#yeah i got 3 minutes of free time and I had to draw SOMETHING

[raptorwithamarker]

"You got a 9 to 5, so I'll take the night shift,"

the sketch in case you wanted to see the lines haha

[robinsno1lesbian]

Hey i was wondering if you could do a dom! robin fic with like an inexperienced reader? and its really like sweet and its just robin praising r or something like that? thank you lovely!

warnings: SMUT!! (mdni), first time, inexperienced reader, vaginal fingering & oral sex (r receiving), established relationship, praise kink, pet names (baby, pretty girl, love). (0.8k)

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon! another person in my inbox requested “anything with a sub reader” so this might work for you too? <3

when you first told her you were a virgin and completely inexperienced when it came to that department, she’d been endlessly patient with you.

robin had assure you that, however long it would take you to feel ready, was okay. that there was absolutely no pressure on her end.

no matter how appreciative you’d been of her patience and assurance, you did feel ready. you had been the minute she’d first kissed you, her chapped lips moving against yours slowly. of course, you’d been nervous as well, but ready.

it had been perfect from the very beginning and you were excited and ready to share this with robin as well.

now she’s between your legs and you’re pretty sure there’s nothing better in this world than sex with robin buckley.

her rings have been taken off, put into a tray on her bedside table, and her bare, calloused fingertips are rubbing against your g-spot in a way that has you seeing starts.

ever since she first undressed you, robin hasn’t stopped talking to you. she’s praised you and your body when she ran her all fingers over your newly exposed skin, has encouraged you to moan when you tried to stifle them, has told you exactly what she’d do before she started touching you.

and now you’re here.

“holy shit y/n” robin says, her voice husky and low. “look at you. you’re so pretty. you’re so fucking pretty, my god”

she’s on her belly, laying between your legs and watching as she pumps her digits in and out of you.

“hm, look at you” she brings her free hand up to gently spread open your labia and take in the sight of your cunt as she’s fucking you open.

“look at you, love” robin says again, mesmerized. she can hardly pull her gaze away from your center. “all nice and wet for me, yeah?”

all you can really do is nod, her fingers drawing wet noises from between your thighs.

“shh it’s okay” robin assures. she’s biting her lip absentmindedly, watching herself disappear in your heat. “you don’t have to say anything at all baby. i got you”

you spread your legs a little wider for her, your body sucking her in deeper, hungry for the delicious stretch of her fingers. you gasp at one particular good thrust against your walls, her fingers curling against a spot that causes your eyes to roll back in your head.

“that’s good?” robin rasps.

“mhm” you whine, your head falling back against the pillows.

“i know pretty girl. that’s it. that’s such a good girl”

her praise goes straight to your cunt, sending another wave of pleasure that makes you flutter around her. robin’s free hand is still holding you open, but yours finds hers to link them together. you need to feel her, need to know that she’s there holding you.

“you take my fingers so well” she praises, accompanied by a gentle squeeze on every word. “so so well you hear me?”

you nod once again, her words sending you spiraling and gushing more slick over her fingertips.

“gonna put my mouth on you now, okay?”

“yeah” you murmur, eyes turning to the small glow in the dark stars robin has plastered across her ceiling, bracing yourself for the sensation of her lips and tongue on your pussy.

yet nothing could’ve prepared you for the actual feeling when she takes your clit into her mouth and sucks.

your hands curl up in her hair, perhaps a little too tightly, but robin hums happily.

her words morph into muffled babbles against you, but it hardly matters. she’s sucking on your sensitive bud, her eyes rolling back in her head at the taste of you.

“robin” you gasp, your back arching off of the soft cotton sheets. your stomach is tightening up, as if there’s a strange, unreleased tension building. one that’s just waiting to snap. “robin i-“

“are you close baby?” she asks, her fingers thrusting into you at a faster pace. it seems harder for her to pull out entirely, as though your walls are tightening around her, pulling her into you.

“i- i think so?” you manage.

“it’s okay” robin leans back enough to catch your eyes, her fingers making up for the momentary loss of her mouth on you. “it’s okay, y/n. just let go”

and with that, her mouth is back on you, sucking your clit past her lips harshly. it’s so much. it’s not nearly enough. it’s perfect, sends you over the edge in mere seconds.

with a cry of her name, you arch off of the mattress and cum against the feeling of her mouth and hand. you can still hear her voice, though it feels distant with the pleasure rushing through your veins.

“that’s it” robin praises, holding your hand through your orgasm. “oh my god that’s it y/n. fuck you’re so pretty. so gorgeous like this”

she talks you through the entire height, her voice cracking as she watches you fall apart and come undone.

[glassrowboat]

🎲 muehehehe get diced >:3 🪐

13. Kiss to the chest.

Anatomy. Welt Yang.

Word Count: 1,500+

Thank you for the ask, Stardust <3 Now we just gotta fan over Welt together

The mattress hit your knees as you stepped backward, the cushions something you barely had the chance to register the comfort of before you were tripping over your own two feet and falling backward. The form on top of you doing little to help. Rather, it was only making it worse as Welt fell on top of you with an over exaggerated oof! Hair askew and glasses nearly falling off his nose from the game of tag you two were playing only minutes before around his room.

Having ducked around the desk, the trashcan full of crumpled up paper, a giant stuffy March gifted him as a thank you for helping her on their last shared Trailblaze mission, and lastly workout equipment.

All over one pencil.

His favorite, or so, Welt claimed. Apparently, it had the perfect grip, so it sat comfortably in his hand. To draw, it proved the best one was familiar with the materials they used. Like how every painter has a favorite medium as either watercolor, gouache, ect, seeped into the bristles of their brush.

Graphite covered the side of his hand, staining it a metallic gray you had grown accustomed to seeing in him when he slipped the gloves off and sat before the sketchbook he kept. One that was nearly falling apart now, bindings getting looser with every time he pried it open to add another drawing to the collection. If not that, to slip pages of your own horrendous attempts at doodling him away for safekeeping.

Despite your protests to simply crumple the paper up and toss it away as the garbage you saw it as, Welt insisted otherwise. Said it was something precious to keep, memories embedded in the scribbles that could barely resemble a human face. Nothing like his art. Not from what you've seen, at least.

You had seen him make circles and lines into something more than what you could see them as. A circle turned into a head, a box into a ribcage, a line, and another line paired together to make tweezers. It was only when that item was added did it click in your mind he was drawing the picture he took of you earlier that day plucking your eyebrows. For some reason.

“I believe this means you owe me my own materials back.”

“Now why would I do that?” You asked, trying to hold out your arm even further so Welt couldn't slip it out of your hold. To pluck it from your hand like one would a loose string on a shirt. Or, as is the case with the two of you, his scarf. Though, it's not like your effort could do much against the man who could, quite literally, make the item float out of your hand and back into his own.

Surely that had to be classified as cheating.

“Are you going back on your word from before, honey? I distinctly recall you saying you could wait for me to finish what I was working on.”

Yet here you are, still trying to play keep away.

“Yeah, but then I got bored.”

A sigh. One that brushed against your skin from how close he was. Like this, you could even make out the sparkle in his eyes. Or it could just be a speck of lint on his lenses. One of the two. “I suppose that's fair.”

“Exactly. So….” You trailed off. Honestly, you weren't expecting to get this far, so it wasn't a surprise you found your own words to be suddenly falling flat. “Well, if you are so intent on focusing on art, why don't you teach me something?”

There, interactive. An olive branch offered to his outstretched hand, grasping something you can do together.

“Teach you?” Welt repeated, mulling over the words as they rolled over his tongue. “I can work with that.”

The pencil was pulled from your hand before you could even whine in protest as he pulled away. Leaving you to place it on his sketchbook only to return shortly after. Mattress creaking once again as hands, now free to do as they pleased, slid along your cheek. Thumb right under your eye.

“You're a hands-on student, aren't you? If I remember correctly…”

“I am.”

Welt muttered an “excellent” as his thumb brushed through your lashes. Your eye squeezed shut on instinct, but this didn't seem to deter him at all. “Then we can start with our first lesson now.”

“That being, professor?” You didn't miss his eyebrows burrowing ever so slightly at the nickname, but still you smiled up at him like nothing was wrong.

“Basic shapes. We can start through profiles as an example.” His touch moved to the eyebags you had been sporting that morning, running along the colored hue of the skin that gave away your bad sleeping habits. Again. “The head is not perfectly rounded, but the shape that resembles the dome of the skull the best is still a circle. Eyes are round under the lid, also best drawn using a circle first.”

“I'm getting some real creepy imagery here, teach.”

“I can understand that. It might have been easier to pull up images instead to give you something to see. To lead by example.”

“But?” You asked, head tilting ever so slightly as you watched Welt silently mouth words.

“But first, let me ask you something. When I ask you to pick something round, specifically on the human body, what do you think of first?”

Well, your first thought was balls, but you were going to keep that one under a tight lid. Maybe even in a trash can. Though that does risk the chance of Stelle rummaging through and finding your secrets.

Second? Well, that was easy.

“The callous on your finger.”

Accrued from hours, days, years even of leaning over pen and paper and letting the images in his mind come to life. Something that's not perfectly round, but it always caught your attention nonetheless. Your own fingers ran over the bump anytime you hold hands.

“I think of a ring.” Before you could question him on that, Welt slid his thumb over your lips. It was second nature to press a kiss to it, just like it was second nature for him to smile at the gesture. “Or that earring you always lose and I have to find for you.”

“No need to call me out like that.”

“Ah, I apologize.” The look in Welt's eyes was enough to tell you that even if he was sorry, he still knew he had a point.

“Yeah, yeah, what else? I can't learn to draw from circles alone, professor.”

“This 'professor’ is beginning to think the student is in a rush. Now that's no good way to get A’s in my,” He took a moment to look around the room again, taking in the place you two shared and made your own on the express, “class.”

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry.”

“Your tone tells me otherwise.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop the smirk that was hoping to overcome you.

“As for more lessons, there are topics we can focus on.”

As he spoke, Welt's hand slid down your neck, tracing the hollow where the skin met your collarbone. Your shirt shifted ever so slightly out of the way, brushing against your skin the same way he was as his lips fell to meet yours.

“Anatomy, for example.”

“Now that's a big step from shapes.”

A giant leap, actually. You couldn't even draw a perfect circle, but here he is suggesting something that you've seen even him struggle with. Reference photos had been pulled up countless times as he drew. It was that, or, you'd find Welt standing before the mirror to see how his body shifts in this new pose. He's even asked you to indulge him once or twice and move along with how he places you, pen in his mouth as he chews on it to help him think. Or so he claims.

“No need to worry, we can start small. Besides, did you not just say you can't learn to draw from circles alone?”

Ahh, your own words. What a great way to turn them around and shove them back in your mouth. Something to choke on for fun.

“And what is this something small, professor?”

Fingers toyed with your shirt, unbuttoning it as Welt looked up at you, making sure this was okay. Just like he always did. With your nod, he continued, undoing the top three until the tank top you were underneath was peaking out.

“It's simple. Simple enough that I can show you.” Welt said. His lips met your chest, heart thrumming under him, beating wildly in an attempt to escape and give him what has already been his since the moment you first saw his smile at a stupid dad joke. Of all things.

“But something tells me this will be easier to do without these clothes in the way. Do you mind, honey?”

And of course you didn't mind at all.

[putrid-sex-machine]

KiNKTOBER DAY 28 ❀ LEON

PROMPT: fucking machine, sex pollen & dub-con

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut (obv), dub-con (typical sex pollen stuff), sex pollen, monster fucking, plant monster, leon is a bottom idk what to tell u

A/N: what can i say, i love torturing leon kennedy<3. I'll be honest, the first version got away from me a little... This is how the fic was originally planned to go, i'm not sure how i got so side tracked lol. anyways, hope you enjoy!! (^_^) art is by @citrine-elephant (lmk if u dont want me using ur art here)

check out the alternative version of this fic here

this fic has nsft content. you have been warned.

Leon's only consolation was that he didn't do this to himself. Not this time at least. He was pushed into this. Tackled, really, by a B.O.W. with more limbs than he'd care to count. Or vines he supposes.

And to think things were going smoothly.

He'd been tasked with the investigation of what was rumored to be a Neo-Umbrella lab, and Leon had been too quick to assume safety, assume the place was empty as it seemed. It was open, empty, and the electricity miraculously still worked – practically a cakewalk. Aside from the absurd amount of plant growth that is.

Thinking this would be easy, though, turned out to be his first mistake.

Now he finds himself strapped into what (uncomfortably enough) seems to be a birthing chair, his legs forceably pulled apart to expose him. He'd be more bothered had he not been drunk off his ass on whatever unknown pollen-like substance fills the strange glass capsule hes now trapped in. Worse yet is his body's response to it all. He's hard, unbearably so. He'd find it humorous if the situation weren't so humiliating. He hasn't had a proper hard on in ages, (he can thank whiskey for that) yet this of all things has managed to do it for him. Pathetic.

A robotic female voice rings out, "Stage One completed. Stand clear of the Containment Area and prepare for Stage Two."

Whatever that means, Leon has no interest in staying to find out. He tries to jerk his arms free of the metal cuffs holding him, but its so hard to think, so hard to move, restraints aside. His body feels heavy and hot, betraying his mind and refusing to obey him. Still, Leon refuses to give in. He continues struggling against his binds, searching for some loose piece, something he can take advantage of. Nothing

"Stage Two activated," says the uncannily monotone voice. As if on cue (which, yeah, it probably is) a loud beep fills the capsule, followed by another wave of the intoxicating pollen. Leon hisses, steadying himself. He's already been exposed to the gas -- or whatever this is, he doesn't need anymore. He draws in several fast breaths, rapidly as he can. He then takes as deep a breath as he can manage, starting from his diaphragm to fill his stomach before letting it expand in his chest. He holds it, starting a mental count. He's trained with holding his breath for extended periods before, a useful skill to have in this line of work, but holding your breath on land is a lot harder than underwater. Without the diving reflex to slow his heartbeat plus his lack of preparation time, Leon estimates he has only about 3 minutes left.

But the machine seemingly had other ideas. Two large metal clamps slam down on his ribs, forcing the breath out of him and securing him further to the chair. He's given no choice but to inhale, coughing and sputtering as he fights to take a lungful of air with his chest unable to fully expand.

"Stage Two completed. Beginning Stage Three," Leon distantly hears, suddenly too dizzy to think. All he can focus on is the intoxicating sweetness of the pollen filling his nose, on how painfully hard hes become, on how restricting and hot his clothes are. As if on command, cool metal of the machine dips down to his stomach, running a blade along the cloth and graciously freeing his erection. He groans, hips instinctively tilting upwards as far as Leon can manage, desperate for friction.

Again, the machine seemingly hears his internal pleas, a small whirl ringing out before he's met with an incredible vibrating warmth around his cock, the sensation alone almost enough to make him cum.

"O-oh fuck--" Leon whines, unable to stop himself. His hips jerk up, gasping as he inhales more of that delicious pollen.

There's another whirl, this time followed by a slick, cold prodding sensation against his ass. He whines, allowing his legs to be spread even further by the machine as the artificial cock slides in. When it begins to vibrate Leon knows hes done for, crying out as he cums, barely registering the high-tech flesh-light sucking every last drop up. Even then it doesn't stop, the dildo continuing to pound into him lazily as it's vibrations intensify. It doesn't stop when he cums again either, it doesn't stop when he's crying, screaming and thrashing against his restraints, brows pulled taught as he whines uselessly in over stimulation. His hips continue to jerk up in time with the flesh-light, body betraying him as he fights to escape the overwhelming pleasure.

Every time he thinks he's finished, that he can't possibly cum again he does, that wonderful pollen filling his lungs and hardening his cock with ease. Gradually Leon finds himself drifting off, having lost track of how many orgasms he's had forced out of him, of how long he's been here. He's stopped caring too. He has no thoughts anymore. No perception of time. No worries. Getting out of here doesn't seem important anymore. This is good. This is right. Leon was made for this.

This is his new home.

[starssaroundmyscarssblog]

𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 (18+, MDNI)

pairing: teen!noel gallagher x fem!oc (fern gibson <3)

summary: in which noel tries not to get jealous over someone who he knows he shouldn't be worried about, and fern gets high for the first time to soothe the blow

word count: 3.29k

warnings: swearing, drugs, alcohol, oral (m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap!!), half-arsed orgasm (f!receiving), noel doesn't really do aftercare :/

a/n: so this was my first attempt of writing smut so i'll leave that there

PART ONE IS HERE

"not that, and fuckin' hell definitely not that."

giving noel free reign of her wardrobe wasn't something fern had thought to be in the deal for going out with him that night. she had near enough shown him everything she owned, feeling somewhat downtrodden when her suggestions were met with rejection. there was even barks of laughter from noel occasionally, lay sprawled on her bed as he watched her decide.

she held out a jumper and regretted it instantly. "ralph lauren? you think it's a good idea to wear ralph fuckin' lauren? christ fern, they won't even let you into the pissin' estate."

"so, not that one then."

fern was at a stump. there was hardly anything left in her wardrobe to chose from, unless she just went in her school uniform or her pyjamas. with a heavy sigh that bordered on an exasperated groan she started to toss clothing shoved into her draws over her shoulders. there was a flurry of navy and deep red, the occasional black or white shirt landing on a heap behind her.

noel cleared his throat. fern looked around. balancing on the end of his finger was something fern thought she'd never wear for more than thirty minutes, and never outside of her bedroom. "oh, absolutely not."

he scowled. "i didn't mean on its own! i mean your tits look fucking mega whenever ye wear it but i don' want ye walking round looking like a-"

"slapper?" fern offered, with a small 'meh', that meant noel more or less agreed.

it was tragic really. fern had been out with her friends and with noel multiple times, but his condition of her going out with him did little to calm her nerves. she'd met noel's friends before and it wasn't as if she didn't like them - they were a laugh and she got on well with most of them, but she'd never been to one of their houses and the worst thing she'd ever done in her teenage life was hardly comparable.

finally, noel rolled over and pulled a red top that was near enough the shade of merlot off the floor on his way to retrieve his cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. he'd seen fern wear it before - tiny straps, lacing over her tits and silky material that moved like water whenever she did.

"this, with those jeans." he finally announced.

"with which jeans?"

noel raised an eyebrow and spoke around his cigarette. "ye know which fuckin ones."

yeah, she did. fern bundled her clothes up and took them into the bathroom, grabbing a towel out of the laundry cupboard on her way down the hall. she turned the shower on and scrubbed at her body until all she could see were vanilla scented bubbles under water so hot the room was clouding over with steam.

when she emerged from the bathroom, honey scented hair dripping wet down the back of her silk top, noel was flicking through her record box. when fern started to spray various oils onto her hair noel didn't look up, far too engrossed in a limited edition of 'hatful of hollow' he'd never got his hands on, nor was he deterred from sliding it out of the sleeve to admire it further when she blasted her hair dryer on full.

her makeup was smudged delicately around her eyes, and fern rubbed at it until it looked artistically messy like she'd seen on the cover of her mum's 'cosmopolitan' magazines. her bangs stuck and flicked out above her ears - with a dash of hairspray she'd calmed the volume and tried to stick it closer to her scalp but to no avail. it looked as if she'd pulled a roller out of it with little care for tidying up the flyaways.

it was fine. fern looked in the mirror and pinched a rosy hue into her cheeks, giving her eyebrows a quick brush through. she looked like she should have been on the cover of nme, not wishing her boyfriend would look at her instead of ogling an album cover.

it was nearly nine o'clock by the time noel suggested, slotting the smiths back into their spot amongst the other bands in fern's record box of fame, that they have something to eat. fern had tied her cream jumper he'd had rejected over her shoulders and had her car keys held between her teeth as she filled her small bag with everything she needed.

"fuckin' shit, fern. might have to glue ye to me so no-one else tries to take ye." in an instant fern's head made sharp collision with the wall behind her as noel took her keys and set them down on her desk, wrapping his hands around the base of her neck as he pushed a kiss right in the valley of her chest. fern sighed and pulled noel back by his hair, moving him up to kiss him properly.

eventually she pulled away and grabbed her things, only to slip out of her room and down the stairs. her parents were sat in the dinning room finishing off their dinner with glasses of wine. "hi daddy," fern chirped, sliding behind her dad's chair to pull out a bottle of gin from the cupboard. she hid it behind her back and handed it off to noel when he stuck his head around the door brandishing two slices of toast.

noel was disappointed to see fern had put her jumper on properly.

fern grabbed noel by the arm and steered him to the door, hoping to evade the lens of her mother's camera. when mrs gibson cleared her throat and smiled politely at fern and noel from the entryway of the dinning room with her camera in hand. like muscle memory, fern and noel stood side by side with matching smiles as the flash went.

"oh, it's lovely like always," her mum cooed. "i take it you two are off now?" she asked, clearly intrigued.

fern hummed. "yeah, and we're actually running late so i'll see you tomorrow-" once again, her plans to shove noel out of the door and into her car were foiled by her dad's voice.

mr gibson strode out into the entrance hall and clapped a strong hand over noel's shoulder. "i'm not going to bore you two with the talk again because i know you know what i'm going to say. but noel, do keep her out of trouble and safe more than anything else please. am i right in thinking you're both going back to yours tonight?"

"yeah, that's righ', mr gibson. and don' worry, i'll keep an eye on her."

"that's my boy," fern's dad smiled and turned to his daughter. "and fernie, have you got everything for school tomorrow? a coat?"

"in the car, and i won't need a coat. we'll be inside pretty much all of the time anyway, and i've got my jumper."

eventually, mr gibson nodded and wrapped an arm around his wife. "well then, have fun and don't do anything stupid."

fern and noel waved as they shut the front door behind them, only breathing a sigh of relief when they'd pulled out of the driveway.

fern felt very, very small as she pulled up infront of the house noel directed her to. the house wasn't grand by any means, a carbon copy of noel's home just in the next estate over, but the drab brick and limp looking potted plants outside the front door which did little to brighten everything up didn't really calm her nerves.

burnage was okay because she knew people who lived there and she wasn't alone without noel, but heaton chapel was new ground to her all together. fern turned off the engine and shoved her jumper right into the bottom of her school bag, sat on the back seat. noel was already standing at the bottom of the tiny path lighting up a cigarette, motioning for fern to get out of her car.

"haven't got cold feet have you, princess?" he asked, smirking.

fern wrapped her hand around the neck of the bottle of gin. she unscrewed the cap and took a large sip, shaking her head and fluffing her hair up in the rear view mirror whilst muttering "fuck off" to him. she stepped out of the car and marched right past noel, shivering as she knocked sharply three times onto the glass in the front door.

noel nearly laughed as he grabbed her upper arm and just opened the door, guiding her inside. "they're so fuckin' out of their minds they won' hear a bomb going off, love. it's better if we just appear."

"oh."

again once they were inside, it was no wonder noel knew exactly were he was going and fern did too. even the interior and layout was exactly the same as noel's house, from the carpet in the living room to the colour of the wooden banister on the stairs. except, the smell of cigarettes that fern was used to after spending a few hours in noel's room was overly strong in each step she took. perhaps turning up with just a bottle of gin was considered empty handed.

they entered the living room to see noel's mates and a few of their girlfriends draped over the sofa and sat around the floor littered with empty cans and cigarette butts. noel grabbed a can from the table and cracked it open before they were even acknowledged, and he picked up another one and threw it at someone's head.

when he looked around at them, fern recognised him as tony. she didn't know where mike was, which was strange when she was in his house. "noel! alrigh', mate?"

"yeah, yeah. you alrigh'?"

tony hummed, and halfway through reaching for the bottle of gin fern was holding out, he saw her. "oh. you alrigh' as well, fern? mike mentioned something about you coming."

noel watched out of the corner of his eye as he leaned over to cheri, tony's girlfriend, who held out a joint for him. he took a drag as tony fought hard to keep his eyes above fern's neck as he spoke to her, but he betrayed himself when fern bent down to put the bottle of gin on the table. noel gave him a sharp thump on the back. "watch it," he muttered close to her ear, "he's a dirty fucking cunt so don't take anythin' he gives you."

in that moment, fern had never felt more disassociated with the world around her. with another giggle bursting from her lips sealed with her hand, she took the third joint tony was passing around that evening. she'd only drank what noel gave her or what she chose herself, but with a sparkle of defiance in her eye, fern leaned closer to cheri when she offered her a smoke when they were sat outside.

"you don't have to," she said, cracking open a can. a whoop from tony cut through the air from the living room, "if you just act it they'll think you've done it."

fern looked at the burning end of the cylinder. with a finger she beckoned for cheri to lean close enough for her to reach. noel slid through the back door just in time for fern to make direct eye contact with him as she took a drag. she stifled her cough and cheri looked chuffed, twisting around to see noel. "sorry to break your rule."

it was a whirlwind from there on out. fern felt so light yet could feel every fibre of the carpet beneath her feet, and her nerves were ablaze when noel's hand ran over her thigh and came to rest between her legs while they were on the sofa. she curled onto him and pushed herself up against his chest, looking over her shoulder when mike finally announced his presence with a crash.

he held a plastic bag full of bottles clanging together above his head with a cigarette between his lips, eyes boring right at fern and noel. "fuck off mate, i thought you were joking about fern coming."

noel shrugged flippantly with one arm, while the other tightened his hold on fern's waist to pull her closer into him. the bare skin from where the silk of her top had ridden up pressed against the cooling buckle of his belt. "hi mike," fern managed to reach far enough over the small coffee table to cheri's hand, plucking the fresh joint out of her hand.

she wound her hand down noel's ribs and traced her nails all the way to his back pocket, where the felt around for a lighter. fern produced one and lit up the joint, sliding off noel to stand up next to mike. she took his cigarette out of his mouth and replaced it with hers (cheri's), feeling noel's eyes on her the whole time.

noel watched fern as she seemed to slide around the room, moving from bottle to can to shot to glass, laughing loudly with cheri who she'd never exchanged more than three sentences with before that evening. it was warm in the living room, no surprises when there was teenagers smoking like chimneys over every inch of floor space, but fern was covered in patches of goosebumps when noel pulled her back down onto him whilst on her way to get another drink from the kitchen.

fern collapsed next to him and began to laugh when he started to push hot and open mouthed kisses all along the shell of her and down the delicate column of her neck. she pulled him away and flung a leg over his waist, setting herself down right in the middle of his lap. noel's hands rushed all over her thighs held tightly by her jeans until they flared out gently at her knees.

noel felt himself leaning forwards when she reclined, catching her gaze focussed on tony who was pressing a cigarette to her lips with a hand all the way across her collar bone and under the tiny straps. she didn't pull away, only remained frozen in place until she sank down against noel's chest when he was called away by mike. his gaze lingered for once not on astrid's pretty face but her nipples that were straining against the thin silk, pouring over her body like water when she moved against him.

fern held noel's face in her hands, brushing the corners of his lips with her thumbs and tracing by the crease in the corner of his eye with her indexes. she kissed him and felt the coarse material of his shirt against her chest, letting him swallow her quiet moans when he ran his hands over her arse.

eventually she pulled away for a brief thirty second respite, only to heave out "you're right," breathily into his ear while her nails ran down his neck and her hands pushed past the collar of his shirt, "he's a dirty cunt who's watching me right now."

noel bundled fern up and whisked her up the stairs, stopping halfway up to grab her chin and push his thumb against her bottom lip. "yer perfect," he whispered against her tits as soon as he locked the door of the tiny box room at the top of the stairs, kissing them as fern slithered onto his lap again and pushed him down against the mattress, "fuckin' perfect."

she didn't know where the confidence came from, but fern wasn't going to let go of the chance. she unbuttoned noel's shirt and with her other hand grazed over the slight tent in his trousers as she kissed along his shoulders. he watched as she slowly removed his belt and unzipped his fly, pulling his half-hard cock out of his boxers, neglected while she kissed him again. it looked almost painful, the way her nipples were straining against her top, and she shivered when the rough callouses on noel's fingers traced over them.

fern drew away, moving to grab his cock in her hand. she stroked him once and swiped her thumb over his leaking tip to gather the pre-cum, slicking her hand up as she traced with a tantalisingly light touch all the way up the underside of his shaft. noel watched as fern's hand swallowed him up, and soon enough he was bucking up into her fist - it was probably the weed which had made him to sensitive to everything she was doing.

but when fern started to trace lazy shapes over his v-line and around the base, noel whimpered a small "fuck," and pushed his head back further against the pillow. "fern, i'm-" she licked him once and noel's hand, on instinct, grabbed her hair when he felt the tip of his cock brush against the back of her throat. fern pulled off abruptly and wiped the saliva that had gathered at the corners of her mouth away with the back of her hand.

she discarded her jeans into a corner of the room with a flick of her arm and grabbed noel's hand, shaking slightly, and pushed his fingers right up against her throbbing heat. the straps of her top slid down her shoulders, glowing with a sheen under the light, and noel pulled the v-cut of the neckline further down. his mouth latched onto one of her nipples, and fern moaned when his fingers started to circle her clit at a torturously slow pace.

he slipped past her underwear and moved it to the side, feeling the slick as he pulled her closer to him. fern braced herself with a hand digging into his shoulder, whilst she reached down and pulled his hand away. she whined at the loss of contact but sank her pussy down onto his cock immediately after.

she could feel every inch of him against her walls, each of her nerve endings alight with pleasure as she began to move up and down. fern could tell noel was close to finishing when his fingers dug into the flesh on her hips and he turned them both around, snapping his hips up three times to meet her cunt, each stroke coating him in her juices. fern's hand ran down her body and rubbed her fingers furiously against her clit as she sighed out "fuck noel, fuck i'm so close," right into his ear.

he held her thigh up and pushed into her once more, letting out a guttural groan as he pulled out and spilt over her heaving chest, white cum leaking over her stomach and staining the silky material of her top lying in a wrinkled band around her torso. fern whined at the sensitivity of it all - his quick actions had yanked her from the intense feeling of her own orgasm, replacing it with emptiness and a hollow fulfilment.

noel sat beside her, pulling his jeans up and re-buttoning his shirt. fern wondered what to do about her top. she'd borrowed it from eloise months ago and never gave it back, noel thought it was hers, and fern was hardly going to toss it into the washing basket at home and risk her mum seeing it. instead she peeled it off and pushed her hair back from her sweaty forehead.

in the short-lived afterglow a feeling of nausea came over her, sobering her from the drink and drugs with the weight of a freight train. noel disappeared downstairs and returned with his jacket, a cigarette back between his lips. "c'mon," he wrapped an arm around fern's shoulder, her silent body moving with him out of the house with his jacket zipped up right to her chin, "let's get you home, you look like you've been put through the fuckin' rinser."

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🎸

[pillowspace]

hi! hope ur doing well! out of curiosity, do you have an ISAT playlist? and if so, would you be cool with sharing it? I’ve been trying to find some good songs related to the game and i’m familiar with a lot of the artists you listen to so i figured i’d ask :)

I only just recently joined the In Stars and Time fandom, so I don't have many songs yet, but yeah!

I also started typing out notes under the readmore for (most of) the songs because I thought I'd only have a few, but then I... kept thinking of more songs, so the notes section got bigger? So uh...!! Feel free to read that or not. Up to you, shrug

I actually had not heard this song until my Spotify started randomly playing recommended songs while I was in the middle of drawing Siffrin, and the second I started processing the lyrics about familiarity and time travel, I did a startled glance over like "wh... what's playing??" This song plagues my ISAT visions

---

Genuinely been wanting to make an animatic out of the first minute but I don't know if I have it in me. Just saying, the "smi-i-i-ile" has enough in it to fit every different photo from the mirror

---

FLASHING COLOURS AT THE 3 MINUTE MARK:

One specific thing I have to note with this song is that I like to envision Siffrin waking up in the meadow on the line "the day I wake up naked in the dirt."

---

"The million what if Is between your ears. The feelings of regret, and now I'm running to forget. But know, the consequence of imagination's fear" thinks about Siffrin and Bonnie, thinks about Siffrin and Bonnie, thinks ab-- oh yeah, and the bit about ruby eyes reminds me of 2hats

---

FLASHING AT THE 3 MINUTE MARK AND LOUD POTENTIALLY OVERWHELMING SOUNDS AT THE END:

A song about feeling hurt and giving all that you've gone for an acting performance?? Back to the stage, Siffrin

---

There's some lines that aren't too too fitting for ISAT, but I'm fond of this song, so I can spin a meaning onto them with enough thinking power. Nonetheless, there still are plenty of fitting parts. Post-canon Siffrin coping after the loops :)

---

Interestingly, I've actually had this song associated with going mad from time loops since ages before I played In Stars and Time. "Maddening. It's a regular bad thing" and "nothing's really happening." Plus "I'm afraid to lose you" ties into ISAT pretty well

---

Specifically Loop tends to cross my mind whenever this comes on lately

---

I like to imagine this being about Siffrin as a child on their island being a little wanderer before that meant something else, then it slowly leading into Siffrin's adulthood (bend gravity and space being about the loops)

---

I'll never hear the sound of someone calling me home... I was the beast all alone in my hell........

[withcameraandpen]

Sondam Week 2024: Day 3

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for all your lovely comments on the first two days! Everyone's art and fics are so fun, we're a very creative bunch! Here's chapter 3 of the Despair Killings, which you can read on AO3 here!

The next day, Sonia drove across town to the office of Hope Springs Therapy, LLC. It was an old residential home that had been converted to a business, situated in a secluded grove off the main road.

She drove to the gravel parking lot that stretched over what used to be the backyard and parked alongside a familiar sleek black car. He said yesterday that he’d be coming, but she hadn’t been prepared to show up at the same time as him. She hadn’t planned for much of anything, having slept fitfully all night, only to wake with one thought in her head: I have to know more.

She got out and walked to the back door of the house, which had become the front door of Hope Springs. Without hesitation, she opened it and went inside.

She was assaulted by the strong smell of incense. The room was painted a soothing green and furnished with a modern square sofa and a thick, plushy rug. A white door sat in the wall, which did not meet the corner and instead opened into a narrow hallway. Sonia sat on the sofa and waited.

She only waited twenty minutes before the white door opened and spat out Nagito Komaeda, Witch Creek’s only therapist, followed by Gundham. Gundham’s eyes widened when they landed on Sonia, and then warning flashed across them.

“Hello there, Sonia,” said Komaeda, drawing close to her. “Forgive me, I had no idea you were out here. Were you waiting long?”

She shook her head. “I know it’s short notice,” she said, “but I was wondering if you had an opening in your schedule.”

He frowned in disappointment. “I do, but I’m afraid it’s quite small. We won’t get much done, especially since you’re a new client.”

“Please, Nagito,” she begged, avoiding Gundham’s eye. “My friend was killed yesterday.”

“I see.” His face softened, though his expression had an unmistakable gravity to it. “We can begin an intake. We’ll mostly be gathering information, but that means we can hit the ground running if you wish to schedule something in the future.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Very well.” Komaeda turned to Gundham and simpered, “I trust you have everything you need?”

“I do,” Gundham replied stonily. “Please remain in town while our investigation is underway.”

“Of course, sir. Have a good day, and drive safe.”

“Likewise,” Gundham replied, eyeing Sonia harshly as he walked out the door.

Komaeda cleared his throat and gestured to the door. “Ladies first.”

She walked through the door. This room was much cozier, furnished with an overstuffed loveseat, an armchair, and a little desk and calendar crammed in the corner. Mercifully, the incense smell was gone. She sat on the loveseat while Komaeda browsed the drawer of a filing cabinet. He plucked out a form, stuck it to a clipboard, and then sat in the armchair across from her.

“Like I said, we’ll just be information gathering today,” he said, his voice calm and smooth. “Let’s take some contact information, okay?”

She rattled off her name, address, and phone number. “I know you said you were here because your friend died yesterday,” Komaeda said slowly. “Are you referring to Kazuichi Soda?”

She nodded. He continued, “I assume you’re here for grief counseling, then?”

“Yeah.” She blinked away her tears. She hadn’t conjured them on purpose, but they helped her performance nonetheless.

Komaeda asked, “Keep in mind that grief, while it can be lifelong, is not the only reason to seek mental health support. If you wish to talk about anything else, feel free to bring it up.”

She shook her head, her gaze drifting to the calendar, which was filled with red dashes and stars. “I can’t think of anything now. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Loss can be all-consuming. If something does come to mind down the road, we can work on it together.” He made a note on his clipboard. “Finally, what is your greatest fear?”

Her head whipped back to him. “I’m sorry?”

He looked up at her with a honeyed smile. “Many clients will come in to seek support, but they resist the work because they’re afraid of change. I find exploring fear at the root can do a lot to help people open their minds.”

She hesitated. She had come here to learn anything she could about Fuyuhiko, but all of a sudden, she felt as though she was in Komaeda’s crosshairs instead.

“I’ll go first,” he said. “I’m afraid of bees.”

“You are?”

“Oh, very. Ever since I was a child.” He tilted his head. “Your turn.”

She paused again, but much shorter. “Suffocation,” she finally answered.

“And why is that?”

The real answer was it was the first thing she thought of, but what she told Komaeda had a grain of truth to it, too. “Because then I can’t call for help.”

Her mini session ended thirty minutes later. She learned virtually nothing about Fuyuhiko or his wife, Peko; when she guided the conversation toward the serial murders, Komaeda was eager to steer it back toward her emotions or whatever. As if that was important at a time like this!

She felt oddly gooey as she walked back outside, like she’d collapse at any moment. Therapy was a physical process as well as an emotional one; she needed to go home and rebind herself into a productive citizen.

Except when she reached the parking lot, a stern Gundham was waiting by her car.

“You are endangering yourself.” His deep voice lacked the warmth she was used to hearing in it.

“I’m doing no such thing,” she retorted. “My friend was murdered yesterday, and I’m seeking counseling.”

His jaw clenched. “My apologies, Sonia. Should I have known Komaeda was the only therapist in town, I would never have shared that information with you. I understand you are mourning your friend, but if you continue to involve yourself in the case –”

“What, you’ll tell on me?” she scoffed.

“I will be forced to suspect you.” His eyes were hard. “I believe you would never hurt Mister Soda, but if this continues, I will be forced to question why you are interfering with the official investigation.”

“How dare you! Didn’t you just clear me yesterday?”

“I did, but I am fallible.”

“What happened to all that stuff about fire?” she spat. “Wasn’t this what you were talking about? You said you wanted me to help!”

“I wanted you to help without putting yourself in danger.” He loomed over her, unconscionably tall and dark. “We have not found a connection between the murders yet, which means anyone can be the next victim.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” she begged. “Just sit back and wait for them to get me, too?”

His face softened, the hard lines losing their depth. “I am deeply sorry for your loss. I know how painful it is to go day by day without answers. In the wake of tragedy, every day feels like a week, and every week feels like a year.”

His forehead creased as he gazed into her eyes. “You are suffering, as are the Miodas, Mister Soda’s father, the Nidais, and what is left of the Kuzuryus. The one balm I can give you will take time to prepare, and even then, it can only soothe the pain. It cannot repair the harm.

“I would give you answers if I had them, but I do not. Until then, taking justice into your own hands will only do more harm, placing you and others in danger.”

Her insides still felt like jelly, but now it gave her a queasy, frustrated feeling. “Do people ever believe that speech?”

“No,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Unfortunately, he was right. She was desperate for any scrap of information she could get her hands on; but a community like Witch Creek lived and died on sharing scraps of information, truth be damned.

Gundham’s voice cut through her gunky mind. “Can I drive you home?”

“No, I – I drove here. I’ll be fine.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Gundham.”

“It is all right,” he said. “But please, stay safe. I know I am asking the impossible, but I fear if you continue, my lady, harm will come to you.”

Sonia jolted in bed, jarred awake by a loud sound.

She sat up and fumbled for the lamp on her nightstand. When she switched it on, she found her bedroom as neat and tidy as when she went to sleep. She sat there, blinking blearily as she tried to identify the sound that woke her up. And she was a deep sleeper, so all she knew was that something had woken her up, but she couldn’t recall it.

A tree branch falling? No, that would shake the whole place. She lived in the apartment above her bookshop in the heart of town, so she was accustomed to hearing car alarms and drunken revelry, too, but it was neither of those things, either.

She looked at her bedroom window, reaching for her curtain when realization struck her: she had heard the shattering of glass.

Her storefront was all glass, but she was too far away to hear that shattering. No, it must have been one of the windows on the second floor, in her apartment.

As silently as possible, she flicked off the lamp and reached for her pepper spray on the nightstand. Maybe it was a tree after all, whipped against her house by the winds. Maybe she was overreacting— In the crack under her door, usually illuminated by her oven’s light, she saw the shadows of a pair of footsteps in her hallway.

[nowoyas]

Koi no Yokan 3: guilt tastes like cola garigari-kun (Nishinoya Yuu x Reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: once again, I will remind that if you plan to read the footnotes, ao3 is the best way to read. if you don't care or intend to read them all at the end without referencing what they're marked on with the text, feel free to carry on with the tumblr crosspost!

Summary: Popsicles with the guys and popsicles alone.

Warnings: some family-related angst

Word count: ~3500

"You know, when I said I'd bet actual money, I didn't mean you had to actually do anything. We didn't even say 'deal'."

He does not let up. You survived practice as before, with a bit more interest and a bit more focus on understanding what was going on, only to find Nishinoya waiting for you at the gate after you changed out.

"Your chance to protest was when I said I'd buy it for you this morning," he replies easily.

"I did protest. You ignored me."

"I don't remember that! Come on, let's go to Sakanoshita. We need to plan anyway, right?"

"…fine. I will allow you to buy me one popsicle."

"One box? Got it."

You snort. "Remember what I said this morning about actually listening to me?"

"I am! You said 'one'. You didn't give units."

That you didn't. "I didn't think it need to be said."

"Compromise: I'll get you just one popsicle, but you gotta promise to enjoy it!"

"And if I feel bad letting you spend money on me?"

"That's why you've gotta enjoy it! What's the point of life if you don't let yourself have something you like every now and then?"

You bite back the suggestion that you might not even like popsicles. There's probably a point where protesting just gets annoying, anyway, for you and the other person. And if he wants to, and if you don't have a real reason not to…

This, you think, may be what's wrong with you: you say yes when you don't feel like saying no strongly enough. You aren't sure, really, what else to say. So you let the pretty second-year drag you to the convenience store for ice cream you "won" in a "bet" no one made, and because it keeps you from having to go home as soon, you loiter with him and a few others outside the store. You take your time, hold conversation not to be polite or to entertain anyone, but because it makes the popsicle take longer, keeps you from going home for just a few minutes more. It does not make the popsicle taste sweeter. If there's a next time—and you suspect there will be—you'll have to push back a bit harder against the whole "buying you things" thing.

Your one consolation is that they're not all here for you. You doubt they would be, but still: Hinata and Kageyama have found some new topic to bicker about, the third years sans Shimizu are busily chatting over nikuman, and Tanaka and Ennoshita have relieved you of being Nishinoya's sole focus for the time being.

"So. [name]-san."

You glance up from your popsicle³ (cola-flavored, because you're sensible). "Mm?"

“I heard plenty about our practice match yesterday from Yachi-san⁴ talking to Shouyo, but someone didn't give her thoughts on how awesome we were."

You roll your eyes. "Uh-huh? That so?"

"Yeah! What'd you think?"

Tanaka and Ennoshita regard you with mild interest. Of course they do. You can't imagine any high school boy not wanting to hear compliments about how well they played. "I'm not gonna yell like she did. No shade to her, of course. That's just not me."

"I'm not asking you to! I just wanna hear all about how cool you think I am."

That draws a laugh from you. "Fine. I'll be honest, since you went out of your way to buy me a popsicle I didn't ask for and specifically told you you didn't have to buy for me."

"Really!?"

"Watch," Ennoshita says quietly to Tanaka, "this is the part where [surname]-san eviscerates him."

"It was fun. You guys are interesting to watch, and I could tell by watching you play that you're good."

"And...?"

"And I followed your advice by watching specific players instead of the ball." You pause, take a moment to save a melting bit of runaway popsicle from certain ruin. "I guess it was helpful."

"You guess? Who were you watching?"

The popsicle is really adding to this experience. Namely that it allows you a moment to figure out the most fun way to respond, which is, of course, to mess with him. "…Kageyama-san."

He looks stricken. "[name]-san?"

Tanaka laughs. "Man, no wonder you proposed on sight, Noya-san. She's perfect for you."

"Right? C'mon, [name]-san, hurry up and marry me already!"

"Nine hundred ninety-two, but thanks for the popsicle."

"I think maybe you should try making her feel welcome instead of pressuring the girl, but what do I know?" Ennoshita says.

"I'm not pressuring her!" he protests. "I even asked if she was okay with everything!"

"He did," you admit. "Oh—that reminds me. Nishinoya-senpai, did you wanna, like, meet up over lunch for the study thing, or…?"

He visibly lights up. "Right!"

"Study thing?" Tanaka asks. "What study thing?"

"Hinata mentioned you guys can't have any make-up exams or you have to miss some practice matches or something, right? I can't exactly tutor, seeing as I'm only a first year and have no idea what you guys are doing in class, but I offered to give him some tips for actually studying in a way that does anything. "

"R-really? Can you help me out, too? If that's not too much trouble!" Tanaka bows deeply to you.

"Sure, why not?"

"Not to get between all this," Ennoshita pipes up, "but you two definitely already gave up all of your lunches between now and exams."

"Chikaraaa," Nishinoya whines. "Isn't this important?"

"Sure, but not necessarily more important than you actually going over the material. Why not study on the weekend?"⁶

"Is that okay?" The two look to you.

You shrug. "I don't really do things, so I don't mind. Why not?"

"You'd really give up your weekend for us?"

"Oh, but I guess we can't use a classroom or something if it's the weekend. My house is no good, either…"

"Ryu, if you're coming, it's gotta be my place," Nishinoya says.

"Why yours? My house is perfectly good."

"She lives down the street from me. Makes more sense, right?"

"[surname]-san, are you really okay with that? These two can be a lot."

"Oh, I don't mind!" You wave a dismissive hand. "Really. It'll be rough playing without the full team if everyone can't go to Tokyo, right? And Yachi-san's already got Hinata and Kageyama-san locked down. Not that I think I'll be nearly as helpful. More of a longer-term solution thing."

"Do you think it'll actually stick?"

You smile. Tilt your head. "I'll see what I can do."

~

Nishinoya insists on walking you home afterward. You accept, namely because you can't really justify not walking with him when you're going the same way. You do not, however, let him carry your bag, although he insists pretty hard on doing that, too.

"I can't believe you said yes to Ryu crashing our study date," he teases.

"Date?" You raise an eyebrow. "That's news to me, Senpai. Besides, I didn't really have a good reason to say no."

"Is that all it is? Do you secretly just not want to hang out with me?"

"That's not it. I'm just too nice of a person. I'll be a saint whenever I get around to dying."

Yeah, that's good enough. The sarcasm soothes the ache just a little bit.

"Pretty sure you already are. I mean, I worship you, so—"

You snort. "No, you don't. You barely know me."

"I'd like to, though."

Your steps stutter to a stop. "Do you just, like, say everything that pops into your head, or like what?"

"Not everything! But most things, yeah."

"That explains the marriage proposals. You should rethink that, by the way. Pretty sure you're supposed to love someone before you even think about proposing."

"Haven't you heard of love at first sight? I knew from the moment I saw you that I needed to marry you!" He punctuates his sentence with a dramatic thump of his chest.

"Right. Yeah. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but love at first sight is a myth. Whatever you're feeling right now isn't love. It's just chemicals in your head telling you to find a mate because our brain chemistry hasn't caught up to modern society."

"How is my brain chemistry telling me to do something not the same as me wanting it?"

…he has a point, but you're the one who's right here. You stand your ground. "It's just different, alright? I'm not trying to be mean or anything. You seem like a nice guy. But you're setting yourself up for failure if you get attached here, and… I don't know. It's kinda obvious you haven't thought about this. At all. I'm not gonna be the one responsible if you get hurt chasing me, you know?"

"Is that why you told me to ask a thousand times?"

"Yeah, kinda." You fall into step beside him again with a sigh. "Mostly on impulse, though. It seems that I just sort of say things around you."

He grins. "That's love."

You're not dignifying that with a response.

"How about this? I'll keep up with my proposals, because a thousand is a big number to get through, and you stick around long enough for me to get to know you, and by the time I hit a thousand, you'll be ready to admit that you wanna marry me."

"You're impossible. Do you do this with every girl who gives you the time of day?"

He tosses his head back as he laughs. "Only the pretty ones."

"And let me guess, you think every girl's pretty?"

"You really are psychic! But, you know, there's only one pretty girl who's ever given me the time of day."

"Right." You pause, nod to his house. "Go home, Casanova. And don't stay up too late studying. Your brain can't actually form memories if you don't rest it."

He waves as he goes. "I'll pick you up tomorrow!"

"Stalker!" you call back in reply.

~

Okay, so that didn't go the way you planned. At all, really. So that's cool.

You meander slowly on your way home—just a few doors down, really not far at all, honestly, it's a marvel that you've never once run into him before—a bit wary of the thought that he might see which house is yours. It's not that you sense any threat from him. Nothing like that. You just… don't want any questions if he happens to recognize the house.

You don't bother calling out any sort of greeting when you get home—there's no way your father darkens the door before eleven at the earliest. Instead, you kick off your shoes in the genkan, nudge them to the side and out of the way so he doesn't trip on them later, and move right to getting started on dinner. Over washing and peeling potatoes, you try to think this whole thing through properly.

If you told him you were uncomfortable or didn't want him to, Nishinoya probably wouldn't press the issue. You don't think he would have even bothered checking if he didn't care at least a little bit about your answer. Admittedly, after the Shimizu-flying-leap-slap incident, he did seem to back off pretty noticeably, too. Hell, the other volleyball club members have made pretty clear that they'll tell him off on your behalf, so you wouldn't even have to say it to him directly.

But… he's nice. That's the part you can't seem to move past. Nishinoya Yuu is nice. You haven't smiled this much since your mother's death, admittedly for lack of trying. It's nice getting complimented every morning just for showing up. Nicer when it's a day you know you look like shit. You don't really mind the whirlwind keeping you from coming back to an empty house.

You always look a little lonely, Yachi had said. Does your suitor think the same? Did you look so lonely that he had to make you feel better even before he got your name?

Do you actually feel less lonely like this?

You set aside the peeled potatoes to soak and sigh. Grab the cutting board to scrape the peels into the trash bin. All this gives you is another reason to sigh—it's full again. It makes meals easier, sure, but it stings a little to see the evidence of yet another convenience store dinner in the trash.

At least if you go through with this manager thing, your father won't be hurting for food.

Maybe you should start learning how to meal prep in bulk. If you go through with this manager thing, it'll be hard to keep up with chores and cook every night. The last thing you need is for your grades to drop.

You're out of milk again. Running low on rice, too. You barely have the ingredients to throw together a passable lunch for tomorrow, which means staying up tonight to actually catch your father when he gets home. But as much as you can skimp at home—and you do skimp this time, not bothering to assemble a real dinner so much as prepping extra lunch ingredients into something that won't give you food poisoning—you don't need anybody bugging you at school about why you're not eating or why your bento is just seventeen aging cherry tomatoes and a rice ball.

No, there's no getting around this. You work through homework as fast as you can manage, then curl up on the couch with a cookbook and a notepad and wait.

You wake up to the sound of stumbling in the doorway. You're not exactly sure why you bother making sure your father won't trip over your shoes when he regularly trips over the step into the house proper anyways. He's sober, it seems, but exhausted. The clock reads 11:49 PM—no wonder, if he's just getting home from work.

"Welcome home," you pipe up when he's caught his balance.

He jolts, looks up at you with a deer-in-headlights look like you've caught him having an affair or something. "[name]. You're still awake?"

"I fell asleep on the couch," you admit lamely, then wince at the wounded look on his face. "Just woke up."

"Alone?"

You shouldn't have waited up for him like this. It's just another way to re-open old wounds. Just another layer of awkwardness in this stupid fucking haunted house.

"Yeah. Sorry. I just—we need groceries."

"Right. Groceries. How much do you need?"

This is the part where you try not to feel bad. "Honestly? I'm not sure. Can I just get a card to use? Last time I misjudged the prices and couldn't get everything I needed, and it's hard to plan without going to the store. The price of eggs went up again, too."

He nods. "Sure. Yeah." There's a moment where he's fumbling for his wallet, and then, he's thrusting out a debit card in one hand, barely even looking at you. "I'll get you your own card when I have the time. For now, you can use that. The PIN's her birthday. I'll keep it topped up, don't you worry."

You take it. It doesn't feel like a victory.

"Now you won't have to stay up waiting for me anymore. Just get whatever you like, I'll keep eating at work."

"Okay. Thank you."

"You should head to bed."

"Okay."

He pitches a plastic bag, the remnants of another convenience store dinner, in the trash. Stumbles off to his bedroom.

Leaves you sitting on the couch, a debit card in your hands, half-finished shopping list on your lap.

Leaves his daughter to handle herself alone.

~

You make it through the next day as easily as any other: a bleary-eyed morning ("good morning [name]-san! Please agree to marry me today!"), taking careful notes in class, lunch blissfully alone. Post-afternoon practice, you get changed and stop at the gate, once again hearing your name called after you before you can escape.

"[name]-san! Wanna walk home together?"

For once, you have a reason to say no, and so you do. Apologetic smile, gentle dip of your head in lieu of a proper bow. "Sorry, Nishinoya-senpai. I have to go grocery shopping tonight, so I can't."

"Oh. Wanna go grocery shopping together, then? I can help carry your bags!"

"I can carry them myself," you say. "I usually handle the shopping alone, anyway."

"But it'd be easier if you let someone help you, right?"

…it would be easier. No big reasons to say no, one lukewarm reason to say yes. "…why not?"

So quietly marking up your grocery list gets crashed by a chatty, pretty guy who happily carries the groceries and sometimes even makes you laugh. In the frozen food section, you stop when a box of Cola-flavored popsicles catches your eye.

They're not on your list. You don't need them. There is no justification for buying popsicles with your dad's card.

"You gotta let yourself enjoy things every now and then," Nishinoya reminds you in a sing-song tone.

You glare at him.

That night, your groceries are half as difficult to carry home. You don't let Nishinoya carry them inside, just have him leave them on the porch and you'll come back for the rest. Before you start on dinner, you kick back with a guilt-flavored popsicle and try not to think about anything at all.

Footnotes

3. Noya's favorite food is the soda-flavored of the Garigari-kun popsicles, but I was doing research for this fic and discovered that not only are these popsicles more of ice pops than ice cream, but flavors include soda, cola, and melon pan. BREAD FLAVORED POPSICLES, guys. I'm the bread guy. The temptation to start a kickstarter to travel to Japan, find a convenience store, eat a single bread-flavored popsicle, and immediately leave is so high I'm not even kidding. I already researched and, as expected, you can't easily import ice pops from a country a solid sixteen hours away by plane. I don't wanna visit Japan for weeb reasons. I just want to know what a bread-flavored popsicle tastes like.

4. So, I scoured basically the entire canon to break down how Noya refers to people. First, I checked to see if he ever refers to Yachi by name. He, in fact, does not.⁵ In canon, they only interact directly twice. Haikyuu is short on girls by nature of being a shounen about a boys' volleyball team, so Noya only ever actually addresses three girls by name in canon: Shimizu, Saeko, and a third-year named Aya on the girl's team in s1e18. As a result, there's very limited data on how Noya interacts with girls. We've got "Kiyoko-san" (first name, -san, "anata" as a second-person pronoun), "Nee-san" (she would appear to ask any of Tanaka's friends to call her that, at minimum. No data on second-person pronoun usage, which isn't common in Japanese anyway), and "Aya-senpai" (first name, -senpai, no data on second-person pronoun usage). Noya's pretty liberal about familiarity with people he likes—for example, he jumps pretty quickly to calling Hinata "Shouyo" after a decent first impression, but the other first-year guys remain last name only for the duration of canon. He cares a little bit about being polite if he feels like he should be polite to them—all upperclassmen are -san save for Aya, who we can assume he only kind of knows and therefore feels less familiar with beyond, presumably, "girl pretty". Generally, I feel like he'd dial up the politeness just a touch with girls because, you know, girls. All that being said, Yachi is an underclassman and not super on Noya's radar, so I feel like she'd just be "Yachi-san" to him.

5. Admittedly, I did not check back on the drama CDs, but as far as I recall, there aren't any drama CDs starring both Yachi and Noya, at least not ones where they directly interact. This is, of course, a shame.

6. So canon sort of implies that Karasuno doesn't have classes on Saturdays during Yachi's introductory arc—Hinata and Kageyama come over on a Saturday to study and Hinata's like, "thank you for helping us study on a Saturday!" BUT during that scene (s2e3 if I remember correctly) Yachi is wearing her school uniform. So, research time! According to the Wikipedia⁷ article "Secondary education in Japan", schools that do meet on Saturdays have half days and let out around 1. Later in s2 Kageyama also implies that the volleyball club practices EVERY day (by expressing shock that Oikawa has a rest day during the week), so I've decided that Karasuno has a half day on Saturdays, followed by a two hour or so practice.

7. Any teacher will tell you Wikipedia is not a source. Wikipedia is not an academic source because articles are subject to constant change. Despite my bullshit in these footnotes, this is not an academic context.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

[woncon]

[11:08 - 11:09 pm] ♡ sunghoon

gn!reader | fluff | seven minutes in heaven | f2l | mentions of claustrophobia | made with @wonsheep's help <3

‣ enhypen masterlist :: ✉️₍₁₎

a wise philosopher once said that it's not the best idea to lock your friends into a scarce, hazy wardrobe for seven minutes straight.

but you can't exactly kick fate in the ass. while jake waves the chosen names around like victory flags, you get up with a shy smile to move into the tiny place for seven minutes with your best friend.

sunghoon is a great person. sometimes he's a bit lazy and keeps quiet, but he is there whenever he is needed, gives wonderful advice and with his hugs and jokes, you can easily get rid of even the thought of sadness. so you aren't afraid that the two of you will be in heaven for seven minutes. you know that you can confide in him.

your friend gives you a polite hand gesture to encourage you to get in first, then enters right after. jake grasps the doorknob with a huge grin on his face.

"whatever you want to, do it right now! so long, lovebirds" he winks, then closes the door.

you sigh silently. this is the moment you realize how small the wardrobe really is. sunghoon's leaning onto the wall next to your head, and you can feel his body's heat close to you. the hangers fidget slightly near sunghoon as he tries to find a better position.

"ugh, 'm sorry."

you shrug, then realize he can't see it with only a thin stripe of dim light managing to reach inside.

"no worries."

your skin feels hot where his hand touches your shoulder for a moment before hurriedly pulling it away.

you don't get why things turned awkward all of a sudden. yes, sunghoon is usually shy, but not with you. and right now, there is only the two of you in the safety of the wardrobe. it's not like you'd press him up against the wall and shove your tounge down his throat in a second.

the hangers rattle again as sunghoon mumbles softly, and he gets as far away as he is able to, away from you. it feels emptier. you're disappointed.

"how much time do we have left?"

"it's been like ten seconds since we got here. do hate being near me this much? you hid it so well 'til now" you joke with a hint of bitterness. you try to lighten the atmosphere to hide your sadness, which you don't even understand why you feel.

"no, i'm just claustrophobic. a bit."

"sunghoon, what? why didn't you tell me?"

"didn't want to you get here with somebody else."

your heart melts as you move to hold his hand. he doesn't move away this time. you feel somehow satisfied by this.

"can i help you somehow?"

"talk to me."

"uhm, alright. well... now i'm thinking about the pizza we ate earlier. the one with cheese, tomato slices, mushroom, and corn."

absentmindedly, you draw tiny shapes on sunghoon's hand.

"uh-huh. continue."

"and yeah, the pizza was great, but i noticed something strange," you get a little dizzy from the things you want to say. here, in the dark wardrobe a spark lighted up in your brain.

"that there were less tomatoes than usual?"

you could use the tomatoes as an excuse, but you don't. sunghoon's cologne is more than nice and the fact that you're holding his hand makes things even better.

"no, i saw that you had sauce on your lips. i looked at them, and i suddenly noticed that they are really plump," you close your eyes, that way the memory is cleaner in your mind. "i didn't notice it before. i probably didn't pay enough attention. but you have a really pretty mouth. it is truly... kissable."

sunghoon doesn't say or do anything. the silence is heavy and suffocating, mainly because you aren't done yet. in the wardrobe your emotions got into a new light and you need to tell about them to him.

"sunghoon... can i kiss you?" your voice slightly shakes as you whisper the fatal words.

"yes," he breathes out.

you get on your tiptoes carefully as to not collide with the hangers. with your free hand, you gently caress his face, surprised by the fact that his cheeks are so hot. yours are probably flaming up too.

you hesitate for a mere second longer, then you kiss the soft, sweet lips that you craved even when there was sauce smeared over them, but back then you couldn't admit your hunger for them.

sunghoon is uncertain, nervous and a bit dizzy, but careful with you. when he gets more comfortable, he gets the feel of you. he gently grabs your waist, pushes you to the wall as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper and earn better access to your lips. it is as dreamy as you imagined it, even if you unintentionally bite each other's lips a few times.

"sunghoon," you lean back, panting, patting his shoulder. he holds you close to him pressing his forehead against yours. he tries to catch his breath, and you can feel his panting on your cheeks.

"yeah?"

"does this help or should i keep talking?"

"don't say a word" he murmurs, having gained confidence, now he is the one starting your next kiss, but his face and heart are burning up and his trembling knees want him to lean back, forget the kiss and just be in painful silence for the rest of the time, but he doesn't even bat an eye. he attempts to rid himself of the pain by pressing his body to yours and holding your waist more firmly.

wandering onto unfamiliar territory, he dares to poke your lip experimentally with his tongue. you open your mouth wider in surprise with a little moan, and he kisses you deeper. he continues the dangerous game you two started.

sunghoon's chest feels heavy and his lips are numb. a groan erupts from his throat, and he knows that the remaining time won't be enough: he's already addicted to your lips.

[vanfleeter]

Doesn't Stay In Vegas (3) // JTk

Characters: Jake x Cate (oc) Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, angst (I'm sorry). Author's Note: I apologize in advance, my brain took over, but I promise it'll work out very well.

Waking up the next morning, Cate finds herself in an empty bed beside her. She looks over at the clock to see that it’s already past noon. Hearing the bus door open, she listens as she hears Jake’s voice. He spoke in a hushed tone, assuming she was still sleeping.

“Yeah, when we get back to Nashville.. I don’t know.. Now isn’t a good time. I just got done with soundcheck and–” He’s interrupted and sighs. “No, no, just..” He sighs. “Call Mark, he’ll figure it out… Yeah, okay..”

He stops talking before she hears something clatter to the floor. He groans and picks up whatever fell to the floor. Seconds later the door to the back room slides open and he steps inside. He drops when he sees her awake.

“Hey..” He says, giving her a small smile.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah..” He nodded his head. “Everything’s fine..” He bends over to the floor and picks up his belt. “My pants damn near fell down earlier during soundcheck.” He says. “Last thing I need is for them to fall during rehearsal.”

Cate giggles. “Wouldn’t that be a sight..”

He chuckles and slides on the belt through the loops. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“A chance to embarrass you? Of course I would.”

Jake slowly nods his head and leans on the bed, his knee resting in between her legs. He towers over her just slightly and lifts her chin so she’s looking at him.

“I don’t think I should be showing off my dick to everyone. I think that’s considered public indecency.”

Cate’s jaw falls slack just a little, making him laugh. “Are you not wearing underwear?” She says.

He shakes his head. “Had to send my stuff off to be cleaned.”

“Naughty boy.” She says running her hands up the inside of his legs. “So does that mean you’ll be commando on stage tonight?”

“You wish..” He smirks. “I’ll have my stuff back by then.”

He feels her one hand palm through his pants making his body flinch in reaction. She looks up at him and smiles. “How much time do you have until you have to go back out?”

“Ten minutes.. Why?”

“Oh I don’t know..” She shrugs her shoulders and traces the outline of his dick with the tip of her finger. She feels him twitch beneath the fabric of his pants and he looks down at her with fire in his eyes. “You just look so sexy in these pants and the way your shirt is showing off your chest. You dressed all in black really does something to me.”

“Oh?” He bends over and draws her in for a kiss. Without breaking the now heated make out he removes the blanket from her body and exposes her naked self. Thoughts of the night before run through his mind.

Pulling away quickly, he closes the door and undoes the belt that he just put on and pushes his pants down just enough to let his dick spring free. He lays her back on the bed and positions himself between her. Slowly he pushes into her but wastes no time and gets straight to it.

“Maybe I should dress in black more often..” He says. “Only for you..” He thrusts deep inside of her and quickened his pace.

“Jake?” Comes Danny’s voice. “Are you in here?”

Jake pauses his movements and covers her mouth. “Yeah, I’m here!” He calls.

“Alright, well hurry up. Josh is getting impatient.”

“Well tell him to relax. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

He waits to hear the door shut before he slams back into her. “That was close, baby..” He says.

“Shit, Jake..” She moans as she holds tightly to his body. “I’m almost-”

“Come on baby..” He brings his hand down between them and presses his thumb to her clit. Her back arches, her chest pressed against his. “That’s it, Cate.. Meet me there baby..”

They both reach their climaxes and Jake continues thrusting into her until it all fades. Pulling out of her, he grabs one of her shirts from the dresser and cleans them both up.

“I’ll have it washed later..” He says discarding it into the hamper. Pulling his pants back up and securing his belt, he leans back over and plants a kiss on her lips. “I’ll be back later.” —

As the four of them head through the lot towards the venue, they hear a group of fans calling their name. Agreeing amongst themselves they go over to the gates and greet everyone. “Are you all coming to the show tonight?” Sam asks. They all say yes and get excited making them all smile. “Well great, you’re in for a real treat.”

“Oh my god, it’s her!” One of them shouts. She’s pointing at someone behind Jake and he turns around to see Cate coming out from behind the bus. She stops mid stride and is frozen in her spot.

“Cate! Oh my gosh!” Another girl exclaims.

“That’s his wife..” He hears one girl mutter with a giggle.

“We should probably get going.” Danny says. “We’ve got a lot of things to get done before the show tonight.”

Thanking everyone for being there, the four of them depart from the gates and head off through the lot. Jake approaches Cate and wraps his arm around and pulls her close.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were all still out here.” She says.

Jake shakes his head and kisses his forehead. “No, it’s okay.” He says. “Gonna come see us rehearse?”

“If that’s okay?”

He eagerly nods his head. “Of course.” –

“No, Jake! You sound way off!” Josh shouts, growing increasingly frustrated with the way the music is sounding.

“I’m trying here!” Jake retorts. “Damn, I don’t see you yelling at Sam for fumbling on the keys.”

“Hey now, don’t drag me into this.” Sam says as he rests his hands on hips, his bass hanging from the strap around his body and shoulder.

Cate sits in the wings, hidden in the shadows, watching as the boys rehearse–or attempt to rehearse–between the arguing. She’s seen them argue plenty of times over how they sound but this is the first time seeing them argue in rehearsals.

“What is going on with you?” Josh says. “You weren’t like this yesterday for soundcheck.”

“I-I don’t know,” Jake sighs. He pulls his guitar off of his body and sets it on the stand.

“Where are you going?” Josh questions.

“I need air..” Jake says as he walks off the stage.

“Jake!”

Getting up from the seat, Cate makes her way backstage to look for Jake. Eventually she finds him standing outside, one hand resting in the back of his neck and the other one pressed to his chest.

“Jake?” She gently calls. He straightens up as he inhales deeply before turning around to face her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah..” He says, his hands dropping to his sides. “Just stressed..”

“That’s all?”

He nods his head, keeping his eyes trained on the ground beneath his feet. There was a definite shift in his demeanor from last night to this morning to now. She knew better than push him into talking about whatever’s bothering him and just let him talk whenever he’s ready. She reaches for his hand and brings it to her lips for a gentle kiss.

“Do you need a stress reliever?” She asks as she innocently flutters her eyelids at him.

He chuckles and holds tightly to her hand. “Any other time I’d take you over and over again but if I don’t get my ass back inside to rehearse, Josh might just literally kill me.” He leans down and kisses her forehead. “Two more hours, okay?” He says.

“I can’t wait.” She says, smiling up at him.

He smiles back. “Good, then get your ass on that bus and wait.”

“Ah–”

“Bus. Now.”

“But I want to watch–”

“You will see it tonight.” He says. “Now get your ass on that bus and you better be naked by the time I get there.”

“Can I touch myself?”

He shakes his head. “Now be my good girl and go.” He swats her ass as he turns her towards the bus. Watching her walk away, he chews on his lip and shakes his head before turning on his heels and heading back inside the venue. –

After rehearsal, Josh meets Jake inside the dressing room as he changes the strings on his guitar. “So about earlier…” He says as he sits on the couch beside Jake.

Jake shakes his head. “Don’t apologize,” He says. “You had every right to be angry. I wasn’t playing my best..”

“Is everything alright?” He asks.

Jake nods his head. “Just a little stressed–got a lot on my mind right now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake shakes his head. “Not right now.” He says.

Josh nods his head. “Well you know that whenever you’re ready, you can talk to me.” Jake nods his head. He looks up at his brother, tears glossing his eyes. Josh’s face drops and he immediately pulls Jake into his arms.

“I don’t know what to do..” Jake sniffles over Josh’s shoulder.

Josh pulls away from Jake. “What do you mean?”

Jake moves the guitar off his lap and onto the table. “I spoke to our lawyer and the divorce attorney.. They’re mailing the papers..”

“And you’re not happy about it?” Josh says.

Jake shakes his head. He leans back on the couch. “I want to stay with her.”

Josh inhales and leans on his knees. “Does she know?” He shakes his head. “Jake.. You gotta talk to her.”

“But I know what she’ll say.”

“Then maybe it’s best that you two still go through with this divorce.”

“Josh..”

“Jake.. I’m serious. I’ve been serious since this happened.. This marriage isn’t even a marriage, Jake. It’s all about sex.”

Jake shoots him a glare. “It’s not all about sex, Josh.” Jake grabs his guitar and stands up from the couch before storming out of the room to put his guitar away in the gearbox.

“You love her, don’t you?” Josh says as he comes up behind Jake.

Jake rests his hand on the door of the box and his head drops. He gives it a slight nod before closing the box and turning around to face Josh.

“I swore to myself that it meant nothing, that she’s nothing more than a friend but…” He lets out a shaky breath. “Josh, I’m falling for her. And I’m falling for her hard.”

“When did you realize this?” Josh asks.

“Last night, when we went out to get food. We were talking about which of our heroes we would want to meet if we had the chance and the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about Da Vinci and the way she was gentle and kind talking about our music and how it’s art and a love letter signed by us… I just.. I knew then that I’m falling in love and I know that when those stupid papers get signed and the divorce is official, I know that I’ll be losing her for good..”

“Jake, you won’t lose her.” Josh says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “But I was serious when I said you should talk to her. She deserves to know the truth, though the decision is up to you.”

Jake drags his hands down his face wiping away the tears that managed to escape. Josh gives him a sympathetic smile.

“I’m here for you, I always am.” Jake nods his head and Josh pulls him into his arms for a hug. “If it makes you feel better, I’m rooting for you.”

Jake chuckles and pulls away from Josh. “Geez, look at me.. I’m a blubbering mess.”

Josh laughs and pats him on his shoulders. “That’s because you’re actually letting yourself feel your emotions. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but why does it hurt at the same time?”

“Well, Jake, love isn’t perfect. Love can be painful but for the right reasons.” Josh gives him another smile. “Now go to her, even if you don’t tell her tonight, spend what time you have left with her.”

Jake nods his head and sniffles a little. “Yeah, okay.” He wipes his face again, clearing his throat, and straightening out his clothes. “You tell no one about this.”

Josh makes the zipper motion on his lips and throws away an imaginary key. “My lips are sealed. I saw nothing, I heard nothing.”

Coming back to the bus, Jake pulls open the door and steps inside. It was oddly quiet. Did she fall asleep waiting? Walking to the back room, Jake slowly pulls the door open to find her curled up underneath the blankets and lightly snoring. He smiles to himself before slipping off his shoes and stripping down to nothing but his boxers. Crawling onto the bed, he slips beneath the blankets and curls his body into hers. She jolts slightly before turning over to face him.

“You fell asleep..” He softly spoke.

She hums and rubs her eyes. “I guess I did.. I guess that makes me a bad girl, hmm?”

He smiles down at her. “Not tonight.” He says kissing her forehead. He moves down her face and along her jaw, leaving pepper kisses in his wake. “You’ve been so good for me.”

Moving down her neck and chest, he envelopes her breast in his mouth and sucks gently, electing a moan from her lips. “Jake..”

Releasing her breast with a pop, he moves on to the other one as he slips his hand down in between her legs. He dips his fingers inside of her, her moaning rings in his ears sending the blood and vibrations to his core. He pulls off her breast and kisses down her torso as he continues pumping his finger in and out of her.

“Oh fuck, Jake..”

“That feels good, yeah?”

“Yes..” She tugs at his hair when he curls his fingers inside of her. Her walls are already clenching around them. Lowering his face between her legs, he laps his tongue through her folds as he continues working with his fingers. Her moans fill the room as he brings her closer to her orgasm.

Finally she releases, coating his fingers and his tongue. He licks and sucks and sucks and licks. Not missing one drop that comes out of her. Once he gets her all cleaned up, he lays between her legs and lines himself with her entrance. He moans in pleasure as he feels her walls welcoming him in and already warming him up. He encapsulates her in a kiss as he gently thrusts into her. Her mouth falls open against his, her eyebrows knitting together, her teeth digging into her bottom lip.

“I want to take my time with you..” He says into her ear. She nods her head as she clings to him tightly. He does take his time with her. Instead of the fast paced thrusts to get them both to their highs, he takes it one thrust at a time. He wants to relish in it, devour yet savor every second he has with her because what he’s going to do could make or break everything.

“Jake.. Faster..”

He gives her another thrust before picking up his speed just a little.

“That’s it, Jake..”

It wasn’t long before he could feel her clenching around him. He digs in deeper with every new thrust and soon she’s unraveling beneath him. “There you go..” He gently spoke. He soon follows and releases inside of her. “You’re so good to me..” He says as keeps going.

“Jake.. I can’t..”

“Just one more baby. One more please.”

“Shit, Jake..” Her fingers dig into his back and drag down his skin. Her thighs tighten around his waist. Another orgasm rips through her body and they release again together.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He brings her in for a kiss before slowly slipping out of her. He falls onto his back on the bed beside her. “Wow..”

“That was intense..” She moves over to lay her head on his chest. “You made me cum three times and now I’m wiped..”

He chuckles and twirls her hair around his finger.

Noticing how quickly he fell quiet, she pulled away slightly, her eyebrows scrunched together. “Jake..” She sits up and pulls him with her. “Jake, what’s going on in your head?” She lifts his chin again, this time fresh tears fill his eyes. “Hey, woah, Jacob..”

He gently pushes her hand away and moves to the other side of the bed.

“Jacob..” She repeats. “Hey, talk to me.”

“I can’t..”

“You can’t? Or you won’t?”

He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them.

“Jacob, please talk to me..”

“I can’t.. I’m–” He’s cut off when he hears his own shaking voice. “I’m scared..”

“Scared?” She moves closer to him and lays her hands on his. “Why are you scared?”

“Because of what I’m about to tell you,” He takes a shaky breath. “You’ll hate me.”

“Hate you? Why would I-” But she stops. She leans back on her knees. “You didn’t get the papers?”

Jake scoffs. “Of course I got the damn papers.” He snaps. “That’s not it..”

“Then what is it Jake?”

He lets in a deep breath as his legs drop to the bed. “I’m in love with you…”

The room falls silent. A painful silence. One where he knows what she’s going to do and she does just that. Climbing off the bed, she grabs her clothes and pulls them back on.

“Cate, can we please talk about this?” He pleads with her as he moves across the bed towards her. She holds out her hand in front of her to prevent him from coming any closer. “Cate, please..”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen..” She says, looking anywhere but at him. “You’re not supposed to fall in love with me.. I can’t.. I can’t do this..”

He tries to grab her hand but she pulls it away before he could. “Cate..”

“Don’t touch me..” She grabs her shoes and slips them on before retrieving her things and storming out of the room.

He stays there, kneeling on the bed where she left him. He flinches at the sound of the bus door slamming shut behind her and he falls back against his feet as his head dips forward, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks.

—-

“Has anyone seen Jake?!” Josh shouts as he rushes down the hall. “We go in an hour!”

The crew shake their heads and shrug their shoulders. No one’s seen him. Great.

“Did he come back from the bus?” Danny asks. “Maybe he fell asleep.”

Josh grumbles something under his breath before storming off down the hall and out the exit to the buses. Throwing open the door, he rushes to the back room and pulls open the door. He finds him curled up underneath the blankets.

“Jake!” Josh shouts. “What the fuck?! Get up!”

“No..”

“JACOB!” Josh grabs fistfuls of the blankets and tears them off of Jake. “WE HAVE A SHOW TO DO! GET UP!”

“Josh, go away..”

“Jacob, I swear to god, we don’t have time for this!” He grabs hold of his arms and pulls him upright in bed. He pauses when he gets a good look at his face. “Shit… What happened?”

“I told her, that’s what happened.”

“Did she–Fuck, Jake..”

“I did what you told me to do..”

“Oh god..” Josh frantically looks around the room. “Okay.. Here’s what we’re gonna do..” He grabs Jake’s clothes off the floor and starts to get him dressed. “I don’t care how, but you’re gonna shove her out of your mind for the time being, okay? Right now, we have a show that’s about to start an hour and that’s more important at the moment.” He grabs Jake’s sunglasses off the dresser and pushes them onto his face. “You’re gonna play your heart on stage because you have fans waiting to see you.”

Dragging Jake out of the bed and out of the bus, he manages to get him to his dressing room. He gives Danny and Sam a look of ‘Shut the fuck up and help’ as he strips Jake from his clothes again. Once they successfully get him dressed, Jenny comes in and starts quickly putting on his makeup.

“Don’t do anything with his eyes,” Josh says. “He’ll just cry it off.”

Once he’s ready, the three of them usher him down the hall. “Two minutes!” The stage manager calls. One of the crew members hands Jake his guitar and Josh pushes him up the stairs.

“You can do this.” He whispers in his ear. “Just get through tonight.” He gives him a pat on the back before going over to his spot on the stage and grabbing the mic.

It all went by in a blur. Jake didn’t even realize the show was over until he felt Josh grabbing hold of his arm and tugging him off the stage and down the stairs. Time spun around him, everything sounded like he was in a tunnel.

He sits there in the chair staring blankly into the mirror as Jenny cleans his face of the makeup. Josh pulls him from the chair and pulls his jacket off and hands it off to Sam and hangs it up.

“Hey,” Josh snaps his fingers in front of Jake��s face, capturing his attention. “Look at me..” He drags his eyes over to look at Josh. “We’re gonna fix this.”

He hated being treated like a toddler but in this instant, none of that mattered because he admitted his feelings to Cate and she walked out on him.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Her words echo in his mind. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me...”

He rips out of Josh’s grip as he tries buttoning the shirt that he somehow put on while Jake was in his trance.

“Woah, relax.” Josh says.

“Let go of me..” He pushes him away and storms out of the dressing room.

“Jake! Stop!” Josh calls after him.

“Leave me alone Josh!”

“Jake-”

He spins around to face Josh. “I said.. Leave. Me. Alone.” He turns back around and shoves open the exit door and steps out into the muggy, sticky heat of Vegas. Ignoring the fans who have scurried outside to catch a glimpse of the band, he runs for the bus.

Once inside he drops onto the bed and leans forward on his knees. His chest heaves as he fights the urge to scream and punch the nearest wall. Catching a glimpse of the wedding band still wrapped around his finger, he tears it off and chucks it across the room. He hears it bounce off a few things before landing somewhere on the floor.

Stupid.

Stupid.

He never should have listened to Josh.

He should have just kept his mouth shut and just signed the divorce papers and none of this would have happened.

______________________________________________________________

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

tag list: @losfacedevil @lightmylove-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlove @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @thetroublegetssoloud71 @emilykamo @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness (if I missed anyone, I apologize, remind me in the replies)

If you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to reach out! :)

[sea-owl]

Wouldnt it be really cute and funny if the ABC brothers got all these contestants trying to catch their attention except for these 3 ladies who looked like they:d rather get hit by a canon ball than have anything to do with them. And yeah maybe at first the ABC borthers don't take notice as much but little things keep happening that draw them closer to KSP.

Like Anthony, who's the most sought out being the heir, has had his ass kissed since the Selection has begun can't help but feel utterly vexed vexed (and maybe totally slightly turned on) by Kate who calls him out on his pompous bullshit and its refreshing and annoying because isnt she meant to want to win him over???? Kate will also take great joy in taunting Anthony in any way she can just for the lolz (I mean if she's forced to enter this marriage competition, she might as well get some fun out of it right?)

Then we have Ben who met Sophie in an art room or something and the two reluctantly bond over their ahared passion for art and what not or maybe he got sick but refused to let anyone know except Sophie saw right through him and kind hearted that she was, took care of him maybe discreetly like through a disguise because she didnt want Ben to think she was using his sickness to make a move on him.

And maybe one day while Pen was hiding in the library, she saw a journal that she was fascinated by only for Colin to barge in like a raging bull and Pen is having none of it and despite her small size, she was halfway ready to jump on his neck. After a few more talk (and apologizing) the two share their love of writing and Pen gives Colin some constructive feedback and praise (you can not tell me Colin does not have a praise kink) and slowly get to know each other.

King Edmund and Queen Violet seeing this and giving each other side eyes and matching grins because they know what's about to go down lol

Yeah, it's interesting because the way it would probably go is that, at least benophie and polin would more than likely start as friends, and you know that's actually nice to have during the Selection. Kathony vexes each other on purpose, but it's fun and a game to them.

They're pleasant to each other during the interviews, kinda have to be with the whole nation watching, but during their free time KSP are making friends with the other girls and networking.

Then when it comes time for the first round of eliminations a lot of people expect KSP to be among them, including themselves, but they're not? When they latter ask ABC, because ultimately the final say to the eliminations is up to them, the princes say there was no need to send them home yet.

And uh oh, someone caught feelings. ABC start searching out for KSP on their own and when the cameras wouldn't be on. Doesn't help the princess that the girls see through their bullshit.

Kate seems to have a sixth sense for when Anthony is overworking himself. She always seems to find him and drag him off to bed or sits down and starts helping him in areas she knows about, like numbers and the paychecks for the staff. They don't taunt one another and the silence is comfortable. Almost warm.

Benedict got sick after getting caught in the rain one day. He practically threw everyone out of his room. Sophie used to difficult brats thanks to one of her stepsisters marched right in there with a bowl of soup and shoved it down Benedict's throat. He quickly learned the nicer he was the nicer she became.

Penelope accidentally read one of Colin's journals, and he started to freeze her out with his charming mask. Penelope saw right through that she and her family are performers, remember? She snaps right back at him and actually gets him to explode his temper. He's surprised he's relaxed enough around her to let down the mask. They argue for a minute and then, with a few apologies, discuss their shared love of writing. His travel journals and her stories that go along with the dances she preforms.

DEF decided that KSP are their favorites and want them to be their new sisters. So they shove their fiances towards them, telling them to go make new friends. The plan is to hopefully get some jealousy stirred up in ABC so they can get this Selection moving faster.

Kate and Simon click instantly. Simon wins her over because he can give her ammo with embarrassing stories about Anthony from their time in boarding school. Michael and Sophie hit it off. He gives her self-defense lessons, which she is extremely grateful for. Botanist Phillip and wallflower Penelope are immediately lightening up as they talk about their passions. He helps her keep accurate information about plants when she's writing her hobby stories.

[fluffy-ami]

Profile Tag Game🌱

Hello - “Ah, hi there! You can call me Ami, but I actually use a lot of different names when talking to people on the internet. Thanks to @lovelynim for tagging me, this tag game is actually really fun~✨”

Chat: Tickling - “Um, uh... Well, it's a very... strange interest of mine? It has been with me since I was a little kid, and I still have no idea how exactly all of this had started. This little thing is really fun and cute, but the fact that I like it so much is embarrassing as hell for me”.

When It Rains - “I like staying at home when it rains, makes me want to get all cozy in my bed and just do nothing. I also usually get very sleepy, and it may prevent me from studying properly”.

When the Sun Is Out - “Huh. A rare sight at this time of year. I missed it”.

When It Snows - “Snow? I mean, it's cool, yeah. For the first few weeks, at least. After a while your eyes will probably start hurting a little though, because, well, too much white everywhere”.

Good Morning - “Five more minutes...”

Good Night - “Oh hell nah, I'm not going to bed. What do you mean it's 3am? I don't care, I'm still not done with my silly doodles, now go back to sleep, buddy”.

Chat: Sensitivity - “Hm? Am I ti-? Ahem. Well, not really. In reality, I'm not sure. But what I do know for sure is that I'm not that sensitive in some of those 'most popular' spots, perhaps certain techniques are required to get me to crack. No-one had ever gotten to try though, my irl buddies value their lives over trying to get a reaction out of me~”

My Hobbies - “Writing, reading, crocheting and sewing toys, cross stitching, making pins and silly jewelry, gaming, journaling, making ocs and, most importantly, drawing - these are the things I enjoy doing in my free time (when I'm not procrastinating, of course)”.

About Me: Cooking - “Heh, no. Just... no.”

My Troubles - “Ehhh... Touch starvation? Or just overall loneliness? Maybe I should call it that. I feel constantly burnt out from talking to people, but at the same time I want to connect, and don't know how to do it. And sometimes it feels like people remember about my existence only when they need something from me. It's complicated, really. I feel emotionally isolated, but I also know that it's basically my fault, so I just kinda got used to this feeling. I'm sure I can do better though”.

Favourite Food - “Hmm, let me think... I like seafood. And salty things. Not too salty, though”.

Least Favourite Food - “I'm not a picky eater. Me liking or not really liking food depends on me liking or not liking its texture mostly. But I think I don't like things that are overly sweet”.

About @anzynai - “Ahhh, thinking about her brings me back. Jai was the person who gave me motivation (and courage) to post my very first drabble, and to just start writing in general ever since. And I'm still very grateful for that ★”

About @nataliewritez - “My little sis! I adore her writing and her art. She's a very friendly and funny person, also really pretty! Even annoying her can be kind of fun <3. Nat is just nice to be around, you know?”

About @stopiteatpopcorn - “Rando? He's a good kid! He's very adorable and energetic, it's a big part of his charm. And I'm proud to have such a talented lil' bro like him (he's also very easy to tease, you should try it sometime)”.

Tagging: Anyone who hasn't been tagged and wants to join in!~🌱✨

[starlitangels]

Headstone

Pups AU. It’s been a bit. This one also draws heavily from my “Not-Yet Alpha, Not-Yet Mate” short story featuring David’s parents. Enjoy! 1.6k words

CW: discussion of previous canon character death

—

David had been silent for the last few minutes of the drive. The moment we’d crossed into the cemetery, he’d stopped talking completely. He claimed it was because Dahlia’s cemetery was big and complicated—which was undoubtedly true—but I knew it was because this place made complicated feelings rise up.

We got to the narrow road closest to our destination and David did his best to park on the edge of it. This time of day it was mostly empty anyway, but these roads weren’t made for cars.

“Daddy, where are we?” Natalie asked, craning her neck to try to see out the window, but her carseat wasn’t quite tall enough.

“We’re at the cemetery,” David replied, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door.

“Why?”

Yup. She was in that phase.

To be fair, she’d been in the why phase since she was about fifteen months old. Or so it felt. She wanted to learn. David and I didn’t fault her for that, but sometimes the endless stream of questions was mildly exhausting. I always told Davey he was better at being patient with her than I was, and he always said it was because he had plenty of practice with Asher and Milo growing up.

He opened the backseat door behind his and started to help her out of her carseat.

“Because there’s something I wanna show you here,” he answered.

“Okay,” Gabriel said as Natalie opened her mouth again. Probably to ask why again.

I got out and helped Gabriel out of his booster seat. He wrapped his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist once he was free. He was plenty big enough to walk on his own, but the kid never turned down even an extra opportunity for cuddles.

Natty clung to her dad’s neck too. David always said the kids got their “touchstarved need for cuddles” from me. Our children were very much not touchstarved in any way, shape, or form considering how much cuddling they already got—from me and the rest of the pack in general—but that was the joke he liked to make.

Davey and I carried our kids carefully through the maze of headstones. Gabriel narrowed his eyes at a few of the ones we passed, and I could hear him sounding out last names under his breath, trying to read each one. Natalie—who had inherited my tendency to be loud—half-shouted for all of Dahlia to hear her asking why there were “weird marks” on one of the headstones. After David’s patient explanation that it was written in what appeared to be Arabic and different languages had different writing systems, she seemed to understand.

Ducking under the somewhat-unkempt branches of a spruce tree, Davey set Natalie down. I put Gabriel on his feet just behind her.

Hidden under the drooping branches of the tree was a single headstone. “Shaw” was written in large capital letters at the top in the middle. Directly underneath, “Married April 3, 1991,” was carved into the dark grey stone. In a box of lighter-colored granite on the left was “Gabriel Richard—December 18, 1966-September 3, 2017.” The box on the right said, “Annalise Jean ‘AJ’ Hendrickson—November 14, 1967-July 1, 1997.”

Below both names was the simple phrase, “We’ll see.”

“Is this… Grandma and Grandpa Shaw?” Gabriel asked, looking up at David while wrapping his hand around as many of my fingers as he could. David crouched and nodded.

“Yeah. This is where my parents were buried,” he said. “That’s Grandpa Gabe, and Grandma AJ.” He pointed to each name. “Grandma AJ got sick when I was younger than Natty and she passed away when I was about three. Grandpa Gabe got in a car accident when I was in my mid-twenties.”

“Gramma has the same middle name as me!” Natalie announced.

“Mmhmm,” David agreed. “We gave you her middle name to honor her memory.”

Natalie blinked owlishly at him, but for once didn’t ask any questions about what he meant. “Why does it say, ‘We’ll see’?” she asked instead, kneeling in front of the headstone and tracing the letters with her tiny five-year-old fingertip.

Her kindergarten teacher had been very impressed at how well she’d already been reading back when school started. I’d been quick to give David the credit, given he’d read to her almost every night since she was born, and often taught her how to read, if just a little bit, himself. Because she wanted to learn. And she’d inherited his stubbornness and wouldn’t let him leave until he’d taught her a little bit.

David sat cross-legged in the mostly-dead, patchy grass that couldn’t get enough sunlight around the spruce tree’s needles. “Because that was what my parents always said to each other. One of them would make a guess about their future together, and the other would always say, ‘We’ll see.’ Grandpa Gabe told me they were the last words Grandma AJ said to him before she passed. He said he hoped she’d be waiting for him on the other side and she said she was ‘planning on it, but we’ll see.’ So, when she passed, Grandpa Gabe put that on the headstone.”

David blinked tears out of his eyes—and didn’t protest when Natalie stood up so she was eye-level with him and wiped them off his face. He gathered her to his chest and held her there, squeezing tight, but not too tight. She made a strained little groan, but didn’t squirm or yelp for release like she would have if he was hugging too hard.

“Grandpa picked this plot under the tree because he said he and Grandma loved sitting under the tree in the backyard of their house and watching me, Uncle Ash, and Uncle Milo chase each other around when we were toddlers.”

Gabriel stepped carefully closer to the headstone and brushed a few loose spruce needles off the top of it. “You miss them.” It wasn’t a question.

Davey gave our son a sad smile. “I never really knew Grandma AJ. It was hard to miss her. But I miss Grandpa Gabe very much. He taught me everything I know about being a dad. And all I’ve ever been able to hope for was that he taught me enough that I can keep being a good dad to you and your sister.” He kissed the top of Natalie’s head, right on the part between her pigtails.

“You’re the best, Daddy,” Natty said confidently, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on as tight as she could. David sighed with a quiet relief and gave her another hug.

“Glad you think so, baby girl,” he whispered.

Gabriel let go of my hand and carefully approached the headstone, sitting down in front of it and looking it over. He carefully traced the carved letters with his own fingertip, head tilted slightly to the side. He twisted and looked back at me. “You never got to meet even Grampa, right?”

I shook my head. “No. He passed before I met your dad,” I replied.

Gabriel frowned and his eyebrows tilted in sadness. He had more empathy in his little finger than a lot of adults did in their whole bodies. “Sorry,” he said to David. And me.

David ruffled Gabriel’s hair. “It’s okay. If I hadn’t met my mate when I did, I don’t know that we would have ended up here—with you two.” He met my eyes. “They helped me heal from my grief and the walls I put up to protect my heart that were only hurting it more.”

Natalie leaned back from where she’d been hugging David to meet his eyes. “How did you carry the walls with you all the time?”

I couldn’t help it—I burst out laughing. David chuckled too. “Not real walls, Natty,” he said. “Figurative walls.”

“Figura… what?”

David thought for a moment. “Pretend walls. In my head. They made me grumpy all the time.”

Natalie stuck out her bottom lip. “Don’t be grumpy, Daddy. Being grumpy is no fun.”

David chuckled again and met my eyes over our daughter’s head. “Gee, I wonder who she sounds like,” he said.

I smiled. “I’m so proud,” I replied.

David tugged lightly on the end of one of her pigtails. “How about you and your brother sit here and be good, and I’ll go with my mate to grab our lunch out of the car?”

Natalie nodded. Gabriel did too when David met his eyes.

He stood and held a hand out to me. I took it and we headed back for the car to grab the cooler.

—

Natalie glanced over at the tree trunk, smiling as a familiar head of pink curls quickly ducked behind the trunk out of her view. “I know you’re there!” she whispered—loud. Gabriel was reading the headstone again, intently, and didn’t notice.

Caelum poked his head out from behind the trunk again and pressed a finger to his lips. He grinned and giggled. Natalie copied his gesture, nodded, and giggled herself.

“What are you doing here?” Her whisper was quieter this time.

Caelum snuck out from behind the tree. “Making sure you and your family are happy,” he whispered back.

He popped a kiss on the top of Natalie’s head, the way her dad had done, and disappeared as he took a step back.

[duhragonball]

Yeah, Evangelion isn't really a show about the action. I'd say an accurate summary of it is "what if you had to pilot robots against monsters, but all the characters have mental illness?" It's got some neat action for sure, but that's not the focus of the narrative at all, really.

And that's fine. I didn't go into this expecting a lot of action! If this show is Shinji getting therapy then bring it on, but that's not what's happening. He's just laying there like a pile of mashed potatoes, and everyone remarks on how mashed-potato-like he is! For three episodes!

The action scenes are basically all I've got for amusement, but they aren't enough to carry the show because they were never meant to. But what is carrying the show? You can't just write "He's mentally ill" on a 3-by-5 card and put it on the screen for fifteen minutes and call it a story.

Let me use an example of what I'm talking about. There's an episode of M*A*S*H called "Hawk's Nightmares", where Hawkeye starts sleepwalking through the camp, and when other characters find him he acts like a kid, playing marbles and basketball and talking to them like his childhood friends. Then when he finally goes back to bed he wakes up screaming because he saw his childhood friends dying horribly.

About halfway into the episode Colonel Potter calls a psychologist, Sidney Freeman, to get to the bottom of this, and Hawkeye talks it out with him. Ultimately his nightmares are a symptom of the larger trauma of the Korean War, so there's no easy fix, but at least Hawkeye understands what's happening to him, which gives him some reassurance. Sidney tells him he's not losing his mind. "If you were crazy, you'd sleep like a baby."

This is a single half-hour episode of television. Is it a thorough examination of mental health problems? No, of course not. Sidney makes several more appearances on the show, often for Hawkeye specifically, which kind of makes you realize that maybe Hawk isn't the "sanest person [Sidney has] ever known". The psychological analysis may not have aged well, since it's a 50-year-old TV show about a 70-year-old war.

But it's effective as a story because it introduces a problem and immediately draws in the viewer. You can't not notice Hawkeye playing hopscotch in the middle of the night. It's impossible for the other characters to ignore him when he tries to place a phone call in the middle of the night to his childhood friends to make sure they didn't explode like they did in his dreams. And the other characters do something about it. When they can't help him on their own, they call in an expert. They have to. He's their friend, and they need him in the O.R. to save wounded soldiers.

I think Evangelion is following a similar arc, but-- good night!-- it sure isn't in much of a hurry. And if Shinji were shooting free-throws in his sleep, that would be at least kind of amusing to watch while we wait, but he's not. He's practically catatonic. If there was another character to focus on instead, that would be something, but all we have is Rei, who seems to be even worse off than he is.

What kills me is that they're going to get into this eventually. They have to. There's no other choice. So why don't we just do that instead of marking time? I'm an hour into this show, and I feel like I'm watching an unskippable ad for Kroger while I'm waiting for a YouTube video to start.

[catgrassplantdad]

thanks for kicking off another tag game tuesday @celestialmickey !! also tagged by @mishervellous @energievie @gardenerian and @ardent-fox !! thank you, friends!

name: jessie 🎃

age: 33

what country do you live in? the united states 🙄

how many blogs do you have? 3

how many blogs do you follow? 281. i try to go through and unfollow blogs that have been inactive for a long time, especially spn blogs, but i haven't checked in a minute.

are you a hugger? yeah, i love hugging my people. i'm a really physically affectionate person when it comes to my friends.

summer or winter? summer ☀️

coffee, tea, soda, or something else? coffee ☕🤎

something about you that might surprise people: i used to draw. like, constantly. i haven't in years. i don't think i've ever mentioned that here before.

if you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would it be? i'd get work done on my half sleeve situation. i've been giving the artist free reign, with some suggestions from me.

would you consider yourself a private person or an open book? i think i'm pretty private about some stuff, but with some people i can't shut the fuck up and i overshare.

do you believe in soulmates? i like what mel said about this, that the choices we make lead us to the right people. i'm really happy about the choices i've made 💜

would you consider yourself an introvert or an extrovert? i believe i am an ambivert who leans introvert.

tell me something good that happened to you recently: i just got an email saying my wedding dress is now a few stops away from my house and should be delivered in a few minutes 👀

and finally, say something nice to yourself: despite what your brain may tell you sometimes, you're not annoying and you're a very sweet person who your friends enjoy being around.

tagging @howlinchickhowl @gallawitchxx @heymrspatel @whatthebodygraspsnot @you-are-so-much-better-than-that @whatwouldmickeydo @iansfreckles @thisdivorce @squidyyy23 @sleepyfacetoughguy @crossmydna @lalazeewrites @suzy-queued if you guys are up for it 🖤

[draco-hatake]

Fake JJK tweet near the end if you want to skip the rant.

So I haven't been able to get any drawings done because I recently got 8 of my teeth ripped out of my skull and I have been sleeping off the pain as much as I can. Did you know that you can be in so much physical pain that it turns into the burning rage of 1000 blazing suns at the slightest inconvenience? Because I didn't. 😃 My mother took me to the dentist and it was nearly a 2 hour trip back because traffic was so bad and we had to pick up the cat from the vet on the way. By the time we got home the stuff they inject in your mouth to numb everything had mostly worn off and I was in so much pain and so mad that my dad wasn't already back from the pharmacy with the pain medication(the pharmacy is literally 10 minutes away by car) that I was ready to commit a felony. I didn’t even say hello when he came back, just snatched the medication from him.

I expected there to only be one bottle but no, there were 3 and I was so mad that it was taking extra time to figure out which one I needed to take that if my family owned a gun I probably would have shot myself in the head for the pain to stop. So needless to say, I was absolutely miserable. Thankfully I was able to sleep until the pain medicine kicked in and I was a lot more civil once I woke up.

Anyway, I made another fake tweet because I was bored and wanted to make something but until I don’t need to do 8 salt rinses a day I can't actually go to the library to work on any drawings. This is another tweet from my Blue Eyes and Gold Wings fic that happens in the future once the series is over.

Yeah, she doesn't like doctors and for a very good reason. You can learn that reason by reading the fic. Also, Gojo, Yuuji, and Megumi will live in this fic because I don't like the idea of them dying. Their Canon fate doesn't matter in this fic. Anyways, I will link the fic below. Feel free to let me know what you think of my art or any of my fics. Constructive criticism is encouraged and I will see you guys next time!