it—the impending climax. It builds up inside your lower stomach. It seeps within your body like a plague—one that you’d let it destroy you.

“I’m gonna cum, mistress,” you mutter.

She smiles, before lifting off her seat, sinking to her knees in front of you. And within a whim, she easily swallows your cock, eyes focused on the target. You can do fucking nothing but moan.

“Yes, baby, moan for me,” Sakura says with your length being inside her cavern. “Cum for me.”

It’s almost there. Your thighs tense up, your grip on the couch has never been tighter, so is the tightness of her mouth. Her cheeks are hollowing just for you, creating such empyrean suction none can compare. She bobs her head up and down to push you to it—the orgasm you’ve always wanted.

“S–Sakura,” you utter, before giving in to your orgasm.

You spill loads and loads inside her wanting mouth as her eyes roll upwards to meet yours—so lost in the throes of pleasure. Your hips rock at each spurt, making your flesh hitting the depths inside her cavern. She silently yelps at each hit, jaws locked by your slutty cock.

It slowly dissipates, and you’re panting along with the descent. She laughs with your cock still stuffed within her mouth, before slowly, agonizingly, pulling herself out of it. You groan at the drag.

“Hmm, tastes good as always, baby.” She pulls her tongue out—all clean, unstained. She fucking swallowed it all.

“I always taste good, babe.”

Sakura stands up, smiling. “Wanna cuddle?”

“Definitely… maybe, after round two.”

[s-4pphics]

click!: in frame. 2 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]

WORD COUNT: 11.5k

WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, ANGST!!, daddy issues, SA/victim blaming :(, homophobia LOL, anger issues\violence, bad parenting, anxiety, joel standing on bidness, FLUFF!! :3, SMUT… MDNI, ellie bottoms YAAAS, virginity mentions, jealousy😂, dubcon (they’re high), more fingering, brief mentions of cunning lunning, squirting, mult. big Os, err dassit

A/N: YYYYAASSSSSSSS hi… bye 

APRIL, 2014

Happy birthday, babe, you whisper in your girlfriend’s ear, arms wrapped around her neck from behind. Ceniyah’s giggly thank yous fill your ears and heart as you press smacking kisses on her cheek. 

I made you something… You reach behind and grab the rolled-up poster paper sticking out of your backpack, making sure Ceniyah doesn’t turn around. She seems giddy and your heart soars. You hope that all-nighter was worth it. Please, you pray to yourself, please love it. 

Close your eyes and gimme your hand, you say and she listens, palm open in front of your face. You place the scroll in her hand and she gasps. She whips around to face you, shock written all over her, and you giggle. She unrolls the painting and her head instantly falls back, tears jerking behind her glasses. 

Are you seriously crying right now! You pull her tight to your chest and she sobs into your neck, C’mon, baby, stop cryin’! S’okay. You coo and her arms tighten around your waist. 

D-D’you like it? Your face burns when you whisper. 

Are you fucking serious! She squeaks into your neck, It’s beautiful, baby, I love it. T-Thank you—

I love you so much, you mumble, and she says it back. 

You haven’t slept at all. Your body’s going to collapse soon. You hope it’s not during this phone call. 

You ogle at the small card in your hand, pressing the digits into your device before hitting the call button. It rings twice before a bright voice answers. 

“Hello, this is Lisa Meyers speaking. How can I be of service?”

… Interesting intro. “Good morning, um, Professor Meyers?” 

“Yes, how can I help you?” 

“I… we spoke at the coffee shop yesterday. About the… assisting art professors alumni thing.” 

“Oh, of course! How are you, dear?”

“I’m good. Um… I was wondering if you’d have some time to speak with me about it... If that’s cool.”

You can hear her wide smile through the line, “More than cool! Would you be able to come into the office tomorrow?” 

An extra day in the city wouldn’t hurt (it would), “No problem. What time were you thinkin’?” 

“My mornings are always open! How does ten sound?” 

“Sounds like a plan. Uh, thank you,” you say with twitchy fingers. 

“Course, hun! I’ll put you in and I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

You never expected to end up back here. 

The campus art studio looks exactly the same, only now the old portraits, sculptures, ceramics that were lined up on shelves of the display case are all replaced with new, nameless ones. You’re not used to seeing projects that you couldn’t attach a name to in the classroom. Your university years never feel that long ago, but the randomly placed structures are proof of your long-term absence. 

Time is an illusion… Or you’re getting old as fuck and about to be lowered into the ground. Freshmen make you sick(affectionately). 

Professor Meyers explained the position well enough for you to manage on your own. The work you’re doing isn’t difficult: oversee, assist in grading, oversee some more, oversee, and guide. You’re practically getting a check for being the already observant individual that you are. It’s a steal! 

The position only lasts around a month, but Professor Meyers was convinced that it would only take someone as talented as you (her words… although you agree) a week to get on her toes. You vowed to bring your sketchbook every day from here on out, both to yourself and to her, in case you get the inkling of inspiration that you desperately need. 

The job’s a small win. That’s all you could ask for right now. 

Fuck all that shit you said at the start of the week. TAing fucking sucks. And you still haven’t had any inspiration despite all the efforts from the students! Whenever you pick up a utensil, you stab through your paper. You’ve officially lost your touch. You’re a regular bitch with no talent! What the fuck is going on! 

You’ve had numerous breakdowns in bathroom stalls since Monday, and you’re bound to have another one in the next fifteen seconds. Why the fuck did so many students leave their filled water cups on the fucking tables. Guess who has to clean all that shit up! You! Fuck freshman(unaffectionately). 

You’re so happy the halls are empty in between rotations. No one needs to watch you sobbingly wipe down tables splattered with paint. 

After Professor Ronson’s room is tidy, you start prepping the board for the next rotation of students. They’re learning about anatomy today; There’s bound to be at least three students that scribble tiny dicks in the corner of their starter pages. You hate it here. 

You open the drawer to retrieve all the sharpeners, only to find the container completely empty. You’re sick of the animators not putting shit back. You begrudgingly make your way back down the hall and into Professor Lacey’s room… You should’ve never left.

Your lungs constrict with your gasp and you almost drop your keys. 

A just as shocked Ellie gawks back at you, laminated name tag with YEARBOOK dangling from the camera strap around her neck. 

What the fuck.

Ellie’s either hallucinating or dead. Yeah… She has to be dead. The haunting of your email was too much and she died and now she’s seeing shit—

An angel disguised as you is staring back at her, fist clenched under the sleeves of your sweater, brown eyes just as stunned as hers. Ellie barely has time to gather words before the chains hooked onto the pockets of your jeans jingle as you step out of the room and scurry down the hallway. Ellie’s feet are flying before she can even register their movements, hot on your trail as her camera bounces on her chest. 

She manages to get close enough to grab your bicep, ignoring the stuttering in her heart when she sees the former light in your eyes replaced with something darker. The flourishing storm in your pupils is uncontrollable. 

Ellie drops your arm when she realizes you won’t run, “W-What are you doing here?” 

Your gaze is locked onto the tile squares on the ground. “I-I’m, uh… just enjoyin’ the weather— “

Ellie’s brows pull downward, eyes flicking towards the badge wrapped around your neck. Do you work here? “We’re indoors.” She mumbles dryly. 

“Nothin’ like… the spring rain hittin’ the windows, am I right?“ You huff with a nervous smile, eyes flitting around the hallway as you search for an escape. Ellie’s not having that. 

“We needa talk.” 

You sigh, “I can’t. I’m working.” 

“So am I. Take your break,” Ellie grabs your wrist and drags you back down the hallway, leading you to the bathroom and pushing you into a stall, locking the door behind her. 

Her voice is quiet when she presses, “The fuck are you doing here?” 

Ellie expects you to snap, to push the same questioning back onto her, but you don’t. Your mouth gapes like a fish as you stumble over words. Ellie’s eyes soften when she sees a shaky hand come up to pin a loc behind your ear. You’re shaken up and she instantly notices something off. Your demeanor has shifted immensely since she last seen you and it’s making Ellie’s stomach twist with discomfort. She's never seen you this stunted. 

“What.” Ellie asks when you mumble to the floor. 

“I’m sorry about the email,” You sound winded, “I thought… I dunno. I’m sorry about everythin’.” Your lip starts to quiver as you ramble, “I would’ve never come if I knew, I’m sorry— “ 

… What the hell are you talking about? And why are you crying? 

You sniffle and wipe your tears with your sleeves and Ellie’s fingers itch to comfort, to dry your face herself, but she doesn’t. She watches you weep into your palms for what feels like hours, the air of the restroom suffocatingly tight. 

“I didn’t mean to ruin anything you h — had going on, okay? I’m sorry… I’ll leave right now! You’ll never have to see me again— “

Your sobs are stressing her, “G-Gimme your phone.” Ellie blurts. 

You're already digging in your pocket for your device to unlock it, “W-Why— “

Ellie snatched it from your hand, heart pulling when she sees a photo of younger you being carried by a woman shoved in your case. The same face that was littered all over your apartment, “You wanted to talk so bad, right?” Ellie presses her new number into the pad and calls herself, “You have my number. My…” 

When she looks up, her words get swallowed up; Your eyes still manage to glow under the… horrific bathroom lighting, glittering like stars in the late night. She clears her throat to catch herself, “My shift ends at four. Call me any time after that.” 

Ellie hurries to unlock the stall before leaving you in the bathroom, heart in her throat as she heaves all the way down the hallway to the lounge, shaking her hands to get the jitters out. 

She knew she should’ve never accepted a call from the alumnus association. Fuck the yearbook. 

You clock out with a heavy, anxious heart. 

Three students came up to you and asked for advice on their starter shapes. They were a bit upset when their circles didn’t come out perfect, and you almost cried. It was too sweet. Your bag bounces off your back as you descend the staircase to exit the building. The droplets hit your hood with fever as you skip to your car. You jump into the driver’s seat to turn the heat on, teeth chattering from the evening breeze. 

You check the time on your dash and… it’s way past four. You hope Ellie’s willing to meet. You dial the most recent number and tremble as the phone rings. She answers after the second tone. 

“Hello?” 

She sounds so relaxed, and your shoulders unlock, “… Hi. It’s… me?” 

A lengthy pause, “… Me who?” 

You hide a snort, “Um… ex-roomie?” She chuckles lightly. “Hi.”

“… Hi.” You whisper, “Did you, um… still wanna talk to me?” You think you hear the click of a lighter. 

“Mhm. I’ll send you where I stay at.” 

“Okay… I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yup.” And with that, the line goes dead. Ellie’s location delivers not even a minute later. Her hotel isn’t far from here. . . and fuck, it looks like wealth. Your nerves are nowhere near settled after your last attempt at reconciliation, and paranoia is itching beneath your skin. 

You open your GPS and blast your screamo playlist, hollering your way down the street with your windows down, rain be damned. 

You’re burning holes through Ellie’s hotel room door. 

You haven’t knocked, you haven’t rang. . . you're not even sure if your text of arrival went through. You just stare at the peephole with a clenched jaw. This big bag of Cool Ranch Doritos is doing an excellent job as a stress ball. It’s bound to pop from your grip soon.

Your bladder almost lets loose when the door gets pulled open, nostrils instantly hit with wafts of that forbidden flower. You’re pulled through the small crack by a strong grip before the door is shut and locked behind you. 

Ellie faces you, bare arms on display, and leans back against the door… in those fucking grey sweats. After all this time, they still cause damage to your soul, “Sorry. I don’t wanna get kicked out.” 

“It’s… you’re good.” You point behind her, trying not to gawk at her tattoo, “How’d you know— “

“You breathe loud.” She says simply, tone hushed and raspy. She nods behind you, “Sit down.” 

She follows you to the lounge chairs that face each other. You sit, still tense, suddenly back in therapy, “I-I brought you somethin’.” You push the crumpled bag of chips towards her as she relights her joint. 

Her pink, doe-eyes flit between yours and the bag before she mumbles, “Thank you.” 

“No problem…” You awkwardly set them on the windowsill, swallowing your guilt and deciding to take initiative, “I… I know you have a lot of things going on and I don’t wanna take up too much of your time… I’m just…” 

The loud splattering of raindrops is nerve-wracking, “I wasn’t… I didn’t treat you well. College was a very hard time for me and I didn’t really know how to deal with it without being a bitch—” 

Carbon leaves her nose, “Is that your excuse?”

“N-No, no! I’m not… I’m not tryna avoid blame. I was terrible and you — no one deserved what I put them through… I-I’m really sorry, Ellie… From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry.”

Ellie’s silent. You have no idea what she’s thinking; She could be plotting to get you kicked out of her room right now and you wouldn’t know. Her stare isn’t angry, it isn’t anything… she just watches you. Every squeeze of your hands, bounce of your knee, every tic photographed in her memory. Just like before. 

“Why're you back on campus?” 

You exhale the breath you’d been holding, “Um… I gotta, like, TA job, I guess. With the art profs.”  

“Still doing art, then, I guess.”

You stare down at your lap, “Yeah. Trying to.” You croak. 

“Trying?” She asks, brows furrowed. Your shoulders bounce in a shrug. “I, err, hadn’t made anything in a while so… yeah. I thought it’d get me back into it.” 

“Are you?” 

“Hm?”

“Are you back into it?” 

“I don’t know yet.” 

“Why were you so upset when I moved out?” Ellie’s tone shifts into something much more delicate, ready to crack and bleed open at any given moment. You can’t tell her, your brain bellows over the pleads from your heart. You can’t tell her how much you missed her!

Your jaw slacks dumbly as you search for a believable explanation, mind blanking under her scrutinizing stare. 

“I was drunk. I-I don’t remember…” 

“You were drunk and don’t remember.” You cringe at her tone. 

“Ellie… I don’t wanna— “

“Don’t wanna what? Actually be fucking honest?” Your babbles are silenced as she rants. “You reached out to me and you can’t even answer one question honestly. Why’d you even come?” She seems so disappointed in your response, but what can you do? Tell her how every part of your body yearns to be next to her? How you almost collapse when you saw her for the first time in what felt like an eternity? How manipulative would that be after everything you’ve done?

Ellie’s index finger jumps on the armrest as silence takes over once more. She’s deep in thought, it seems, teeth nipping at the skin of her lip. 

“Ellie— “

“When I moved out…” She repeats sternly, “you told me you didn’t want me to go. Why did you say that?” 

It’s on the tip of your tongue: because I’m weak and I like you! I’m sorry I didn’t fight! I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I’m sorry! 

“B-Because I didn’t want you to go…” You whisper between sniffles, wiping your nose with your sleeve. 

“Why's that?” 

“I… really liked having you around…” You chose your words very carefully, but they’re not a lie. “You’re… you’re really nice.” 

That seems to satisfy her a little, “I’m really nice?” Ellie’s brow quirks, a tiny smile blossoming on her face. 

“And funny.” You sob, “Like, I laughed a lot.” 

“You’re funny, too,” Ellie says awkwardly while scratching her ear. Your heart pulses. 

Her eyes search yours, “I didn’t know how I would react when you got here. The thought of seeing you really… fucking freaked me out.” She scoffs to herself, and your shoulders begin to droop. “But… um...” She pauses and your pulse pounds in your neck. Tears brim in your ducts. This is when she tells you to leave. To fuck off. To drop dead, for fucks sake—

“I’m glad you reached out.” 

You gawk in disbelief before your bottom lip trembles, “Really?” You ask meekly. She simply nods. 

“Me, too.” You’re really trying not to cry right now, but the softness in her gaze isn’t helping. She’s too sweet. You change the topic before you say something you’ll regret. You point to the bag of chips, “I really hope you like that flavor. I just grabbed it because I was overthinking.” 

“I don’t know why you bought those. I still owe you a bag from what I remember,” She grabs them, squeezing the end until the other side pops open. She grabs four ships and crunches them all at once before extending the bag to you. You follow her lead and munch to your heart's content. 

“I was never mad at you, y’know.” Ellie sets the bag down and reignites her roach. “I wasn’t, uh, innocent, either. We both fucked up,” She puffs and hands it to you. You've never smoked bud before, only stole a couple of Abby’s edibles a while back. She vowed never to smoke with you since you’re a tweaker. 

You accept the charred-to-hell baby jay and stare at it. You shrug, “Wasn’t worse than me. How do I do this without burning my finger off?” 

“Err… just breathe in and hold it.” She instructs. “Have you never gotten high?” 

“I have. I don't— “

“Oh, yeaaah. Non-smoker. Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you mumble before bringing the remnants up to your lips and sucking in. Nothing happens. Ellie snickers, “Not like that. It’s not a fucking lollipop. Just, like, fill your cheeks up and hold it.” 

… Are you an idiot? “I don’t know what that means.” Ellie cackles like a witch at your lost expression, nearly falling over in her chair. Your cheeks burn and you try again, cheeks expanding to fill in the smoke. The second you inhale, you start choking, eyes bulging out of your skull from the burn in your chest. 

Ellie finds your near-death experience fucking hysterical as she hollers from her seat. Tears stream down your face and the veins in your neck are bulging as you gasp for air. You’re never doing this shit again. Your lungs finally decide to spare you when Ellie passes you water from her dresser. You gulp that shit down like no tomorrow as Ellie’s giggles dwindle. 

“What the,” cough, “fuck— “

“Fucking baby lungs,” Ellie mumbles with a grin. “You’ll be fine after a couple tries.” 

You chug more water, “Girl… fuck you.” You gasp. Ellie’s grin turns cocky when her head tilts. 

“Fuck me?” Her voice lowers and goosebumps rise on your skin. Your heart stops in your chest and your gaze falls to the floor as your tummy swirls in delight, cheeks fiery. You stand and Ellie sits up at your sudden alertness. 

“Um… Like I said, thank you for taking the time to talk to me today. I really appreciate it.” Ellie stands to grab your arm when your feet slowly start backing towards the door. 

Her smile drops, “I-I’m sorry. I was just kidding—” 

“No, it’s fine! It’s not you! I just, uh… y’know what I mean?” 

“… No.” She mumbles, “You don’t… have to go yet. You just got here.” She chuckles weakly. 

“I just… don’t wanna… pry.” You whisper like it’s shameful. Ellie’s head shakes in denial, “You’re not! I’m… inviting you.” 

Your eyes beg her to understand where you’re coming from. It’s not like you don’t want to, but the two of you just got back cool three seconds ago. The last thing you want to do is force yourself back into her life. Your relationship needs time to marinate and heal before anything else happens… if she allows it. 

“I… I still miss Pickle?” You suggest with bright eyes, and Ellie’s soften despite her confusion. “Would it be okay if I see her?” You ask quietly. 

Her mouth turns upwards, “How long are you in town?” 

“I don’t know… These hotel bills are runnin’ my credit in the fucking mud.” You sigh. 

“She’s with my dad right now. Come this weekend. I’m outta here on Friday, anyways.” She suggests, cheeks glowing in the dimming room. You hope Ellie doesn’t notice your dejection at the mention of her father… It still stings. Her eyes are so hopeful, meadows flurrying with excitement… and you can’t say no. 

“…Okay.” 

“Yeah?” She confirms, smile widening. You nod. “She misses you like crazy.” Ellie notes and tears get to cooking. You think about Pickle every day. Little munchkin. 

“I miss her, too.” You sniffle. The hand that rests on your bicep slowly slides down your sleeve, closing around your wrist. Not strong, but her hold is steady. Ellie whispers your name. 

“Hm?” 

“I’m glad we’re… okay.” Your heart soars with adoration. Her eyes explore your face in admiration, and your body glows. 

“Me, too. Thank you.” Ellie’s gentle gaze drops to your lips and you stiffen. Your hands clench when she moves an inch closer. It kills you to move away, and an inkling of hurt overcasts in her forest. She lets you go and backs away, “Sorry— “

Your head shakes desperately, “S’okay, I just think we should… move… slower?” You never fail to sound like an alien who just arrived on Earth, but Ellie seems to get it. 

“Yeah, I… yeah.” Ellie stares at her sock-covered feet, red dusting her cheeks. You try to hide a smile while she walks you towards her door. She opens it for you, propping up against it. 

“See you Friday?” You throw over your shoulder and Ellie grins. “See you Friday.” She parrots. You can’t stop cheesing even after she closes the door. You make your way back into your driver’s seat, heart bleeding with relief. 

MAY, 2014

Her record is clean! I would’ve never expected this from such a great kid, your professor says to your father, But violence, especially to this extreme, is completely unacceptable—

What about what he did to me! You shout, and your father glares at your tone, He put his hands on me first! H-He—

Your body shudders in disgust at the recall of your classmate touching you the way he did. You were on your way to class when hands enclosed around your chest in a tight squeeze, all oxygen leaving your body. It was abrasive and made your skin crawl, and you swung. Your arms moved on their own until you were on top of him, his nose gushing blood while his friends attempted to pry you off. 

There was laughter when he groped you. So many people — students that you see every day — all watched it, and no one came to your defense. 

Your principal sighs with his palms up, I’m just trying to get to the bottom of what happened—

No, you’re not! I already told you what happened and you’re tryna make it seem like I’m lying! You stand and grab your bag off the floor, stomping towards the door to the office, Y’all can choke—

Your dad calls out for you, and your fingers twitch at his tone, but you keep walking, pushing past the double-doors of the school and towards the bike rack. Tears flood your eyes when the double doors slam shut, your father berating you about making a scene in public. You unlock your ride, blocking out his rampage that draws the security guard’s attention. 

He put his hands on me, dad! You shriek as loud as you can between your cries, He put his hands on me! Why’re you yellin’ at me?

I’m not yelling at you! I’m yelling in general! You scoff and swing your leg over your bike, strapping your helmet on, I’m tryna understand what happened! You broke his goddamn nose! They’re boutta suspend you! 

Imma be at Maya’s, you say, monotone. I’ll see you later. 

Amaya isn’t even home. Your dad’s hollering his lungs out as you ride down the sidewalk, but you block it all out until the wind fills your ears like a monsoon. You’re not sure where you’re going, but it’s somewhere. 

Hopefully somewhere you can cry to yourself without disturbance. 

-

-

-

It’s your first day back at school since being suspended. Fuck everybody… except Amaya and Ceniyah. You probably would’ve switched schools if it wasn’t for them. You can’t wait to see them during lunch and tell them how fucked up it’s been staying at home. 

Today has been weird as fuck, to say the least. Friends that you’ve grown used to talking to in the hallways have either disappeared or ignored you. It’s quiet around you, now, and you’re on edge. What the fuck is going on?

Walking into the cafeteria is frightening. It’s always loud, rowdy, hectic, but the minute you step foot inside, everything seems to stop. You grip your tray so tight; you think it’s about to snap, frantically searching for your girlfriend. 

But your two favorite people are nowhere to be seen. You wander and come up empty-handed. Where the fuck are they—

Your thoughts are cut when a shoulder shoves right into yours. You throw your tray onto the nearest table. Laughter surrounds you before a snarky voice shriek in your ears.

Watch where the fuck you’re going, 

No, you watch where the fuck you’re going. Dumb ass bitch, You spit. You're about to get suspended for knocking this broad out. Who even is this? 

Coming from the slut who cheated on her girlfriend! Are you sure you’re a lesbian? Or are you going back to dick? 

The entire room seems to collapse from top to bottom, crushing you beneath clutter in attempts to suffocate. You freeze when everyone turns to stare at the scene, some standing to surround you, hoping to see a fight. You release a shuddering breath as your fist clench. 

… Cheated on your girlfriend? You love your girlfriend. You’re in love with your girlfriend, and she’s in love with you! What the fuck is this bitch talking about. 

I think she’s going back to dick! One of them laughs, and the rest follow, and the entire room glows red. 

Your knuckles are drenched in the color when your dad comes to pick you up. 

PRESENT

Maybe being a TA is helping. You’ve finally pulled your sketchbook out of your work bag. 

The point of your fine liner hovers over a blank page of your sketchbook. You can’t stop thinking about Ellie, and you don’t have many distractions. 

It’s been so long since you’ve created anything, and frankly, your ass is clenched with anxiety. Never in your life would you think that creating art would wrack your nerves in such a way, but your insecurities are working hard. Probably the hardest they ever have. Once upon a time, your sketchbook was your safe haven, and now the feeling of blank pages feels like needles. 

What if you’ve… lost your talent? You can see everything you want to make clearly in your head but your pen isn’t moving. The attempts at reigniting your passion would be pointless if you can no longer fucking draw. Your fingers are itching. 

Maybe you should try that corny shit from the movies where they close their eyes and move their utensils on pure muscle memory… Maybe you should do fucking shrooms! Visuals always peak on psyches, according to the experts. At this point, why the fuck not— 

“Son of a fucking — this is fucking stupid, bitch, jus’ fuckin’ draw,” you mutter to yourself in agitation. Just fucking draw! You do this! You do this, you do this!

Minutes pass and your paper is mussed with smudged, small ink marks from constantly moving your pen around, trying to find the right angle. Another piece of paper gone to waste. You fucking suck. You slam your pen down on the table. 

You stand and start to pace, “Positive affirmations only,” You remind yourself aloud, “You got this shit, like, what the fuck. Everything’s gonna come back to you. You’re in a funk and tha’sit. It’ll pass, it’ll pass— “

Whoever your hotel neighbor is… Praying for their sleep schedule. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, kiddo. Sorry I missed your call. Your pet knocked out on my hand.” 

Ellie giggles, “It’s cool. How ya been?”

“Fine… She’s a rascal, ain’t she? I found her head first in one of my flower pots. Her tiny legs were wiggling tryna get herself out,” His chuckles are like warm hugs, “How’s work?”

Ellie’s cackles calm, “Also fine… Err…Um… speaking of Pickle…” 

Her dad hums, and Ellie sighs, “Remember when I told you about how I found her?” 

“Yeah… You and that girl found the poor thing freezing to death outside… Why?”

“… Would you believe me if I said we somehow reunited by the grace of God and she’s coming back with me tomorrow?” Ellie squeaks, and her confidence drops when he exhales. It sounds heavy. 

“Um… for what?” 

“To see Pickle…”

“…Alright.”

“What’re you thinkin’,” She nips at her nails. 

“Nothin’…” 

“Dad…” 

“I dunno what you want me to say, darlin’… Everything you’ve told me about her so far wasn’t… great to hear.” 

Ellie rolls onto her back, “Yeah… I dunno. Something’s different about her now.” 

“How so?” 

She can’t tell him how badly your shielded eyes have taken a toll on her. How desperately she wants them to revert to the shining rivers they used to be. How badly her chest ached when you left her room last night, “I dunno. It just is…” She mutters weakly. Another heavy sigh. 

“I mean… You’re an adult. I can’t tell you what to do anymore.” 

“Don’t be like that, please.” 

“Not being like anything. I can only accept.” 

Ellie’s hand drags down her face in exasperation. The rants she relinquished onto her dad about you are making her nauseas. 

“Just… be nice to her, please.” He hums begrudgingly. 

“Dad, I’m serious. I feel like we… could be friends.” 

“Friends… Alright.” He sounds skeptical, but he isn’t combative. She hopes he’ll keep it together when he sees you, “How should I plan for this friend when she gets here?”

Ellie smiles sadly, “Make eggplant parmesan…”

Her dad snorts, “… Since when do you like eggplant?” 

Ellie grins, “I don’t.” 

Why can’t black roses be real? 

Ellie doesn’t seem like a flower girl, but she has a gigantic leaf imprinted on her arm for the rest of her life; She must appreciate the autotroph kingdom. Your mother always told you how fucked it is to enter people’s homes empty handed. Walmart usually pulls through with the awkward housewarming gifts, but they’re slacking in their garden selection today. Fuck your life. 

You’re forced to settle on peonies… They’re pretty and all, but you’d prefer alliums for her. Maybe even a carnation. Plus, Amaya always told you to never buy flowers that sound like penis. 

Amaya… Are you really about to break down in the frozen food section? Maybe. It’s time to go. You're shocked to find out you have more than ten dollars on your card. Fuck hotels, from the depths of your soul. 

You set your purchase in the passenger’s side and pull up Ellie’s pinged location. She left way earlier than you. You would’ve carpooled, but you couldn’t miss these hours for this paycheck. How are you a struggling student and not even in school? 

The drive is going to be long. 

At least you have time to scream out your frustrations. 

“Hey, Siri.” 

… UH HUH?

“Play This Cold Black by Slipknot.” 

PLAYING THIS COLD BLACK BY SLIPKNOT. 

Your head thrashes as you back out of your parking spot. 

“WELCOME HOOO— “

The ride wasn’t long enough, actually. Ellie’s dad’s house is right there. Like… right fucking there, and your voice is almost gone. Clouds are beginning to roll in over the neighborhood. The universe is fucking with you. Great. 

You dump the last bits of water into the thirty-dollar, peony-stuffed vase before exiting your car, backpack strapped over your shoulder. You climb the brick staircase with a pounding heart. 

“Okay,” You croak, “Hi. Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. I heard my — our cat was with you—“ You rehearse and cringe. Why are you pressing him about a cat in his domain? 

“Fuck, okay, wait,” You try again, “Hi, Mr. Miller, I’m Ellie’s, uh, friend. We were roommates some time ago— “ 

Some time ago? Who the fuck are you? Shakespeare? Emily fucking Brontë? Get a fucking grip. 

You almost drop the fucking vase when the door opens. Your coughs are uncontrollable when you see Ellie, eyes flicking between you and the ring light camera. Why the fuck does she look so good? Cartier watch, black button up and slacks, hair… neat. She’s about to trigger your asthma! 

“Uh… you okay?” She questions flatly. You’re still choking on your own esophagus, but you send her two thumbs up anyway. You’re great! Terrific! Immediately scared shitless when a… big ass man holding a black furball creeps up behind her. He’s not as dolled-up as Ellie and it makes you less insecure. Why the fuck do you have this hoodie on? You should’ve at least worn some trousers! 

“Nice to meet you.” His voice sounds like grovel. Gravel? You can’t fucking think right now! He adjusts Pickle in his grasp so he can extend a polite hand out to you, “I’m Joel. I’m Ellie’s father,” He sounds courteous, but there’s something simmering beneath his pupils as he stares at you. 

His grip is strong when you accept it. You’re going to vomit, “I-I’m — I mean, hi, I’m, uh… Me’n Ellie used to live together—“ You sound like a frog who just learned how to speak. 

“I’ve been told.” He hums.

Meow!

You almost start bawling at your baby’s cry. She's so big now and her coat is so shiny! She’s eating well. Ellie accepts the flowers with dusted cheeks before stepping aside and allowing you entry. You’re instantly hit with the smell of garlic… Can the whole bloodline throw down in the kitchen? 

“Nice home!” You crack and cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. They both say thanks in unison, but her father’s is gruff while Ellie’s is delicate like petals. She can’t stop staring down at the flowers. Joel finally sets Pickle down so he can head back into the kitchen, and she follows him without hesitation. 

She doesn’t remember you. Your heart shatters. 

“Thank you for the flowers,” You hear Ellie say from beside you. You swallow the lump forming in your throat with a smile. “No problem… You look, um, great.” And you smell like heaven. Like clouds before the rain. 

Her face gets redder and she grins behind petals, “Thank you. I got called in today. For… editing and whatnot.”  

You snicker, “Whatnot?” 

“Shut up. C’mon.” You follow her into the kitchen where she sets the vase in the middle of the dining table before waddling towards her dad, who stands over the stove. You stand back and watch as she playfully punches his upper arm while he stirs the simmering pot, cracking jokes amongst themselves while Pickle paws at Ellie’s calf. Your doting smile vanishes at their laughter; What a little happy family. Are you breathing? 

You turn to face the living room and breathe in as deep as you can, eyes glued to their maroon couch. You crack your knuckles and release the wind in your lungs before repeating. 

“You’re okay, it’s okay. You knew what it was before you came,” you whisper to yourself. Ellie mentioned how close her and her dad were way before you got here, so why is the pain in your chest so sharp? 

A hand comes down on your shoulder and you jump, “Sor — fuck, sorry — “

“Are you okay?” Ellie asks, concerned. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! Jus’ looking around,” You laugh shakily and note the large paper crane on the TV stand. You point at it, “That’s so cool! Did you make that? I love origami.” 

“No, my dad did— “

Fuck, “Oh— “

“Yeah, um— “

“D-Do you have a restroom?” 

She observes with worry, “… Yeah, right down that hall, to the left— “

“Thank you, BRB,” You’re practically running to the fucking bathroom. The door closes and locks and you pace. They have a nice shower curtain: black and white stripes. You count them all from top to bottom. 

“Your dad’s dead, fucking relax, it’s been like that, it’s been like that,” You exhale shakily, tremors building in your hands, “You’re fine, you’re fine, calm the fuck down.” You unzip your hoodie and ball it up before shoving your face in it. Your screams into it are muffled. 

You come up for air and stare into the mirror, “You’re fucking fine. The food smells good as fuck and you’re gonna eat and you’re fine.” You open the door and… kitty’s staring at you. She’s sitting pretty and inspecting your disheveled appearance. 

“Hi, baby. Remember me?” You squat and stick your hand out to her. She sniffs curiously before nipping at your pinky. “Ow,” you coo with a smile. 

“She remembers you.” 

Ellie’s leaning against the wall with her arms folded over her chest. You need her to stomp the fuck out of you with affection; She looks so fucking good, fuck—

“I hope,” you squeak and cough. It scares the shit out of Pickle and she runs. 

Ellie’s gaze lingers on your bare arms. “Can we talk for a sec?”

“Yup.” Sound casual, you think. You sprinkle a shrug in there. She nods before heading down the hall and entering the last door. You can’t hide your shocked expression at the scenery. 

Every inch of the room is covered in posters, most of them about galaxies and all their intricacies. There’s a red racecar bed covered in Regular Show sheets and pillowcases and a bunch of stuffed animals, dresser covered with discarded sticker papers and seemingly empty polaroid cameras. There are fairy lights dangling from the ceiling before coming down and around the bed frame, across the closet, and finally slung over her dresser. There’s little action figures and trinkets everywhere. 

The door closes behind you, “… Is this your room?” 

Ellie snorts, “It was. Not anymore.” 

You laugh, “I’m fuckin’ with it. That bed is crazy, though.” Ellie joins in, scratching at her ear. She takes a few steps until she’s in front of you, still at a distance. Thank God; Any closer and your celibacy goes down the drain. 

“Sorry I only brought flowers. I would’ve brought fucking… cake or something if I knew y’all were gonna cook.” Ellie waves you off. 

“The flowers were pretty. Thank you.” 

Your entire face is on fire, “Y’know what I mean…” You cough. 

“Um… I just wanted to talk to you about something. About my dad.” 

There’s a hole in your chest that’s expanding. She takes your silence as attentive, “He can be really overprotective… like, he’s kinda stubborn.”

“Oh… I see where you get it from,” You laugh weakly, clearing your throat when Ellie doesn’t. “Sorry.” You mumble. Ellie looks down at her feet, “Does he not… like me?” You ask quietly, embarrassed out of your fucking mind. 

“It’s not that, he’s just… I told him a little of what happened between us. Not everything, just some of it!” 

“The… bad part, I’m assuming?” Her silence is enough confirmation. 

Ellie looks like Pickle when she’s guilty. You remember when she hopped onto the counter and knocked over your water cup, eyes large and pleading for forgiveness over the mess she caused. 

“M’not mad,” You mumble, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.” Probably is used very strongly. 

“I’m sorr— “

“It’s okay— “

A knock comes from the other side of the door. 

“Come eat, you two!” 

“Coming!” Ellie yells back before rubbing her hands together. “I’m really— “ 

“Ellie, it’s fine,” You reassure her with a light slap on her bicep… It’s quite hard. “C’mon, uh… I’m hungry?” You brush past her and head towards the door, holding it open for her. “After you?”

Ellie reminds you of a strawberry milk squishmallow when she eases past you, trying to hide her smile and pink cheeks. Your cheeks puff as you release the air in your lungs, shutting her door behind you. 

This is the best eggplant parmesan you’ve ever tasted in your goddamn life. Too bad you can’t enjoy it due to Ellie’s hardcore mobster dad sending you deadly glares from across the table. He hasn’t said a word this entire meal, and you’re not anticipating the minute he does. He’s going to blow a gasket. 

“D’you like it?” Ellie says lowly from beside you. You nod your head with two thumbs up. You can’t hide your smile when you notice all the gooey cheese and noodles eaten off the pieces of eggplant. 

“It’s delicious. Thanks Mr. Miller.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He sounds like he means it. Your heart drops and Ellie scowls at him. Your fingers clench around your fork and you scarf down what you can. It’s so good and you’re so scared and you want this meal to be over. 

You're the last to clean your plate so you stand in a rush, gathering all of the plates and spoons off the table before scurrying to the sink. 

Ellie pads close behind you, “Oh, you don’t have to— “

You cut Ellie off with a nervous laugh, “The least I could do.” The dishes clatter and you grab a sudsy sponge. You waste no time, scrubbing the living hell out of these dishes. 

“Go sit down, Ellie.” 

The hairs on the back of your neck stand at his stern tone, “Wha— “

He slices through her refute, and still manages to sound calm, “Go.” 

You continue to scrub, sighing at Ellie's descending stomps. Joel creeps into the open space in front of the sink, grabbing a dish and another sponge. 

“Ellie told me you’re an artist.” He mutters over the running water.

“Yeah. Sorta.” You reply as calmly as you can. 

“What are your intentions with my daughter?” He gets right to it, it seems. You scrub harder. 

“Just… tryna make things right between us.” 

“Why's that?” 

Word vomit. You can’t help yourself. You’re so fucking nervous. “I-I fuc — sorry — I screwed over someone that was… really great. Your daughter’s a sweetheart and I feel awful with how things left off.” You stumble with a heated face. You catch the arch in his eyebrow and back pedal, “Not like we were — we weren’t dating or anything! Like, not like that! We just — “

“I was a student once upon a time. I know how these things go.” He snickers humorlessly. Your shoulders relax a smidge before he asks, “Why now?” 

“Hm?” 

“Why’d you wait so long to talk to her? The two of you graduated forever ago.” His tone is much calmer than it was seconds ago, but anxiety surges in your gut at his questioning. 

“I didn’t wanna reach out without being in the right headspace. I had… a lot going on and I had to handle it. Therapy���s hard as fu — heck,” You sigh, “I still don’t think I’m doin’ a good job, but… I dunno, it earned me a Michelin star eggplant parm. Must be doing something right.” 

You don’t expect Joel to laugh, but he does. It’s hearty and deep. Very dad-esque. Your heart crushes to dust all over again. 

“Look, kid,” Joel sets the clean plate in the rack before grabbing another, “I wasn’t gonna say much, but Ellie seems to like you… a lot. More than most people.” Your heart flurries back into shape at his observation. You want to ask what a lot means exactly, but he continues. 

“She’s… she gets very attached to people. I know it’s hard to believe but she’s very… sensitive,” His voice is low, but he’s not bullshitting in the slightest. The protective aura has returned and it’s radiating back onto you, pushing you back. Keeping you at a distance from him. From Ellie, “I’m never gonna shit on anyone’s journey, but frankly… if you’re not here to stay, I’d suggest leaving her alone now.”

This is definitely a threat. But you don’t feel threatened. You feel… sad. Joel is doing what any great dad would when faced with an outsider: armoring his cubs by any means. Something you’ve never experienced. If meeting Joel has shown you anything, it’s been what you’ve missed out on your entire life. Little does he know the last thing you want to do is separate from Ellie a second time. Another breakdown is bound to crash into you very soon. You forgot where the bathroom was. 

You’re not going anywhere. Your heart won’t allow it. “I’m— “

You’re interrupted by a loud rumble, instantly followed by the heavy droplets of pouring rain. It sounds like pebbles are being thrown at all windows of their home; Is it hailing? 

“Holy shit,” Ellie calls from the living room window, “Was it supposed to storm tonight?” 

“Yeah, it was on the news,” Joel confirms. Ellie rushes over and points her eyes to you. 

“You’re not driving in that.” She breathes out. Your heart fist pumps, but you maintain nonchalance. 

You shrug awkwardly, “I don’t wanna pry— “ 

“Nah, she’s right. We have a guest room.” Joel sighs, “Ellie, show her where it is. I’ll finish up in here.” 

Ellie’s hand closes around your wrist before guiding you down the hall. The bathroom’s right across from the guest room. On the left side, you note. 

“Fuck a guest room. You’re staying with me.” She mumbles and opens the cupboard. She grabs you some sleep shorts and presumably her father’s sweatshirts. You try to convince yourself that the strong pounds in your chest are from fear of the storm, and not at all from a lesbian slumber party. 

… Fuck. 

The storm is roaring outside. And Ellie’s chiefing in neon astronaut jammies. This feels like a fever dream. 

“They glow in the dark.” Ellie hums around a cloud of smoke from where she sits across from you on the bed. You pause your gawking, “Huh?”

“My pjs glow in the dark. Wanna see?” Her eyes sparkle and your heart sprouts legs and sprints around in your ribcage. 

“Fuck yeah.” You gasp. Ellie’s teeth shine before she puts her joint between her lips and leans across her bed to shut her lamp off. Every fiber of your being tries to not lock onto the smidge of skin that appears from under her sweatshirt when she stretches. The room goes dark around the neon pink and green outlines of the design. You choke out a laugh at the pigmentation; How the fuck are they so bright!

“Sorry if this is boring. I’ve never had a sleepover before.” 

“Shut up, that’s cool as fuck! You gotta battery pack in there or somethin’?” Ellie giggles out a no. A smile stretches wide across your face when you look up at her, hers just as bright. “Are you sleepy?” You ask. 

“Not at all,” she hums as she switches the lamp back on. 

“We could play a gaaame,” You suggest sing-songy. 

“Oh, fuck. Like what.” Ellie huffs a laugh. 

“Truth or dare is a sleepover classic— “

“I’m not licking a toilet seat.” Ellie states flatly. Laughter explodes from you at her face. “I’m not a crazy dare-er like that. The most you’ll have to do is prank call an ex or some shit.” 

“I don’t have an ex.” 

“Oh… Well, a family member.” Ellie nods in acceptance. “Can I ask first?” She asks. 

“Mhm. Lay it on me.” 

“Truth or dare?” 

“Dare.” 

“Show me what’s in your backpack.” 

“…Fuck.” You sigh, and Ellie cackles. “Were you planning this shit?” You ask and stand, walking over to the dresser where your bag sits. You grab it and hand it to her. She wastes no time, stubbing her joint out before rummaging through your shit, sifting through loose-leaf paper and markers used for coloring. You plop down onto her bed and she pulls out your sketchbook. 

“Is it okay if I look?” 

“I dunno,” You smirk, “Can I finally see your fucking portfolio?” 

“Come home with me tomorrow,” she says instantaneously, “It’s there. You can see it.” 

“… Then yes.” 

She flips through pages and pages of visuals you’ve created before your father’s passing. They range from sloppily scribbled orchids, to immaculately shaded depictions of eggplant farms. Ellie giggles when she finds a small comic of Pickle playing with her favorite mouse toy. 

“She still has it.”

“Good,” you whisper. You watch as she studies each page to her heart’s content, fingers dragging across lines that catch her attention. “You’re so good,” she says softly, awestruck and eyes sincere. Your gaze drops to your lap. 

“Thanks,” you match her volume. She hums and flips to the next page. You eye the ashtray on her bed before snagging it, snatching her lighter and igniting the joint. Ellie eyes you like a hawk. 

“I watched a tutorial on how to become a professional pothead… I think I got it down.” 

“Show me.” She whispers and your stomach jolts.

Smoke leaves the lit end of the J and you flick the lighter off. You bring it to your lips and puff your cheeks full of smoke, inhaling as deep as you can before your lungs squeeze. You cough and heave tearfully and Ellie leans in to rub your back. 

“That was better.” She says softly. “I was gonna dare you to hit it anyway.” Your coughing fits calm and you swallow. 

“Shit,” You say. Ellie takes the joint from you and hits it like a fucking pro. She's much closer than she was seconds ago. You examine how her lips curl around the roach, cheeks expanding around carbon before inhaling, allowing the remainder to leave in a bunch of circles. 

“You really blowing O’s right now?” You think you hit it right this time. The jitters you’ve had all day are beginning to dwindle. 

She smiles mischievously, “Mhm.” 

“Truth or dare?” You mumble.

“… Truth.” 

“Did you think about me… after you left?” If you were to lean forward an inch, Ellie’s nose would touch yours. Nose hug. Her face spots are so adorable. 

“Yeah. A lot.” She passes the J back to you and you accept it boldly. You’re releasing your stress with every exhale. Ellie was right; Smoking does feel good. 

“What’d you think about?” 

“Isn’t it my turn?” 

“No.” You smile. 

She shrugs, “I dunno. Just…” Her gaze falls onto her stuffed tabby cat. 

“I feel like you’re boutta say something nasty.” You snicker. 

“Wha — no! The fuck— “

You mock her, rubbing all over yourself, “I thought about your hands, ooo, aaa— “

Ellie smacks your arm a bunch of times before pushing you back onto the bed. You’re howling laughter over her whining, “Bitch, that’s you! Don’t think I forgot about that shit you pulled in the car!”

“You have nice hands! What can I say,” You slur with a dumb grin, “You have, like… classic lesbian hands. All you need is some Hot Topic rings and all the hoes gon’ flock to you.” You take one last toke before the lit end can reach your fingers, stubbing it on the ashtray. 

Ellie seemingly ponders with the theory, “… Is that why a milf ate me out at the club?” 

Your neck almost snaps when it cranes to look at her, “What the fuc— “

“Yeah. Craziest experience I ever had. Like, in my life.” 

“Fuck, Ellie…” Your head flops back onto her Lightning McQueen blankets. “Was it good?” 

“I… I guess. I came.” 

You stare at the star stickers on her ceiling. “You guess?” She only hums. 

“But…”

“Hm?” You urge her to continue. 

“She didn’t… kiss me.” She whispers like it’s dirty to say out loud. You slowly blink at the opaque walls. “I mean, she did, but it wasn’t a real one.” 

“Shame on her.” 

Ellie maneuvers so she’s lying on her back beside you. “Yeah…” 

“Ellie?” 

“Hm?”

“Were you a virgin before I touched you?” 

You expect her to slap the shit out of you again, but she doesn’t. She takes one deep breath before muttering, “Yes.” 

You stop yourself from melting into her bed, turning on your side and propping yourself up on an elbow, gazing down at her. Her eyes are wide as saucers as she looks up at you. You can see her fingers twitching around her pillow, squeezing the fabric of the case. Right on Rigby’s nose. 

“A-Are we still playing truth or dare?” She whispers, her breath hitting your face. She smells like oranges. You shake your head, tongue rolling over your lips. “No.” Your free hand lands on her hip and squeezes. Her jaw slacks around a gasp.

“… Oh.”

“Oh?” You want — need to kiss her so badly. Steal all the oxygen from her lungs so that she has no other choice but to breathe from you. Only you. Your vision is hazy with each travel over her face. She looks so soft, so pliant, so ready and prepared for you to take from her. Just like you hoped. 

Your hand travels, pushing her sweatshirt up just above the waistline of her pants, fiddling with the knot right under her bellybutton. 

You pull at the string until it loosens, “She gave you head?” 

“T-The milf?” 

“Yeah. The milf.” Aggravation seeps through your tone. Ellie’s hips twitch. 

“… Yeah?” She coughs. You hum and hook your thumb under the band and inch them down. They aren’t even off all the way and you can tell she’s naked underneath. 

“How good was it?” 

“I don’t… know?” 

“Yeah you do. How good was it?” You snip, and Ellie winces. “I-I squirted.” She trips over her words and your clit jumps. You don’t say anything, and she seems sad. 

“… Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” Your tone says otherwise. You’re not mad. You don’t know what you are. You don’t like what she’s telling you, though. Fuck milfs… You love them with your entire heart, but fuck them. 

… Yeah. You’re high as shit. 

You sit up and she moves to follow you, but you push her down and she goes limp under your touch. 

“Don’t move. Just lay there.” 

She pouts and you almost kiss it, “Don’t be mad.” 

“I told you I’m not.” You swing a leg over her waist and she sighs dreamily. “How many times did you come.” You’re not asking; She’s going to tell you. You raise her sweatshirt up over her breasts. 

“T-Two — Two.” She moves to throw her sweatshirt over her head but you snatch her wrists, pinning them right on the cushiony mattress. She doesn’t fight you. 

“I want you quiet. Your dad’ll kill me if he hears you.”

Her eyes go glossy and twinkle, “Okay— “ 

“I mean it. Don’t say shit.” 

“M’not gonna,” She whines before her mouth clamps shut. You give her overlapped wrists one last threatening squeeze, watching her fingers go lax before releasing her. You cup her tits and her eyes flutter shut, teeth sinking into her lower lip. You mouth at the valley between her tits and her back arches to follow each swipe of your tongue. 

You kiss all over her ribcage, almost feeling each erratic thump of her heart under your tongue. She keens when your tongue flicks over the rising bud of her nipple, thighs squeezing around your hips. Your mouth latches onto the skin right above her areola, teeth sinking into it before sucking. Her hips raise and she’s breathing like she’s about to faint, and you grin like a fox. 

You don’t let up until a wet maroon mark is left on her tit before swiftly switching to the next one, leaving a much harsher spot on the raised skin. An eager hand scratches down her torso until it brushes the patch of hair that peeks out from under her pants. 

You shove your hand beneath the light cloth and your fingers are drenched in seconds. Your walls squeeze around nothing when you feel her clit jump in excitement. Her squishy lips spread around your middle and index fingers, her throbbing bundle of nerves cinched between them. She keeps making fucking noise and the walls seem to shake. 

“What’d I say.”

“I — m’sorry, can’t h-help i— “

“Be quiet, Ellie.” Your fingers slip over her messy clit in slow, teasing circles. You release her skin until it’s blistering and bruised, quickening the pace of your fingers and she pulses in your hand. Your tongue swirls around her nipple once more, cheeks hollowing when you suckle. 

Your eyes search for hers but her head is thrown back, neck strained and veins popping from beneath her skin. Your lips release the skin and your drippy hand leaves her pants. Your nipples harden under your tee when she reaches for your retreating form, fingers digging into your sweats. 

Her pants are yanked down and tossed across the room, her toes curling in her rainbow-striped socks when your hands hook under her knees to push them up to her chest. Her arms entangle under her bent legs to hold them out of your way. 

“I could fuck you right now with no problems.” You exhale in a daze, “S’fucking drippin’.” You envision how good her pussy will swallow whatever pops in, how easy it’ll stretch around something thick—

Ellie’s eyes shine like you offered her candy and her hole clamps down hard. You chuckle. “You want that?” 

Her head bounces off the pillow in rushed nods. If your mouth wasn’t so fucking dry, you’d be slobbering all over her pussy. “Remember what I said?” You remind her, and she plants a heavy hand over her mouth. You kiss her ankle in appreciation. 

Your fingers move on autopilot, massaging her clit a few more times before inching down, your index pushing past the tight, gripping muscles. Your finger’s swallowed whole in an instant and Ellie’s trying her hardest to mask her squeaks. “Fuck me,” you sigh when she takes another finger with no hassle, walls engulfing your digits in wetness. Her scent is surrounding you and it’s intoxicating. 

“Missed you s’bad— “

“Missed you more, baby. Missed this pussy,” You’re pussydrunk and you’re slipping. That spot in her cunt becomes plumper with each press of your fingertips, “She fucked you better than me?” 

Ellie’s denial is convincing, but that sick part of your brain doesn’t believe her. She loved being touched by someone, wanted by someone. Someone who wasn’t you, and you’re livid, “Nooo— “

You slice through her whine, “No?” Your smile is sadistic and your fingers are relentless, “You said her name like you said mine?” You grit and her eyes cycle into her skull, her hair sticking to her forehead. She’s trying to keep her voice down when she whispers how she only thought about you when she made a mess. She wanted you there, she says, she needed you there to take care of her. 

“Y’fuck me s’good, fuck— “

Your eyes are dead, “I’ll hurt you. Be quiet.” 

Fear flashes beneath her desire and she listens, keeping her sobs to a minimum. The sloppy, wet sounds of her pussy overtake the entire room the harder you fuck in, her nails tearing into her Pikachu stuffie on the corner of her bed. A string of drool dribbles from her bottom lip to her sweatshirt, her eyes glowing under the dimly lit lamp. 

Her walls shake and throb on you, “Gonna cum, baby?” You grin manically at her dumbed-out expression, cheeks wet and eyes droopy. You coo at her and force in as deep as you can, curling your fingers up, fighting against the tight contractions of her walls. 

“Make a mess on me, baby, I gotchu, c’mon— “

A long, drawn-out moan escapes Ellie’s lips, and you’re so hypnotized by the heavy spray of juices that lands on your thigh that you don’t even bother to shut her up. She’s drenching her sheets and blankets and you and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You’re fucking wave after wave out of her and she’s practically riding your hand, groaned curses and dazed squeaks of your name bouncing off the walls. 

It feels like minutes pass when her orgasm slows, inner thighs drenched and dripping with slickness. Ellie’s entire body shakes and her thighs squeeze around your hand as she attempts to catch her breath, but you’re not done. You’re not satisfied. She didn’t give you enough. 

You climb onto her and your lips connect in a simmering kiss, her wet mouth smacking against yours. Her cold hands land on either of your cheeks and your hips roll downward on hers. She whines into your mouth and tries to meet your hips but you force them back onto the mattress. She yanks at your shirt in attempts to rip it off but you don’t let up, lips slipping down to connect with her neck. 

Your wrist twists downward until you're met with her sticky bush once more, spreading her lips apart and shoving your fingers back inside her. She chokes a wet gasp when they hit right where she needs, her arms wrapping around the back of your neck to hold you close. You’re babbling nonsense in her ear as you work her, telling her how she’s stuck with you, how you’re never leaving her side again, demanding that she says you're the best she’s ever had. And she does, and either you’re fucked out of your mind, or she means it. 

You barely catch how your hips move like you're fucking her, driving into her as hard as you can and she takes it, stretches her legs wider so you can reach the spots she’s never been able to on her own. She’s saying your name like a prayer, like it’s all she’s ever known, and it’s breaking you down, only to build you back up so you can crash back into her. You missed her so fucking bad and you’re unleashing all of your feelings on her body and she eats all of it. How could you leave her when she fucking needs you this badly? You’ll never forgive yourself. 

She’s warning you, crying about how you’re going to make her squirt again, begging you to slow down because she can’t take what you’re giving her, but you feel so good and you know she does, too. You can’t stop even if you want to. You want to drain her, live inside her for the rest of your days on Earth. You’re forcing space for you inside her.

Her nails dig into your shoulders as she cums. She’s unapologetically loud and it flows directly in your ear, and your own noises leave your mouth and land onto the clammy skin of her throat. The jets of fluid that leave her are stronger than the last, and you laugh. Laugh in ecstasy and joy and pleasure that you can’t even feel, but it’s there. Right in your chest. 

You’re not done. You’ll never be done with her. 

The night evaporates with you in between her legs, slurping every bit of cum and stress that you may have caused since knowing her from the source until the sun shines through her blinds, drinking from her like you’ll die without her taste on your tongue. She lets you do whatever you need to feel satiated, but it’ll never be enough now. 

You’ll never be done with her. 

Ellie’s naked form jolts awake when ticklish breaths hit her shoulder. 

You’re beneath her, slumped, pantsless legs entangling hers and arms twisted every which way as you slobber and snore. A smile grows on Ellie’s face at your peaceful expression; She’s never slept that good in her own bed. She doesn’t want to wake you, but she has to pee so fucking badly. 

She shifts in her position and instantly cringes at the soreness in her legs. Warmth coats the crests of her cheeks when she sees the discarded sheets and pillowcases that were changed only hours ago on the floor, head plopping onto your shoulder to hide in your neck. Your snoring gets cut by a guttural cough and Ellie laughs to herself when your snores pick up again. 

She’s not a morning person in the slightest, so why the fuck is she so happy? Is this the post-sex glow that her friends always tell her about? Is she still considered a virgin if you only used your fingers and tongue? She doesn't feel like one… Sex rules are fucking dumb. She stops stressing before she ruins her morning. 

The pangs in her bladder are getting on her nerves; She wants to cuddle. She sighs and shifts on top of you, trying her hardest not to disrupt your deep slumber. She manages to separate and clothe herself before waddling down the hall and into the bathroom, trying to ignore the aches in her thighs. You wrecked her shit… What the hell. 

The second she leaves the bathroom, she smells coffee. Her dad’s up. She might vomit. 

The two of you weren’t that loud. Definitely not. He couldn’t have heard. He didn’t hear! Ellie’s stealthy as she tiptoes through the hall… until the fucking floorboards croak from beneath her and she nearly faints. 

“Come out, dipshit. I know it’s you.” 

Her eyes squeeze shut and she curses to herself. She reluctantly appears from behind the wall, her dad sitting comfortably on the couch with a filled mug and newspaper, Pickle napping on his lap. He peeks from above his reading glasses. 

“Think we needa talk.” 

“… Fuck me.” She whispers before shamefully limping into the living room. She flops onto the couch and glues her eyes onto the decorative rugs under the coffee table. 

“She seems nice.” Her dad sips his mug. Ellie’s face burns. 

“She is.” She mumbles. You took such good care of her after last night. You got her in the shower, brushed her teeth for her when she was damn near sleepwalking, watched her down two bottles of water. Her heart flutters at how soft your eyes turned when you kissed her to sleep. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” 

“… I dunno.” He hums and sips. 

She doesn’t know. You’re not dating, but Ellie thinks you like her… She thinks. She likes you… a lot. She bites at her nails. 

“You like her?” He asks lowly; She knows he knows. 

“Yeah…” Ellie whispers, cheeks rising on their own. She covers her face when he smiles. 

“Just… take your time.” Joel advises gently, “Did she tell you she’s in therapy?” 

Ellie’s ears perk and her brows furrow, “No.” She sits up. Her dad’s gaze softens, “Wait til she brings it up, then. Y’all should talk before things get serious. It’s only been a couple days.” 

Ellie knows her dad is right, but it’s hard to control herself when she’s around you. She naturally gravitates towards your aura; It’s comforting and she doesn’t want to lose it again. 

A gentle clatter comes from her bedroom and she stands. You’re awake. 

“I love you, kiddo,” Joel says, and she smiles softly. “Love you, too.” 

She scurries down the hallway and enters her bedroom, seeing you sprawled out on the floor, all wrapped in sheets. 

Your eyes are droopy when you croak, “Hello.” Ellie snickers. 

“Hi. What happened.” 

“I was reaching for, like… an orb in my dream and I guess I did it in real life,” Your voice gets so raspy in the morning, and it tickles her ears. Ellie can’t stop laughing. She helps you stand before kissing your cheek. 

“Good morning,” she wraps her arms around your neck. 

“M-Mornin’,” You squeak, eyes flitting around, “Uh… How'd you sleep?” 

“Good.” She’s lost in your brown eyes. They’re warm like the sun. Why won’t you look at her? 

She follows your line of vision down to your fiddling hands before whispering, “You okay?” You simply nod. Ellie’s heart stutters nervously. 

“Do you still wanna come over later?” 

“… Yeah.” Your attempts to disguise your stiffness fail. Ellie feels a lump forming in her throat when she detaches from you, and you search for the new pair of pants she gave you before you went to bed. Ellie watches silently, crestfallen. Something she did triggered your aloofness, so she turns to leave the room.

Her voice cracks, “I’m gonna… shower again— “

“Ellie.” 

She turns, “Yes?” 

Her fists clench when you walk until you’re standing in front of her, warm hand coming up to hold her cheek before kissing her. It’s soft and makes Ellie’s fingers thrum with excitement. It only lasts seconds before you pull away, and Ellie chases your mouth.  

“I’d love to come over. I think we… should talk about some things.” You say quietly, and Ellie silently agrees. You let her go and she wants nothing but for you to pull her in once more, shrouded in your warmth. 

You’re making her bed when Ellie leaves for the bathroom, body falling against the door to calm herself down. You’re not upset with her, and you want to come over… to talk, whatever that means.

The hot water burns her skin; She spends her entire shower thinking about how she can make you as happy as she feels. 

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[ophelian-darling]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬.

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto and Kento Nanami - gn reader.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Their Obsession was too much to handle, and you find yourself growing impatient with their acts of dandling, till you had enough. 

TW : Implied Kidnapping, Physical and Verbal/psychological abuse, Blood & Injury.

enjoy ♡

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 :

Days passed like a vision through the glass, slow to come and quick to go, without even a faint image of them or a smallest fragment of memory, as if you were looking into someone else's life, not your own. The horizon blended now into Satoru's eyes- you were no longer able to see the real extension of a natural blue, instead looking through his irises, faux felt and fake friendly, non-stop and ad nauseam. a smile would paint itself across his features and a kind touch would cosset your hands, attempting to mimic a color of romance.

"Whatcha Thinkin' of, Babe?" He asked, a honeyed voice softening his words, already knowing what was in your head; wanting a sweet lie out of your tongue. You hated his voice- no, everything about him, from his stares, the contorts and shapes of his face and the many shades of his affection; one minute, sugar and honey drip off his tongue, in Hopes of aiming at the moon and winning your trust, the other all of his sweetness is poisoned and laced with venom, intentions of wounding your ego into submission. At times, to him, you were Valentine, Babe, Love and Dreamboat; just as you were the useless, pathetic, whiney and liar, depending on his mood.

The horror of him was his eyes, they were softly in a cruel way, no effort of smiling or laughter could coffin the rage and Mania you were too aware of. You were always on alert, counting your sins and thinking of ways to redeem yourself, mentioning Kissing back, twisting your lips with pink lies, thanking him for his gifts and wearing a gleeful expression on your face. 

"Aww Satoru! you spoil me, I don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't around!..." 

You felt maggots crawl under your skin, rushing forth to your brain while you struggled to keep your smile. The more the hours fly, the more your cover of ardor cracks. a thin string of bitterness lining from beneath your nail right into your heart, stitching more into a scornful crimson slowly. 

Just how dare he- take you against your will, fondle and caress you as if you were a mere housecat and call himself a saint for bothering to look after you, while you don't remember asking or consenting for any of his attention? During so many times, including the moment as of now, you'd imagine him bleeding, cascades of red contradicting his snow complexion, pieces of glass needling his eyes that you hated with all Satan's grudge to heaven. You are sure no single speck of a tear would warm your eyelid if he dies, it was what he deserved.

"You okay, Love? something is off with you" Concern painted his face, while his blues remained ever unsettling. 

Your mouth clinged into a straight tight line, no longer able to remember the supposed smile. a harsh retort died on the tip of your tongue, leaving the room to even a harsher, short-lived silence to stretch. 

His thumb traced on your cheek, before he stood up "I'm gonna make you a cup of coffee to lift you up a li'l, stay here while I'm in there" 

Of course you're staying here, where else would you go?! Moving an inch without seeing his face was less likely than seeing a green sky.

The string of your heart sewn itself thicker. As memories of him puppeteering you flashed unwelcomed, the scornful thread darned into a ferocious rag, veiling any sense of your heart, caging it with a hating aviary. You carried yourself up, heading to the kitchen absentmindedly, guided by the heavy feeling in your chest. He didn't tire himself to look around- not like you could do anything, wrapped around his digits to control. 

An unknown tune he hummed caroled the small kitchen, his hands moving around to prepare the mugs and the coffee, too immersed in his own realm of thought to discern your motives. 

If you ever got the chance to recount this exact moment, you would say that it happened so fast that your mind didn't settle on one image: did you shatter the mug on the top of his head or the back of his neck? You don't remember, yet the anamnesis of your muscles retained the surge of Adrenaline, a slow motion second of your hand grabbing the porcelain cup and breaking it on his skull. you do recall he said something- things. a series of slurs that were too filthy, every curse and insult in the scripture. 

The crimson rag was torn off from your heart, a delicious feeling of revenge drugging you in a lucid Catharsis. your fingers twitched, your body braced itself for whatever beating it was about to receive. Oddly enough, he continued groaning and grunting, holding his head in both his bloodied hands. 

Dark red seeped through his white locks, oozing down his neck, sullying his shirt and tinting his fingers and hands. For the first time, his strange blues held an emotion different from insanity, a glassy layer over them, just a tad bit up from his usually static stare. his eyelids wept with red as he stared at you for a moment, saying nothing, before heading -as it seems- to the bathroom, a trail of red spots on the floor marking your deed.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 :

In your dreams, the sunrises and sunsets were sin crimson, dark as Abel's blood. You'd see Suguru and yourself, sitting on a shore, its sea so transparent, hued with the cinnabar rays casting from a cloudless sky. You often look forth into the puce red horizon and not to him, rarely ever locking eyes with his. One time, as you remember from a shattered vestige in your awakening, you rotate your head to the side to see him staring at you; a half erased smile contouring his lips, Black eyes mirroring the skyline that stretched to no end in sight. Twice or thrice, he'd say something, a trail of meaningless letters sliding down his composed voice. You don't retain on his words exactly, but your name was amongst them; during a glib talk of his, your name rolls down his tongue with his usual calmness, scripting your dreams as such almost always ever since you were tied to him.

"Something in your mind, Dear?" The calmness- you can hear the smile in his inquiry without looking at him, drumming through your skull in an image of him in your dreams. You looked up from your lap, noticing that he was stitching something up, the needle struggling to remain still in his fingers. Of course, he was anything short of a tailor as much as he was short of a lover, wanting to be something he can't be but insisting anyway like the stubborn cockroach he is. 

You rolled your tongue across your teeth, only to let out a muffled 'nothing' as a response. you were really trying hard to not hurl at him, he was getting on your nerves for just his existence.

He chuckled, digging the needle into a red fabric "Something is in your mind indeed. I don't know what it is and why you look so upset, but I promise I'll make you feel better" 

You'll only make me feel better by choking on a dagger, Suguru.  you wanted to say, yet being completely aware that it'll have consequences- ones you were needless for. The numbness on your face is constantly pricking its presence across your flesh, swells and mounds that remind you of his black eyes losing their serenity, metamorphosing into a brutal night dark. His hands slapped and punched as equally as they billed and cooed, and your skin has grown hateful of both.

He does not appear as a human at all. in a vast space of thinking, you would theorize that he was not much but a parasite that sucked life out of everything beautiful, including love. his version of amour was twisted, burying care under Control and killing fondness to revive fervor. Cords you couldn't see snaked around your heart and soul, burning as they got tighter, paralyzing you with apathy that was leisurely altered to a pale hue of resentment, until it fully discolored to a dim rage.

It creeped its way to your fingers. you could hear Satan's whisper, planting the vilest of ideas in your mind; at least you had the luxury of hiding your thoughts and making them behind an expression you can't feel now- you're becoming him, a hollow shell of one face and multiple voices, already sensing the stitches of a mask, a dull one that a death face left more lineaments to remember. you were blessed with emotions unlike him, there's no way you'll melt into Suguru. 

"Darling I have a surprise for you, look!" He announced cheerfully, bringing the piece of fabric he's been working on to your attention. 

He raised the Obi belt in his hands, proud of his handmade sewing. you scanned it carefully: the silk is red candy colored with few golden flowers orienting it, not much skill or talent radiating off of this mimicry of a cloth.

"I intended to offer you this as a birthday gift, but I preferred giving it to you now. maybe it'll cheer you up a little, you've been really quiet lately…" the damn calm smile decorated his face again, this time a drop of what sounded like concern is mixed with it.

You took the thing from his hand, acting like you're inspecting it but in fact holding a cackle. how in hell's seven circles he expected you to wear this?! If Suguru thought with that little sense he always prides himself of, he'd see that he wasted such a gorgeous material on such a failure of an accessory. 

"Do you like it? I hope so…" there's an octave in his voice translated as 'please tell me it's the best gift you ever received', too bad it's ugly to give him the pleasure of hearing a compliment. 

"I've been working on it for weeks. I had to choose between red or pink, deciding to pick the former because I thought it would look better on you… I'm nothing of a tailor, but I did my best" he rubbed his palms together, as if an imaginary balm coating them. he laughed a little "I gave myself a lot of needle pricks, but it was worth it-" 

"It's awful" 

You didn't have to look up to see his face.

"What?" He muttered, completely not seeing this coming. 

"It's terrible, I hate it" a joyful spark twinkled throughout your body as you said so. the smile that you tried so hard to repress curved itself on your lips. you felt you could add more fuel to the fire.

"The color is dull and this silk looks cheap, but that's not why it's ugly. I bet a child can sew an Obi belt better than you do. this thing should go back where it belongs, the trash." 

The silk wasn't cheap at all. you silently praised whoever produced it as the fabric resisted between your fingers. for a second, you considered just throwing the belt at his face, but you already teared it up a little, imagining that you were tearing Suguru apart between your fingers, the very same Suguru who was standing in front of you, ghostly pale and owl eyed, uttering not a word.

Red ribbons rippled through the small space between your hands and feet, forming a pile on the floor and resting in place. your heart clenched in excitement, a reaction that replaced the usual fear of him beating you senseless in such situations. you awaited for his hand to fly, for his voice to raise, but none came. 

His gaze froze. He apparently couldn't contain how his present ended up being nothing more than some piece of garbage that had to be disposed of. Suguru opened his mouth then closed it before turning his heels around and exiting the room. bringing back your eyes to the remains of the belt, it now jumped to you that there was something written on the back of it. 

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 :

It is agreed upon as a human truth, that Shackles do not necessarily form as chains- For it merely requires a key to be freed from. but in most absent minds, the understanding of captivity and freedom were abridged in crime and punishment or torture (always coming first as physical in most thoughts), yet there is a sort of abstract bindings; way more restraining than tangible ones and with no limit of their ability to fetter the prisoner regardless of how strong is their will to break free, or how far their access to the key goes. mind games have proven themselves to be more effective throughout history, even in the simplest circumstances. What is more, playing on the strings of sentiment: romanticization of bonds -no matter how abusive they were- such as parenthood, friendship or more formally formed ties; marriage. 

There is this magical thing about marriage : it is a golden cage, a caressing shackle perceived as a warm nest in a vision of a romance, colored as red and pink, planted as roses. a cuff that priests call matrimony, poets call union and goldsmiths call rings- you name it; it's still a menacle, whether spouses consented to it or not. 

Kento was the typical man with the ordinary ambitions of immersing in a job (best if it paid generously), owning what is enough and settling down. To him, marriage was the ultimate expression of love, more than a mere ring, a wedding or flowery vows.

"I do have for you a love so dear that I drink from what your lips touch, I breathe when your lungs exhale, I slumber on where your skin embraces the mattress; one of both life and death."

- Your adoring one.

Engraved in red, the words slided over your heart's veil, forgotten in a memory of a cold rib. Satan lured Adam with an apple, so how would sugary words find any trouble deceiving? 

"You're making me worried, Sweetheart…" sotto voce in the nature of a Dove's coo; disgustingly fondling. 

Of course, a silver tongue cuts sharp in the same way it pours coquetry. life with Kento was seeing a moon and its dark side. under the beam of light, his lips mulls everything on you; kisses on your lips, cheeks and forehead blossomed, full rainbow ray of flowers were gifted to you, mostly red, attached to them little cards and billets-doux that enveloped letters of dalliance, arranged together and too sweet to the point it sickens you. The irony of his dimness was that he's more tolerable when he gnashes his teeth; wounds at your skin and soul, scolds and punishes in a parental manner. even for days, you'd hear the beast howling in your ear, ringing through the corridors of your head and it hurts to think.

Your eyes reflected in his figure, kneeling in front of you, not meaning they were drinking in the sight of him.

His thumbs brushed across your palms "Can I see your smile again? you look beautiful when you smile, you already are no matter how your face appears" nothing stirred up in you, emptiness of a blind man's face swam through the void.

"Please… sweetheart.." your composure nearly broke; a laugh dwindled within your throat. Does he think that you were a sole toy?! there to be played with, clothed and stripped to the colors of his whims, put on a pedestal at dawn and degraded at dusk?! it gnaws now on the branches of your chest, melts in your heart and fills your brain with a spiteful flow. 

"I've got something nice, just for you, I'm sure it'll make you happy" with that, he left quickly and returned just as, something in the outlines of a large flower bouquet behind his back. no surprise, he had a proclivity for flowers; for how red are roses, for how fragrant was jasmine and for how innocent were lilies. 

"I love you Sweetheart, never forget that!" as expected, roses. a pink posy of them.

You took the bouquet from his hands, glaring at the flowers in a burning grudge. for a flash of a glint, Medusa's serpents coiled between your digits, circling wrists, their skin flaying with yours. a bottle of somber tears shattered, impuring your core with loathing never imagined to be stored in your soul. With the swiftness of a sword out of its sheath, your hand flew high, landing the thorny plants across his face, over and over again, no drop of fear in you. Kento succeeded in grabbing your hand- not the one attacking him, squeezing your wrist to make you yield, but to no avail. your blood rushed hot through your veins, carving your mind with screams of violence and to hurt him more, that is when your fists balled and your ankles rose up sharply.

"Stop!" 

You would never. your hands had their own mind, they scratched and punched and grabbed to your heart's content, avenging you after so long of a macabre suffering. your shackles started to unravel, each movement of yours freeing the hollowness outside you. short minutes stretched forth like long hours until you were done- or like you were over with him for now.

a blur on your vision subdued, the faint image clearing line by line. Kento was on the floor, leaning on a chair and balancing his weight on a knee, right hand shielding over his face. you couldn't see the damage well through his fingers till he got up, still holding his face in his hand, silently giving you his back and leaving you to your own devices. as he left, you noticed red across the sides of his hands and arms; few cuts and swells distorting the fabric of his pale skin. 

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. pop star!bakugou. prior breakup mention. based on the story behind the eyes, nose, lips mv, iykyk.

Even if you guys are closer than can be, your friends are typically more likely to text before they call, especially at this time of night, and less likely are they to accost you in a sudden video call the way they are now. You were asleep, just by stroke of luck waking up to the sound of your phone vibrating on your end table, too exhausted to put your phone on Do Not Disturb. It’s just a few minutes after midnight, 12:06 am to be exact, and when you pick up the phone, both of them appear frantic.

“Oh, thank God.”

“___, please tell me you’re away from a phone right now.”

“Dumbass, we’re literally calling her on the phone right now.”

“Don’t call me a dumbass.”

Still rubbing your eyes, you let out a sigh.

“Why did you two call me?” You’re still horizontal, trying to orient yourself while lowering your phone brightness. It’s entirely dark in your room, and you’ve been exhausted all day between errands and other activities, including a single 25 minute cry over your failed relationship.

It’s been 3 months since you and Katsuki split, and while you’ve overall been handling it quite well, intermittently the sadness overtakes you. After all, it was abrupt.

Dating a pop star was not all it’s cracked up to be, especially when it ends abruptly over a dinner you could never afford yourself with the words “take care of yourself, okay?” from a man you’d planned the rest of your life with. The last thing you’d asked him to do before that was to go public, and he’d been hesitant to, and you don’t know what happened between then and that night, because it all ended all too quickly, with you crying on the limo ride home. 

3 months later and you were almost over it until you chanced on a photo you’d forgotten to hide away in your digital memoirs and proceeded to sob.

“So uh… have you spoken to Katshole recently?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname your friend has given him, not bothering to tell her now to be nice. “No.”

It still annoys you. “Please stop calling him that.”

“Fine.”

Your other friend sighs.

“So uh, anyway, he dropped a video.” You raise your eyebrow.

“I mean, sure. Is the girl in it hot?” you ask. You pretend you haven’t been looking at his social media intermittently, trying to see if there was someone new in his life, but either way Katsuki prided himself on keeping his private life hidden away, so you wouldn’t be able to tell unless it was someone equally famous or advantageous to his career.

Your two friends both grimace at the same time. One says, “I mean yes, but not in the way you think.”

You blink.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re up and seated now, bedsheets pulled to your lap. You’ve minimized the video and are now typing his name into Google, and can see, indisputably, that he’s posted a new music video.

“Why did you guys wake me up for this?”

“Babe, listen to me carefully. If you’re not ready to get back together, do not click this video.”

Your heart thumps, while both of your friends watch you with bated breath, as your face contorts, trying to figure out what that means.

“I-”

“You’re in the video.”

You blink rapidly, your eyebrows still furrowed together, as your heart rate starts to pick up. Your mouth opens then closes.

You’re in the video.

“She’s done for,” one of your friends says, reading the look on your face, and sighs. “I’m gonna hang up, I’ll see you in the morning.”

All of you say your goodnights, and of course, you remain up, your face basking in the blue light of your cell phone, as you watch Katsuki’s urgent music video supposedly with you in it.

The video culminates in Katsuki, standing by a painted mural, and you recognize the photo, an image of your face from the first time he flew you out to paint in Italy, something that would have won any girl over just from the expense and planning, but won you over because he chose you as his model, because you can still remember how his lips parted as he mixed the right colors for your hair.

I’m sorry, please pick up my call, the video closes with the words written in his handwriting, and said with his voice, and you can feel the tears streaming down your face as you wordlessly cry.

And then your phone rings.

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Can you please please please write something about subby Euronymous from Lords of Chaos? Like him being a good little fucktoy for his Ma'am, some overstimulation maybe 😩😩

Fucking Poser

Summary: Reminding your boyfriend of his place.

Pairing: Euronymous × fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Content Warnings: Trve Cvlt Smvt 18+!, Corpsepaint Everywhere, Hair Pulling, Oral (F Receiving), One Panty Gag, Lots Of Degradation, Slight Praise Kink, Male Masturbation, Self-Overstimulation For That Extra Kick Of Humiliation, Implied Aftercare

A/N: My digital footprint is nothing but a clown shoe 🤡 I did not know that I would reach the peak of my fanfiction career with a Euroboi smut fanfic.

Disclaimer - I want to make it abundantly clear that I am not writing about the real Øystein Aarseth. I am writing about the fictionalized version of Euronymus portrayed by sexyman Rory Culkin, please and thank you!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @alalalaaallaaalaaa @bvg-w1res @milsthouqhts @roryculkinsbf @roryculkinsgf

"Damn, you really think that you are the hot shit, don't you?" With raised eyebrows you looked down into a face painted in black and white, a pair of big, blue eyes clinging to your lips.

"But you are not…all you are is a little bitch on his knees right now. C'mon, tell me what are you, Euronymous?" The tip of your foot nudged his bare chest mockingly.

"A little bitch, Ma'am. Your little bitch, Ma'am." He answered in a meak tone.

"Yes, that's exactly what you are. Day in day out I hear you yipping and yapping about your band, your music label and about how fucking true you are but do you know what I think? I think that you should put that pretty mouth of yours to much better use, boy." You reached your right hand out to his head, eager fingertips entangling themselves in his wavy, black hair before you yanked his face forward, right into your uncovered pussy.

His nose pressed against your public bone as his tongue darted right out to dip between your wet folds, a muffled and barely audible "Yes, Ma'am!" getting lost in the supple flesh of your thighs.

"That's what a good fucktoy does…" It rolled over your tongue in a low moan as you felt how he dragged the full length of his tongue over your clit in a languid stroke.

You placed your hand at the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his frizzy hair to hold him in place nice and tight. Like the good, obedient plaything that he was, Euronymous practically worshiped your throbbing cunt with his tongue, caressing your clit with attentive licks and soft nudges. With rising pleasure, your eyes fluttered shut and you allowed your head to fall back a little.

"You're doing such a good job, babe, and you better not stop until I cum all over your pretty face." You groaned into the dimly lit bedroom.

Motivated and most certainly turned on by your praise, Euronymous drove his tongue through your slick-covered folds and over your aching clit again and again with a new spurt of vigor. Like a man parched, he lapped at your pussy and you swore you could see stars behind closed lids. Every touch sent jolts of arousal through your body and it grew harder to stand up straight, your hips slightly rocking against his face as you chased a quickly approaching climax.

"Such a good, little bitch eating my pussy so well…" You moaned as his tongue pushed your body over the edge, the muscles of your thighs shaking as orgasmic contractions after contractions sent sweet bliss all throughout your body right into your brain.

You felt a warm puddle of your release gathering between his face and your thighs, a lewd squelching sound forming as you pulled him back by his hair.

With a wide grin playing around your lips, you looked down and saw how the corpsepaint from his face had transferred to the skin of your thighs, black and white streaks smeared into another.

"Such a pretty mess…", You grinned as your gaze wandered to his face, the greasepaint glistening with a shiny layer of your release around his lips and chin, "I think you deserve a little reward for that, babe."

Euronymous' eyes grew wide at your words whilst he watched you leaning down to pick up your crumpled string you had discarded to the ground earlier.

"Open up!" You demanded, biting down on your bottom lip to hold back a mischievous chuckle.

You watched as he parted his lip, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Good boy." You stated as you stuffed the lacy fabric in his mouth with two fingers.

With the grin on your face still growing, you took a step back and crossed your arms in front of your chest, admiring your work.

"Look at you, you fucking poser, all gagged up by your girlfriends pink panties. You know what I'm gonna do now? I'll take a nice, comfortable seat on that bed here and watch you touch yourself with my thong in your mouth." You took another step back, letting your ass lower down on the mattress of the bed behind you.

"C'mon, that's your chance to get off." It fell from your lips in a play-pretend mean scoff.

For a moment, Euronymous simply looked at you with wide eyes before his hand reluctantly wandered towards his crotch. He so clearly wanted - nedded - to get off, his cock already pressing eagerly against his lower abdomen.

"Go on…I'll allow it." You nodded in affirmation and right after the words had left your mouth, he wasted no time and started jerking himself off in fast strokes.

"A bit needy today, no?" You teased.

A muffled groan for an answer got lost in his throat as he closed his eyes, fitting his cock in a tight grip. It took but a handful of minutes until he was whining and whimpering into the fabric on tongue, pre-cum pooling from the head of his hard on.

"Do you want to cum now?"

He shook his head vigorously.

"Then go on and cum for me, poser." You watched intently as Euronymous' entire body started shaking and twitching as milky white ribbons of his seed splattered onto the ground.

The movements of his hand faltered and right as he was about to let go of his cock you interfered: "Nuh-uh, you keep on jerking."

"Huh?" He whimpered at your demand.

"I'm sure you have heard me, bitch. Keep stroking that cock until I tell you to stop." You explained, your voice oozing with sadistic amusement.

Euronymous' whined and winced as he followed your order and kept stroking, the pure overstimulation visible in his contorted face. You watched him closely, seeing how faint tears formed at his lower lash line quickly.

"Just a little longer.", You started talking him through it to not just leave him to the painful overstimulation, "You are doing so so good for me."

He nodded in appreciation, his hand moving up and down the length of his now softening cock.

Mentally, you started to count down from 10 in a moderate, not too slow and not too quick, pace without taking your eyes off of him, making sure that he was okay throughout the whole ordeal.

"And….stop!" It shout right out of your mouth as your internal counter reached zero.

In a swift movement you got up from the bed and hasted towards him, pulling the fabric out of his mouth first thing before leaning down to press a long, loving kiss to his quivering lips.

"It's good, it's all good now, babe. You've done so well, I'm so proud of you!"

Euronymous melted into the kiss, leaning his exhausted body onto yours.

"It's okay, I'm here.."

[pommyommyomni]

HHHHHH hi Yommy

Yommy Yoshi

Gwi-Yommy ((from the Korean word I learnt when I was 8 , "gwiyomi" which literally translates to "act cute"))

ANYWAYS

THANK YOU SO SO SOOOO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING THAT YOU HAVE SAID ON YOUR LATEST ASK , AND YES !!!! BY ALL MEANS , DAS ME FR 🫵🫵

((She is my main Sona , Aru !!!! She is a Satyr))

And babessss please , by all means again , go ahead and draw and colour me however you'd like !! Aru never had any official theme colours yet , but her robe is dark blue with a white hoodie underneath haha

((This is the only doodle I have of Aru by the way))

Hi Moonie baby !!! Sorry that it took so long for me to answer this ask sweetheart, I've been on an accidental hiatus (life got busy), oops :p I missed you lots !! I hope you're doing ok since I've been gone, love <3

that's so neat, the meaning behind Yommy! You're such an angel coming up with a nickname for me that translates to that, it warms my heart. I'm honored to have you think a nickname as cute as that suits me, love <3

Gosh I love Aru so, so much! Thank you for the art of your sona babes <3! I've been brainrotting about it since you sent the ask gah,,, the doodles you sent with the ask are also ABSOLUTELY adorable, I love how blushy she is/you are, little doeling <3

anyways, here's the colored version !! I hope you like it angel <33

I color-picked a pallete from your profile picture, I hope that's ok! (here's the pallete)

I also doodled a little bit, and i figured I should share those as well lol.

I decided I needed to make a little guy for me, so that she can interact with your little guy :) they just look like my roblox avatar tbh BUT I was excited to give Aru a friend !!

I also had like a thought while I was drawing and I had to draw it out or I'd explode. Most people are taller than I am, and I figured that would probably true about you and me too hon! so I drew us meeting except I'm short about it I guess??

This one is a WIP, I think! I 'd like to finish painting it for you, fawn—I've been having so much fun painting digitally and I'm very excited that I got to do it for Aru/you !! :)

That's all, I think! Thank you for being patient and waiting for me to reply, dear—it means a lot <3!! Sorry that this reply is so long oops ;p

I hope you're having a lovely day, my darling !! Stay safe and take care of yourself for me, ok? Drink water and eat if you're hungry, honey; and take your meds if you have any! And also don't die on me please, <33

[samandcolbyownme]

I figure it was about time to formally introduce myself.

I go by A to the world of tumblr and I am 25 year old girl and I love writing.

My pronouns are she/her/hers but dude, babe, bro, anything will work, I grew up with an older and younger brother #middlechild

I’d like to think I’m a really chill person, but I’m also a sensitive little bitch who cries at least once a day LOL

No one in my real life, like my friends and family know that I write fanfiction, so that’s why I’m so anonymous online, but I’ve been writing for a while on and off.

I used to write for Harry, Niall, and Louis, but since found that that really wasn’t exiting as writing for Sam and Colby, and now Jake and Johnnie.

If you were to ask me what girl i am out of the four, I’d have to say ask me again later, and when later comes, it would be the same answer because I’d be a whore for all of them if they’d ask.

Aside from writing, I paint and draw - acrylic, watercolor, and digital.

And finally, I have a dog, whom I love very very much and my favorite color is blue, but I love to wear black clothing.

If you wanna get to know me more, ask some things below or shoot me a message. I’m pretty much an open book, unless Im not comfortable enough to answer it, then I won’t.

But yeah, that’s all I can think of right now.

OH! I am very very very greatful for you all! You all have welcomed me with such love and grace and I am so thankful for you guys! Ilysm! 🖤

[isilrina]

Happy Art Monday!

Started at the end of last year, this piece underwent several reworkings and additions until completion due to delays during the holiday season. Originally intended for posting before the year's end, circumstances led to its completion a few days later, marking the new year with another addition to my Andromeda Six fanart collection.

'Close your eyes' portrays a pivotal moment in the relationship between the main character, Jiro, and Vexx from the game Andromeda Six. The two Kitalphan men, Jiro and Vexx were a couple before the treacherous coup shook their bond. Despite the turmoil, Jiro eventually realized Vexx was a victim as much as he was, and their love rekindled amidst the trials faced aboard the Andromeda Six.

While Nat' embodied boldness and Rina exuded emotional depth, Jiro stands as the most gentle and tender of my OCs so far. His tendency to avoid problems in hopes of their disappearance contrasts the harsh reality that he faces.

This artwork captures a crucial scene where the main character is falling, and Vexx rushes to catch him before impending danger. Much like the identifying details in previous drawings (the dog tags of Damon and the tattoos of Bash), Vexx's presence is hinted at through a glimpse of his sleeve.

Inspired by the song "Close your eyes" by Digital Daggers, the title encapsulates the essence of the scene, hinting at a moment of trust, protection, and the deep emotional connection shared between Jiro and Vexx amid life-threatening circumstances.

The heartfelt lyrics resonate with the emotional connection shared between the two men, echoing the theme of resilience and solidarity during turbulent times. The imagery portrays a gripping moment where danger looms, yet their unwavering support for each other shines through, depicting a bond strengthened by adversity.

The profound emotions conveyed in the song's lyrics parallel the essence of this artwork, illustrating not only the depth of their connection but also their determination to overcome challenges together. As the song suggests, it echoes the sentiment that despite the chaos surrounding them, their united strength and trust will guide them through the storm.

(Personal notes: As much as I love those hands, I'm not that fond of the background. I'll probably remake it when I'll have some time and I understand how to do what I want.)

Software used: Clip Studio Paint.

"Close your eyes" by Digital Daggers. (On Youtube)

And now I'm gonna take a few minutes to thanks the people who liked, wrote a comment, followed me or rebloged my art since the end of last year.

So here is a huge shout out and thanks to: @broken-little-bhaal-babe, @valkblue, @p0et-is-my-persona, @who-is-riley, @messydiabolical, @rungalwaysheretolisten, @justabadartistlmao, @rasaltav, @ohsotragical, @feydstan, @rachellaurengray, @dramionefeltson, @storyknitter, @kitschycritter, @notrandomatall, @cityofseraphim, @kad-dala, @h3av3nndh3ll, @nony-pandemia, @phans-aesthetic-adventures, @greenberrytea, @princess-paige-place-of-fun, @umbrellaseason, @hathorik, @blackblooms, @chlorhexidini and @mxsunnybop. Each time I saw I had reached one of you, it had brightened my day, so once again, thank you all.

(Unfortunately there was some people I couldn't tag because tumblr didn't let me, so if you are one of them and you see my post, know it is not intentional and thank you.)

I'll try do this more often, it will be easier next time ^^

[nicoliharu]

I bought a digital painting course from a Brazilian artist that I've admired a lot for a while, that in addition to many other things was thanks to the commissions, that I could pay my bills and buy what I always wanted, I'm very grateful for that! Love you, babes!!! TOT

But as I never took any courses I wanna make this investment to improve my drawings and commissions and god… I could understand how complex an illustration is, my head would explode!

I feel like I'm doing great! So, thanks so much to everyone who supported and commissioned me!

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

[haikyuuwaifu]

3

Double Take: Dhruv

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Swearing, Attempted Slander, Veiled Jealousy

Boy, you got me hooked onto something Who could say that they saw us coming? Tell me Do you feel the love? Spend a summer or a lifetime with me Let me take you to the place of your dreams Tell me Do you feel the love?

Standing in the line at the cafe, Shinsou’s attention was focused on his phone. He and Touya were in the middle of a meme war and the other man refused to back down. Katsuki was tired of the both of them and swore he was going to find a better boyfriend and an even better best friend. Taking a step forward, Shinsou was greeted with a blinding smile from Denki’s barista friend Kyouka. “Black coffee as usual?” She hummed, eyeing the man. Shinsou had just finished his workout, and was picking up coffee and pastries upon his return home. “I come here too much don’t I?” he joked, stuffing his phone into his gym bag. “I’ll also take a Caramel Iced coffee and some of the pastries in the case.” He mumbled, pulling out his wallet. “On the house!” Jirou mumbled, her cheeks tinted pink. Shinsou blinked owlishly, pulling out a 20 and placing it in the cup. “Thanks.” He smiled, causing Kyouka to blush profusely. Once Shinsou’s drinks were ready, he nodded toward Kyouka before leaving. She was disappointed to see that he hadn’t noticed her number written on the side of his cup. 

Minutes later found Shinsou making his way into his apartment, setting the keys on the hook and placing his purchases on the counter. “Smells good Toshi.” Y/n grunted, her eyes blinking sleepily. “Got you a pick me up princess.” He stated, reaching into a cupboard to grab plates. Y/n took a tentative sip of his coffee and winced, looking down at the cup. “Oooo someone got some digits!” She teased, giving him a playful nudge. Shinsou only rolled his eyes, setting the pastries in front of her seat. “S’not like that. She’s a friend of Denki’s. I don’t really know her that well.” Y/n only nodded, reaching over to grab her actual drink. Taking a sip she hummed, doing a little wiggle. “Thanks Tosh.” She cooed, snuggling into his arm. “Yeah yeah.” He grumbled, taking a bite of her pastry. “I’m gonna shower. Finish up and get ready, I’ll take you shopping.” He supplied, grinning as he watched Y/n stumble out of her chair. He laughed, when he watched her trip down the hall.

Shinsou took a sip from his water bottle, the sun beating down as he took in his surroundings. The campus was doing some collective competition involving a huge majority of the student body. When Katsuki had found out he’d naturally built up his team of winners, Shinsou being his top prospect. Scanning the area, his eyes fell on his best friend and his roommate. Y/n had black paint across her face and her game face on as she and Katsuki discussed logistics. “Just ask my best friend out so I can stop seeing all the pining.” Touya grunted, rubbing a hand over his face. “You look festive.” Shinsou teased, as he took in Touya’s outfit. The man was wearing shorts and a jersey Shinsou recognized as Katsuki’s. “Gotta support my babe.” He quipped, shaking his pom poms. Shinsou was going to say something else, when Kaminari whacked him on the back. “Jirou gave you her number a week ago Hito! Why haven’t you called?” The blonde shouted, tugging his friend close. “I forgot about it and threw the cup out when I finished the drink.” Hitoshi mumbled distracted. Denki followed his buddies eye line and scoffed. “She’s just fucking playing you man. Be fucking for real right now.” Shinsou only rolled his eyes, giving Denki a shove. Touya wanted to say something, but a woman’s voice interrupted them. “Hitoshi!” Kyouka hummed, making her way into the group. Shinsou gave her a small smile, his eyes flitting back across the field. Kyouka’s eyes followed his, and she frowned. “That’s Y/n right? Your roommate?” “Just his roommate, practically his sister.” Denki shouted, patting Shinsou’s back enthusiastically. Kyouka’s eyes lit up a that, but before anyone could shut things down, a whistle cut through the yard. “Quit fucking around and get over here” Bakugo barked. Kyouka tried to reach out, but Shinsou was already gone. 

Later that evening Y/n was in the bathroom waiting for Mina and Uraraka. Readjusting her chest area and taking in her appearance she nodded, pleased with the result. Next to Y/n, Jirou stepped up to the mirror to reapply her lipstick. Looking over, she eyed the other woman before speaking. “You’re Y/n right? Denki’s friend?” Kyouka began, looking in the mirror as she applied her darker shade. Y/n made a face, smiling thinly. “I wouldn’t count Denki as a friend, but we know each other.” She hummed, as Uraraka stepped out of the stall. “Your roommate is Hito then?” Jirou asked in an attempt of uninterest. “That’s right.” Jirou gave Y/n a onceover, before making a face. “Hm. You don’t seem worth the trouble.” She sniffed, stuffing her lipstick tube back into her purse. Uraraka’s eyes widened as Mina slammed her stall door open. “What the fuck did you just say?” Mina hissed, eyes narrowed. Jirou only stood up, giving the other woman a shrug. “I’m just calling it like I see it. Denks is right. She’s not worth much.” She supplied giving Y/n another glare. Y/n paid her no mind, clicking away at her phone. Stuffing her phone back into her pocket she gave Kyouka a sweet smile. “Enjoy the rest of the party babe.” She declared making her way toward the door. Kyouka followed the girls out, ready to go find Shinsou. What she wasn’t expecting was to see Shinsou standing outside. “Hey!” She smiled, taking a step toward him. “Hey.” Shinsou grunted distractedly sliding his jacket off his shoulders. Turning slightly, he dropped it onto Y/n’s shoulders as he reached into her pocket to grab her phone. “Touya’s got the car ready and Bakugo’s by the door.” He mumbled right into Y/n’s ear. Y/n nodded, turning to give Jirou a friendly wave. “See you around Kyouka.” Y/n cooed, winking as she walked away. Shinsou looked over, giving the woman a friendly wave. “We’re gonna call it an early night. Can you let Denks know if you see him?”  Shinsou asked. All Kyouka could do was nod dumbly, watching as he walked away. 

Prev/Next

[naradivision]

For a particular day in Nara Division, Yuuya Kanata’s birthday had finally arrived. Of course, A celebration for Miraitabi’s leader was no question on his special day.

Though, Another special visitor had yet to pay a visit.

Left on Kanata’s doorstep was a package with a note taped to it. But, Another sign was present…

An electric blue music note…?

“Hey Kanata~! Perhaps you don’t know me, But I’m Yousei Mai. From OverDrive, Fukuoka’s 2nd team~” The note started.

“I hope you enjoy this gift, I’ve heard tons of things about Nara, So happy birthday~!” The note finished.

Inside…Was a deer ornament, How cute…

“Looks like we’ve got another deer added to our weird home collection, human!”

Giggly commenting by the wavy long and white haired girl who was now floating on Yuuya’s television screen as if she was in some kind of a tank, she then opened her pale arms wide in a theatrical manner toward her human’s first gift of the day.

“Welcome to the herd and don’t you forget to greet your Papa Stag over there, babe~ You’re now one of us☆”

—And yeah, you don’t read anything wrong. This strange girl was actually inside his digital TV; or to be more precise, she has made herself display on its monitor screen via hacking through the network in his house. For whatever reason it could be, this extraordinary roommate of his was without any physical body but somehow being compensated with a wondrous prowess to gain access through any electrical system she came in contact with.

“What are you saying? Deer aren’t weird, they’re cute.”

Having a soft smile painted on his face as he retorted to his cybernetic roommate, Yuuya picked up the wooden ornament for some close appreciation before deciding to put it on one of his shelves beside other deer merchandise he got from his hometown’s tourism festival.

“By the way, ANGE, do you know about our gift giver? It’s written here in the note that it was from someone with their team named ‘OverDrive’ but I’m not really sure since their team name doesn’t conform to the one I know …Perhaps they are the new team that has recently debuted? Maybe I’ll send them something as thanks next time.”

Hearing the name of a certain team that has been infamously viral among divisions as of late, ANGE then turned herself around to meet her human’s gaze.

“Ho… You finally discover them, human.”

Her iconic cowlicks on her head twitched up, signifying that she has found something interesting —or she just felt alerted? Who knows? Sometimes Yuuya wasn’t certain about what his digital friend was thinking…

However, he could ultimately guess from her reaction that she might have something on her mind in regards to this particular team.

“For a basic info about them; this new team was officially debuted for around 6 months by three persons formerly known as the members of a young idol band ‘Traffic Light’ from over 10 years ago. However, due to their mysterious hiatus several years afterwards, now these trio are back again with their new name registering as the second team representing the Fukuoka Division after the foundation of MIHANASA—”

“Hey, hold up… The second team of Fukuoka? Isn’t Inouye-san’s team already being forced into this by the government themselves?”

“Even more surprised. From what ANGE has eavesdropped, this one seems to be asked in joining by the Prime Minister herself.”

“What— Really? Then why don’t you tell me about this a bit sooner? This can be a very crucial matter to concern about.”

“ANGE hasn’t brought this up to you earlier because back then you looked so occupied with the thing called ‘Entrance Exam’, you forget? Anyway, don’t worry about it and keep focusing on what is ahead of you instead! ANGE will keep a close eye on them in your place —Or at least err… ANGE is more than 100% sure other divisions do.”

—Thank you for the gift!

& Sorry for the super late reply, meanwhile, other replies are in the process ( ´ω` )ﾉ

[olsenmyolsen]

Looking Back

Part 37 of On The Inside of Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: ~ 4.9K

masterlist

"You and your girlfriend have been through a lot but finally seem happy. Things can change. They always do. Xoxo. Remember?"

"Let me see!" I reach over and grab the Polaroid to watch it slowly develop. "You probably blinked." They mock me before quietly looking away to their buzzing phone.

"Who is it?" I'd always ask.

I never cared who it was at first. Just always curious. But curiosity can get the best of us, especially when your stomach turns and your partner hides their phone every time you look.

"No one." They move their phone away and say, "oh look!" as our smiling faces fill the white frame. "You didn't blink this time." They laugh at their own stupid joke before pulling the photo from my hands to write on it.

Xoxo.

I kept that photo for months even after- I remember looking at the picture and seeing her big brown eyes wide as her smile. She was happy.

So was I.

But I wasn't faking it.

That moment of Naomi and I alone in our living room was two months before she hit me for the first time.

Four months before I discovered she had already been cheating on me.

Y/N POV

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

I pull my head to my right at Isabella, who looks at me curiously. "I've called your name like three times. Are you alright?" I turn my head back to face the opposite chair in front of me. Where Robert, or should I say, Bo Berger, just left from.

From the moment we sat down, we- he talked about the show from a couple of months ago. How much he enjoyed the performance of it all, especially at the end. He said it left him feeling empty and yearning. That is the exact feeling I wanted you to have. He also talked about the loss he felt and marveled at the stage that I built with the songs I chose and the music I played.

All of this to say. He actually gets it. And. I think Bo is my publicist now.

Well, not yet, at least...

I look down from the seat to the unsigned stack of papers in front of me. Contracts and legal documents for me or a lawyer to look over. Clipped to the front is Bo's business card.

He was friendly and has an in with a record company. The same company houses famous acts like ATM, Midnite Sun, Taylor Swift, etc.

During the meeting, he also put his number and email in my phone and sent me digital copies of the papers in front of me. I reach a hand out and begin picking up the documents and straightening them out. "I'm good," I reply to Isabella, who doesn't budge from her stance. "It looked like your meeting went well, but you don't appear too happy about it?"

Thanks, captain obvious. I internally roll my eyes. I'm totally telling Liz that Isabella flirted with me.

I turn now to look up at her with her hands in her apron. "It's just a lot..." I paint a smile on my face. "I'm happy. I truly am."

That's not a lie. I am happy.

I just.. couldn't focus during the meeting, and I missed half of everything this dude was saying. The boring half. Boring = important. So now I have to find a lawyer for all of this. Go back home to Liz before she leaves for her shoot tonight. And try and figure out who the hell gave me this note.

I let the chair squeak under me as I stand to rise above Isabella. "I'm good. We'll see you this weekend?" I ask the question but barely hear the answer as I move myself out of the cafe and into Liz's Prius.

Yes, we traveled with it to Texas. Duh.

I throw the papers into the passenger seat and pull my phone out. Dialing my best friend.

Maxine "Max" Moore.

After three and a half rings, the call gets answered. "Hello?" The other voice doesn't sound like Max's, so I guess I must be speaking to Ivy.

"Ivy?" I reply. "Yeah, hey, Y/N! I'm guessing you're calling for Max." I hear some movement from the other side. "Yeah. Sorry." "That's alright, one sec." I hear more shuffling followed by a distant "babe!" and "what?"

"It's y/n!"

"I'm in the shower?!"

"So?!"

This doesn't even crack the top five times Max & Ivy have taken a phone call when they definitely SHOULDN'T have. You can figure out the other times.

"Okay, here's Max! Bye, Y/N!"

"Bye, Ivy," I reply with a smile. I'm glad Max found someone for herself. "What's up?" I hear through the sound of water still going. "Are you still taking a shower?" I turn on the car and lean my head on my hand against the window of the vehicle.

"Yeah, dude. You're never going to experience it, but Ivy's bathroom is giant." I shrug. It probably is more significant than places I've lived in. "So, what's up?"

I open and close my mouth. Where do I start? The meeting? The note? "I- it can wait till you're done." "You sure?" "Yeah. I- just call me back-" "No. I'm not hanging up." Max states. "I'm going to set the phone down outside the shower, and you're gonna listen to me belt out Clean by Taylor Swift."

This isn't the first time she's done this either. I sigh and pull the note out as Max starts singing.

_

"Okay, now what's up?" Max says after hanging her hair up into a towel. "This is gonna be a long shot, but..." I flip the note around my fingers and think about what I'm really about to ask. "Do you think Naomi still has you blocked on Instagram?"

I get the words out of my mouth as quickly as I can before closing my eyes and waiting for anything to come through the silence on the other side.

Silence.

Silence.

And then.

"What..?!! Are- are you really asking me- y/n!?! Are you really asking me if Naomi Sanders. You're abusive and manipulative ex-girlfriend. The very one whose car I keyed and threatened to drown her ass if I saw her touch you again. You're asking if she still has me blocked?! I think I know the answer!" Max scoffs. Rightfully so, I might add. "What's this about? What's going on?!" Max bites back at me, worried.

I think on it. Do I tell Max? What do I tell her? 'hey, I got a weird note from a stranger, and I'm paranoid it might be from my crazy ex that Mary-Kate paid off'?

Like??

"I just.." I look down at the note again before opening the passenger-side glovebox and throwing it in there. "I- I don't know.. I was just wondering." I sigh. "I mean, even before Mary-Kate took care of her, I hadn't seen or spoken to her in months. I'm just worried, Max."

"About?"

"About something fucking this up for me. I mean, I'm at a great place. I have a beautiful and loving girlfriend whose one of the greatest actresses of our time. Not to brag." Max lightly laughs. "My dreams are on the cusp of becoming true, and I'm scared.. I'm terrified, Max." The phone goes silent. Max and I have known each other long enough to let the silence speak.

"I'll have Ivy see if she can see her account or anything. Okay?"

"Thank you."

"Of course, Y/N. Babe!" Max calls out before asking. "Username the same?" I nod before thinking."It should be. Maybe?"

"Okay."

I hear Ivy make a comment about Max's nakedness before realizing that her girlfriend is asking her something.

"Alright, she's grabbing her phone," Max informs me about Ivy's moves. "Alright, she's typing in the username. Oh! Her profile popped up! Oh my God, dude, she's not private anymore!! Holy shit!" I hear some light shuffling and giddiness from Max. "Oh yeah, click on her story!" I hear Ivy argue that Naomi could see that she viewed her story, but with some convincing, Ivy clicks on the 2-hour-old story. "Uh huh.."

@Naaaaomi28 Story Posted 10 hours ago

caption: fall is here but summer vibes remain

"What?" I ask, unaware of what the other two are seeing. "According to her story, she's in the Hamptons.." I roll my eyes. Of course, she is. Not like she could afford to go before or have extravagant things, but she lied as she did.

"Has she made any posts out of New York?"

The other side of the phone goes quiet for a second before I interrupt with a "Max?!"

"Hmm, oh y,eah! Sorry, I was looking at her story again, but uh, no yeah.. all of her most recent posts have been in New York, it looks like. Although she doesn't post as frequently as she used to."

Max thinks that last bit aloud. I raise an eyebrow curiously. If Naomi wasn't working, putting me down physically or emotionally, she could always be found on her phone.

"Wait.. you think?" I tune back into the conversation Max is having with Ivy. "What's going on?"

"Babe, click on her story again. Oh my God, you're right!"

"Guys. Left out here."

Max moves herself closer to the phone so I can hear her louder. "Sorry, but Ivy said that the house in Naomi's story looks like the one Ivy rented last month. I mean... she's got money now, but Mary-Kate didn't give her money money right?"

"I don't know, but..." I genuinely don't know. I rub a hand over my forehead and sigh. "I guess I feel better knowing she's in New York." "Yeah.." Max starts. "I mean, we know she's not the sharpest tool in the shed, but doing anything to you now would be dumber than dumb."

"Dumber than dumb," I repeat the words back, feeling a tad lighter, knowing that Naomi may not have been the person who I chased. "I'm sorry to call out of the blue. I just-"

"Y/N, don't sweat it. I get it." I smile, knowing Max would. "Plus, it's been a couple of weeks since we've talked, so let's stop talking about her, and you tell me what's up?!"

I want to tell Max about the perks of being your girlfriend's assistant and my meeting today, but I want to wait till everything is official, so instead, I pivot.

"You first! Why was this the first one I'm hearing about a Hampton House?!"

Max laughs loudly. "Sorry. Ivy just wanted to keep that Thursday night between us."

"Wait. Are you telling me Ivy rented a Hampton house just for one night??"

"No, she rented it for the week. We only used it the one night." Max laughs and then says, "Isn't it great we each found a sugar mommy at just the right time!" Max excitingly says before the sound of being slapped on the arm loudly shoots through the phone.

"Ow!!" Followed by a "Sorry..."

I can't help but laugh at this and then wonder if my anxiety is making me panic. Naomi wouldn't be stupid enough to follow me to Texas, would she? "So, anything new for you? Lizzie renting any houses besides that one in Texas?" I smile. "Nope. We're staying here through filming, only stopping for breaks and stuff."

"Oh, that's cool! How is it on set?"

"Well..." I draw out the word. Because truth be told, I haven't been to set as much as I should have. I have a good reason too! Seeing your girlfriend act as a killing cheater isn't the funniest thing to watch. But she knows this, so most days, I show up when she has to act with Jessica Jones herself, Krysten Ritter, or the kids on the show. "It can be entertaining and a little strange, you know, watching how things get made. Outfits are amazing!" I begin to ramble, remembering my favorite day on set so far. "She must've had to fall like 15 different ways. But her volleyball outfit. Jesus Christ, Max. I was practically drooling."

I should've stopped there, but I don't. I keep gushing about Liz and her ability to transform herself and act with her eyes. I swear she could do a one-woman show about her eyes, and I'd watch it.

"But everyone is very nice and respectful." There's silence on the other side until I sense Max going to open her mouth, but I stop her, already knowing what words my best friend is going to say. "Don't."

"What? How do you know??"

"Give the phone to Ivy."

"Y/N! What?! You're done talking to me?"

"Give the phone to Ivy, and I can call you later tonight!"

"Boo! You're no fun!"

"Love you."

"Love you too." I hear the phone being passed to Ivy, and her older girlfriend goes, "Oooh did someone get in trouble!" Before putting the phone to her ear. "What did she do this time?" I laugh into the phone as I let the a/c fully cool the car. "It's what she almost did."

"Ooh, and what's that?"

"She was about to call Liz a milf. Amongst other things, I guarantee. So watch her and tell Max I'll call her later." Ivy chuckles before I swear I hear a smirk on her face.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll keep her in line. Bye, Y/N."

Max is in for it.

"Bye, Ivy."

I don't end the phone call quickly enough before hearing: "Oh Maxine!!"

I toss my phone into the passenger side seat and let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Okay," I say to myself. "If it's not her, then what the fuck." I let my mind work for a few minutes before giving up.

With another groan and a wipe of the eyes, I look at the time and realize I need to get back home before Liz is late for her shoot. So I quickly grab my phone to queue up a Spotify playlist and directions back home. As I start my drive, I slowly let the dark thoughts of my ex dissipate as the excitement of the meeting I just had let itself be known.

For now.

Liz POV

I'm that person. I'm that person that picks up and puts down their phone numerous times in a minute when I'm waiting to hear from someone.

I've sent Y/N four texts since she was supposed to be home almost 30 minutes ago, and I haven't heard anything.

Now maybe her meeting went really well, and she lost track of time. Then great!! Or perhaps the meeting went terribly, and she's out there crying and feeling horrible. Not great! But I would love to be there for her regardless. However, I can't be there for her when she doesn't text me and let me know!!

Let me recheck my phone.

Nothing. Damn, it.

I'm about to text and call again before going Scarlet Witch on whoever when I hear tires in the gravel driveway.

In a split second, I'm out the door seeing a smiling Y/N with a stack of papers. So it looks like it went well! I swallow down the worry I had coming out of the house a replace it with a breath of fresh air.

"So it went good!?" I kiss Y/N and pull her into a hug before pulling back. Y/N nods her head but adverts her eyes.

Okay..

"Yeah, it went great. He was great and nice! The cafe was the perfect spot for it! But I was a little distracted, so I have homework!" She lifts her papers with a huge smile. But I catch every word she just said. "Distracted?!" I playfully ask as I shut the front door behind us. God, her ass looks great in those pants. "Yeah, kinda like how you are now." She shakes her butt a bit for me before I lift my eyes to see hers looking back.

Somethings off.

But I smile. Clearly, she doesn't want to talk about what might be bothering her. But being honest and open works both ways. "You didn't answer my texts. I was worried." I say, letting my voice know how worried I was. Y/N looks back at me with a face full of sorrow. "I'm sorry, Liz." I shake my head and smile before I ask, "What were you distracted by?" I slightly push the topic while grabbing the stack from her hands and placing it on the kitchen island.

"Oh..." Y/N pauses a second too long to let me know she'd about to lie. She's witty and brilliant but can't lie worth a damn on the fly. "Thinking about what my stage name would be if I sign." She says. "Oh!?" I'm surprised to hear that. Lie or not. "You wouldn't go by y/n or y/n y/l/n?" Y/N looks at me with a natural smile. "I don't know. What do you think? Should I go by y/n?"

(Author here. What should y/n go by!! Comment next to the one you like below or here if you have a different stage name idea. Okay. Bye. Love you.)

"Or maybe 'it's just y/n'?"

"Or 'yeah, it's y/n' like your username?" I suggest. She slowly nods. "Maybe." She leans herself off the counter and works her way around the island to me. Placing her body between the white isle and myself. She appears to want some comfort right now, which I'm more than happy to give.

"Or maybe I just go rogue and do something nothing like me. Like..." She thinks. "Like.. Kevin Opal!" She smiles at me, causing the two of us to crack up before continuing. "Or maybe... Lady Prim!"

"Hmm." I let her wrap her arms around my waist. "I don't know. Kevin might be growing on me." Y/N pulls her face away, almost disgusted. "Liz. You can't just say that. Also, you have to say, Kevin Opal! Not just Kevin. Plain Kevin is ew. That's gross." I roll my eyes and kiss her. "Sure, Y/N, whatever you say." She pulls me into another kiss and another before our eyes meet.

I want to ask her what's going on, but I don't want to push it more than I am. So instead, I say. "What about Hex?"

"Hex?" Y/N asks, confused, but I nod. "Weren't the Hex Girls a part of your gay awakening? It could be a homage to that." I playfully smile and wink at Y/N, teasing her. She lightly scoffs in offense before the ends of her lips curl up. "I do like it!"

"Of course you do." I make a smug face before kissing her soft pink lips. "I mean, I like your name the most, but whatever you choose to do, I'll support you, baby," I say those words looking her right in the eyes. She looks back and smiles. "I know. Thank you, my love. I like Hex too. But.." Y/N unfurls her arms from my body to turn around and grab a few of the papers from the stack. "I need a really good lawyer!"

I raise an eyebrow. "Babe, your best friend is dating one."

Y/N closes her eyes and sighs. "Right." She puts the papers down on the island, almost defeated. What's going on? "Hey.." I lift my hands to her head and tilt it up to look at me. "Y/N.." She bites down on her bottom lip when she brings her eyes up to me. "It's nothing.."

"It's not nothing." I immediately say. "Somethings clearly upsetting you. What is it?" I push. "Is it Bo? Did he do something?" I'll kill him. "Or do anything?" I gently ask, grabbing her hands in mine. "No." She shakes her head and makes eye contact with me. She's telling me the truth. "I just.." Y/N starts before stopping and pushing herself away. "You have to get to work. You'll be late. I'm fine."

I turn around and look at the kitchen stove displaying the time. "They can wait. I've told you. You come first." Y/N isn't wrong. I do need to leave for work sooner rather than later. "Whatever it is." I follow behind her as she works her way to a cabinet to grab her favorite cup.

We all have one, right?

"We talk things out. That's what makes this.." I gesture between the two of us, but she doesn't see it. "..work swimmingly. No more tiptoeing. Or will they, won't they? We talk. We're in this together, and together we talk about things." Y/N places her full cup of water down and turns to face me. She looks more tired than she did a minute ago. Clearly fighting with what she's hiding.

"Now, what's going on? I know you didn't do anything wrong. You say Bo didn't. Isabella probably flirted with you, but that bothers me more than you." Y/N gives me a small smile that I love to see. "So what is it."

Y/N looks up at me and kisses my lips before quickly spilling out what I had to coax from her. "I talked to Max and Ivy earlier today. Well, Ivy first because she answered Maxine's phone, but I needed to talk to someone else about... this.."

"This?" I question. Y/N puts her hands in her back pocket before pulling them back out empty. She motions over to the papers on the island. "This." She says. "This life. What if it all- What if this castle I build comes crumbling down?" Y/N looks at me and gives me a soft, sad smile.

"You and I would be fine. I don't doubt that, Liz. But I..I don't think I'd do okay if something o-or someone came in a-and fucked it up for me." She pulls her lips into her teeth again. At the same time, I run my hand up the sides of her face and push her hair behind her ears. "Someone?" I ask as I move my hands down her arms, pulling my Y/N into a tight hug and letting her rest her head against mine.

"Naomi," Y/N speaks the name as if it cuts her tongue just to say it. "Oh," I say. We haven't talked about her in months. Y/N does for therapy but not me. "You think she would do something?" Y/N nods into me. "I had a thought." A beat passes. "That's why I called Max.. and Ivy. We checked her Instagram, and she's still in New York living her best life, I guess.." I softly pull Y/N out of the hug and have her look me in the eyes.

"Oh, baby.. She's not going to ever do anything to you. As long as I'm around." I smile at her. "As long as you have loving and caring friends like Max, Ivy, Mary-Kate, and whoever else. And this.." I point to the papers one more time. "This is yours. You did this. No one can take this away from you. Try as they might." I lean in and give her a nose scrunch that I know melts her and a kiss.

Our lips part before Y/N pushes them together again. And again. Pushing me against the kitchen island. This kiss and the ones following and full of love but are yearning for more.

My hands find themselves at Y/N's hips, and I'm fully ready to let this happen if she wants it to before I taste it.

Salt.

In an instant, I pull my hands free and head back to see tear marks down Y/N's face. "Babe-" "I just love you so much," Y/N says through a chocked up sob before her body falls into my arms and my whispered sweet nothings. "I love you too, Y/N. I love you."

_

Over two and a half later, I'm sitting in my black Prius, getting ready to start my drive to set. I tried calling my director Lesli Linka Glatter to call off the shoot tonight, but Y/N saw me and ended that. I don't think I should be spending tonight away from her. But she persisted I went to work.

So I called them and profusely apologized for being late.

Y/N and I talked, shared some tears about the worries she has been having, but she seemed more stressed about talking to me about it since she didn't want me to worry. But I'm always going to worry for my Y/N. Even if she has a crazy ex or not.

Because Y/N has been gently blowing up online, she's about to have her first publicist. Who has her lined up for a potential record deal. On top of that, she's dating me. Oh, and not to mention all of those things, plus she's a woman. Everyone is going to expect everything from her but not want her to say anything about it.

All I want is for her to be her and to be able to say whatever she wants.

And as I sit here in my car, she's on the phone with her therapist. Y/N said after that call goes, she is going to call Ivy and get her opinions on the contracts and help her get in contact with a lawyer closer to home.

Home.

LA. For us.

Oh shoot, that reminds me. I pull my phone out to call the one person I meant to earlier about plans for Thanksgiving.

"Hi, Lizard!"

"Hi, Mom!" I respond cheerily as I connect my phone to the car's Bluetooth before looking up and seeing Y/N rush out of the house to the side of my car. "Oh, wait one sec, Mom." I roll down my window as Y/N leans herself against it. "What's wrong?" I ask, ready to stay in for the night.

Y/N smiles at me. "Nothing. You forgot this.." Y/N says, confusing me before she quickly kisses me and laughs. "We're gross." She whispers in my ear, earning a hearty laugh from me.

"Lizard?"

Y/N, shocked by the other voice in the car, shoots herself up, causing her to hit her head on the roof of the Prius, earning a quiet "ow."

"Still here, Mom," I speak to the car before looking to make sure Y/N is okay. She runs her hand over her head and gives me a sad nod. "Mom?" Y/N questions in a hushed tone. However, before I can answer said, Mom speaks up again. "Was that Y/N I heard?" Y/N shakes her head, no, earning a laugh from me. "Yes, we're both here."

"Oh, how wonderful. It's a pleasure to be able to speak to you, dear, finally."

I look to Y/N, who isn't ready to speak to any of my parents yet, but I watch her swallow down her nerves for the moment. "It's a pleasure to speak to you as well, Ms. Olsen. How are you doing?" Y/N looks at me worriedly, but I return with two thumbs up.

"Oh, Y/N, please call me Jarnie. Now how is my Lizard treating you?"

Y/N looks back at me with a mischievous grin.

Oh god.

Instagram

@NSanders28 🔒 Private Story Posted a week ago

Y/N POV

"And if it didn't catch you on it this morning, when were you going to tell me about your new secret private Twitter and Instagram account Liz??" I question my girlfriend for what must be the sixth time this morning as we walk up the steps to Jarnie's house on this Thursday morning. "Once again, Y/N. It's literally only for you." She bites back a proud smile. "You were supposed to take longer in the shower anyways." Liz shrugs.

Or should I say @ynsgreenreptile shrugs.

"Oh, was I?" I curiously ask. "And why is that?" Liz quickly hits the doorbell. "Because I know I left you wanting more." I wrap my arm around her and kiss the side of her ear. "Why do you think I followed you out a few minutes later?" I whisper and pull away as the front door to this mansion opens up.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" A particular half of the twin duo yells as they come flying out and into Liz.

"I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to be celebrating this holiday anymore anyways." The other half comes out of the door screaming into me. Liz and I both laugh and greet each sister. "Come on."

"Why'd you ring the doorbell instead of waltzing right in?" Mary-Kate questions closing the door behind us as we take our shoes off.

"To announce our arrival, duh." Liz rolls her eyes at her sister, throwing me off a little before I notice MK stick her tongue out.

That's when it hits me. I've never seen Liz privately interact with her siblings.

"Mom, you're favorite daughter is here!!" Liz takes my hand and begins dragging me through the house with a child-like smile full of glee.

Oh, this is going to be a gas.

Part 38

A/N: at least until the Dad shows up am I right??!!! No it'll be fine. Maybe. 🤪

Liz's account name on here is real. I have it. On Instagram and Twitter. It's a backup to my other account OlsenMyOlsen on Twitter.

sorry this one is shorter than most. Between buying a house, remodeling it, having the ac break, barbie and writer's block it's been really hard to write lately but I have a lot of ideas for the future!!

Anyways love you all! See you next time. maybe time skips coming up!

[peachfuzzbutt]

I think I'm dealing with a bit of artistic burnout. I spent a long time very consistently pumping out 3 comics a week, and often 2-3 other additional pieces. I feel less than stellar that I can't seem to sit in front of my tablet for more than an hour or two at the moment.

My Patreon and Discord are still up and getting updates, but I find it very exaughsting trying to track people down to show my work to. Sorta like tugging on mom's apron, but she was never really interested anyway.

Got a lot of paintings going. They are actually turning out pretty good, I've never been terribly good at it before but after all of the digital painting somethings clicked. It takes much longer than digital, but I am getting a lot of peace out of it all.

So yeah. Thanks for listening, babe.

[happytheoristdreamer]

Thanks for the tag @turtleskele

I love these too!!! 💖💖💖

1: Summer

2: The Goonies

3: My first sketchbook

4: Forest green

5: Ruby

6: 9PM - 2AM

7: “Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game” – Babe Ruth

8: Daydream

9: Happy by Pharrell Williams

10: Everybody Hurts by REM

11: Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice

12: Drawing on paper or digital, music, dancing (for fun), some writing, calligraphy, and ink painting.

13: Back in my high school days (early 2000’s), Friends and friends of friends would pay me to draw what they wanted. It was a good side job and a lot of fun.

14: Eyes

15: Early 2000’s, 90s, 80s and etc… Anybody remember pagers? That was neat when I was a kid.

16: Pixies and The Killers (at the moment).

17: Futurama and How I Met Your Mother

18: Orion

19: I’m Nobody! Who Are You? By Emily Dickinson

20: Hello Nasty by the Beastie Boys

21: The ending of Chinatown…

22: Navy and Turquoise

23: Learning, experiencing new things, exploring, and being passionate in what makes one happy.

24: Christmas

25: Milk chocolate

26: My second eldest sister. She’s my rock and best friend.

27: Chicago

28: Doctor Strange

29: Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

30: My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite

⭐ 30 favourites asks

favourite…

1 - season?

2 - classic film?

3 - nostalgia-inducing possession?

4 - shade of green?

5 - gemstone?

6 - hour of the night?

7 - quote?

8 - type of dream?

9 - happy song?

10 - sad song?

11 - character from a book?

12 - creative medium?

13 - memory?

14 - aspect of a person’s face?

15 - decade before the 2020s?

16 - band?

17 - animated film/tv show?

18 - constellation?

19 - poem?

20 - album?

21 - ending in fictional media?

22 - shade of blue?

23 - part of being alive?

24 - holiday?

25 - kind of candy?

26 - person you know?

27 - musical movie?

28 - superhero?

29 - book longer than 500 pages?

30 - book shorter than 300 pages?