#very happy with progress on drawing eyes this year :)

[cata-strophes]

a bit late but!! here is my 2022 summary :} its all mcyt again :)

thank you all so much for hanging out this 2022 and chilling with me even when i went through severe art block and didnt post anything in weeks ahahhaha (*cough november cough*) so anyways!! thank you all so much again, i hope you stick around another year, i love you all a lot <3

this year i drew some things im very proud of !! i tried to get out of my comfort zone with some stuff and i just. i dont know, im very happy with them

[pipthegreat]

Info Cards‼️

These took a while to make but I fairly like how they turned out. These are all ordered from the oldest to newest member of Digital Fun Park!

Welcome to Digital Fun Park, a canceled VR horror game that was brought back to life.

When the company gave up on an in-progress horror game, it was left to fade away. But a virus inside of it came to life and couldn't stand being lonely anymore, so it brought people to its digital world.

Poster:

How abstraction works:

The Adventures:

The Solar Eclipse:

First designs + lineup:

I'll edit this post when I make "important" things about the au, also please ask me questions because I absolutely love this au!!

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

Comics:

* Jax's hatred

* What could happen

* First introduction

* Gangle's comics

* A silly mistake

* The Mask

* Bonding

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

Info:

* Tadc / dfp

* Missing parts

* Outside the park

* Bubble

* Rest

* Abstracted

* Gloink Queen

* Fear of the park

* Defense

* Closed eye

* Jax.

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

"Can I make fanart?":

Of course you can! I don't mind at all and it makes me extremely happy!

"Is there any ships?":

There are no cannon ships in this au but if you want to ship the characters you can totally go for it! Self shipping is also welcome! As long as it doesn't involve minor x adult though.

"Can I make NSFW?":

You do you, just don't send it to me alright? ^^

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter One: A Lesson In Kissing

Chapter One: A Lesson In Kissing

warnings: kissing, exploring sexually, fluff, mentions of IRL creative licenses/pop culture references pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: after a few weeks of getting to know the shy and stoic Nanami Kento, you invite him over to your dorm to watch some anime. as things progress, you realize that you have taken his kissing virginity...

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat. @gennaray

MDNI banner and Support your writers banner by the lovely benkeibear!!!

Masterlist

Classes had begun fairly well and you were getting into the full swing of things. Moving to a different city and going to a prestigious university hadn’t been your initial plan, but when you won the bursary and the scholarship, you found yourself unable to say no. Your parents had encouraged you to go, praising you for your high grades and your charismatic nature. So with that in mind, you had been very excited about the prospect.

You had worked in a bank a little bit during your last year of high school. And it completely changed your mindset about money. You decided not long after that that you were going to study to become a financial advisor. You wanted to be able to help people with their money. You wanted them to see that they could make good, fiscal plans with their assets.

And taking classes in business and finance could open a lot of doors for you. Even if the financial advisor job fell through, you could make your way into a job in stocks. Anything in the financial and business field would make you happy.

This is where you met Nanami Kento. He’s shy, sullen and stoic. He hides in the back of your shared classes. You swear he’s not paying attention whatsoever, but he’s acing the tests and the quizzes. He’s at the top of the class, no matter the subject. He’s got his nose buried in a book or his notebook most of the time.

It was his amber eyes that drew you in. Most of the time you only got to see one as he covers the other with his bangs. He rarely smiles, which also draws you in. Everyone else is dressed in business attire, whereas Kento wears business casual. And he’s very heavy on the casual side of things.

But due to his academic successes and good grades, nobody is batting an eyelash at him. Seemingly you might be the only person in these classes that is even remotely interested in him. One thing that really caught your eye was his collection of pins on his jacket.

You approach him one day after class, and he shoots you a confused look. Everyone is leaving the classroom, but you wanted to get to know him more. You wanted to approach him. And the minute you do, you notice not only does he have a look of confusion on his face, but he’s also blushing.

“You’re Nanami-san, yes?” You inquire, even if you know the answer.

He pulls his bag over his shoulder, “Y-yes. That’s me.”

You introduce yourself and extend your hand out to him, “Nice to meet you. I really like your pin.”

When he doesn’t shake your hand, you point at the cute little GIR pin on his lapel. Not many people you know have watched Invader Zim. He sort of looks at you in shock for a minute before turning away. 

“Thanks, see ya.”

And you don’t approach him for another few weeks after that first encounter. You wonder if he’s just shy or if he’s abrasive. He seems so cute in your eyes. So you push yourself to make an effort to talk to him more.

The second time, you invite him out to lunch. He doesn’t outright say yes, but he also doesn’t say no. He begins to follow you to the cafe just outside of the campus. You both order a coffee and sit in silence for a little bit.

“How’d you find the test?” You ask him, taking a sip of your coffee.

He shrugs, “It was fine.”

“You must be very smart. You’re at the top of our class.”

He blushes and shrugs once more, “I don’t know. It’s just not too hard for me.”

The conversation dies down before you head over to the counter and order two sandwiches. Then you return with the two plates and Kento is confused. It’s been a long time since anyone has bought him lunch. He’s really not sure why someone as beautiful as you would even bother with him.

“Do you like the band The Used?”

Kento’s eyes widen, “Y-yeah! You like The Used?”

You nod. “Love ‘em! They are so awesome.”

This begins an acquaintanceship between you and Kento. You spend the lunch hour chatting about your favorite bands, your favorite manga and anime and of course, your favorite tv shows. You both discover very quickly that you have so much in common.

By the time lunch hour is over, you’re both upset that you’ll have to end the conversation. You see Kento in a whole new light, and him…he realizes that there are still some good people in this world.

The next time you two meet, you invite him to your dorm room. He’s never been invited to someone’s dorm since he enrolled, so he’s a little nervous about it. Not to mention the fact that he thinks he’s developing a crush on you. This coupled with the fact that he’s entirely a virgin scares him. Nevertheless, he makes his way to your dorm and knocks on the door. In his other hand is a bag of snacks and drinks to share with you.

“Kento-kun! Nice to see you! Come in,” you greet him in such a sunny way. Your demeanor was beginning to remind him of someone from his past.

He smiles shyly, “Thanks.”

He makes his way into your little space. Despite it being small, you’ve managed to make it feel so nice and cozy. It’s well decorated with band posters, comfy furniture and even a little kitchenette area. He’s surprised that you could make such a small place look so much like a home.

“Sit down,” you motion to the couch. “I’ll get us some cups.”

You return to the living room area of the room and join him on the couch. On your little TV, you have some old anime playing. Kento is immediately sucked in. You find the drinks in his bag and pour the drinks. Your fingers brush against his when you pass him the cup. He shudders from the sudden contact, hiding it by returning his attention to the TV.

“You like this?” You gesture to the TV.

He nods, “Yeah, this is Ninja Scroll, right?”

“Yeah! I didn’t think anyone was still interested in this sort of stuff.”

You and Kento begin a conversation about anime and the movie that’s playing. You both can’t stop talking to each other. It’s just like the conversation continues to flow so naturally between the two of you. The more you conversed., the more you found yourself liking him. He’s cute, knowledgeable and not like a lot of the other guys you’ve met.

As the conversation dies down, both of you sit in a comfortable semi-silence. The movie comes to a point where the romance is noticeable. You feel your heart pumping a little faster when you look at Kento again.

He’s blushing as his eyes lock with yours. He’s never even kissed before, but he’s not stupid. He knows where you want to take this relationship, but he’s so damn scared to fuck it up. There’s got to be some sort of false confidence he could display.

Yet the minute your soft lips press against his, he knows you’re going to be able to suss out his inexperience within seconds. He doesn’t know how to kiss you back, so he sits there stunned. His hands are shaking as you sit even closer to him. And then when you pull away, you notice the look on his face.

“Shit, I am so sorry, Kento. I thought…well, I thought maybe you wanted to make-out.”

Kento’s cheeks burn even more, “I-I do, I just… Idon’tknowhowto.”

You can barely make out what he’s just said. But the sentiment is there and you pick it apart. He’s never made out before. Your brain turns this information over a few times and then it clicks. That was probably his first kiss. You begin to blush and apologize profusely.

“I am so sorry, I thought that maybe…”

Then he surprises you. He kisses you. It’s sloppy and harsh, but you appreciate it all the same. Your hand reaches out to cup his face, and he shudders again. You’re so soft and you smell so good and the feeling of your lips on his makes his heart race. When he pulls away, he’s the one apologizing.

“Don’t even say you’re sorry. That was a sweet kiss.”

Then the two of you turn to face each other. The tension could be cut with a knife. You reach out to cup his face again, pulling him even closer. His hands shake as he tries to caress you, but he’s just not even sure what to do. You lead him through another kiss, this time you deepen it just a bit more.

His fists stay clenched at his side for the first part of this kiss, then you gently reach out to intertwine your fingers with his. The minute you do this, he melts into the kiss.

Then you pull away, leaning your forehead against his. Your hands are so soft against his face. He nuzzles his face into your palm before he leans in once more. This time, Kento takes the lead which surprises you. He pins you down on the couch with his body weight.

The kisses that follow are so tentative and slow. He’s learning how to be less sloppy and more precise. He’s gaining confidence the more you two explore, and soon you feel his hands on your sides. He caresses you so softly, almost like he’s afraid you’re going to slip away and end up being some figment of his imagination.

“You’re a good kisser,” you compliment him when you both pull away to breathe.

“T-thanks…you were my first.”

You cup his cheeks, “I know that, baby.”

Then your lips meet in another sweet kiss. But this time you surprise him by gliding your tongue along his bottom lip. Kento freezes for a moment, then he parts his lips.

‘So soft, so sweet…tastes so good.’ His mind is racing with thoughts like this. ‘Wanna taste her even more…’

Your tongues rub and roll together sensually. Soon you feel him grinding against you and you notice just how hard he is. His erection is poking against your thigh. And as much as you want to keep going, you think it’s probably for the best that you pace these things out.

So you pull away, leaving Kento panting and looking so dazed. He’s so sweet like this. This is the cutest look on his face you have ever seen. His lips try to chase yours a little, but you pull back just enough. Then you caress his cheek.

“Let’s slow this down, yeah?”

He swallows hard. “Oh uhm…yeah okay.”

You notice his disappointment, “I just don’t want you to rush into this. Let’s make this something special,”

He finally nods and smiles. His heart feels full of affection for you. This was exactly what he needed after all the trauma in his life. You were truly someone who cared and you were looking out for him.

You kiss his cheek. “Don’t worry. I really like you. I’m not kicking you out.”

He smiles shyly, “Okay cool. Can we maybe cuddle?”

You wrap your arms around him and bring him even closer. His head rests on your chest and you two fall into the blissful happiness of cuddles.

[r0se1111]

can i get uhhhhhh domestic life in retirement with Ford where we grow old(er) together please and thank youuuuuu 🙏

Yessss >o<

Guys he's sooo domestic-husband-coded you don't understand....

OKok so. Keeping with canon, I do think Stan and Ford still go on their brother boat adventure™️ even with you in the picture, and you kinda hang out at the Mystery Shack for a bit. You help keep things afloat while they're gone etc etc. BUT of course this man calls home whenever he's on land and had access to a phone. He also writes you letters with drawings, photos, and little souvenirs of his travels.

When he returns you are soso happy to see him and he gives you a very cliched swept off your feet kiss. He tells you he's a bit out-adventured for a bit and just wants to stay at home with you for a bit and make up for those lost 30 years.

Get ready for the most wonderful cozy warm domestic bliss you've ever experienced. Waking up in the morning to his fluffy hair all askew as he blinks at you, smiling and calling you beautiful despite not being able to see a thing without his glasses. Stealing all his sweaters (including the turtleneck) to combat the cold pacific northwest mornings and nights. You take turns making coffee for each other in the morning, and on days where you have plans and really need some food in you, he makes his pancakes (a recipe he's been perfecting since he's been back. He loves you, but no he won't tell you what's in them).

Omg you guys sometimes have a little breakfast in bed moment and geez you're so old (affectionate). Him in his glasses, you with your hair all messy, both of you bundled in robes as you read together to get the sleepy groggy cobwebs out of your eyes and heads. Sitting side by side in bed with your breakfast trays and digging in while chatting about whatever.

He insists on still getting a physical morning paper, so most of these mornings are spent sitting at the dining table with coffee and waffles, your feet propped up on his lap as he fills out a crossword puzzle in record time with one hand and rubs your feet and calves with the other.

Gosh you guys are attached at the hip at this point in your lives. Grocery shopping? He's there pushing the cart as you meticulously scan shelves for all you need, occasionally piping up with his own personal preferences on pasta sauce brand or validity of certain buy 2 get 1 half off coupons. Quick stop at the mall? He waits dutifully outside the changing room, ready to give you glowing reviews of whatever you're trying on and holding up his own suggestions with a smile and a quick "this color would look wonderful with your undertones dear!" Yes he's color analyzed you

He's so helpful and genuine in his excitement to do these mundane tasks with you. One night he admits when times got hard during his interdimensional travels, he would daydream about just going to do laundry with you at a dingy coin-operated joint, sitting on the counter next to you and watching your clothes swirl round and round, intertwining with each other until you couldn't tell where his started and yours ended.

Your evenings are either spent on a date or making dinner at your place. If it's a date, he will have asked you out in advance and you better believe he's bringing you flowers or wine or chocolate or something cheesy like that. If you guys decide to stay in, you scan old cookbooks for something tasty sounding and dance around each other in matching "kiss the cook" aprons while one of you prepares a side and the other sets the table. Neither of you resist the temptation of kissing the other cook (ba-dum-tss) or of darting a tongue out mid-kiss to taste your partner's progress on their glaze or sauce.

Ford still is getting used to the idea of sharing a bed with you, but in a very sweetly nervous way. He knows his sleep schedule is a bit messed up still and he really doesn't want to worry or bother you. Some nights you fall asleep and wake up to him passed out on his desk with about 4 mugs of coffee surrounding him. On lucky (and increasingly more common) nights, he sleeps in bed with you. How he's so warm you have no idea, but you're not about to complain when he pulls you against him and rubs his hands down your arms and hips, all the while rambling about some documentary he'd watched that day which "you would really have found so fascinating, love." His clear and calm voice normally lulls you to sleep, but if he's unintentionally keeping you up with his roundabout descriptions, this is easily remedied with a kiss.

A kiss anywhere really, from as innocent to his forehead (you gently push back the stormcloud of his hair to press your lips as close to his wonderful mind as they can get) to something more suggestive like his neck or chest (left deliciously exposed in those relaxed V-necks you'd bought him one Christmas, a completely unselfish gift, might you add) is enough to get Ford to pause and glance over at you with a sort of are we gonna...???;) look. Whether you do or don't, any sort of physical affection is enough to have him sleepy soon. The two of you curl together, sharing breath for how close you are. And every night he gets to hold you like this and think about your wonderfully mundane and predictable lives, Ford thanks whatever higher power that put you into his life that he's back, and that you're his.

[isabellamagic]

Diana and 47 things I commissioned part 3, aka my favorite batch

Let's kick it off with the thing that actually started this entire "isa throws money into the fire for hitman commissions" journey

Airport chibis

I wanted a custom fourana figure so I made the drawing above for the clay artist to follow (I had more refs but this was the main part)

For the figure, I love the hair shading, it's super cool, the way the artist matched my chair design 1:1 was pretty neat, and the tiny bag next to Diana was so carefully made, it's impressive

One thing to note is that I wasn't given any updates during the figure making progress, so I'm a little bummed about it. The expression didn't 100% match my idea, and the way they sit wasn't really natural lol. I had to do some adjustments after I received the figures (paint smears, cracks, leaning issues), so I wish they had allowed me to give feedback during the process

This was the first thing I commissioned, while it took a while to be finished (sep 2023-july 2024), I do like how they turned out, quirks and all

Bonus agent burnwood and miss 47, and also my nails I guess

Tiny posable dolls

Once again, my drawing was used as a reference. These cost so much for such a tiny size that I would probably never do it again lmao ($150!!!!!!)

I do have nendoroid dolls in mind for the future though, but they will require more time since I have to source many parts like faceplates, hair sculpts, outfits, shoes ect

Despite the insane price, these are indeed very cute, and I'm glad my design was just slapped onto their faces, they look like my drawings have come to life and that's super cool

Last but not least,

Papercut drawing based on @/inuitaiyo's fanart:

+ desk setup, I finally found clothes for the plushies

I saw SUN's fanart years ago and it's been lingering in my mind ever since, so when I found an artist that can do papercut drawings, my mind immediately went to that artwork. It's my favorite 47 diana fanart, it's so subtle and amazing, and SUN's gorgeous style was the cherry on top. I'm glad that the artist I worked with managed to capture what I love about the original artwork

I had total control over the entire process of this comm, so I added a neat little detail: If you look under Diana's hair, you can kinda see her eyes looking down at 47's lips ehehehe. I made sure that was gonna happen no matter what lol. I'm so happy it worked so well

That's all for now. Next time should hopefully be me finally getting custom fourana nendoroid dolls + a 1/6 scale mendoza diana doll. We'll see, money is a limited resource after all

One more link to SUN's art to end this because I think it deserves so much more love

[owlyflufff]

Something about Bokuto growing familiar with Akaashi's handwriting throughout their high school years, whether it's through little notes on how to improve that Akaashi leaves for him or the way caught Akaashi writing little tidbits of writing in a notebook or two.

Still Bokuto Koutarou remembers Akaashi Keiji's handwriting very well, it's a lot more elegant than his. He can recognize the particular way some letters are written, signs of something so precise, accurate and careful. It's very Akaashi-like.

By the time they've parted ways (or if Bokuto graduating but still going into the gym regardless to see Akaashi and the new recruits is considered parting ways), Akaashi's handwriting is still as memorable and recognizable to him. Bokuto knows it the same way he knows Akaashi so well.

Though merely sending a text message is more convenient and easier by a long mile, Bokuto decides to write a letter to Akaashi during his college days. Nothing admittedly prompts him to do it (he's always been one to try different things afterall), but he does it anyway, picking up pen and paper and humming a little tune as he crafts little stories, tales and experiences with his words.

His rambles and thoughts only for Akaashi and Akaashi to bear witness to.

A few days after sending the letter, no response. Akaashi doesn't bring it up either in text messages or conversation and for a little while Bokuto considers maybe it was a bit too silly of an idea.

Until a letter slips underneath his door and Bokuto doesn't even need to read where it came from before he's swiftly opening the envelope.

There is something to be said about seeing Akaashi's handwriting again. He misses it.

His finger gently trails along the paper, a soft smile on his lips as he reads Akaashi's response and his own tidbits of stories and tales, the chaos that is being Fukurodani's captain now in his stead. It doesn't take long before Bokuto is reaching for his pen and paper once more, writing another letter with just as much enthusiasm.

The exchange of letters between them last longer than Bokuto expected, but it would be an understatement to say he was happy in regards to it.

There is one day however, that Bokuto notices something is amiss.

Perhaps his eyes are just deceiving him, but he notices how some of the words are tangled. They aren't written the same way Bokuto recognizes them, not as careful as he had remembered them to be. It's a little odd to say the least but Bokuto merely assumes that it's just a little off detail and goes on, pen and paper already on the table as he writes back a response.

It gets worse.

The soft smile that was once there draws into a frown on Bokuto's lips as Bokuto notices how Akaashi's handwriting gets progressively messier. With every letter that he receives the words on the letter are getting harder to read, ink splatters and smudges on the paper. It doesn't help that the paragraphs start to get shorter and shorter with each passing letter Akaashi sends back.

Bokuto knows Akaashi's handwriting far too well but he knows Akaashi Keiji even more. Something is definitely wrong.

He's a new member of the MSBY team by then, having not been able to visit Akaashi as frequently when Akaashi also graduated. However this time he doesn't waste time, purchasing a ticket and making it over to Akaashi's apartment.

He doesn't know if it's a blessing or curse that his hunch was right.

There is something to be said about seeing someone so dear to you, with far too dark and deep circles under their eyes, room as though a whirlwind had disrupted and destroyed the former order he once recognized and Akaashi -- Akashi who had order at the forefront of his mind, Akaashi who gave reminders and ensuring Bokuto was on track, Akaashi who was always so careful and steady, now huddled up by his desk with trembling hands.

And if Bokuto stays the night, hugging him close and whispering nothing but soothing words to save him from another breakdown. If he shares the bed, letting Akaashi get the sleep he so desperately needed against the crook of his neck, watching over him and pulling him closer into his embrace. If he visits more often than once, bringing food and stories that start to slowly put a smile on Akaashi's face once more, no one would ever need to know save for the two of them.

Well kept moments shared and cherished between them, just like each other's letters they've kept and collected throughout the years. A stack of them safe and sitting snugly in a corner of their bedrooms.

They don't write letters to each other anymore. Instead there are sticky notes on a refrigerator, of food that needs to be purchased, chores to be done and little reminders. Of little doodles within folded paper sneaked into each other's bags, consisting of owls, hearts and smiley faces.

There's no need to write about their everyday lives, not when they get to share it constantly now within the confines of their shared apartment.

And as Bokuto looks to the side, seeing Akaashi leaning against his shoulder and writing something on a few drafts for Udai's next manga, he notices the handwriting once more. It's not as messy as it used to be, but neither is it the same manner Bokuto had grown to recognize. It's getting there though, slowly returning to same careful, steady and eased handwriting he had cherished silently throughout the years.

He kisses Akaashi's head, and knows that it's enough.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

rich girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as bullying, manipulation, cheating, noncon/dubcon, Lloyd being Lloyd, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your long awaited ascension to the Home Owners Association proves more than you bargained for. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, side of Cole Turner

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

Marge plays with the perfect slip of her bleach blond hair. Her lips glisten a shade of pink that reminds you of watermelon and her long lashes perfectly frame her crystal blue eyes. She is the perfect suburban housewife, the leader of the pack. 

The other women look to her as a beacon; they dress like her, speak like her, even try to walk like her. As you look around the tables, the cookie cutter women are almost interchangeable. You don't quite fit the mould but you've contorted yourself as best you can. 

It's your first meeting as part of the Home Owners Association. In your three long years in the suburb, it's been your ultimate goal. Well, it was Cole's. Your husband says you need to keep busy and what better opportunity to make friends. Maybe a great opportunity but not an easy one. 

Your husband just wants the best for you. You know that. Otherwise you wouldn't be living in this gorgeous suburb and your dream house. How could you want anything more? 

Now, you can't. You've done it. You've achieved it all. An HOA member among the privileged and the pretty.  

Caroline clears her throat and you look up. She stares at your french tips tapping on the table. You give a sheepish smile and stop yourself. You can't help it, you're nervous. 

As exciting as it all it, you almost want it to just be over. You want to run home and tell Cole all about it. About how you're one of them.  

You fan yourself with your hand, the sun beating down on the green lawn set with at least half a dozen tables. You're sweating through your foundation and the highlighter and the layers you felt were redundant. Your mascara is starting to stick. You glance over at Mitzy, there is even a trickle of sweat along her dark hairline. How? 

You cross your leg over the other and focus on Marge as she calls attention to the front table. There, her closest allies break bread; Callie who you often mistake for Marge, Olivia and her strawberry blond locks, Eleanor, and older member who kept her hair highlighted and draws her brows on, and Shanice, the youngest of any member, even yourself. 

"Alright, ladies, let's get to business," Marge calls out. You reach for your glass and find the mimosa drained. Right, you drank it all. You set it back and press together your wet fingertips. "Today, we have a new member!" 

Applause rolls through the crowd and you sit up straight, unhooking your leg as you look around meekly. You smile, cheeks tight and your lips tremble. You're so happy but so terrified. 

"And we know how we welcome new members. Honey, please come down," Marge says. 

You take a breath and stand. You gulp and tense your calves as you make a slow progress across the yard, fighting to keep your heels from sinking into the grass. As you reach the front table, your fearless leader welcomes you with a outstretched arm. 

"Our new members get to take on their very own HOA mission," Marge explains as Callie stands, a clipboard in her hands. She comes around beside her longlost twin, "so, Calliope, what do we have?" 

Marge leans over and the two review the clipboard. They hem and haw, muttering. 

"No, Mary is handling that already," Callie says, "these are the new ones." 

They confer then peek back at their table mates, "ladies, please, 14.1b. Do we agree?" 

The women look down at the pink folders and open them, fingertips brushing over paper to find the point in question. The look at each other but something in their expressions is uneasy. Marge clears her throat. 

"Well?" 

"Mm," Eleanor taps her nail on the folder, "yes, I think it will do." 

The others nod, though Shanice does so hesitantly.  

"Marvelous," Marge declares and flips the pages of the clipboard, wiggling free a pristine white envelope with the stamp of the HOA on the sealed flap. She holds it up, presenting it to the audience. 

"By our next meeting, you will report back," Marge declares, "deliver this to the house on the label. Callie," she pushes the clipboard away, "give her the briefing of the issue before she goes. Now we will check in on action items." Marge struts away as Callie pulls loose a sheet of paper and hands it over, "good luck." 

You take it and fold it around the envelope as Marge calls up Erin to present her progress in getting Suzette on Oakfront to remove her Venus statue. You return to your own table, near the back, and sit. Caroline sighs and you glance over at her. 

"What house?" She whispers. 

You let the paper unfold and show her the envelope label. She sniffs and squeezes your elbow, "oh, honey." 

You frown and look down. You stare at the address, you're not sure you're familiar with it. 17 Willow Drive. That's not too far from Elmwood where you live. Should be easy enough. 

💄

You review the directive on the slip of paper. Instead of going straight home, you head a few streets past your house to 17 Willow. You stand across the road in front of 16 and chew your lip. ‘Warning to be delivered to front door. Have occupant sign to acknowledge receipt.’ 

You sigh. You don’t like being the bearer of bad news. You wonder what exactly the homeowner did wrong. Their lawn is tidy and trimmed, the hedges meet the standards of the HOA guidelines, and nothing else sticks out from the row of suburban mansions.  

You cross the street and flick the envelope with your thumb. You hover just outside the gate in your kitten heels. You feel bad already. 

You reach over the white pickets and unclasp the gate. You stroll up the walk, admiring the landscaping. Huh. Paint colour falls within the standard and no unseemly ornaments. You can’t figure out why you’re here. 

You climb the steps and approach the front door. You tap the doorbell and wait, looking around aimlessly. You clutch the paper and envelope tight as your heart races. Maybe all this isn’t for you. You thought the HOA was more a women’s club; they had a book club and social nights and all that stuff, you didn’t really think about the nitty gritty of it all. 

You lean on your left foot, letting your ankle bend.  

“What do you want, toots?” A voice asks from the speaker of the doorbell cam. 

You smile. You didn’t reapply your lipstick. You bend slightly and wave at the lens. 

“Um, hello,” you give your name before you continue, “I’m part of the HOA. I have um, I have something for you.” 

You hear a click. You wait. You check your apple watch as the time stretches on. You peek behind you again then turn back to the front door. You hit the bell again. 

“Leave it in the slot,” the voice growls, “busy.” 

“Oh, right, erm, I do need you to sign--” 

“Christ fuckin’ sakes.” 

The speaker dies out again and you wince at the profanity. Oh, great, he’s already upset. You bounce on your heels and sway. You don’t do well with anger. 

You hear the lock on the inner door twist and you take a breath. You steel yourself and plaster your smile in place. You see a shadow inside then the screen door opens to a naked man with only a hand towel to cover his most intimate spot. He drapes it just in front of his pelvis but you keep your eyes above board. 

“Sorry, I--” 

“I told you, I’m busy,” he snarls, his mustache bristling on his curled lip. 

You swallow and your smile threatens to break. Maybe you should’ve listened and just come back later. You’re speechless as all your mental preparation flutters away. 

“Sir, I, er, I--” 

“Enjoying the view, sweet cheeks?” He scoffs and sends you a wink, “should I lift the towel or what?” 

“Uh, no, please, don’t,” you put your hands up, the envelope nearly slipping from your grasp. “I...” You blink at him. His grey hair droops crookedly, the top longer than the trimmed sides. “Here, er, I just need you to read this and sign--” 

He snatches the letter with one hand and turns it over to look at the HOA stamp. He rolls his eyes. He brings his other hand up, the towel clamped between two fingers and you block out his lower half with your palm and look up. He rips the envelope in two and drops it. 

“You can tell the bimbos to fuck off,” He kicks the remnants towards you, “now if you’ll excuse me, lube’s drying up.” 

He lets the door fall shut and spins around, giving a view of his ass before he slams the inner door. You gasp and bend to gather up the destroyed letter. You quickly retreat, cheeks burning in horror. 

Now you know why Caroline seemed so concerned. 

[yallthemwitches]

A Hundred Visions and Revisions

She loves him like this: sleepy, slap happy, sometimes a bit handsy but willing to meet her where she’s at in the moment. It’s the quiet moments like this that keep her going sometimes, knowing that whatever is happening out there will disappear by the end of the day when they can hold each other again.

Rated T, Read below the cut or on AO3 Here!

Like usual, she’s already splayed herself across the couch, too enraptured in her book to notice the portrait hole swing open. Spotting her, he makes a show of staggering across the room, dropping his broom idly to the floor with a groan while soaking in the way her lips twitch behind the page in an attempt to ignore him. Making it around the couch, he gives no preamble and collapses against her with an oof, enjoying her small squeaks of surprise as he nuzzles his face into her clavicle. 

“Practice was bad?” Her eyes settle back on the page and a hand finds its way into his hair, fingering the ends that have been shocked into fractured points by the winter wind. 

“Horrible, awful, downright contemptible.”

“That many adjectives, huh.” 

He grunts, scooting his body down further so his head is cradled into her chest, arms snaking around her sides to find the place where her shirt has gotten untucked to draw circles into skin. It has become a tradition of sorts—she waits for him after practice, holding court in front of the common room fireplace and making herself look too irresistible to not fall into the second he returns. It’s a shame they only have one year of school left to enjoy it. 

 She tries to go back to reading, but he continues to sigh, each more theatrical than the last, fingers starting to tickle and pinch at her waist rather than caress. 

“If you want attention, just say so,” she says behind the book, mouth pressed into a tight line but her eyes sparkling.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll just lay here…suffering.”

She snorts, and he presses a victory smile into her skin. “You’re so spoiled.”

“Apparently not spoiled enough to get a little love from my girlfriend in my time of need.” He groans, wiggling his hips against her.

“When are you not in your time of need.” She murmurs, deadpan, but her hand moves to the back of his neck, slowly massaging the muscles that hide just under his tangle of hair. She feels him relax under her ministrations, finally abandoning his ‘woe is me’ act to let his body meld against hers. 

“What are you reading?” He asks after moments of silence, eyes fluttering closed from the rise and fall of her chest. 

“Oh, some book about sex magic. Some absolute nutter muggle wrote it—complete madness but fun to read.”

“Sex Magic you say?”  Suddenly he is wide awake, propping himself up and arching an eyebrow from over the book. She eyes him warily and tries to ignore the fingers that have wasted no time to drift upwards and play with the buttons of her shirt. He swoops down, pressing his lips to her neck. 

“Don’t get so excited, Potter. It’s a load of bunk.”

He hums, already undoing her topmost button and moving to kiss the skin there. 

“I dunno—-maybe we should test it out first…get a first hand account.” He gets another button undone and she makes a noise between a laugh and a moan. 

“I’m not very keen on being topless in the middle of the common room so if you could kindly quit it—-“

“You didn’t seem to mind it the other night,” he quips back and enjoys the view of her skin flushing from her cheeks all the way past where he can see under her uniform. 

“James.”

“Fine,” he whines. He stops his progress on her shirt and gives her exposed sternum one last kiss before settling his head back down, hands moving back to encircle her.

“You’re a tease, Evans. A dirty, rotten siren taking advantage of my poor knackered heart.”

She cradles him against her, letting one hand slide back through his hair while the other caresses his back. She loves him like this: sleepy, slap happy, sometimes a bit handsy but willing to meet her where she’s at in the moment. It’s the quiet moments like this that keep her going sometimes, knowing that whatever is happening out there will disappear by the end of the day when they can hold each other again. 

They lay in a comfortable silence for a while, the fire crackling low beside them. She can feel James’ breath start to steady against her, somehow keeping his grip tight on her despite sleep setting in.

“Hey James?” 

“Hmmm?” He nestles his nose down into her, hands grasping tighter at her waist. 

“Have you thought about it at all?”

“Shagging in the common room? All the time.”

She snorts, shaking him a bit. “No, you git—about Dumbledore’s offer.”

His eyes remain closed but his mouth sinks into a small line against her. 

“Nothing to think about—-I’m all in.”

She fidgets under him and the bottom of his jersey rides up, exposing some of his midriff. Absent-mindedly, she runs her hand over the skin, rubbing anxious circles.

“And your offer from the Canons? That’s a pretty big deal.”

“When the war is over, I can try out again.” 

“And if they don’t let you?”

He props up on his chin, looking up to see her staring off beyond the common room. “Then I’ll look into another profession– like magical artifacts or becoming your indentured servant.”

He expects her to crack a smile at his joke, but her eyes continue to look away, seeing something that feels much bigger than job prospects.

“Lily?”

She shakes her head like trying to dispel smoke. He sits up, swinging her legs so they now rest over his, hips flush together. Taking her cheek in his palm, he forces her to look at him and he sees tears just harboring past the surface. 

“I know it’s silly—but can you tell me the future? The way you see it.” she whispers, curling into him so the top of her head can rest right under his chin, book falling abandoned down onto the floor. She knows he’s no divination master–she’s seen his grades to prove it—but they both know that’s not what she’s asking.

“Well–” 

He stares into the fire, watching as the embers slowly lower and diminish one by one. It’s hard to ignore the feeling of encapsulation–that they are just children needing to concoct stories to make it all worth it. Her fingers play with the bottom of his jersey, anxiously awaiting his turn to spin this night’s fable, probably one of many before the war lets up.

“Well, first and most important, we will still be madly in love—sickenly so.” 

She makes a noise and he can feel a smile break through for the first time that evening. 

“Sickenly you say? Says who?”

“Says everyone who is jealous that they can’t be us. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you as it is our current reality—obviously.”

“Obviously.” she echoes, before muttering arrogant under her breath. 

“We will fight for the Order, beat out Voldemort, and have an incredible victory shag afterwards—”

She hums against his chest and he can feel some of the warmth coming back to her.

“Who knew it was so simple—have you told Dumbledore this strategy?” She turns her head up to flick his nose and he kisses the tip of hers in return. 

“I did–he was shocked he never thought of it actually–said the last bit was particularly vital…”

She can’t help but laugh. “Sometimes it’s like your head deflated but landed right in the gutter.” 

She continues to look up at him, eyes getting more brilliant as her tension melts.  “Go on then—Voldemort’s miraculously easy defeat, victory shag…ok what else?”

He lowers his lips to her ear and lets them skim against the shell. “We get married.”

Suddenly both of their heartbeats fall into overdrive. He flashes his eyes down to see her cheeks are bubbling with pink, eyes wide and targeted right at him. 

“And what part of the sequence does that occur?” Her voice is barely a whisper and he notices her hands have stalled against him, frozen mid-fiddle with the fabric. 

“Well,” he knows she can feel his heart jumping against her, but he doesn’t care, “I was hoping during the exposition or rising action portion of the plot rather than the conclusion.”

Her eyes are dancing, surely from the fire that continues to drop beads of light into her hair and face. 

“And you don’t think that’s…unwise, seeing we’ve only been dating officially five months.”

His eyes meet hers, now devoid of jest.

“It’s not like being wise has ever been in my wheelhouse anyways.”

She could fight it—tell him it’s a mad idea to be thinking about marriage at a time like this, in a time where every passing day seems less sure than the last. But something about it feels too enticing to pass up—the image of them in a home all their own, sitting just like they are now but more solid and sure of themselves, leaning into the domesticity and adoration of it all because they can. 

 She worries if she ruminates on it too much, it will be painful to let go when the time comes.

“And we won’t bicker?”

“Not anymore than married people do—or we do now I guess I should say.”

“And you will make me breakfast everyday, in bed?” 

“Evans, if you’re my wife I’ll do anything anything you ask of me. My occupation is indentured servant, remember?” He is trying to stay light, but she can tell he means it. 

She wishes she could dream like he can—see beyond the rubbish and focus solely on the parts that can work. It’s simultaneously what she is jealous of and admires in him, the bright side is always where he wants to be. 

“James—” Its a warning: a warning that perhaps he is flying too close to the sun. A warning that perhaps it’s too tempting not to accept it. A warning that at this moment, it might be too much. 

But she doesn't need to say anymore. He pulls her closer to his chest, catching the top of her head under the crook of his chin and locking her there against him. 

“Don’t worry, this isn’t me proposing—just…just dreaming.” He lets the last word hang there, and Lily watches the image of them in their house with their happy life become clouded and technicolor. A fantasy. 

Suddenly, the thought of losing it terrifies her. 

“A good dream—a nice dream.,” She doesn’t know who she is assuring more, herself or him. “Something I want too.”

She feels his body heat rise, hands finding the end strands of her hair and curling his fingers through them. 

“Yeah?” His hope, like most other aspects of him, is contagious.

“Don’t get too excited Potter—there’s a lot that can happ—“

“Shh, Evans,” he says, grabbing her face, hands shaking with unparalleled joy. In his eyes the dream still lingers and she doesn’t want to ever look away.

“Let me kiss you—our dream can wait, but let me kiss you now.” 

[f1version]

BARBARA ROBERTS ★ DTN SERIES

series’ masterlist

An old chapter is reopened, that force and distinction that drove Barbara Roberts to the top of F1 for two consecutive years, back home. Malibu Racing is a new temple, the extension of a legacy.

Barbara Roberts, Team Principal and CEO of Malibu Racing F1 Team has her origins tied to history books. A two-time world champion whose on-track abilities couldn’t be ignored. A fierce competitor who came back for more.

At the young age of four, Barbara began chasing the excitement behind the wheel, observing karting races closely, going home, and developing her talent with each lap of her uncle’s old kart. She found happiness in speed, enjoyed visiting the Phoenix Street Circuit each year, obsessed over the Indy500, and watched Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost challenge each other throughout the years. Suddenly, she began to dream about a hot-pink car, all her notebooks filled with drawings of it. She, as well as her family, then understood that racing was a fire that needed to be fueled.

Roberts made her kart racing debut at the age of eight, and after winning her first race, it was a matter of time before her name was engraved on several US-based kart championship trophies. However, further progress would require expanding horizons, which prompted the Roberts to move across the ocean in 1994, supporting Barbara for what could be a challenging career. 

Europe was fast, she stayed faster. By fourteen her collection of kart titles included national, international, and world championships. Every race and practice aimed for that unattainable perfection, being aware of the judging eyes on each step she took. At 16 years old, Roberts was fearless, deciding to pursue another dream of hers, an engineering career. She used to say that the pressure was a reminder of what was yet to come.

Pieces began to fall into place, Barbara embarked on single-seaters as soon as age allowed it. Her first title in Monoposto Racing Club was followed by titles in Formula BMW ADAC, Formula Renault, and the Formula 3 Euro Series — all consecutive titles. And bound to keep the momentum, she started hunting for a seat in Formula One, closing the deal with BMW Williams in a reserve capacity for 2004 and securing a race seat for the 2005 season. 

Debuting at 21, Barbara spent her year fighting at the midfield in struggling machinery, yet was able to finish 10th in the World Championship, once again pouring ink on paper for what would be BMW Sauber in 2006. An improvement in reliability for her sophomore season placed Roberts on track for her maiden Grand Prix victory in the streets of Monaco, an unbelievable, emotional, and well-remembered drive that holds her in the tracks’ spotlight to this day.

For the 2007 season, Scuderia Ferrari took the bet on two young talents: Barbara Roberts and Kimi Räikkönen, giving both drivers the exact same 3-year-contract and an opportunity to make history. 

The pair held a fiery battle all season, ending in one of the most astonishing title deciders in the sport’s history, where the world championship rested on their number of wins due to a tie in the points. The crown sealed on Räikkönen, but Barbara’s own would arrive that very next year, securing it after 8 wins and 15 total podiums.

In her final year of mastery, Roberts became a double World Champion after a year-long battle against Brawn’s Jenson Button, three points separating them. And despite being contracted to race in 2010, Roberts decided to leave F1 behind at the end of the 2009 season.

After her F1 retirement, Barbara has taken on different roles and challenges throughout the years. In 2011 revealing her retirement's original reason, Roberts announced her new position as CEO of her family’s emblematic automobile manufacturer, Malibu Motors, linking nostalgia with modernity. In 2016, they held the biggest car launch in history, presenting one supercar and seven SUVs which resulted into having six of those as the bestselling cars of the year. In 2017, Malibu Motors became part of the Formula 3 engine programme, making the public think that was her only form of a comeback to motorsport. Yet, one year later, a victory in the 24 Hours of Le Mans was waiting for her and former rivals, Fernando Alonso and Jenson Button. And, in for 2019, she begun sponsoring multiple young women across motorsport, mentoring those in the path to Formula One.

Important figures of the sport, old colleagues, and the public, believed Barbara would be back in the car sooner or later, but after fourteen years, she has opted for a different path. A decade-long project becomes reality in 2023, with two hot-pink cars flying on track, resembling Barbie’s old childhood drawings.

★ Malibu Racing F1 ⓒ 2023

THE PINK MEMBERSHIP — @lorarri @fefieverywhere @inejghafawifesblog @lenean7 @boiohboii @monacokisses @nyxblessed @whenelisefallsinlove @peachiicherries @folklorelvrr @spencerrxids @destourtereaux @lovelytsunoda @landonorizzz @love4lando @evans-dejong @cielolercs @mae119 @spacius @almostjollypizza @elliegrey2803 @thatsadsmallchild @formulaoneluver33 @obsessed-fan-alert @teamspideyman @mikauraur @goldsainz @iamk-shale @fefieverywhere @be-your-coffee-pot @asian-vulcan @schumacheer @opheliaas-stuff @satellitelh @sialexia @folkloresreputation . . . join the taglist here

[seresinhangmanjake]

Birthday Boy

Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: It’s Jake’s birthday and you have a very special gift for him.

Warnings: this is just a mega fluff monster (i think, anyway). Jake’s all happy being a dad and being in love with his lady and everything. Maybe cursing. Didn’t double check. Allusion to eventual smut that is not in this fic. Just to be safe:18+

Notes: can be read alone, but contributes to the Oh, Baby world as well. 

Words: 2422

Oh, Baby Masterlist

Masterlist

*turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing*

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Thirty-four. The number was speckled throughout his house. It was strung together as part of a lengthy banner that was taped to his wall; scribbled in green icing across the center of the vanilla cake you’d baked him with an equal number of rainbow-colored candles sticking out the top; and in the form of two massive shiny, floating balloons in the corner of the living room—Rooster’s addition to the decor, supposedly meant to tease Jake but were obviously brought for your daughter, Eve’s, amusement. And the little girl loved them, immediately crawling across the carpet to stare up at the mirror-like mylar that reflected her fascinated face. 

Jake had joked two weeks prior that he was getting old, so you’d taken it upon yourself to plan a party that reminded him of his younger days…his very young days. You’d gone all out, including everything for a kiddie party but the clowns and ponies. 

Initially, you weren’t sure how he’d take the surprise—he could see the worry in your twisted features when you observed his wide eyes and gaping mouth—but Jake only grabbed you around the waist and kissed you until everyone grew bored of watching a couple so lost in themselves. No one had ever quite done anything like this for him before. He’d had birthday parties, sure, plenty as a child, but not a single one after his mid-twenties, and never thrown by a woman he loved.

You’d still kept it small. Inviting your shared friends, a few other pilot buddies, Penny and Mav and a couple of the Hard Deck bartenders—one of whom was the pretty blonde Rooster had yet to completely get over despite the year that had passed since first meeting her. Clearly you knew something the rest of them didn’t when it came to the woman because you spent a good bit of time trying to push her and Rooster together. And if Jake could tell by the occasional glances he shot the two, it looked like some progress had been made. Good, Jake thought. He wanted his friends to have what he had.

By far, it was the best party he’d been to, fully surpassing the unknown number of wild nights he'd dedicated to getting hammered in college. Jake liked the intimacy of it all, even more so after it had died down and most guests returned to their own homes, leaving just you and his team remaining.

“Well,” Rooster began after taking a sip of the beer that you’d made sure to pour into a polka-dotted plastic cup, “I hope you enjoy being old, Hangman.”

Phoenix tucked her finger under the elastic band holding the cone-shaped hat to Rooster’s head and pulled it a good few inches away from his face before releasing it. It slapped harshly against his skin and with a frown, he rubbed his palm over the fresh sting.

“If he’s old, we’re all old,” she scolded. “And you should be nice to the birthday boy.”

“The birthday boy’s got enough nice things. He’s got his lovely lady.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes with a chuckle. Then he extended his finger to lightly tickle Eve’s cheek. “And he’s got this little nugget.” 

When his daughter giggled in his arms, Jake pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her hair. He smiled contently before turning his head to connect his lips with yours. You both grinned into the kiss, that usual fluttering blooming in his stomach as you placed your hand on his cheek to draw him in closer. 

“Ok,” Payback just short of shouted, trying to pull your and Jake's attention back to the surface. “You know other people are here, right? And you’ve got a child in your arms.”

Separating from Jake, you looked back to your group of friends. “That was an innocent kiss.”

Fanboy snorted and took a bite of his cake. “It was no peck,” he mumbled around a mouthful of sponge and frosting. 

Jake reached behind you to rest his hand against your lower back, but it lasted there all of five seconds before traveling lower to settle on your ass. "Well, that’s as innocent as we get," he said.

“Pathetic,” Rooster playfully scoffed. “Be less in love with each other.”

“Not a chance, man.”

Everyone released a mocking groan at the sappiness, but Jake only snickered and leaned over to kiss your temple. It wasn’t the first time his teammates had joked about your supposed ‘nauseating’ obsession with one another, but underneath, their love for the two of you together was more than supported. 

“We should probably go,” Phoenix said. They all nodded in agreement, hugging you and Jake before giving extra special goodbyes to your daughter. Then they were gone—so much like a herd of wild animals or a school of fish migrating in one giant mass. 

Jake blew out a breath. He wasn’t old, but it didn’t mean the man didn’t feel the exhaustion of the long evening. 

“Tired?” you asked, extending your arms for Eve. 

He handed the girl over to her mother and shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Good, because your night is not over yet.” 

Jake’s eyes followed the movement of your finger drawing a line down the row of his shirt buttons. He looked up at you. “Is that right?”

You winked, and as you turned on your heel to go put Eve to bed, Jake began to throw forgotten used cups and plates into the trash. They littered the area but he expected no less. His friends had a habit of bringing a tornado with them just to vanish when time to deal with the aftermath. 

“You don’t have to do that, baby,” you said, stepping back down the stairs. He felt your arms snake around his waist a moment later and squeeze. “Come with me instead.” 

Taking his hand, you led him to sit in a dining chair and settled yourself onto his lap. 

He knew his gaze was burning as it roamed over the features of your face. The only time it wasn’t was when he made sure to tamp down his desire in front of his daughter. But his baby girl was asleep now, and nothing stopped him from unveiling the entirety of what he felt for you. 

He was fully prepared to capture your lips in a kiss, but you stopped him when you said, “I got you a birthday present.”

Jake cared; he did. But you’d already given him so much and his neediness for you blocked out any ability to think of what could possibly be more important than you on top of him; he inside of you. 

He hummed lowly. “Does it happen to be lacy?” he asked. His fingers slid along the smooth skin of your thigh, pushing up the hem of your dress. “And under here?”

“Yes,” you grinned as you tilted your head down to brush your nose over his. “But I got you something else, too. Something better.”

You hopped up, slipping from his grasp before he could blink and disappearing around the corner into the hall. He instantly felt the gaping hole of your absence; the chill now coating his skin from the sudden loss of your warm body. He wasn’t a fan.

“Honey, I’m not sure there’s much better than you all dolled up in lace,” he called after you. 

You returned with your hands tucked behind your back, a sweet smile on your face as you once again took your seat atop his thighs. Jake rose a brow at your barely contained excitement when you whipped an envelope out and held it in front of his face. He leaned back a bit to get a good look, but the crisp, white folded paper was blank. 

“What is this?”

“You have to open it and read.”

He did as told and took it from your hands, lifting the unsealed flap and pulling out another folded sheet of paper. One of his arms snuck around your waist, holding your body flush against his again—tighter this time so you had no chance of escape—as he began to read aloud. 

“Petition for a change of name of a mi—” Jake’s voice caught on the syllable. His whole body, organs and all, briefly froze within him. A swallow strained his throat. “Minor,” he finally finished. He let the word settle on his tongue and when his brain regained functioning and fully processed the weight of its meaning, his eyes flicked over to yours. “Are you serious?”

Nodding with surety and cupping his cheek, you said, “I want to change her name. You just have to agree and we’ll sign some papers.”

The tears began to cloud his vision, fuzzing the words on the page as he read them again and again. “So, she’d…”

“She’d be Eve Seresin.”

Jake had imagined it before, dreamed about it. His sweet family—a small unit of Seresins that might one day grow into a decent sized bunch. You and he outnumbered by a group of little ones. But since your baby girl was such a surprise and you’d had Eve without him there—without him even in the picture at the time—her name was yours. Jake was fine with that. Of course, he was. It only made sense, and he wasn’t going to demand his daughter take his name just because you and he were officially together. But he couldn’t deny how the thought of his baby girl being a Seresin in name delightfully tightened his chest. He wouldn’t be too terribly upset by his woman sharing his name, either.

With your free hand, you brushed away the escaped salty droplet that slipped down his cheek. He met your eyes again.

“Honey, are you sure? Just because she doesn’t have my name, doesn’t mean—”

You shook your head. “I know, but your family name means something to you,” you said. “Besides, I imagine we’d be doing this sooner or later, and with Eve starting daycare in a couple of months it’s really the perfect time.”

You’re amazing, you know that? He thought about saying it every time he looked at you. Every time he saw you walk through the door, or take care of your daughter, or when you crawled into bed and cuddled up to him. And moments like this, when you expressed your devotion in such wonderful, unexpected ways. 

Jake put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you down for the kiss he’d been desperate to give you. It was a pattern of long kisses between short kisses, with some kisses making their way to cheeks and jawlines, and eventually, his lips found the sweet, delicate skin of your neck, sucking red marks into the flesh. He liked those marks—made sure to give them to you often—a new one for every old one that disappeared. He was especially adamant about it once you’d started back to work at the bar, remembering all too clearly the wide range of drunk men that went far out of their way to hit on you. But you were his now. You shared a daughter, you had a future, and he didn’t need other guys thinking they were going to get lucky with his lady. And though you didn’t give him the satisfaction, he knew you secretly loved it, too.

You moaned, your head naturally falling to the side to open access to more of your skin, and Jake gripped your neck a bit harder, holding you still as he took a gentle bite.

“I love you,” he whispered against your neck, licking over the fresh mark to soothe the tenderness before lifting his head. “And you gave me a wonderful gift.”

The glimmer in your eye—he lived for that glimmer. That little shine of pride. “Yea?”

“Yea.” He smiled softly. “Any chance you want to get your name changed, too?” 

That smile morphed into a pout, his bottom lip slightly puckering.

“Don’t puppy-dog-eyes me, Seresin.”

“But Honey, I can get a wedding together so fast.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, but your lips were struggling to stay in a straight line. They begged to curve upwards; to part and bare your white teeth in the perfect smile that had taken him to his damn knees the first time he saw you. 

Jake loved when he could get your smile to break through any emotion you were feeling or trying to portray. He was convinced that was one of the reasons you worked so well together. Crying, irritated, exhausted—didn’t matter what it was, he could find some way to get you to crack a smile. Now was no different. 

He knew you weren’t going to say yes; your relationship was officially only six months old and you’d always lived by a hard line of being with a man for a year before getting married. He knew this before you even slept together, back when you were friends exchanging innocent thoughts about potential futures. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy hinting at the subject every once in a while. 

“We’ll talk about it,” you said, moving one of his stray blond locks back into place. “But let's start with our daughter’s.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

He accepted your kiss—your promise that when he asked you that question for real, you would say yes. That was enough for him. When you were ready, he would get down on his knee and present the ring he’d had made a month ago, and you would start another chapter. But for now, everything he had was enough. More than enough. More than he could’ve dreamed of. 

“Would you like to have your other present now?” you asked. 

Your finger slowly traced the neckline of your dress, pulling down just a bit to reveal the lacy trim of your bra.

Jake took in a deep inhale through his nose and let the exhale fill his cheeks as it left his body. Just under that dress was a layer of thin, intricate material in a deep shade of red just barely covering some of his favorite parts of you. Swallowing hard, he replaced your finger with his and pulled the front of your dress lower to expose more of the garment. The lace barely contained the swell of your breasts, and he instantly hardened beneath you, cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. 

With his eyes still glued to your cleavage, he nodded. “I would absolutely love to have my other present now.”

[comicaurora]

Hello! I wanted to send my appreciation to you as a longtime fan of OSP and Auroura! I am an English Major with ADHD and your content always makes me inspired and my English Lit. Brain very happy with how good your storytelling is.

My question is what stories inspire you to write or make you want to sit down and tell a story? Your content makes me want to work on my projects, but my Adhd only last as long as I am not disturbed (i.e. need to eat or get up and move). You have always been upfront about your Adhd so my second question is how do you keep focused on your story and not burn out? (Talking as someone who is writing a novel as their thesis)

You have been a great inspiration over the years and someone I look up to as a storyteller! I wish you focus and luck! => 💝

Woo! Interesting questions!

When it comes to inspiration, I haven't really found a pattern for what works and what doesn't. The majority of the time, only new experiences/stories I haven't seen or read before work for me - rewatches and re-reads, while much more comfortable for my brain, don't tend to translate into creative inspiration for me - but it's not like a specific genre, or even a specific kind of relaxation, consistently work for me.

The way my brain works is a bit "no take only throw", as it were. I want to just sit down and make solid, steady progress in a predictable environment with a routine, but what I need is to try new things, go outside, take risks - because all those things give me new material to work with and refill the creative gas tank. When I'm stuck, I can't just hit the gas and punch through the block - I need to back up and try a new angle.

The good part of all this is that whatever engine that's running my subconscious is actually pretty good at signaling what it needs. The ADHD brain will be repelled by activities that aren't working for it and drawn to the things it needs at the time, whether that's creative energy or exercise or cleaning or doodling or listening to music or suddenly binge-watching a show that's not even all that great, and once it's got what it needs out of it - whatever that is - it'll be repelled again, either spitting out a sudden burst of creative energy or retreating to its den to chew on whatever it got out of the experience for a more slow-building reward. Little bursts of motivation and creativity pop up all throughout the day, and if you can pivot to the activity in question - or at least note down the idea you just had - you'll be able to harness that pretty nicely.

This "system" really only works for me because I have an extremely unstructured schedule and nobody relying on me to be consistent moment-to-moment. If I'm following the creative needs of my inscrutable Better Writer In The Back Of My Head, I can't be worrying about things like a consistent lunchtime or classes or a 9-to-5. All of my observations are caveat'd by the fact that I am ridiculously lucky to have the kind of freedom of movement and schedule that I can focus entirely on getting to know my brain better.

When it comes to staying focused on any one project, I've reluctantly concluded that the only way to win is not to play. Creativity needs time and diversity to recharge, and when you stall out in any given work session, it's usually because you're out of gas. This is why I maintain several projects in varying stages of "for my eyes only"-ness - a sketchbook, private writing projects, patreon doodles, music practice; even in the large-scale projects like the channel and the comic I have multiple angles of attack at any given time, where I can as needed switch between scripting, research, drawing frames, storyboarding more plot onto the end of the comic's current draft and lining/coloring/background-ing the finalized pages of the comic chapters earlier. This lets me maintain semi-steady progress on average, even if any one facet of the process is left by the wayside for potentially even weeks at a time.

If you're working on one writing project, one novel, I'd recommend giving yourself some time to do small-scale side-hobbies. It won't feel like they're helping, but they are.

I've started to think of inspiration rather similarly to the way I think about nutrition and digestion. It's a somewhat arcane process that, despite being a part of me, I don't exactly understand what's going on under the hood. If you eat only one thing, no matter what that one thing is, you're going to end up sick because you're lacking all sorts of niche micronutrients. If you parcel out a specific space of the only things you're allowed to eat, you might not get sick (as quickly) but you're likely going to become increasingly miserable as you think of the things you're not allowing yourself to try, or slowly build up highly specific forms of malnourishment by avoiding certain things entirely. But if you start listening to your body and try eating what it says it needs at any given time - oh, I could go for a rice bowl right now, oh I don't think I'm feeling something sugary today, man I could really go for some grapes - you're likely to hit a broadly good balance of health because you're hitting a broad range of things your body needs, even if you don't know all of their names or calorie counts, and your body is putting those resources to good use without your conscious input. Between my brain and my stomach, I only trust one of those to actually understand what a stomach needs to do its thing - and between me and my creative brain, most of the time it feels like I just work here.

I hope there was something helpful in all this!

[little-sleepy-owl]

ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

the reader is a sinner woman, who starts to act all motherly around the princess of Hell.

platonic, fluffy and wholesome.

originally I was going to publish this after Alastor x virgin!reader thingy. but holy hell, this weekend wasn't kind to me, and it seems this work week will not be kind either. so while it's still in progress, i offer you this little thing.

she's very quick to pick up on what's going on. she's is in so much doubts and mixed feelings it drives her crazy.

yeah, her mother wasn't around for seven years, but still… how can she betray her? how can she let another woman fill this role just like that?

but you're so good to her. she can't help, but feel safe and secure and happy, when you ask about her day, care for her and fuss over her in this way.

you support her on every step she takes and it sometimes genuinely makes her cry of joy.

oh, how she missed that feeling. she missed being a little girl in her mother’s arms.

sooner or later she'll definitely have a talk about this with Lucifer. a heavy one.

he's not happy with the whole situation at first, but still supports her feelings and urges to let her heart guide her.

she doesn't have to give up on her real mother to accept the found one, right?

she thinks of how your hands are so warm and welcoming. and how your eyes are so gentle when you look at her.

maybe... maybe it's okay to allow herself this happiness.

deeply nervous, yet somewhat exited, she'll come to you and ask if it's okay if she calls you “mom” sometimes.

and the warmth that spreads in her chest the moment your face lights up tells her that she made the right choice.

ooh, she wants to do so much stuff together now!! all things she was scared to allow herself before with you. go shopping, have little silly sleepovers in her and Vaggie’s room (you basically get two daughters for the price of one), draw each other, read books by roles, and go to Lu Lu Land of course! yaay, rides with hell's horses!!

she loves engaging in the silliest things. you gotta get used to this.

at one point Lucifer will come to have a talk with you. he sees how much genuinely happier and relaxed Charlie has become, and mostly now approves of your new role. still, he has to be sure you understand that he won't tolerate it if you hurt her.

“you're taking care of my little girl? Ỳ̴̲͈̻̒͊o̷̬̗̙̦͒́̇̂ͅŮ̸͍̺͝ ̵̣͎̼̖̝̞̋̒̃̾͋͘B̷͔̹́̐̉͌̚E̶̼̺͗͋͛̌̕t̵̛̛̜̮́͛͆Ṯ̵̡̢͉͕͉͇̋̈̋̏͝͠e̸͍͖̅͐̐̂́̊̊̌́ͅR̷̰͚̩̜̲͖͍̈́̓̃͗̐͆̀͐͘̕ͅ ̸͚̌̀͒̈̃̉̈́̃̋̕b̵̯̥͓̦̺͈̫̑É̷̩̤͕͈̂̂͒̕͠͝ 👹” basically.

don't worry, if there's ever some little dispute between you and Charlie, he won't just kill you for it on the spot. probably.

(the man will develop some soft feelings for you, so really. it's fine. he can't help, but be fond of someone who Charlie adores so much.)

Charlie will want a new portrait with you and her together to hang inside the Hotel.

just choose the place and pose, and a painter will be ready to start! you two can also drag Vaggie with you for this one.

maybe even Lucifer, too? or you can have a separate one with all four of you.

ah, what a nice family.

congratulations, now you're practically a new Queen of Hell, but by adoption of the Princess, instead of a marriage with the King.

although it only serves as a matter of teasing by other staff/patrons of the Hotel, still, kinda cool.

long live the Queen and her adorable loving daughter!

[thelunarsystemwrites]

AgereTale.

(An undertale AU all about agere, petre, etc!)

After monsters were sealed underground, many fell into despair. They all had to grow up and face the reality—They'd never be free again.

It was dull, a hopeless and bland land. Monster children were forced to give up their childhoods to help research a way out, and the adults were stressed out of their minds.

Everything was so tense, so serious...

Until a human fell.

The human was a teen, messy brown hair with fair skin and soft pink eyes. Rosey cheeks and stress visible on their face.

Chara.

Their son Asriel found them, and brought them home. The human... acted childish, after they awoke. At first it confused the royal family, but not necessarily... made them feel bad?

No, no... if anything, it awakened a new sort of emotion in them.

Care, they wanted to care for them.

The human's SOUL was a soft pink, the same colour as their eyes. It had a warm glow.

Wonderous. It had the trait of Wonder.

And from that day forward,monster kind was shown a new way to cope.

Age regression, or dreaming. Petre as well, along with their caregivers. There suddenly wasn't such a rush to grow up, and everyone seemed more than happy to exist while enjoying the joys of youth.

Years went on, and while progress on a way to break the barrier was slow. It was much easier to handle, now that they had some sort of escape.

Extra lore under cut!

In AgereTale, age regression/dreaming, pet regression/dreaming, caregiving—It's all very much normalized! Shops that carry baby supplies also keep adult/teen sized little/middle gear!

Another thing, Monsters have hearts on their face, each meaning a different role!

Pink means the monster is an Age regressor!

Blue means the monster is a Pet regressor!

Purple means the monster is an Age dreamer!

Green means the monster is a pet Dreamer!

And yellow means they're a caregiver/babysitter!

Monsters can have all five at once, or a mixture of various colours!

The hearts come and go as suited. So a monster that recently became a caregiver will have a yellow heart appear on their face!

Here's an example of having all five hearts, like Papyrus!

Also, the fallen human Frisk is a teen as well! And they also have the pink trait, Wonder!

@zombiestar1934 figured you'd wanna see the Paps drawing!

And yes, this is a Canon part of the UTMV Agereverse! ^^

[tickle-bugs]

Stupid in Love

Summary: Nick Miller is completely, 100% normal about all things Jessica Day. Including her smile, her laugh--ah, fuck. He's doomed. NickJess ft. pining!Nick

Anon: I just saw you write for New Girl! I am in my yearly rewatch of the show so I am so happy you write for it! Maybe the loft gang and CeCe can be playing a game of true American and somehow during the game it comes out that Jess is incredibly ticklish. Everyone is too focused on the game to use it to their advantage at the moment, but nick remembers and maybe later when him and Jess are together, he decided to test his new found knowledge and see just how ticklish Jess really is.

While this isn’t set during a particular episode, I was thinking HEAVILY about s2 ep15, Cooler. One of the greatest episodes of the whole show, hands down. I just wanted to write pining Nick tbh.

True American is the best goddamn game ever invented. It defines a man at his core level. Everything that’s ever mattered to Nick is on the line in this game. His dignity, his pride, his dignity…

He honestly can’t remember what they’re playing for. Something involving the sink. Or a drink? Unclear, but irrelevant. Nick is the king of an aluminum can palace and his citizens will thrive under his leadership. This is his birthright. 

They’re playing True American: Catan Edition tonight. Each player defends their own small nations and attempts to crush the others, throwing their leaders to the molten lava below. It’s the smartest thing Winston’s ever come up with. 

“Duel for my amusement,” Nick slurs, waving his paper towel roll scepter around. The cardboard crown on his head slips down over his eyes. Cece blows a raspberry at him. He lobs a balled-up piece of paper at her. 

Jess plays a fanfare into her backup kazoo—Schmidt threw away her main one—and draws angry eyebrows onto the smiley face of her country’s flag. A declaration of war. 

Sober Jess is all for political progress and human rights, but Drunk Jess? Maniacal, power-hungry, and so very hot.

Focus, Miller. 

“Two, four, six, eight! Who do we appreciate?” Jess climbs onto one of the kitchen chairs and puts a colander on her head. A warrior’s helm. Nick smiles at her. 

In their corner of the living room, Winston and Schmidt whisper furiously. At some point in the last hour, Winston had ascended to Grand Advisor of Schmidt’s Creek. Schmidt had lost the ability to speak after can number two, when Cece had flirted him out of all of his natural resources and a third of his land. Nick had been trying to think of how to poach Winston to Nicklandia, but he couldn’t think of a plan that didn’t involve saying ‘please’ until he passed out. 

“Schmidt’s Creek will not challenge today!” Winston crushes his beer can against Schmidt’s forehead. Schmidt doesn’t even blink.

“Ruth Gader Binsburg! I challenge your weird little colony, Jess,” Cece shouts, messily hopping onto the chair next to Jess. They start some combination of swatting at each other and clutching on for dear life. Schmidt looks up at Cece like a drunk, lovesick puppy. Nick rolls his eyes.

Thank god he doesn’t look like that.

Does he look like that?

Shit. He’s missing the game. 

“Yeah? Guess what—” Jess knocks her knuckles against the colander helmet, winces, and then points at Cece— “I’m the Queen of England, bitch.” 

Nick’s not sure what’s elapsed in the apparently three years since he was last paying attention, but he knows by the way that Cece gasps that someone’s dying on the living room and/or kitchen floor tonight. Jess cackles and puts her hands on her hips. They start yelling, but even if they’re saying real human words, which he’s pretty sure they’re not, he’s not processing it. Jess looks so stupid in that little holey hat—someone should invent a word for that thing—and she’s adorable. 

Nick leans his cheek on his palm and smiles wider. Does she know her nose scrunches when she’s annoyed? 

Nick leans a little too far and loses his balance. Half of his aluminum fortress tumbles down. When he looks back up, Jess and Cece haven’t budged. Or blinked. Cece squints at Jess and it’s clear the conversation has ascended to psychic levels that even Drunk Nick can’t access. He tries though. Mostly gives himself a headache. 

Something in their eye conversation must shift, because Cece gets this look on her face. Like pure, concentrated mischief. The aura off of her is so powerful that everyone scoots back a bit. Cece starts stretching and cracking her knuckles. 

“Waitwaitwait, Cece, you don’t have to do this.” Jess holds her hands up in immediate surrender, but she’s smiling hard enough to brighten the room. A little nervous giggle picks up in the back of her throat and she starts to turn pinker than the boxed rosé that forms her section of the living room. 

“Oh, but I do. Surrender. Now.” Cece points to the floor. Which is lava. Cruel way to go. 

Jess looks at her best friend with the kind of profound resignation only possible when piss drunk. She sighs deeply, staring at the floor…

And then launches herself at Cece with a war cry. 

Cece doesn’t even flinch. She catches Jess, smirks, and starts tickling her sides with vicious precision. Jess lets out a giggly shriek and crumples, sinking right down into the lava. The colander tumbles off of her head and rolls into Nick’s fortress. 

The sound worms itself into Nick’s brain, taking up residence alongside all the other little Jess things that drive him nuts. It distracts him hard enough that by the time Winston arises as Supreme Leader of the Loft, Nick can’t even trace the path of his defeat. 

………

Even when sobriety beats them over the head the next morning, Nick can remember nothing but the sweet music of Jess’s laugh. And the shape of her smile. 

God he’s hopeless. 

The slow march of the week brings some relief in the sense that a) Nick remembers that he really doesn’t do the whole ‘feelings’ thing and b) alcohol makes anyone look like an angel walking the earth. He is a grown ass man and Jess is an annoying little craft goblin. He can be normal. She’s normal. No need to get worked up over her.

“You look like Mr. Rogers’s grumpy cousin.” Jess snickers, fiddling with the sleeve of Nick’s hideous cardigan. 

“You done? You finished?” He pulls his sleeve away from her. It’s really Schmidt’s, which she very well knows. Nick’s only wearing it because Schmidt’s being weird about Cece again, and the only way to survive that is to bend to his will. Schmidt’s already dehydrated himself twice this week trying to show off his muscles more, Nick doesn’t want to add to that by making the guy cry. He’d never stop.

Jess, however, doesn’t seem to understand the magnitude of this manly sacrifice. She’s too busy laughing at him. 

“Mmmm, no, I don’t think I am. You look like a Muppet.” She pinches his cheek. He rolls his eyes. 

“Well, that’s just a compliment.” 

“No, no. You look like the bird. The bird with the eyebrows—“ Jess pauses as her giggles overtake her— “You look like Sam the Eagle.” 

Jess folds over into his shoulder with laughter and smacks his chest. The warmth of it almost distracts him from the comment. 

Almost. 

“Yeah, laugh it up, Jess. C’mere—“ He drags her across the couch by the ankle and latches onto her sides. She makes that adorable sound again, that giggly shriek, and flails like a worm on a hook. She tries to push his face away. He swats her hands aside like it’s nothing. When reaches for him again—futile, really—he snatches her wrists in one hand, pins them down, and tickles with the other. 

Her whole face burns. He chooses to ignore it for both of their sakes. 

“Let me know when you’re ready to apologize. Take your time.” He does a little pinchy thing with his fingers and Jess lets out a high-pitched mess of syllables. She throws her head back and cackles, arching up into him. 

“Hmm, yeah, see none of that sounded like ‘You’re the best, Nick Miller’. Try again.” He pokes all over her torso, fast and wild. He lets go of her and adds his other hand into the mix. Every time she tries to talk, he speeds up, making her laugh at his silliness along with his hands. She kicks her legs and lets out a little giggly growl. Nick smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. 

“Nick!” She grabs his wrists but doesn’t stop him. His stomach flips. She’s so overwhelming. 

“That’s my name.” He skitters his fingers up her ribs to distract himself from the lump in his throat. 

Jess flails and nearly takes them both off the couch and into the next life. Nick catches himself before he collapses on top of her, but it puts their faces mere inches apart. The space of a breath. He can see the faint freckles across her nose, all brought forth by the pink flush down her cheeks and neck. As she catches her breath, lips parted, her laughter simmers low in her chest. He brushes her hair out of her face. His hand lingers on her cheek. 

Her eyes crinkle when she smiles. Does she know that? 

Nick gets the deep, burning urge to kiss her senseless. To download all these embarrassing, vulnerable thoughts from his brain to hers. To show her how deep this goes. To drink of her like the wine at restaurants he can never afford. 

No. Not like this. She deserves better than this.

Than him.

He starts to pull away, awkwardly clearing his throat. Jess surges forward and Nick’s stupid little monkey brain gleefully claps its hands together, shouting this is it! It’s happening! Nick’s brain activity screeches to a halt. He stares at her mouth and freezes. 

Jess flips them over and starts tickling his ears like some kind of insane supervillain. 

“No! Jessica!” He turtles and attempts to fling himself to safety. All he accomplishes is hanging off the back of the couch, leaving his knees in reach of Jess’s evil nails—

One day he will be smart about Jessica Day, but he concedes that it won’t be today. But as she destroys him and Schmidt’s stupid, hopefully inexpensive cardigan, he secretly hopes the day never arrives. 

[lanadelray-gurl]

''My heart is, and always will be, yours''

Singer!Austin butler x Bandmate!fem!reader

Warning: Angst,fighting,cussing,hidden love,fluff,soft smut,p n v,fingering,biting,crying,falling in love(really a friends/enemies to lovers kind of thing)

Summary: you and Austin had started a band with a few other friends back in high school.You played bass and he play guitar,you both sang together. But what happens after you start to fall in love with him but his new found fame has gotten to his head?

You had always been interested in music,you grew up with it. Your mom played the piano and your father played the bass which he would go on to pass down to you,you didn’t have a club for music in your high school so you decided to make a post on your facebook(gosh you feel old looking back on this) you made a small post to your 20 friends on Facebook. It read;’Do you like music? Do you like making music? Can you play an instrument but simply can’t find anywhere to play? Well please send me a message if you’re interested in a music club after school at my house!’ You sounded desperate,,which was the case. See you always wanted to start a band,your dad did when he was your age and you decided fuck it why not! That’s when you met him. Him being Austin,at first you thought he was cute,he had nicely styled dirty blond hair,pretty blue eyes and he was tall. And did I mention he could sing AND play guitar. Yeah..he was perfect.

When you first talked or Austin he had messaged you on Facebook,you didn’t even know he went to your school! You barely paid attention to your surroundings in school,either writing stupid songs or drawing little things in your notebook. He told you he was very interested in your ‘club’ and even sent a video of him playing the acoustic guitar and singing an Elvis song! It was a bit old school but you sighed it,he told you he could pretty much play any song you wanted him to. He also added that he had a few friends who also went to your school who’d be interested. One being named Adam;he was your age and played drums. Then you had Johnny; he was a few years older and played rhythm guitar. It was perfect what could go wrong!

Apparently everything could go wrong—

Well not necessarily for the whole group,it seemed to just be you. It’s been a few years now,you and Austin had been posting your music (which was mostly covers of really popular songs) to any platform out there! And it gained a lot of traction,you both really enjoyed it,as time passed you guys went a recording studio,produced your own music,posted it and the next week you were approved by a big record label. You all of course said yes,you could see the vision,your name in lights. Well your bands name;Ecstasy (can you tell I got lazy) Your bands music was mostly sensual and meaningful. That’s how you saw it,but it started to look like all of the bands hard work was just a money grab for the rest of your band.

As the years went on you and Austin grew close,you were completely smitten by him. You tried to make all of his ideas for songs come true..even if they sucked. But he didn’t see you like that,you wrote the songs,play the bass and they get money. Which hurt you once you realized. As things progressed you noticed how at every show and on every tour he was with a girl or at least flirting with the girls in the crowd. If hurt you but you couldn’t say it,you had even thought about leaving the band or even going solo but you didn’t want to be selfish. You stayed quiet,Adam and Johnny took notice to your change in personality. Your once bubbly and excited personality had turned kind of dark and closed off,no one could tell what was wrong because you just kept to yourself if you weren’t making music. Sometimes you’d be pretty happy during rehearsals or before recording but somehow Austin brought your mood down.

He’d constantly bring a girl or two to everything the band went to. Didn’t matter if it was private or if it was just a casual hang out. It was to say the least embarrassing and you let it go on for years now. Why couldn’t you stick up for yourself?! God..it was pathetic. You just ignored it at this point,you were emotionally numbed at least that’s what you thought until your most recent show.

Your band was preparing for a show,you kept quiet the whole time. Austin noticed this,even thought it’s been going on for so long he finally noticed your change in personality. He grabbed your shoulder gently,you were grabbing your bass from its case you looked back at him and gently shrugged him off of your shoulder.

“Hey man what’s going on with you..?” He spoke with a bit of force. You looked back at him,you were wearing an amazing outfit,you were wearing a tight black dress with fishnets and combat boots and he took notice..when did you become so pretty? You had beautiful makeup but he could see your eye bags and just how tired you looked. You spoke,your once soft and sweet voice was now slightly rough and scratchy “nothing..just let’s get ready..” you walked towards the stage everything was ready for the show to start,Austin followed close behind you. Tonight was gonna be stressful..

You were nearing the end of the show,you played your heart out,so did the whole band. It was time for your biggest song. This is where you and Austin got really close and just made it seem like everything was sweet and beautiful but it was farm from it. As the song played you felt tears stinging your eyes.(listen to the song above now!!)

“Without shame..”

His voice was smooth and beautiful god why were you so in love with him? It hurt your very soul.

“Two outfits then to my name..”

It was almost time for you to join in,you didn’t know if you could do it. This song was about love but you knew he didn’t love you..and that was so painful.

“You’d end up in one when you’d stay..”

You felt your heart start to race,you walked towards the microphone,standing right next to him. His hands stringing the guitar skillfully. That both turned you on and made you sick. You wanted those hands around you but every other girl got what you wanted.

“We had no where to go..and every desire for going there..”

You began to sing with him,he glanced at you. Your voice was beautiful to him,and once the fans heard you sing they went crazy they loved your voice and something inside him suddenly felt connected to you. His heart began to race.

“I heard once..it’s the comforts that makes us feel numb” You both continued to sing together for the next few moments,your voice made him shiver and his made you wince from the pain from the heart break. “We’d go out with no way to get home..and we’d sleep on somebody’s floor..wake up feeling like a millionaire..” you both continued to sing your heart out,you both looked up and stared into each others eyes. You felt emotions take over you. Austin and the rest of the band could tell you were bubbling with emotion. About to burst whenever you were tipped over the edge and the intensity of the eye contact was what tipped you over. “Wish I’d known it was just our turn..(we just got by)..Being blamed for a world we had no power in..(but we tried)..” Johnny and Adam joined in for a few parts now,giving the song an angelic sound,but your voice seemed to over power them.

“You and I had nothing to show..(we didn’t know)..But the best of the world in the palm of our hands..(anything,darling)” You felt the tears fall down your cheeks,you were now staring to the floor trying not to let your emotions get the best do you,Austin noticed this. He felt a stinging in his heart why did he suddenly care so much..? “And,darling, I haven’t felt it since then..I don’t how the feeling ended..” Your voices cracked slightly,the crowd roared happily but your band knew it was a sign of you losing yourself to you emotions,Austin almost lost his breath. You had raw talent and hearing you putting your real emotions into this certain song made his chest almost cave.

“But I know being reckless and young..Is not how the damage gets done..” You continued to cry as you sang,it was heartbreaking to watch but the fans didn’t care they just wanted to hear you sing with Austin. But now that he kept thinking about you and your new persona he felt a connection of heartbreak with you but why? He maybe thought it was just heartbreaking to see you cry because he was perfectly fine..or at least that’s what he thought. “One time we would want for nothing..(one time we had it all,love).. We knew what our love was worth (when we had nothing)..” you looked up to the sky for a few seconds,your eyes locked with Austin’s once more. He was caught off guard for a moment,you noticed this and felt a since of pride but this.

“..Now we're always missing something (I miss when).. I miss when we did not need much..” Austin backed away from the microphone,he continued to play the guitar. You grabbed the microphone and stared to sing your solo part,you took a deep breath and closed your eyes tight as you put your heart into this part.

“Oh,if the car ran,the car was enough..If the sun shone on us,it’s a plus..and the tank was always filled up! Only enough for our getting there..” Tears streamed down your face as you kept your eyes closed tightly. You opened your eyes finally and looked around and watched as Austin came back to the microphone to end the song and then the show.

Finally once you finished that song you all waved to the fans and you rushed off stage,wiping your tears and sobbing as you put your bass back in its case. You wiped off your messed up makeup,Austin noticed this as he walked past you to get ready to leave on the bus back to the hotel you were all staying. You were all on the bus now,you sat far away from everyone,in the very front you were on your phone mindlessly scrolling socials. You felt eyes on you and you knew it was Austin,that made your heart squeeze itself.

Once you all arrived at the hotel all of you got onto the elevator,Austin was oddly close standing so close your shoulders pressed together. Once the elevator dinged you all went separate ways to your rooms..or at least that’s what you thought. You heard footsteps behind you,you walked towards your room and once you reached for the door you quickly turned around and saw Austin. “Hey..” he spoke breathlessly. You looked annoyed but mostly emotional he couldn’t read your expression. “Can I come in?..” you looked shocked by this,you quickly shook your head and tried to rush into your room “no Austin— No not just no,just fuck no—“ you scoffed and walked into your room and tried to slam the door but he stopped it and barged into your room. You turned to him and had tears streaming down your already redden and wet cheeks. “We’re talking..I don’t care how you feel (Y/N)..” he spoke with a bit of anger. Your eyes widened before you gave your speech,well that’s how would Austin described it.

“No! You don’t get to fucking decide when we talk..you don’t get to tell me how to feel! Now after what you did to me! Did you not see it?! Did you not see how I looked at you and hear how I spoke?! The way I made everything happen just for you?! I even put your shitty song lyrics in our song!” You screamed and continued to let the tears flow,using your hands to speak and put more emotions into it.

“Are you kidding me?! I’m trying to figure out why you’re so emotional and weird all of a sudden! I’m being nice to you! We’ve been friends for years and im showing I care. What are you going on ab—!” You scoffed and threw your hands up in the air before turning away just to look back at him and pointing a finger into his chest.

“I. Loved. You..ever since I met you I loved you. My heart was set on you and your stupid blue eyes and your perfect lips and perfect body..a-and and—“ you put your hands up into your hair and gripped onto it “you..you were just you and I fell in love with yo—“ you let your hands fall to your sides but before you could speak he grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you passionately but with a bit of aggression. It caught you off guard but you kissed back,you held onto his wrist gently as you both walked. You were walking backwards and he basically guided you to your room. He picked you up by the back of your thighs,her laid you down on the bed and continued to passionate kiss.

He pulled away from the kiss and lifted up your dress,pulling it off your beautiful body. Happy to see you were wearing no bra but a pretty pair of black lace panties,you crossed your arms over your breast and shuddered. You turned away from him and whimpered softly,Austin untied your combat boots and pulled them off your tired feet,he pulled off your socks and kiss up from your calves to your thighs. He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. He fell to his knees and kissed your inner thigh from the right to the left side,gently biting down on your soft skins. You felt your pussy clinch around nothing as the wetness from you core drenched the cotton.

You moaned gently and covered your mouth,you felt him hook his fingers underneath the band of your panties. He tugged them off,you lifted your hips up and bit your bottom lip a little too hard, you pierced the skin making you flinch. He looked up and smirked up at you knowing he made you crazy,he put your thighs over his shoulders. He started licking up your arousal,it was sweet. The best things he’s ever tasted,he sucked your clit and watched as you squirmed and pressed your hips down onto his face the best you could. He pulled away and rubbed two fingers against your wet core,getting them wet with your slick. With the two wet digits he fingered your drenched and aching pussy slowly,pumping his fingers gently while curling them up to hit that spongey spot that made you arch your back.

He went back to licking and sucking your clit,he took you for granted and he was gonna make up for it. Your beautiful body and your sweet pussy was everything he was missing,all the girls meant nothing to him anymore. He realized he needed you,only you that all he could think of now. You started to feel a coil in your stomach tangle and begin to unwind and get close to snapping. Knowing you were about to cum you tried to push him away but he wouldn’t let you,he pressed your hips down and licked and sucked faster but still at a gentle pace. His fingers working and stretching you out. You rocked you hips wildly “Austin,Austin fuckfuckfuckfuck!—“ you moaned loudly and finally came into his fingers,he moaned against your clit. You gasped loudly and whimpered,he finally pulled away and pulled his fingers out slowly.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good honey..I’ve neglected you for so long baby..I’m so so sorry..”

He spoke softly,he stood up and took off his belt and unbuttoned and then unzipped his jeans before pulling them down along with his boxers. His cocked bounced up,your eyes widened. You’ve seen the outline of it before,you knew he was blessed but seeing it hard and up close made you shake. It was long and tick,leaking with pre-cum,you did this to him and you couldn’t believe it. You felt years well up in your eyes and he noticed,he gently kissed near your eyes and over your eyelids. “Don’t cry honey..I’m sorry baby I really am..” you finally cried tears of pure joy and laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck “nonono don’t worry I-I’m just so happy like..I’ve dreamed about this..” you hiccuped as you felt him pick you up and lay on down long ways in the bed with him towering over you.

He sat up while sitting in his knees,he grabbed your calves and put them on other sides of his hips. He pulled you closer,the shaft of his cock laid against your sensitive clit. It made you moan softly,he stared into your eyes as he slowly rubbed your stomach and smiled happily. It was a genuine smile,something you’ve always wanted to see for so long. “I should’ve found out sooner baby..I could’ve made you feel so so so good sooner..” he whispered,he held the shaft of his cock and slowly pressed the tip into your tight cunt. “Oh fuck aus—“ you let your eyes roll back as you felt him press every inch into you,he filled you up so nicely. His eyes were glued onto his cock sliding into you,his mouth hung open.

He had finally bottomed out,he was pressed into you so nicely you felt him grazing over your cervix. This made you cry out,he leaned down holding your little body close to him,you once again wrapped your arms around him and scratched his tan skin,leaving angry red marks. You heard him groan loudly into your ear,her was fully pressed against your cervix now in this position you couldn’t handle this for long. He slowly pulled out making you whimper before he slowly pushed all the way back it. You let out a loud gasp and you let out a choked moan,he raised up slightly and stared down at you and he observed your fucked our face.

“God your pussy is sucking me I-in I could cum right now..fill you up nice and g-good..”

He whispered softly and started to thrust,it was slow but it had a bit of speed and power but not too much. He didn’t want to hurt you not ever or ever again,he knew he hurt you so many times before and he didn’t want to hurt you in such an intimate moment. You hid your face in his shoulder and bit down leaving a dark red and purple mark,he moaned loudly. Now his thrust gained more speed and strength,he thrusted into you like his life depended on it.

He growled softly into your ear,he kissed up your neck,he left dark marks along your soft neck and up your jaw. He groaned loudly now. You knew he was holding back you wanted all of him. “P-please Aus..please fuck me..pleasepleaseplease..I need your cock deep inside of me..” You moaned into his ear and he gladly took your invitation. He thrusted into you wildly and roughly,she growled and grunted loudly and he looked wild. You stared as his face contorted and twisted as he thrusted in and out of your sopping cunt,you cried out and rocked you hips against him as you felt you second orgasm approaching,you clinched and sloppily grind against his thrust you couldn’t take much more.

“Is my baby gonna cum?Hah..—Hm? My pretty girl wanna cum on my cock?Fuck..—Come on a baby be a good girl..let me feel you cum all over my cock..god you’re so fucking right..” He grunted loudly and stared into your tired half lidded eyes. You nodded you head quickly as you felt your climax getting closer. With one last strong thrust you came all over his cock,squeezing down on his cock making him shutter and he gave you one more thrust before feeling up your warm cunt with his hot cum. He groaned and slammed into you. He stared up at the ceiling before dropping his head and staring down at you.

He slowly pulled out,watching as his cum spilled out of you. He smirked and let out a breathless laugh before plopping next to you and pulling you close. He wrapped the blanket over the both of you,as you both cuddled he lazily dragged his hand down your stomach and to your puffy and sore pussy,he gently pressed his fingers into you. Gently pumping into you,trying to keep his cum inside of you. You whimpered softly and snuggled your face into his shoulder.

“I love you..” he whispered down into your ear as he closed his eyes and spoke sleepily,he was getting close to passing out.

“I love you too..I always will.” You spoke softly and closed your eyes. You both finally fell asleep,you slept in until the late afternoon that next day and it was the best sleep of your life.

Hii! I hope you guys enjoy this little one shot,I finished this before my other stories so I’m posting it! More coming soon..



[lovelynim]

Gains

Uta no Prince-sama - Ittoki Otoya x Tokiya Ichinose

A/N: FELIZ ANIVERSÁRIO @ppystkposts!!! EH NOIS QUEBRADA, TMJ VOA MLK TE ADORO E É ISSO AI!!!!!

Okay, jokes aside, I hope this is not too f*cked up because I didn't have a lot of time to research about them and I wanted to be really subtle about it so... yeah. I tried my best, but you deserve more than my best, but I can only offer you my best and-

*ahem*

Anyway, happy bday!!!

also i kind of inspired of that drawing off "lee mood otoya" you did cuz it was really cute, ehe

Summary: Otoya decides to show off his "gains" after months of workout.

Word count: 1078 words.

After months- no, probably a year already, it finally paid off! All those days struggling with lame diets and privating himself from eating tasty food… it was all worth it! 

Beaming with contempt, Otoya continued to admire his own brand new physique in the mirror, flexing his arms and turning around to check the defined muscles tensing up. He looked so cool! And even hot! Now, with his ultimate goal achieved, what should Otoya do?

Show off, of course.

Reaching for the plain white shirt that was laying around next to him, Otoya quickly got dressed up again and was ready to show off his brand new look. He couldn’t wait to brag about how awesome he would be in summer photoshoots or anywhere where he could show off his abs. So exciting!

Now, who should be the first one to know? Hmm…

Ah, of course. Who else better than the one next door?

“To-ki-yaaaa!! ~” Otoya sang, knocking on the door multiple times before walking inside the other’s room anyway. They were already beyond the level of intimacy where you’d need to wait for consent before walking in (at least, in Otoya’s view of their relationship). “Are you busy?”

No, he was - in fact - very busy. It’s been hours since he was drafting and trying out new lyrics, searching inside his head for anything that sounded nice in an eventual new performance. By now, even his legs hurt a little from sitting so long, waiting for the gears inside his head to turn. 

Still, just because he wasn’t making any progress, it didn’t mean he had time to waste with other things, like paying attention to whatever Otoya came up with this time. “Yes, so d-”

“Oh, oh, I promise it will be very quick!” Otoya spoke hurriedly, pushing the door close behind him - just to make sure he wouldn’t be shoved away again. “I just need to show you something. It’s really, really important!”

Tokiya rolled his eyes, already doubting anything from him would, actually, matter. Memories of previous “important things” scrolled through his mind and, so far, he couldn’t find one that was, actually, important. Still, if that would allow him to get back to work and satisfy Otoya’s need for attention…

“Sigh, fine,” Tokiya sighed, leaning back in his chair and spinning it to face Otoya. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, but his eyes were fixed on the redhead, which was enough for the latter. “What is it?”

“Heheh…” Otoya grinned in a way that made Tokiya shiver in his place. He made sure to stand right in front of him, tugging at his shorts with one hand and at his shirt with the other. Tokiya widened his eyes, already thinking about and expecting the worst.

“Wait, Otoya, don-”

“Check this out!” Otoya cheered while Tokiya let out a squeal and covered his eyes, hesitating to peek at… Otoya’s stomach? “Huh? Huh? What do you think?” The redhead added, arching his back a little more to highlight… well…

“What am I supposed to see?” Tokiya sighed, already composing himself again after the initial scare of being flashed with Otoya’s stomach. “Are your stomach hurting?” He said nonchalantly, looking up from his midriff to his face.

That was clearly not the answer Otoya was expecting from him. The beaming smile quickly faded into a pout with furrowed brows and eyes, totally offended, staring at him. “W-what?!”

Tokiya sighed. “Did you burst into my room just to show me your- ahm, stomach?”

“No! My gains! Look at my gains!” Otoya whined, how could Tokiya not see his totally-awesome-and-hot six pack?!

Tokiya’s eyes moved back down and stared some more into Otoya’s body and, after focusing a bit more, he could see the faint outline of some muscles. Was that what he was bragging about? He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and peek back at Otoya’s reaction, his eyes almost meeting the latter’s expectant gaze. 

“Ohh,” he gasped, “I think I see now. Can I feel it?” He asked and cocked his head to the side, watching quietly as Otoya nodded to his request.

Tokiya’s hand slowly reached out, dragging his fingers - one at each direction - as he pressed his palm flat against the spot just above Otoya’s navel. The muscles were a little more perceptible through to the touch, he thought, caressing one of the nods of his pack.

“P-pfft…”

To think about it, Otoya was working out a lot more lately, and even stopped eating th- Tsk. “Stop moving,” he groaned, looking back up.

“T-then don’t tickle me!” The redhead complained, puffing out his cheeks.

“I’m not tickling you.”

“You totally are,” Otoya continued, tightening the grip around the hem of his shirt and biting his inner lip as Tokiya resumed his inspection. There was no way he wasn’t doing it on purpose, he thought, sucking in his stomach as Tokiya’s digits brushed around his stomach.

“T-Tokiyahaha,” he giggled, stomping his feet like a kid throwing out a tantrum, “don’t be so gehehentle!”

It was almost as if asking for the exact opposite. Resting his hand in other hand, Tokiya continued to wiggle his fingers up and down, “feeling” Otoya’s so-called gains as he did so. If it tickled so bad, why was he holding out his stomach like? Did he really want to show off his stomach so bad?

“It’s not my fault you’re so ticklish,” he mocked, pinching Otoya’s left side and making him jump out of reflex, a high-pitched yelp leaving his smiling lips. “See?”

“S-stohohop it! You’ve seen enahAHAH!!” He laughed out loudly, letting go of his clothes in a desperate attempt to stop the two hands that had suddenly latched onto his exposed body. “T-TOKIYAHAH!!”

“What? There is no way you grew only that much muscle after working out for so long,” he continued, dragging Otoya closer to his chair at the same time as he dug into his sides, letting his fingers vibrate against the spot below his ribs.

“N-NOhohoh! L-LehEHEHET GOHOH!!” Otoya protested, nearly falling to the ground as his knees gave in to the ticklish feeling. “T-thehehere is no gahAHAhains theheHEHere!”

“Are you sure? Because I think I feel something right… here,” Tokiya grinned, sparking a new chain of reactions as his hands crept to another spot. Well, surely Otoya didn’t expect to come to him and not go through a whole inspection, right? This was definitely what he came for.