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#continuation of the last pastel drawing
cinnabargirl · 1 year
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I haven't done a proper drawing in almost 9 years now that I think about it
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fushigurro · 7 months
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can i request pussydrunk virgin!yuji 🫣 ik that your first time w him is so soft
⋆ 「 𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝. 」 ⋆
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pairing. — yuuji itadori x afab!reader
word count. — 1.3k
content. — nsfw (18+ only, mdni), established relationship, virgin!yuuji / virginity loss, no pronouns for reader, unprotected piv sex, creampie, a smidge of yuuji w/ a praise kink, i think that's it!!
notes. — absolutely!!! tysm for sending this in. i've been slowly chipping away at it over the last few days lol, and i hope i managed to do yuuji a little bit of justice in my first piece for him! gotta start somewhere, am i right? (dividers by @/cafekitsune)
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It starts with a relatively chaste kiss on the couch in the middle of a movie (Human Earthworm 2, to be exact), but it isn’t long before a small peck snowballs into hungry, open-mouthed kisses that leave the two of you gasping for air in between. Yuuji’s cheeks match the color of his hair and he’s already straining in his pants, dripping with youthful desperation. He’s thought about this moment an alarming number of times while lying alone in bed at night, anticipating the day it might truly happen. He would dream up an explicit scenario and stroke himself to sleep, desire overriding the shame of imagining your heat taking every last inch of him for the first time, and now, it seems like it may finally be a possibility.
 Yuuji usually does his best to be a gentleman, but the lustful way your tongue occupies his mouth has him moaning and gripping at your thigh for dear life, tightly pressing against you and wishing he could practically crawl into your skin just to feel you closer. He doesn’t want to be sitting beside you anymore—he wants to be on top of you, underneath you, inside you more than he can properly articulate.
You can’t help but notice the way he feverishly squirms, and you’re beginning to feel quite impatient yourself. “Are you okay with this, Yuuji?” you ask, not wanting to push him in a direction that he isn’t prepared to go in.
He nods eagerly, itching to reattach himself to your lips. “Yeah… yeah, ‘m definitely okay with this,” Yuuji responds hastily, breathlessly.
You pet at his pastel locks and look him in the eye, your voice soft yet serious. “Do you wanna go into my bedroom?”
His golden eyes widen as he gulps, but then he’s silently nodding and letting you lead him to the bed.
Your lips are on his as soon as he sits on the mattress, and you do him the favor of removing your shirt so that he can ogle your breasts as though they’re the most interesting things he’s ever seen (because they are). You don’t have to ask twice for him to peel his own shirt off because he’s practically jumping for joy at the opportunity to do so, longing to feel your chest press against his with nothing in between.
You admire the toned structure of his body, fingertips dipping along his abs while a strong hand of his own comes up to palm at your breast. He marvels at the feeling, a boyish glee pulsing through his veins as he fondles you uninhibited. It’s so sincere that you simply can’t take issue with it; in fact, it only serves to arouse you that much more.
“You feel amazing,” Yuuji says as his hands continue to roam your body, soaking in the texture of your skin through his fingertips. He even dares to tweak a nipple, oh so eager to draw every possible reaction from your body despite his lack of experience.
You chuckle at the awe in his voice and body language. “I know what would feel even more amazing.”
It isn’t long before you have him stripped bare with his pretty head on the pillow, gazing up at you as you promptly straddle his waist. You’re like an ethereal being to him, and his hands instinctively move to rest upon your hips, ever eager to latch onto the mesmerizing warmth of your bare skin. What’s even more mesmerizing is the warmth of your cunt as it shifts closer to his throbbing length, hovering over it with the promise of complete and utter euphoria.
You lean forward to kiss him once more before asking, “Are you ready?”
Yuuji nods and grips your hips a little tighter, his heart racing in his chest as you breathe against him. “Yeah.”
Reaching a hand down between your bodies, you gently take hold of his cock and slide the tip of it between your folds, earning a shiver from him as it’s coated with slick and settling just at your entrance. His eyes never leave yours throughout, but they’re already starting to go glassy from the sensation of your dripping arousal against him.
Without further ado, you finally let him breach you, sinking down onto his girth little by little until you’re finally seated and being stretched completely from the inside. Yuuji lets out a moan at the feeling of you surrounding him so tightly, the pleasure unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He needs more.
“Fuuuuck,” he curses breathlessly, already in a borderline hypnotized state.
You rise up and start to bounce your hips after a moment of adjustment, breath hitching as he fills you over and over and looks at you with a gratefulness that sears itself into your memory. You place a hand on his chest and feel his thudding heart within while his cock prods deeper into you than you thought possible.
“Fuck, Yuuji,” you say with a furrowed brow, sweat already working its way to the surface of your skin as you increase the pace of your hips. Meanwhile, Yuuji already looks properly fucked out, eyelids heavy and jaw slacked with bliss. If you focus on anything other than the feeling of him stretching you out, you’d notice that his fingers are practically bruising the skin on your hips.
His eyes move down from your face to watch your tits bounce with every motion, and this stokes the fire in his belly to burn hotter than he could ever imagine. Almost mindlessly, Yuuji’s hips suddenly begin to work up against yours in a desperate rhythm, chasing after something that he can hardly even comprehend at this point. His mind feels hazy—empty, even, save for the all-consuming desire to be as deep in you as possible, filling you completely and tasting everything that you have to offer.
The volume of both your moans rises each time your bodies meet, and he feels so incredible with every stroke that you’re compelled to let him know. “Feels s’good, Yuuji. You’re so good.”
He gives a loud groan at that, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head as your praise takes hold of him. Your efforts are hardly required anymore, hips no longer needing to drop down onto his as he takes the notion to slam up into you instead, drunk determination in his beautiful eyes and a trickle of drool shamelessly sliding from the corner of his mouth.
“Gonna cum,” he warns, no longer able to hold himself back but completely incapable of stopping either.
“Go ahead,” you tell him without a second thought, “cum for me.”
“I-inside?” he asks in his final moments of self-control.
You circle a finger around your clit and clench around him with a hasty nod. “Mhm. Inside.”
You don’t have to tell him twice. Yuuji holds his breath as his cock starts pulsing inside you, then he lets out a series of appreciative moans, head spinning with the intensity of his orgasm. You continue furiously stroking your clit, using your last bit of strength to roll your hips as he fills you up and starts to go limp, until you’re finally overcome with the blinding pleasure of your own high. It wracks you and takes you down to rest on his chest as he heaves for air and your body trembles against him.
Yuuji’s hands move to hold the small of your back, and you peer up at his dopey face with an interesting look of your own.
“I think that was the greatest moment of my entire life,” he manages to say, and you break out into a small fit of laughter.
“Well, I’m glad enjoyed yourself.” You bring a hand up to wipe away the drool and sweat from his face.
“Did you?” He asks, genuinely curious with a hopeful glint in his eyes.
“Oh yeah,” you reply, grinning with a flavor of mischief. “Absolutely.”
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or0ch1maru · 2 months
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akatsukis kinks and turn offs?
18+, full blown smut, kinks, and more smut
Omg omg omg, I had wayyyy too much fun writing these. Also! If anyone wants a one shot of a specific character with the kinks I’ve listed, pleaseeeeee let me know and I’d be more than happy to write it, especially for Tobi, Hidan, or Zetsu🫶🏻
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I feel like Hidan has done everything at least once, and if there’s something he hasn’t done, he’s more than willing to try. This man is KINKY. I imagine his favorites are period play(or anything involving blood), s&m, fucking outside with the thrill of getting caught, knife play, and threesomes. I believe his turn off’s would be the “I don’t use safe words” thing. Hidan is intense when it comes to sex, and he won’t do it with just anybody either. He must have a safe word for his sessions and if you refuse to use one, just know you won’t be getting in his pants.
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Kakuzu is similar to Hidan, has done everything at least once and isn’t close minded about trying new things. I know for a fact his tendrils would definitely come into play, whether it’s him tying you up, or toying with your clit. He’s definitely partnered up with Hidan for three ways, and just like him, also requires a safe word. I imagine Kakuzu enjoying a daddy kink as well, would lose his composure the second the word slips from your lips four orgasms in. Big into brat taming, but when it comes to turn off’s, just like with Hidan, if you have the no safe word mindset, he won’t be down.
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I’ve mentioned this before but I truly believe Konan is into Shibari. Has a whole collection of ropes, of all different colors too. Mostly pastels; pinks, blue’s, and purple’s. I see her as being a passionate lover, with intense sessions time to time. Loves bringing toys into the bedroom, and her favorite to use on you would be her Hitachi. I can imagine Konan being into impact play as well, using only her hand or her paddle, likes seeing little pink marks on your ass or thighs. Would primarily be the top with you and unless she has stated it otherwise, WILL NOT be down to be topped. She needs absolute trust in her partner before allowing them access to her that way. If you try to top her during sex, it’ll turn her off.
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Sessions with Pain can last relatively long, only because he loves to draw it out. Mixing pleasure with pain, but it’s never done to hurt you, wants you to experience pleasure in all aspects. I believe he’s into piercing play, also known as recreational acupuncture, or needle play. Aftercare is a very important thing to Pain, especially with the minor wounds that were inflicted during your session. I think his only turn off would be if you thought aftercare was stupid or unnecessary. Especially the times when he requires aftercare too.
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Our sweet explosive loving babe. I feel like Deidara hasn’t experimented much with kinks, and the few he has tried, he wasn’t crazy about. How some people are into riding their partners fingers, you’d be riding his hand. Could cum just from watching you ride the appendage that sits between the lips on his palm. As stated in the show, Deidara isn’t into s&m. I feel like he tried it once but the thought of inflicting pain on his partner was too much for him and visa versa. Even though he loves bombs and explosions, I feel like he’s more of a gentle partner.
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I can see Sasori absolutely loving when his partner sits on his face. Is the type to get upset if you don’t sit your entire body weight down on him, would grab hold of your thighs, pulling you down onto him and holding you there. Loves looking up and seeing your eyes rolled back, tears streaming down your face as you continuously cum on his tongue. Bonus points if you end up squirting. Apart from that, I can imagine him using his chakra threads on you, whether it’s holding you still when you start to squirm, or when you start faltering when riding his cock, his threads would help keep you balanced. I don’t think he’s be into food play. Since Sasori doesn’t need to eat like others do, he sees no use for it, in or outside of the bedroom.
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Breeding kink, I repeat, BREEDING KINK. With Uchiha’s, they form deep bonds, and love the hardest. So naturally, that would be reflected during sex. Itachi loves filling you up, and then watching as you go about your business throughout the compound full of him. I think he also enjoys when you ride his thighs. If he’s busy working on something at his desk, best believe one hand will be holding your lower back, helping you keep your rhythm. I personally think Itachi’s turn off would be Dacryphilia. Only because he doesn’t like seeing you cry. He strives for his partner’s happiness.
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Just like Hidan, I feel like Kisa enjoys period sex. Has a container under his bed full of towels specifically for that time of the month. Apart from that, I imagine he likes choking, Dacryphilia, and rough sex in general. Loves seeing the scratches you leave on his back or the bite marks left on him. When he has you in doggy or bent over any hard surface, best believe his large hand will have a fistful of your hair. Now for turn offs, I don’t think he’d do anything risky where he could get caught. Just like a lot of his comrades, he’s protective over his partner and doesn’t want anyone seeing what’s his. Especially in such a vulnerable state.
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Now, you can get either Tobi, or Obito, it truly depends on his mood, or situation. Our sweet gentle Tobi loves seeing his partner in cute little outfits, especially a maid outfit. I see Tobi as more of a sub honestly and if he acts out, and you want to punish him for it, his all time favorite is edging. If you happen to act like a brat, just know Obito won’t hesitate to grip you by the hair and walk you back to your shared room. Rough sex, double penetration, and surprisingly exhibitionism. As long as others don’t see his face/scarring, he will fuck you senseless in front of others/doesn’t care if someone walks in during. Will even hold a conversation with said person while he fucks you. Even when alone, loves fingering you with his gloves on. Tobi wouldn’t want to see you cry, just like Itachi, he doesn’t like seeing his partner upset. With Obito, I don’t think he’d like sensory deprivation. Doesn’t enjoy having any of his senses taken away, wants to be able to hear, and see every reaction he pulls from you.
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Just like Tobi, you can get either Black or white Zetsu. All depends on their mood & said situation. White Zetsu loves nothing more than praising you, especially when his cock is buried deep in your throat, with tears threatening to fall, black Zetsu is all for degrading you. Will mush your face into a wall, a desk, the mattress, and take you from behind, whispering dirty words as you take him fully. I also fully believe Zetsu is into having sex outside, and orgasm control/denial. Enjoys hearing you beg to cum, bucking your hips into him or the toy just to get yourself off when you can’t take it. As well as quickie’s. Won’t hesitate to pull you into a bathroom and fuck you silly before walking about like he didn’t do anything. I think his only turn off would be being bitten. For some reason I imagine Zetsu being really sensitive and doesn’t like the blunt pain one can inflict by digging their teeth into him.
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It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Taurus the magic space cow fairy! This video is about 90% zodiac series, and 10% continuation of a different enchanterium video, Tzula the space cow.
The two extra prompts for this video became THREE, because the mini claw machine Barb and Alex were using to draw slips accidentally gave Alex two. So we’ve got laser, fairy, and pastel. And one terrifying inspiring chant of blueberries later, they’re off!
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“She’s going to be a cute girl with some cow features, so the ears have to go.” *cuts them off*
“Last time we made a cow doll she was flat like most of the monster high girls. So to make something different, we’re using the cows have big badonkas trope.”
“But this is not a regular cow remember? She’s genetically modified by the space grass. So her marks are going to be pastel✨.”
Barb, singing about her new vinyl heat press: “It’s amazing, it’s amazing, definitely not regretting buying it anymore, because it works!”
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Is she not just the cutest little cow fairy you ever did see? Taurus and Tzula look great together, and also she has some of my favorite wings to date! And the blueberry hair pins were an adorable addition!
If you enjoy the video, consider subscribing to the enchanterium YouTube channel! 💚💙💖
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mothdruid · 6 months
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I Wish You Would
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pairing. Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x afab!reader
word count. 3.3k
warnings. ANGST!!
author's note. this is for @laracrofted 1989 writing challenge. my song was I Wish You Would. and a special thanks goes out to @withahappyrefrain, @bobfloydsbabe, and @rae-gar-targaryen for letting me use your OC's as the bride and wedding dates for the daggers in this fic. well, here is some angsty angst for you all. also, the venue i'm writing about is a real place called The Farmhouse Siloam, and this is the dress I wrote the reader in.
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The invitation had arrived earlier that year. It didn’t shock you that Jake was actually getting married, but having something tangible telling you was a little odd. Danica and Jake started off on an interesting foot. The way Jake had talked about her in secret wouldn’t have made it obvious, but once you all met Danica everything about the relationship made sense. She was the exact kind of woman that drove Jake crazy, in a good way. That’s one thing you and Bradley had always agreed on. That Hangman would hang the stars for his Venus, something you found out Bradley would have trouble doing for you.
The relationship hadn’t been terrible, honestly, it was the best relationship you had ever had. One that you thought about regularly, even though you continually told everyone you were over it. So, when Jake and Danica gave you the heads up that they were also inviting Bradley, you gave them questioning looks. Why would that even matter? It was their wedding anyways, they could invite whoever they wanted. It’s not like that final not was still something you thought about daily. But how would they had known that? They couldn’t have when you always told them the opposite.
Neither of you were bad people, but that night would have told anyone the opposite. Both of your words were laced with venom, neither one of you knowing how to convey your thoughts properly. It wasn’t like either of you, but things had gotten out of hand quick. One thing lead to another, escalating past the point of control.
An uneven breath passed your lips while you looked in the mirror. The dress you had picked was something simple. A two strap summery dress with a bustier built in. It was covered in a muted pastel floral print. Cielo and Abby had helped you pick it out. You bought it with the thought of being able to wear it again, and not to draw the attention of anyone specific.
Even though you and Bradley ended on poor terms, you still yearned for him. Almost two years later and you still wished for something. But you weren’t just hoping and wishing for him to reach out to you, you were also wishing you could have changed things. Wished you would have never hung up on him. Wished that maybe you wouldn’t have said the things you did. Wished that you would have swallowed your pride and reached out. Too many wishes, but it was all in the past and you couldn’t change it now.
All you could do now was face the day. Face the fact that you would be seeing him again. Face the emotions that were going to resurface.
You did a small twirl, calming your nerves in the process. If anything you could hide with Mickey, Cielo, Abby, Bob, and Reuben if things became too much. Or at least just Cielo and Abby. No matter what, you would survive. Ignoring the sensation tightening in your chest, you moved to the bathroom to finish your makeup.
-
Bradley stared at himself in the dressing room mirror, ignoring all of those who were fluttering around him. He had known about this day for a long time. Hell, he knew when Jake decided he was going to propose. Jake had immediately sent him and Javy a picture of the ring. Eager. That was all Bradley had thought about it. Bradley had a slightly pessimistic view on love now.
After his last relationship, he took a break from love. It was too painful, the only thing in the world that could hurt everyone. Even those whose walls were so high, heart so guarded. Those like Bradley.
Love had been the most damaging thing in Bradley’s life. The love for his father? Heart breaking. The love for his mother? Life altering. The love he had once felt for Maverick? Trust breaking. The love he had for you? World crumbling. It wasn’t worth it anymore in his mind. He had tried it multiple times, each time ending in pain.
The pain he had felt with you had been different though. It was a shared one, a pain he could tell that you were also experiencing. It wasn’t like when his dad just never returned home, or when his mom took her final breath in the hospital, or when Mav set him back. All of that had been one sided, him being the only one being hurt. But when he saw the tears roll down your cheeks, the way your chest heaved with each breath. That finally click he heard when you hung up. The ache in his chest as he stared at the phone, deciding not to call you back.
Yeah, you had been the one to hang up, but Bradley had been the one who did nothing. He didn’t do anything in that moment except let you slip through his fingers, like sand in an hour glass. He regretted it to this day. Knowing he should have at least reached out but didn’t. It was one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He finally popped his collar up then ran the tie for his suit around it.
He hadn’t been this dressed up, outside of his Navy regalia, in a long time. The last time he remembered was for your cousins wedding. A smile drifted to his lips, but only a small one, as he recalled the way you had tied his tie for him. Your face was so calm and focused, threading the material through the knot and tightening it up for him. His own hands followed the same pattern that yours once did. He was never able to capture it completely, but he always preferred how you had tied his ties.
“Crazy, huh?” Javy said while grabbing Bradley’s shoulder and pulling him close.
“That’s one word for it,” Bradley let out a little chuckle.
The two of them sat there for a moment, silence over taking them. Javy's bright smile faded a little when he met Bradley’s gaze in the mirror. Javy wasn’t oblivious to what today meant for Bradley, Jake neither. Jake had told Bradley immediately when Danica sent out invitations. Bradley was happy you would be there, seeing the union of two amazing friends. But he couldn’t ignore the anxiety festering in his chest.
“If you need anything, just ask man.”
“Thanks.”
-
Throughout the entire ceremony you had fought the urge to throw up. Which now lead to you in the bathroom, waiting for your nausea to calm down. It was the worst symptom of anxiety you got, that and the tightness in your chest. You didn’t think that seeing Bradley would do this to you. You had been preparing and hyping yourself up all morning, only for him to crack it all with one look. A look he didn’t even return.
You moved to the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror. That’s when you noticed something that you didn’t catch prior. Well, you had ‘caught’ it, but didn’t realize the full extent of your choice in lipstick. It was Bradley’s favorite shade. It was a soft neutral, one you wore cause it went with everything. Bradley had loved it because, “It just makes you glow”, or at least that was what he had told you. Your fingertips almost brushed your lips, but you stopped yourself and simple smiled.
The reception was gorgeous, the entire thing had been gorgeous. It was an outdoor venue, a boho-esque farm house that had been transitioned into a wedding venue. People were swarming everywhere, waiting to the newly weds and wedding party to show up for things to officially start. You made your way up the steps of the outdoor pavilion, looking around only to find familiar faces staring back at you. Danica and Jake had been kind enough to put all their good friends at the same table. Bob and Mickey both noticed you at the same time, alerting everyone else at the table of your presence.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Reuben said as he stood to pull your chair out for you.
“As if I wouldn’t miss this,” you replied while sitting down.
“That’s right, can’t stay away from us,” Mickey said with a big grin.
The night had moved fast. Dinner had been an event, Javy making his way over to your guys table to greet everyone. Jake and Danica eventually came over too, only after making sure to say hello to all the extended family, which Mickey was claiming you all were a part of. You, Cielo, Abby, and Natasha had talked about the struggles of finding the perfect guest dresses. Bob chiming in to say that you all looked phenomenal, only to turn red when you all complimented him back while Abby pressed a kiss to his cheek. The only person that was missing from your group was Bradley.
Your anxiety about the situation had subsided when the wedding party walked in. Bradley had actually looked at you, even gave you a small smile. The butterflies you had felt weren’t brand new, but they weren’t something you had felt in a long time. They were a regular thing Bradley used to give you, no matter how comfortable you had become with him. Butterflies on your one year anniversary, two year, and even three year.
Your gazes didn’t stop meeting throughout the entirety of dinner. He calmly sat at the wedding party table, disappearing at some point. The thought about finding him had crossed your mind, but you decided to stay seated, a small amount of anxiety winning that battle. It was a good thing though, the first dance starting only a few minutes after you made the decision.
All of you sat there mesmerized by the gorgeous couple dancing. They looked so seamless together, making your heart swell with fondness for the both of them. After the first dance was the dances they had with their parents. Danica with her father, Jake with his mother. All of it, everything was making something inside of you sad. Not for the people around you, but for the fact that you could have had this.
The night continued though. About forty-five minutes had passed since the music and dancing had started. You were sitting at your assigned table while sipping your wine. It had been your second glass. Even though you wanted to get really drunk, you decided not to. It wasn’t the time nor place, and seeing Bradley didn’t fully constitute it. But there was a still a part of you, one that was becoming a little overwhelming, was yearning for him.
A slow song had started to play, many people dispersing from the dance floor. It wasn’t the first slow song and it wouldn’t be that last. During the first slow song, Reuben had asked if you wanted to dance at one point after seeing the saddened look on your face. You had politely declined though, and Reuben confirmed that he understood. The two of you instead had sat at the table and watched all the varying couples on the floor. Jake and Danica, Javy and Natasha, Bob and Abby, Mickey and Cielo. The first time you didn’t take notice to Bradley’s presence, trying to ignore the silent plea inside of you.
Your heart was screaming at you, telling you to just walk over. It was wishing that you would simply go up and talk to him. Wishing that he would come talk to you. Wishing for so much that would probably never happen.
But this time you did notice his presence.
That’s because he wasn’t there, completely absent from the pavilion.
-
The day was going better than Bradley had anticipated.
So what if his chest was filled to the brim with regret and anxiety. He could get over that. What he couldn’t get over was how beautiful everything was. The venue looked like something from out of a movie, Danica truly looked like Venus, and it was perfect. Including you. Before he even walked down the dirt path they called the aisle, his eyes were locked on you.
How could they not be?
After countless days and nights he had spent with you. The very image of you was seared into his soul, being able to immediately pick you out before even seeing your face. You looked as beautiful as ever. It made his heart race, now being faced with the reality that he was only a mere twenty feet away from you. So, he made sure not to make eye contact throughout the entire ceremony. It was harder than he thought it would be. All he wanted to do was look at you, but he forced himself not to.
That was until the reception started. When he walked up the steps of the pavilion his heart was hammering. The DJ announced his name and he walked through, eyes finally meeting yours. It was brief, but it was enough to make his mind spin. He immediately noticed the color of your lips. It was his color, the one he had always loved on you. The one that made you look radiant, complimenting you in all the best ways. It had always grabbed his attention. It wasn’t an extravagant color, but you made it extravagant.
And you continued to keep his attention all night. His eyes followed you, adverting away fast enough for you not to notice when you looked his direction. It was borderline painful watching you with all of his friends. They were your friends too, but the two of you hadn’t been around all of them at the same time in forever. Not actual forever, but that’s what it felt like to Bradley. More like a lifetime.
All he kept thinking was about how foolish he had been. Wishing all over again that he would have done just something. Called you back, sent a text, or simply just not disappear out of your life. But at the time he thought that was the best thing. Only after did he realize how dumb he actually had been. He had to leave the pavilion for a moment, getting fresh air to relieve himself. He returned only a few minutes later.
Then when Jake and Danica started the first dance he started to feel sick. If he would have been better, that could have been the two of you. He could have seen you in one of those gorgeous white gowns. All he saw when he pictured it was you as an ethereal being. This all had to be karma, finally coming around to bite him in the ass. And it didn’t stop either. Watching everyone take their partner, arms wrapped lovingly around them.
Watching how Bob softly moved a stray strand of hair from Abby’s face. The bright smile that Mickey brought to Cielo. Even the way Natasha was laughing at Javy's dumb jokes. He wished that he could have been like that with you. Whisking you around the floor, whispering in your ear about how lucky he was to have you. But it was simply a wish, nothing more.
So Bradley left.
He didn’t want to sit with the regret and pain anymore. The memories of how foolish he had been to let you slip through his hands. He made his way out of the pavilion, dress shoes hitting the grass quickly as he walked a little bit away from the pavilion. Warm deep breaths filled his lungs as he stared out at the sky. Hues of orange and pink were starting to blend in with the clouds.
Not even a minute later did he hear someone coming down the pavilion steps. He waited for a moment, hoping he would hear the steps hit the stone path, but they didn’t. The small sound of shifting grass was creeping closer to him, making hm let out a sigh. He was whole heartedly expecting to see Javy, maybe even Nat in tow. But when he turned around he was much more surprised.
-
“Hi,” you said barely above a whisper.
“I.. Hi,” Bradley greeted back.
The two of you stood there for a moment, staring at one another. Bradley’s eyes had brightened, a soft smile pulling at his lips. Which you mimicked, offering your own small smile at him. Neither of you knew exactly what to say. It didn’t feel awkward, but it wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable either. You looked up, seeing the gorgeous colors of the sky. Bradley looked up to see a little more pink had settled in the sky.
“It’s beautiful,” you said.
“It really is,” Bradley replied.
There were a few beats of silence before you spoke again.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” you didn’t look at him, keeping your gaze towards the sky.
Bradley looked at you though, wondering why you would ask that question. You had never bothered him ever, he just sucked at showing how much he cared about you. Sucked so much he couldn’t even properly show it to you.
“You never have,” Bradley decided it was a now or never thing.
You looked at him, raising an eyebrow to act like you had no idea what he was implying. A breathy half laugh passed your lips as you stared at him now. You waited for a moment, hoping he might retract it or something. That never came though, so you dropped the slightly confused expression from your face.
“Bradley, I didn’t mean it like that,” your smile was gone now.
Bradley nodded, “I know, but there was a lot I wanted to say and never did.”
Those bubbles of anxiety were floating back into your chest, threatening to pop at any moment. But there were things that you had never said either. It was now or never, say your peace or forever hold it.
“There’s a lot I never said either,” you started to fiddle with your hands, a nervous habit you had always had.
“First, I want to say I’m sorry, genuinely,” Bradley’s eyes were sincere as he spoke, “you didn’t deserve anything that happened or that I said. I was stupid then, the emotionally capacity of a peanut.” You both let out a chuckle after that one. “And I don’t expect everything to be magically okay, but I just wanted to apologize and say”, he paused briefly, “that I miss you.”
It felt like your heart had broken into two. Everything you had ever seen in the media was telling you to ditch him, tell him to fuck off. But you couldn’t, because you completely understood what he was saying. You felt the exact same way. Ever since he left it was like you were missing something, double checking every time you left your apartment.
“Bradley, I’m miss you too,” you grabbed his hand as you spoke.
His hand encapsulated yours. The warmth was something familiar yet distant. He had always ran a bit warmer than you, something you had always appreciated. A soft smile appeared on his face once more. He rubbed his thumb lightly on the back of your hand. Neither of you were sure how much time had truly passed since you found him, but another slow song started to play in the distance. Bradley let out a small huff that caught your attention.
“What?” You asked.
“I just… I’ve been meaning to ask you all night,” Bradley started, “would you like to dance?”
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
The two of you stayed there in the grass. Bradley kept you close to him, hands resting on your waist. You rested your head on his chest while your arms where wrapped around his neck. It was peaceful, anxiety melting off the both of you. It wasn’t completely perfect, but it was something the both of you had wished for.
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wandanatsbaby · 5 months
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The Little Rose - 1
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Series Masterlist | Intro
Warning: This series includes dark themes
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Wanda looked in the mirror to the 5 year old girl that was sitting in the back seat. The girl was playing happily with two barbies she had brought while occasionally looking out the window.
Wanda looked back at the road just in time to see the big New Jersey Sign. Just as they had passed the state border the little girl got tired of playing with barbies.
"Where are we going?" She asked Wanda as she started pushing herself up as far as her seat belt would let her.
"Sit down Detka! You're going to get hurt" Wanda scolded. "We are going to Westview for vacation" the girl nods happily as she gets in a small bookbag and grabs a coloring book and crayons.
"How much longer til get there?"
"2 hours. Why don't you draw me a pretty picture? I'll turn on some music"
"Okay!"
Wanda begins to mess with the radio looking for a good station until she pauses on a certain one
"A 5 year old girl named Rose Romanoff went missing today around 12:35pm. It is said the girl was last seen at a restaurant with her foster parents before she went to the bathroom. And didn't return. The girl was last seen wearing a sunflower dress with pigtails. She has red hair and Green eyes. if anyone sees her please report it to the authorities." Wanda looks back at the girl before turning the radio quickly and taking a deep breath.
As they get to their destination Wanda sighs and climbs out of the car before opening the back door and helping Rose out and picking her up, placing her on her hip and then grabbing her toys.
Wanda walks up the steps of the house and sets the girl down. Unlocking the door she let's Rose in and then looks around before stepping in herself.
Finally in the safety of her home Wanda gets a good look at the girl. Her red wavy hair had gotten longer since the last time she saw her. Her eyes are no longer as bright as they Once were in the compound and she had gotten a couple inches taller. The sunflower dress she wears has spots of dirt around the bottom and she wore a pair of flip flops that had some sort of cartoon character on them.
“Wandy?” Rose called for the women making her snap out of the memories.
“Yes, my little flower?”
“Why Amy an Mark no come? They alway come.” Wanda looked at Rose with a blank expression before squatting down to her level.
“Well Sweet girl your with me now. Mark and Amy are no longer going to be here. Just you and me.” Rose looked at Wanda confused. She doesn't understand what Wanda was saying. Amy and Mark had been with her since Natasha died. “Come on let me show you your room.”
Wanda stands back up and reaches her arm out for the girl to take.
Rose stops and looks at the room in awe. The walls were painted pastel pink roses and vines painted all over them. There was a small bed that had lots of pillows and stuffed animals on it with a glittery pink bedspread. A Toy box sat in the corner of the room next to a big doll house and finally there was a huge walk-in closet that already had multiple pieces of clothing in it.
“For me?” Rose asked Excitedly as she was already bouncing on her feet wanting to go inspect the toys.
“All for you. Why don’t you go play and look around while I start dinner. Does that sound okay Detka?” Rose nodded and then immediately ran over to the toy box pulling out dolls and furniture to start setting up her doll house. Wanda smiled before walking towards the kitchen where she started to prepare dinner.
She was so happy she finally had you again. You were home and Wanda was going to get to be your mom. She took a glance at the picture that was hanging on the living room wall. It was of Natasha and Wanda a couple months before she died. They had just started a relationship then and was getting ready to tell Rose about it before Natasha had- Wanda stops her thoughts and with a sad sigh continues to the kitchen.
Tags: @simpformelissa
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thy-spicy-orange · 1 year
Text
At long last, my analysis on the down fall of the cartooning industry.
Cartoons have long been a medium of storytelling for all ages. You’ve got things ranging from Dora the Explorer to Family Guy.
And you’ve got all the in between’s that (while not rated for all ages) everyone can watch. Like Miraculous and The Owl House.
Cartoons (or animated series) as a whole have always been made for everyone. The use of beautiful and fluid animation is a great way to draw in viewers and get them engaged. And then in most cases, the plot comes through and gets viewers hook, line, and sinker.
Unfortunately as this form of storytelling gains popularity, the stigma around it continues to grow. That stigma being that Cartoons or animated series are only for children.
The idea surrounding that stigma is false. You wouldn’t let a child watch shows like Family Guy or South Park or even Camp Camp. And those are cartoons.
With the rise of more child friendly cartoons though, the misconception continues to rise as well.
The most prominent example of this in the Modern Animation Era? The Owl House.
Despite the creator, Dana Terrace herself, tweeting about her target audience for this show, many still believe that this show is for kids only.
This was only proven false though when Kids weren’t tuning in though. In fact, a majority of Owl House fans consisted of people ages 13-25. Not the audience Disney expected.
Unfortunately it wasn’t the audience they wanted either. In 2021 Disney announced it would be canceling the show and shortening its third and final season into three, hour-long specials.
A lot of Fans (and even the creator herself) speculate it has to do with Homophobia seeing as the show featured Disneys first WLW/ Sapphic couple in a children’s cartoon. And while I think that definitely contributed to their decision, I think there’s a bit more to it than that.
The Owl House, from the get go, set itself apart from other Disney Series. It jumped in with its darker concepts and art styles. The color pallet was different from Disney’s typical pastels. The character was relatable to audiences and portrayed the struggles of growing up different and weird.
Then, after a good Season 1 A, the second half came in. Here’s when the plot developed. This is where I believe Disney began to have problems with it.
Because of the complicated storyline and development of actual plot they couldn’t just air it on the Disney Channel on cable.
Which means they couldn’t get children to sit still and watch when it was on. Which means less people watched the Disney Cable channel.
Essentially what is happening is Disney as well as other streaming and Cable services are “kidyfying” Animation to make it cable worthy for children.
Hence The Owl House “not fitting their brand” and being cancelled while shows like Big City Greene and The Loud House have been, and traditionally are, aloud to run for multiple seasons one after another.
And shows like Infinity Train and The Owl House get cancelled or shortened.
I believe the act of doing this will truly be the downfall of the cartoon industry.
By reducing cartoons and animation to be kids only your depleting 75% of your audience. The 75% that is able to go out and buy mercy or go to see movies produced about the shows or convince adults to continue paying for services to watch these shows.
They’re killing their biggest sources of revenue and with it killing one of the greatest forms of story telling through television.
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lephamquynhnhu · 7 months
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Millennial Aegis
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Chapter 4
Jing Yuan x Fem! reader
WARNINGS/ TAGS: Arranged marriage, the reader has a default name, OOC, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)
Word count: ~2300
Summary: He is so stubborn to give up on you, and you are too hard-headed to reciprocate his affection. When do you both stop torturing each other?
Not long after, you were recruited as his Strategic advisor and responsible for internal affairs. At first, you thought there would be disputes and inefficiency when working with Lord Jing Yuan, but the fact reverses. You and the general surprisingly harmonized in working together. Hence, the next fifty years of marriage continue to flow smoothly. 
When you start thinking this is what happens for the rest of your life, the wheel of fate fails astray its railway, once again.
One day while you and Lord Jing Yuan were supervising the Artisanship Commission, mara-struck Cloud knights ambushed you. After just a millisecond of exchanging thoughts in silence, you two have agreed on the proper course of action in this urgent situation. He actively blocks and takes the enemies down at the front line as you evacuate innocent citizens and protect them with Baritsu or even Jujustu if a quotient enemy manages to get past the general's defense. It is supposed to be a perfect plan as Jing Yuan could easily fend off the attack to stall time for the evacuation and reinforcement. Nevertheless, the table suddenly turns when foes actively change to target your swing, which makes the circumstance dire.
"A Zhi, watch out!" - You only hear the general shouts a warning. As soon as turning around, you see red.
Your pupils squeeze at the dreadful sight of Lord Jing Yuan shedding blood because he used his body to shield you from the mortal wound. Before staggering, he quickly decapitates the said enemy with sublime swordsmanship. Time seems to freeze, and everything is immovable as you witness the fearful scene since you never see him in this state. A wrathful aura with bloodthirst he gives off sends a chilly shiver down your spine. However, Jing Yuan draws his sword into the ground to refuse to kneel.
You will never forget the moment rushing toward to support him. The slash runs from his left back shoulder to his right hip, and the smell of rusty iron intrudes your nostrils as the bright red stains your hands. Those things make your blood run cold and leave you incapacity. 
"I'm glad you are okay." - the general now completely lean on your figure and only murmurs the last sentence in your ear before blackout due to blood loss. Fortunately, the reinforcement finally comes in time to suppress the chaotic situation.
"That fatal blow intended to reap your soul. If Lord Jing Yuan did not shield you, it would massacre you into two pieces." 
The statement of Lady Bailu keeps roaming over and over your head, as you sit beside the bed and hold his hand dearly. After the assault, the general was hospitalized at Alchemy Commission and stayed limp in a coma for five days. Jing Yuan's body temperature is hot, and his palms are always cozy against your skin, but now, it feels like you are touching a marble figure. Cold and lifeless. Your heart aches whenever skimming over his pale complexion to see a feeble breath that looks like his longevity emits through exhalation. It must be your illusion since you barely sleep these days and vitality drains from your brain. Negative thoughts start overwhelming your mind as thinking the worst scenario. "What if...he never wakes up?" - That question replays countless times as you bring his hand to cup your cheek to seek solace. The burning sensation in your tired eyes accumulates to form woe tears. 
Meanwhile, the general had a bad dream in his comatose status, in other words, a nightmarish one. His mentality treks across a vast sea of twinkling stars and finally arrives at a flowery blooming hill, roseate pastel petals looming freely at the landscape. Jing Yuan sees a man from afar, and he is mourning. His feet automatically take control as he dashes toward the man and backpedals to recognize his other essence. 
"Lord Jing Yuan, are you crying?" - You abruptly appear in a spirit body with a glowy halo luminance, and a sad smile decorates your feature. 
"I am sorry." - You gently mumble while wrapping your arms around his other essence, but he seems unbothered. Or rather, he cannot sense it. Too close yet so distant. Jing Yuan's mind goes wild at the scene, but unable to move. The last thing he sees is a blazing crimson ray shining bright under sunlight from your red Camillia hairpin. 
His Highness is pulled back to the present and finds tears threatening to fall from your lower eyelids. 
"I don't like seeing my lady cries." 
Your lashes fly open at a familiar low-tone voice. The gentle Autumn glint in his amber orbs never changes when watching you. Jing Yuan uses his thumb to attempt to wipe your tears but only makes them roll faster. They finally burst out and cascade like two small springs on your face as you are paralyzed. 
The general thinks every cloud has a silver lining because the proximity between you two shortens, and the invisible wall begins crumbling. His dream is no longer a fleeting fantasy as you comply with his childish requests, even receiving his affection. If trolling around the hellscape is the external push factor bringing you to his arms, a worthy price to pay. 
"Why did you shield me, your Highness? We are immortals, so the ordinary wounds will not kill us?" - You finally give out curiousness while feeding him with an oat porridge bowl. Lord Jing Yuan answers as a matter of fact that he wants to keep you away from any harm at all costs. 
"What kind of legendary general cannot protect his wife?" He adds and chuckles at your inquiry.
Warmth blooms over your heart. Perhaps, you eventually felt for Jing Yuan after two hundred years.
Three months later.
"You should stay at Alchemy Commission for at least one following month." - Thanks to his prime, the injury healed quickly, and his recovery process was shortened than anticipated. He is supposed to stay longer at the Alchemy Commission for advanced monitoring, yet he decided to discharge sooner. 
"I knew that, but I want to sleep with my lady." - the general tightens his embrace around your waist, nuzzling your hair. 
You two keep silent for a while and lie still as a bizarre mellow tranquillity nestles in your mind. If it were you back two centuries ago, you must be pondering what kind of this feeling. However, you of the present tense acquire the answer that you miss him and wish to sleep by your husband's side too. 
"About the ambush..." - Jing Yuan's voice arouses the serenity of the night veil - "It was an organized crime" - you looking at the void when completing his sentence. 
"Pretty sharp as always, are we?" - A low chuckle escapes his lips and resonates behind your back. 
When connecting the dots, that is a proper conclusion you can draw. The mara-struck occurred accurately when you two were at the center as traffic and the crowd were at a peak. Moreover, the comms signal was more sluggish than usual, which indicates an anonymous party dipped its hand to hinder information connection. That explains why the reinforcement arrived late and pushed you into a passive state by prolonging your defense time. On top of that, the most convincing factor was the enemies' movement. Ordinarily, Cloudknights with Mara-struck would attack any living identities in their eyesight, but they changed target to you as if somebody commanded or manipulated them to shift behavior. In addition, there was a high possibility that they were domestic criminals because they knew you were always the general's weakness and familiar with your schedule. Only people who stay long enough in Xianzhou Luofu recognize this point. Or even worse when treacherous power hides among your authority. 
You give out an exasperated sigh thinking about the subject. You silently hope the criminals did not conclude with foreign factors because things gradually grew more complex. The event feels like a bell that prophesies a vicious storm to Xianzhou. 
After fully recovering, you two begin to investigate the ambush and explore the existence of an organization called Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. They followed the path of Aeon Abundance and plotted a grand scheme to overthrow the current government. There was also convincing evidence pointing to their failed attempt to assassinate the Abitrary-General. Not long after, Lord Jing Yuan and the Internal Bureau opened an expanded operation to eliminate that organization. All the data and files from this performance were saved as the utmost military secrets and unpublic. However, as soon as the underground battle successfully ended, his Highness got the intel that the Abundance's evils were devasting the other ships. Hence, the Xianzhou Alliance summons him to partake in their purging expeditionary.
The two of you do not measure the duration of his absence, but the general will not return before several upcoming decades. You suspect the ensnarement was just a catalyst of the event sequence, or maybe you are too skeptical to theorize a nonsense hypothesis. 
You sigh softly as your hand is placed flat on his chest armor before seeing him off but say nothing. Lord Jing Yuan takes it and squeezes a little, still keeping silent.
"General...please take good care of yourself from now on and return to Luofu safely." 
He scans over your face and cannot read your mind yet. Perhaps, both of you have tangled thoughts and do not know how to display what kind of expression. He suddenly snuggles you into his embrace, and you hug him back firmly after a second of surprise. The usual scent of cedar wafting as you breathe in the base of his neck for one last time. 
"You will always be here for me, right?" Jing Yuan's voice cracks slightly while your eyes start to tear up.
"I will wait for your glorious triumph and be here for you."
Your cheek presses against his chest armor as you whisper the response. 
He feels light-hearted and looks down with a soft smile. His eyes seem to sparkle with affection and admiration towards you. 
"Thank you...for everything. And please take care of yourself too. I will see you again someday."
With that short farewell, the general and you depart different paths. 
All the Luofu's affairs are now your responsibilities and execute with Lady Fu Xuan. Since the absence of Lord Jing Yuan, time seems to stop flowing, and the four seasons no longer hold any meaning. To you, they are now the linear of weather morphing. Spring with hundreds of flowers blooming synergized with the honeyed love songs of birds does not reach your interest anymore. Summer comes along the blue sapphire sky, and the symphony of cicadas is a mere trait of fiery weather. Even the mellow Autumn hue used to remind you of his amber irises now seeming arid and tasteless.
"Your Ladyship...Your Ladyship!"
There is a concerned voice calling you desperately. It seems familiar, but you cannot figure it out as your clouded mind is incompetent now.
"Master Jin!"
The title finally does the trick when a sugar cube flops down your tea as you are back to reality. 
"You space out again, your Ladyship." - Yanqing points out with a pout on his face. 
You and your musical disciple have been playing chess, and it would be shameful if he finds out you are not concentrating on his movement. However, the young boy is far intelligent to hit your nerve with another fact. He beams before you recover.
"My master Jin must miss General too much."
Your dark frown at Yanqing sends him quivering a little.
"Since when did you become this audacity?"  
He would be doomed if provoking you any further, so he says his apologies and excuses himself quickly to evade your forthcoming reprimands. Looking at the boy jump with joy, you assume Lord Jing Yuan was too lenient with him. Maybe, so were you. 
Either way, your shared disciple hit your bullseye as you thought about Jing Yuan more frequently lately. Due to the attribute of every war, you must avoid all electronic devices with short wavelengths to prevent line-tracking. Moreover, to secure leaking any secrets, you incinerate every letter Lord Jing Yuan sent once done reading. It has been nearly one hundred-odd year pass, and you lost count of the letters exchanged. You cannot help but ponder what he felt when waiting for you to reciprocate his love because it is unbearably painful now. You divert concentration on the snow-besieged yard where frost blasted every bud except for one thing. Red camellia still prominently blossoms at the ethereal white despite the harsh weather. Whenever looking snowflakes fall ceaselessly like this, you imagine them as dandelion clocks dancing around the ambiance. Your mind starts drifting back to the old memory when the two of you drank wine and contemplated the full moon.  
"Have you ever seen any shooting stars, Lord Jing Yuan?" - You asked him while watching a burgundy maelstrom swirling in your crystal glass. 
"Not yet. Something in your mind?" 
A halation crowned above Jing Yuan's head when drawing attention to you. He looked like a divine creation when bathing under that hazy moonlight then. You might be drunk as seeing the blurry silvery locks adorning his face. 
"People said that wishes will come true if you finish your sentence before they disappear." - You zoomed out your eyesight to the endless celestial bodies skyward, shining like hidden gems - "I...want to be your hero for once." 
You finally closed your dreamy eyes and dozed off on the general's shoulder.
Finally, the expeditionary finished with a victory when the cherry blossom flourished. All of Xianzhou Loufu's corners sing the triumphal hymn to welcome back their legendary general as swallows levitate in the high sky. As soon as Jing Yuan returns to his estate, you jump on to hug him. Being crashed surprisedly, he loses his balance leading you both to land on the floor. After some moments, he manages to get himself up, and he feels like his heart nearly explodes with joy as clinging to you once more.
"A Zhi, I am home."
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bylersecretsanta2023 · 3 months
Text
from @willelworld, to @marshmallo824
Will is mad.
He’s been sitting on his bed fuming for the past two hours, stirring in a thick cloud of frustration while staring down at his final project for ART235. There’s one of Jonathan’s mixtapes— he made it for Will as a graduation present, congrats on surviving high school. literally!— buzzing from his Walkman headphones, acting as white noise to wade through the jumbled thoughts straggling around his mind.
He’s burning up in a newfound rage at the fact that he just can’t figure out what’s wrong with this piece lying in his lap. The class is one of his art electives— The Beauty of Still Life — and despite being only a 200 level elective course, it’s been pulling Will through the wringer all semester long. After two graphite drawings, three chalk pastels, a 3D clay model, and his very first venture into oil painting, Will is decidedly not seeing the beauty in it. He is, however, seeing red, because the final project is due tomorrow morning, and it’s already ten at night, and the charcoal coating his fingers and therefore streaking across his bed sheets is enough to have him in tears. Will holds them back, and continues to stare blankly, like the flowers and grapes and vase will actually come to life and clue him in on what he’s been getting wrong, what feels so off about the piece as a whole.
It’s the last night of Hanukkah, and Will has spent the better half of it rolling around his bed, sighing every few minutes as he makes another mark with a stick of charcoal, smudging it with a finger, then realizing it wasn’t looking any better. The kneaded eraser feels sweaty in his palm as he continues playing with it like a stress toy.
He and Mike had lit the final set of candles of their chanukiah hours ago, the flames leaving dripping wax in their wake as Will sat and watched. It was his first time celebrating away from home, from his family, which felt different, but he’s lucky to at least have Mike around to get a sense of home. Another thing he’s mad about - finals week taking up the time where he could be home with his mom, Jonathan, El and Hop, but instead he’s been swamped with hours upon hours of tedious papers, crammed studying, and finishing this stupidly frustrating still life.
In all, his first semester of college was nice, if not a bit hectic. Living with Mike had been both a dream and a nightmare, which he fully expected when signing himself up for living with the guy you’re in gay love with. And now, he’s only twelve hours away from the end, the finish line in sight, the last sprint before he’s back in Hawkins for a month of rest and recuperation. But this drawing is all wrong, and he’s ready to resign himself to a B+ in this class by handing in the world’s shittiest charcoal still life at 10 AM sharp. After that, the two of them will shove their suitcases and duffle bags of necessities into Mike’s trunk, and drive the hours-long ride home for winter break.
Will’s stomach growls embarrassingly loud, enough so that he hears it over both the headphones and music. As if on cue, the door handle jangles around and Mike waltzes through, kicking it shut behind him. He’s carrying a white porcelain plate with a couple of latkes, reheated from a few nights ago. Earlier in the week, Mike had somehow found the time amidst his plethora of essays to conjure up freshly made latkes in their dinky little communal dorm kitchen. Will isn’t sure how he did it, considering the sheer lack of kitchen utensils, and the rusted stove that clearly hasn’t been updated since the 50’s, a fire hazard waiting to happen. But nonetheless, when Mike had walked back upstairs carrying a platter filled with that beautiful fried potato, Will just about cried at the sentiment.
Mike joins him on his bed without asking, knowing full well that he’s allowed, and Will’s stomach growls again for good measure, like an alarm blaring out his jealousy over Mike finishing the last of the batch. Will hooks his single clean finger around the headphones and tugs them off.
Wordlessly, Mike hands him the plate. “For you,” he says, voice airy and dripping with fondness. Will could kiss him on the spot. He smiles, then looks down at his fingertips covered in chalky black, and then looks back to Mike sheepishly.
“Open. I’ll feed you,” Mike commands, and Will coughs out a laugh in surprise. He gives him a funny look, expecting Will to carry out their normal routine: Will refuses the help, then Mike pushes him on it, and Will caves immediately.
Will could argue on this, and he considers it, but he’s starving, and it feels ridiculous at this point to decline Mike’s care. They’ve fought monsters together and protected each other in literal battles. Mike hand feeding him latkes isn’t gonna kill him. Maybe.
“I feel like a baby right now,” Will admits, opening his mouth regardless of the comment as Mike breaks off a small piece for him to eat, then takes a bite for himself. They were much better fresh, but Will can’t complain. Mike pushes another piece against Will’s mouth before he’s done chewing the first, laughing, warm and light, at the unimpressed glare he receives.
And this is where Will’s biggest problem lies. This is the root of his current predicament with the still life. See, while he should’ve been spending the past three weeks getting a head start on his final project, he instead chose to work on something that’s, in his opinion, much more important, if not stupidly reckless. Will had put all of his free time towards a painting for Mike. A new one, a callback to the last grand piece he dedicated to him, in the backseat of that musty, sweltering pizza van flying through the Nevada desert.
He’s being stupid, Will realizes. He understands that, fully. He’s spent months overanalyzing every interaction with Mike since graduation. He spent the entirety of late October contemplating if he should go through with it, with making him another painting. This time, with a proper, honest confession attached. Not the piss-poor excuse of whatever he gave last time, hiding behind El, making a fool of himself with his trembling, lying words.
This time, he actually does have a little confidence. Mike has always been kind with him, always caring and gentle, but never in an insulting or belittling manner. But ever since they moved in together, it’s like the final walls separating the two of them fell, and Mike’s been all over him. He’s always complimenting Will, more than normal, peppering him with little innocuous comments on how nice he looks today or how well he’s doing in his classes or how good he’s been at making new friends. On top of that, Mike’s dialed up his touchiness to an entirely unheard level. He’s gotten more hugs from Mike in the past three months than in the entirety of high school. And the worst (best) part, is the ‘flirting.’ Will is hesitant to call it that, not wanting to get his hopes up, but he just doesn’t know another word to use that sums up all the little moments in their conversations that feel too playful, too endearing, and altogether too sweet.
It’s like Mike had some grand revelation on move-in day back in August, that this was for real. That Will wasn’t going anywhere. That they survived all the bullshit of their childhood, and they still have each other, and nothing could change that other than their own choices, not some ever-looming threat of death.
Whatever it is, Will is grateful, but he also wasted so much energy on dissecting every change in Mike’s behavior, every normal action amplified by an indescribable air of openness, trust, and, dare he say it, love. Will is feeling loved, every single day, and it unsettles him greatly. Not that he doesn’t feel loved by his family and friends at home, of course not. But this is a different kind of love. He feels wanted.
Which is why, despite their 13 years of platonic history, and despite his better judgment, he’s decided to take the plunge. Risk it all, so to speak. Gamble their friendship. Put his heart on the line and pray that Mike picks it back up, gingerly in his hands. That he returns it to Will’s chest in-tact and, against all odds, returns his feelings, too. If it all blows up in his face, Will’s betting on their school’s resident housing office to help him switch to a new dorm before the start of the Spring semester.
He’s chewing on another piece of the latke, deep in thought about this sticky situation, when Mike oh so helpfully points out his other, more pressing plight.
“How’s the still life going?” he asks, staring down at the almost completed drawing in Will’s lap. “It looks really nice.”
Will groans at this. “You say that about all my work. It’s starting to mean less and less everyday, you know.”
Mike scoffs playfully, not really hurt, but wanting to keep this conversation fun and spirited. “You’re saying my expert opinion doesn’t matter?”
“Expert in what, exactly?” Will welcomes the needed distraction from his work, and he wouldn’t admit it if asked, but he really does love to hear Mike comment on his art. Mike was his first critic, his first muse, and his biggest fan when it comes to his artwork.
“I’m the world’s leading expert in Will Byers art history. After you die they’re gonna be begging me to sell your old paintings, but I won’t budge.”
“After I die?” Will asks, eyes bulging as he laughs out the words. “Are you gonna open a museum in my honor, or something?”
Mike rolls his head to the side where it’s resting against the wall, linking their eyes. “Oh, definitely. There’ll be a whole wing just for D&D. I’ll sell Will the Wise merch in the gift shop for a profit.”
Will laughs again at the imagery Mike created for him, and shakes his head, his smile wide and on display. Mike tears his gaze away from Will’s eyes and for a moment, it moves to somewhere lower, a dangerous spot just below his nose and right above his chin. And then he’s looking down at the charcoal drawing again.
“Why are you still working on it, though? This looks incredible. Really. Like, really, really professional,” and Will can tell Mike’s having trouble finding the right words to describe the drawing, because it’s unlike any of the art Will actually enjoys creating. It’s black and white for starters, and there’s no people, just inanimate objects.
Will looks back up to Mike’s face, and he’s clearly concentrating hard. He appreciates the concern Mike gives him, the effort he puts into things even when he’s not quite sure how. “Not enough magic for your taste?”
This brings a closed-mouth grin to Mike’s lips, but he still hasn’t broken his gaze from the drawing. “Could use a dragon or two, I suppose.”
He’s suddenly all too aware of the painting currently hiding underneath his bed, right below the two of them. It’s different from the one he made in ‘86. Rather than the Party fighting a three-headed dragon, it’s simply a full-body portrait of Sir Mike. Will’s improved significantly in the past three and a half years, constantly honing his skills with acrylic paint through high school and now early college. He thinks he got the metallic reflect on Mike’s paladin armor just right, and he made sure to include the big old heart on his shield, again. Just to hammer home the point even more.
“But like, for real. From an objective standpoint, can you see anything— I don’t know— weird about it?” Will probes for more feedback. He should’ve paid more attention in the critique for his last project.
Mike goes quiet this time, zoning in on it. Will watches as his eyes glide back and forth, picking up on all the details. The lines and streaks of the charcoal stick lie across the finely textured paper. The hours of smudging and blending that Will endured, chasing perfection. The negative space he left behind for the highlighted points. The shadows cast by each object— a bowl of grapes surrounded by ornate candlesticks and a vase with a single lily flower— making them look like they’re bouncing off the paper and taking up real space. All the elements are present, but yet, something isn’t quite right.
“It’s the perspective, isn’t it?” Will interrupts the peaceful silence, breaking Mike’s concentration with his anxious rambling. “That’s definitely it. But it’s too late- I don’t think I can really fix it at this point- and I don’t have time to start all over, I mean I’ve been working on this nonstop for a week and a half and I don’t know why I keep fucking it up and—“
“Will,” Mike cuts him short with a hand pressed to his forearm, almost clutching at him. “There’s nothing wrong with the perspective. This looks crazy realistic, like I could reach in and touch everything for myself, you know? But it still has that sense of, like, your style. It feels purposeful, I guess, with how you can see the lines if you look up close. It feels human, even though there’s no people included.”
Will stares at him in a profound shock, like he didn’t expect Mike to go so deep with his analysis. He blinks a few times, a blush sprouting on his cheeks. “Thank you- that’s, that’s so. I’m so— thank you.” He settles on a simple form of gratitude, not wishing to trip over his words any longer.
“It’s perfect,” Mike tacks on, finally looking back upwards to take in Will’s expression. Will forgot how forward Mike is with his compliments for his art, as it’s been a good long while since he’s properly gifted him anything. Will feels a mix of excitement and dread at how Mike will react to his present-slash-confession. He’s planning on showing him the painting on the night the Party officially holds their holiday festivities, once everyone’s returned from their respective schools. He figures it’s a nice enough opportunity to give him the painting, and also relieves Will of the panic around finding Mike a suitable Christmas gift.
And Will thinks it’s over. He thinks his heart is finally safe to crawl back down his throat and settle into his ribcage once more. But Mike has other plans.
“You’re perfect,” Mike says in a whisper, but his eyes are still locked tight in an unbreaking connection with Will’s. He means it wholeheartedly, and Will sees something glimmer in his eyes at that moment. He’s made a choice.
Before Will can even process Mike’s words or begin to formulate a coherent response, Mike’s face is suddenly in front of him and it’s all he can see. It’s all he knows. Mike Mike Mike. Screw The Beauty of Still Life, Wil decides he’s never going to make another piece of art that isn’t focused around the boy in front of him.
Will’s not really sure what he expected would happen within the next few seconds, as all his brain power is going towards deciphering the logistics of proposing his new major that entirely surrounds painting this beautiful boy he lives with, but then there’s a pressure on his mouth, and he’s thrown out of his daze.
What the fuck. Mike’s kissing me. And it’s an electric shock to his nervous system, and it’s like his body’s being woken up by a bucket of frozen water as he’s flung into the present moment. His brain catches up, and before he starts kissing back or doing really anything at all, Mike’s pulling away. His eyes are searching his face, back and forth, in this confused and hopeful and pained fashion, brows pinching in the center.
Instead of saying anything useful, Will blurts out, “Oh my god, you ruined the surprise.” He’s thinking about how many hours of tossing and turning in his bed, pondering what words to use when he inevitably reveals the true depth of his feelings. All the worries and fears he’s harbored, all the insecurities, they’re playing on a loop in his mind, like how they say your life flashes before your eyes right as you die. He’d gladly let Mike kill all his fears.
“What?” Mike utters, quiet and hurt, his very own fears springing up as his brain zeros in on the word ‘ruined’ and nothing else. Will wants to punch himself in the face.
“Shit, sorry, I meant. I meant that, I was planning on doing that, too. As a Christmas present,” Will states, dumbly. He’s still a bit disoriented.
“You were planning on kissing me as a present?” Mike giggles, his eyes turning to crescents. “I mean, I’m not complaining. But you could do that any day of the year, if you want.”
“No, that’s— I was trying to say that… that I’ve spent the past few weeks writing up this- this whole confession to you in my head. And I wanted to wait until we were back in Hawkins and not, like, sleeping in the same room. In case things got awkward,” Will explains, still sounding sort of silly. He’s never felt simultaneously so embarrassed yet so overjoyed.
Mike’s laughing a little, eyes dazzling. But now he’s sobering up, listening to Will intently.
“And, I- um. I kinda— I made you a painting.”
Mike brightens at this, his smile widening even more, somehow. “Like the one when we were fifteen?” He asks, teasing, with a tilt of his head.
Will sighs, embarrassment trickling in yet again. “Yeah. Like the one when we were fifteen. But much better quality, and more kissing involved, preferably.”
It’s like Mike was waiting to hear the word ‘kiss’ again for the green light to lean back in. He puts a hand on the back of Will’s neck and into his hair, pulling him closer. Will rests his own on the side of Mike’s face, cautiously, like he’s still not sure if he’s allowed to do this. They meet in the middle, and this time, it’s not as much of a jolt, as an overwhelming feeling of warmth. It’s like pouring warm water over your hair and down your neck— shuddering, but in a good way.
When they break apart again, Will realizes he never wiped the charcoal off his hands, and there’s a collection of smeared black fingerprints on Mike’s cheek. He can’t contain his laugh at the sight, bubbling up out of him. He feels on fire. He feels hysterical.
“Can I see the painting, now that I’ve ruined your surprise?” Mike asks, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Will considers it, and then shakes his head. “Nah, you’re gonna have to wait for the full thing. Including the confession. It’s only fair.”
Mike wilts at this, grabbing Will’s neck again from where his hand has been resting on his shoulder. “I don’t think I can spend the next ten days pretending like there’s nothing between us,” he says in a hushed tone. He’s being dramatic, Will notices, and it’s in that faint teasing tone that Mike always does when he tries to get his way.
“I mean, you don’t have to do that,” Will offers.
Mike spends a total of five seconds considering this, before he outright asks: “So, you’ll be my boyfriend now?”
Will barks out another laugh at the way he phrased it. Sometimes, it’s hard to keep up with Mike’s impulsivity. He’s spent the last couple of years wanting to make a move, and then the past months building up to actually doing it. But here Mike is, beating him to it in a seemingly split-second decision.
“Yes, of course. Of course I’ll be your boyfriend,” Will answers him, beaming at the prospect. He can’t believe his luck. He can’t believe Mike’s timing.
“Okay… so, can I see the painting now?”
Will rolls his eyes without a hint of malice, shoving Mike in the shoulder. “Did you really think that would work?”
Mike leans into Will’s space once more, bouncing back to him like a rubber band. He’s never seen the other boy happier. “Worth a shot.”
A couple weeks later, when Will receives his final grades, the “B+” next to ART235 is enough for him.
It’s perfect, even.
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ricoka · 2 months
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9 people I’d like to get to know better
Tagged by both @castironnbitch and @irregularcollapse - thank you both ❤️
Last song: technically the digimon opening, something on the radio before that and before that Closer To Fine by Brandi Carlile and Catherine Carlile
Favourite colour: lilac and mint, and all other kinds of pastel shades but those two in particular
Last movie/TV show: not beating the dork allegations........ Also Digimon 😭
Sweet/Savoury/Spicy: Sweet 😔
Last thing I googled: the age of a Youtuber I watched earlier because I wanted to confirm he's around my age. 🫡 this was in relation to the video I watched lmao
Current obsession: probably Lewis Capaldi's Album Broken By Desire To Be Heavenly Sent (Extended Edition) and buying increasingly more art supplies I use less and less lately
Last book: please don't call me out like that.......... I'm still reading The Lonely City by Olivia Laing. I don't have enough brain cells in the evening so I tend to ignore it in favour of rereading fanfiction
Looking forward to: spring, I can't wait to see flowers again and the green on trees and everything coming to live again. Also my next vacation and trying out the Live Drawing session, hopefully, next week, though I still have to figure out the logistics of it all.
Tagging @closetfascination @shealwaysreads @imperfectlibrarian @wellcomeoneileen @fujikoi @untilwesailagain (continuing the trend of tagging I know someone who's alread been tagged 🫡) @coffeedrgn87
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jackie-sugarskull · 21 days
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Here’s a short oneshot involving my Thundermans Sona!
I was a bit inspired by @candyheartedchy to write this!
It’s nights like this that Jack really wishes she had stayed in her room.
It was Family Game Night at the Thundermans. And while she technically wasn’t family, Hank and Barb were kind enough to offer to let her join in on the fun. She graciously opted out, though, and decided to stand in as a referee.
A fat load of good that did, because things were getting… heated. Hank and Barb were stressing out, Nora was acting weird, and the twins were at each other’s throats.
All over a new car.
It hadn’t taken long for Jack to figure out that the house’s self-proclaimed “future supervillain”, and the actual supervillain that was his roommate, had rigged the family’s prize wheel to land on the most rare prize of all this time, and she was even less surprised when the two of them had planned to team up that night.
But things soon got complicated.
Much to everyone’s surprise, Max invited his girlfriend Allison to join in at the last minute. Turns out she’s a whiz at “Who Arted?”.
Jack couldn’t help but feel her heart go out for Colosso. The rabbit looked and sounded so upset, and she couldn’t blame him. If there wasn’t a civilian in the house, she would’ve immediately offered to partner up with him.
As Game Night continued, she swears that one could cut the tension in the air with a chainsaw. Allison was a talented artist, which quickly put her and Max in the lead. Billy and Nora on the other hand were a disaster. Nora would keep throwing out nonsensical guesses before Billy’s marker even touched the drawing pad. And Phoebe…
Phoebe was desperate.
Her frantic scribbles only confused little Chloe, who quickly became bored and headed up to her room, leaving Phoebe without a partner and all but disqualified from the game. But she wasn’t gonna let Max win.
“Please, Jack,” she pleaded. “You’re the only one here I can partner with!”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Jack said. “I already agreed to be referee. And besides…” She then lowered her voice to a whisper so Allison wouldn’t hear. “The last thing we need is me getting stressed out, swarming the house with living shadows, and blowing mine and your family’s secrets!”
“…Good point,” Phoebe mused, then turned to glare at her brother. “Nice try, Max. I’m gonna find another partner. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault Chloe ditched you,” Max said, before turning to Allison with a sweet smile. “I’d never do that.”
“Hypocrite!” Jack exclaimed behind a round of coughs as Phoebe scoffed. “Sorry, I have a really dry throat all of a sudden. I’m gonna go get some water.” And with that, Jack excused herself to the kitchen.
As she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, she could hear Phoebe’s voice protesting to her brother, but couldn’t make out what she was saying. When she came back into the living room, Phoebe was gone. A few minutes later, however, she came back with a smile.
“Where’d you run off to?” Jack asked.
“Just had to make a phone call,” Phoebe explained. “I found a new partner. He’ll be here soon.”
“Huh. That was fast.”
“Yep!”
————
About 10 minutes later, the doorbell rang.
“Oh! I’ll get it,” Phoebe said as she headed towards the door. “That’s my new teammate.” She opened it, and in walked a man Jack hadn’t seen before. He looked to be around Hank’s age, if not a little younger. Maybe a relative of his she hadn’t met yet?
He was also on the taller side, maybe around six feet or so (if her mental comparison to her own height of a little over 5-foot-1 was correct). His height wasn’t the only thing that made him stand out, though. Aside from his grey hat and khaki pants, he wore a bright magenta suit jacket with a pink silk handkerchief in the front pocket, over a pastel pink plaid shirt, and a… monocle? A little fancy for a family get together, but she wasn’t one to judge.
His eyes felt familiar to her, though. They were a warm brown that she could have sworn shined with a bit of mischief, but still felt safe.
As she wracked her brain over where she’d seen eyes like that before, she took a drink from her water bottle. This turned out to be bad timing on her part, as it was then that the man spoke.
“Hello, family!” He greeted as he took off his hat, showing his salt-and-pepper hair.
That voice. She knew that voice.
The instant she heard it, Jack immediately spit out her water in shock… all over Hank. It took everything for the man in front of them not to laugh at the sight. He cleared his throat to regain his composure.
“Uncle Colosso’s here for Game Night!”
Jack wiped her mouth with an apologetic look and glanced around the room to see everyone else’s feelings on the matter. Hank and Barb were stunned, the fact that the former was now soaking wet not even seeming to register. Billy and Nora were just as surprised. Allison just looked confused.
And then there was Max.
Poor kid looked like he’d seen a ghost and had the consequences of his actions slap him in the face all at once. His expression only fell even more as Phoebe and the now human(?!) Colosso leaned down to him, both whispering smugly.
“You’re going down.”
Well, this just got interesting, Jack thought to herself, failing to hide her amused smile. It was nice knowing you, Max. As her eyes met those of her best friend, he shot her a wink and let out that familiar mischievous laugh.
It was moments like this where she was glad that she decided not to stay in her room.
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delopsia · 17 days
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🌼 delivered by dogsled in a Rhett vase.
How about a continuation of: stars on the barn floor. Maybe opening Rhett the next month while he’s in the chains (consensually ofc)?
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You have no idea how thankful I am that you saw my plea for help. I wanted to write this continuation so damn bad 😭Without further ado~ 🐺 Join my Birthday Bouquet Event! 💐
Chains jostle. A soft growl rumbles through the bedroom air, muffled by the soft material of what used to be a blindfold, now made into a makeshift gag. But Rhett's flashy warning is just that—a warning. 
One that you know is brought on by the full moon and not the nudge of your silicone tip pressing into him. His defiant hips wriggle, grumbling low in his throat, head twisting over his shoulder to glare at you with those glistening, golden eyes. But despite the way his foot kicks at the floor, he doesn't utter that one little word to make you stop. 
That fake cock head slips into him without further warning. 
His eyes flicker. Sweaty palms squeaking against the slick countertop. 
"There you go," you coo, sweet as can be, like he's a cute, cuddly puppy and not at high risk of taking a bite out of you. But if you had to get bitten by someone...
Rhett jerks backward without a hint of warning. Chains squealing as he all but shoves himself down onto your strap, his warm ass flush against your hips. A pitchy cry bursts through the gag, his head dropping down into his bound forearms. 
"You're gonna hurt yourself, sweet boy," your frown audible in your tone, reaching down to feel where your pastel pink toy disappears into him, swollen and hopelessly stretched. 
He doesn't have much of a response to that, either. Those wolfish ears flicker on top of his head, twisting and turning, picking up every little noise. 
But he does react when you carefully draw backward. 
His chest flattens against the counter. Long hair splaying out, hands clawing at the edge—a breathtaking sight for such little effort. It's the kind of thing that has you snapping back into him quicker than planned, jostling him further up the counter. A shiver ripples up his spine, pushing back to meet your next thrust, a little puff of air slipping out of him as your skin slaps together. 
"Is that the spot?" Because you think you just caught wind of a mewl, some quiet little noise that you nearly miss entirely. But just because you asked a question doesn't mean you're gonna get a response. "Talk to me, Rhett."
His head bops with a nod, "Uhuh." 
You reckon that's the last noise he makes before his knees begin to shake, and he dissolves into a pitiful puddle of noises. 
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Note
I'm more of a draw-er than a writer so just shooting you a prompt idea if you ever feel inclined. With all the warging I keep thinking about the idea of a Freaky Friday/Body Switch theme with Arya and Sansa. Maybe it lets Sansa get to know another side of Jon && maybe Arya gets to meet Gendry because of it, but mostly cute sister bonding which you are so so so good at. Anywho do with this what you will, I love your writing and thanks for being awesome <3
First of all, I'm so jealous of people who can draw! My mom is an artist but the drawing gene skipped me (& my sister).
Second, this was a fun prompt! I wrote it in about an hour last night before going to bed, so please ignore any grammar/continuity errors.
Third, I made it take place in the 90s for some reason? Also, as a note, "Sansa-Arya" means Sansa in Arya's body, and "Arya-Sansa" means Arya in Sansa's body. Hope it doesn't get too confusing?
read it on ao3 here: ephemera, chapter 33
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Sansa wakes in Arya's bed.
She frowns, confused, unsure how she got here.
Last night, they'd had a massive fight about... honestly, Sansa can't even remember how it started. But then again, they'd never needed a real reason to start fighting. All it ever took was one wrong word, one wrong look, and it would start. Maybe it was about Sansa trying to make everyone go outside to see the shooting star that was supposed to happen.
What Sansa does remember is storming off, her mother following her while dad went after Arya. She remembers bursting into hysterical tears and screeching, “she has no idea what it's like to be me!” A bit overdramatic, Sansa realizes now with a wince.
But that doesn't answer why she's in Arya's room. She sits up and rubs at her eyes which are... Sansa blinks, because she can see perfectly fine. Did she sleep in her contacts? She's usually so good about not doing that.
She swings her legs off the bed and she looks down and blanches at the state of her feet. She swore she just repainted her nails, but now they aren't, they're bluntly cut, and there's callouses on her big toes that Sansa would never allow.
She's also wearing Arya's pajamas.
Well, they aren't pajamas, really. Arya sleeps in sweatpants or shorts and a tee, it's Sansa who buys pajama sets, usually with a cute pattern. Her newest is little ice cream cones in various pastel colors.
There's a slam from the direction of her room, through their shared bathroom, and Sansa frowns. Who's in her room?
She stands from the bed just as she hears the door to the bathroom open on her side, the light goes on under the door, and there's a shriek. Then the door to Arya's room bursts open and-
Sansa's mind is blank for a long time, as she stares at... herself.
“Stop doing that,” Sansa snaps as Arya keeps flinching away from the mascara wand.
“This is ridiculous,” Arya mutters. “Why do you do this to yourself?”
“Because I like it,” Sansa huffs, grabbing Arya's chin – her chin – and holding her head steady. “It makes me feel pretty.”
“You're pretty already,” Arya mutters again, eyes shifting to the side, and Sansa pauses. She debates telling Arya that she's pretty, too, but she doesn't think Arya would like that. She'd just say something mean, so Sansa keeps her mouth shut.
Finally, she finishes up the makeup, but she can't even tell if it's good or not. Not when she's looking at her face that isn't her face, because Arya's wearing it.
They tried to tell Robb what happened, he was the first person they found after they woke up in each other's bodies, and he'd only rolled his eyes and said, “well, at least you're getting along, but I'm not falling for that. Find someone more gullible.”
That's when they'd decided to keep this a secret – to pretend like they're normal, until they can figure out what happened. Which means they have to go to school as each other. Which means Arya-Sansa needs to wear makeup, and Sansa-Arya needs to dress in ratty old jeans and even rattier sneakers and carry around a skateboard.
Sansa prides herself on being able to handle any social situation, but going to their school as a freshman again as Arya makes her want to throw up. There's a scuffle over who should drive – Arya doesn't have her license yet – but when Sansa-Arya tries to get into the driver's seat, mom comes out shouting at them, so Arya-Sansa takes the keys with a grin and gets behind the wheel.
The drive to school nearly kills them, but Arya is cackling with glee the entire time as Sansa clings onto the door handle for dear life.
Then they have to part ways, and as Jeyne approaches, she watches Arya-Sansa's face shift into an expression of something akin to terror.
Sansa watches them go, hoping Arya doesn't tank her reputation.
Arya walks through the halls with Jeyne and Beth chattering in her ear. She can barely keep up with their gossip, she has no idea how Sansa handles it. When they get to their lockers, she quickly checks the numbers Sansa had written on a post-it, and puts in the code, thankful when the lock clicks open.
“I hear Joff's gonna be at the party this weekend,” Beth says, suggestion heavy in her voice.
Arya feels her lip curl, and she lets out a disgusted noise, which surprises both of Sansa's friends.
Stupid, Arya chides herself. Sansa would probably be over the moon about that.
“I know you said you weren't going to date him,” Jeyne sighs, “but why not? He's so dreamy.”
“I said that?” Arya asks, completely confused. Jeyne looks at her curiously, so Arya tries to recover. “Well, duh,” she gives what she hopes is a perfect Sansa eye-roll. “He's majorly gross.” There. That sounds like something Sansa might say. Majorly is her new favorite word.
“I can't believe you think he's gross,” Beth shakes her head. “He's gorgeous, and rich, and he's into you! I can't believe you wouldn't even go to the movies with him.”
That makes Arya pause getting her books out (trying to remember the classes Sansa wrote down. She could look, but she might have actually lost that post-it). Sansa turned down a date with Joffrey Baratheon? He rules the junior class, and Arya can already guess he'll be Junior Prom King, and next year, Senior Prom King. Being his queen seems right up Sansa's alley.
Maybe Robb talked to her, Arya muses, piling more books into her arm. Robb isn't a fan of Joffrey, maybe he made Sansa see sense.
Sansa being rational about boys, Arya scoffs to herself. There's something you don't see every day.
“Not skating today?” a boy asks, pulling up on his own and coming to an abrupt halt in front of where Sansa's sitting, and he steps on the edge of his skateboard so it flips up into his hand. He's massive and she has to squint up at him.
“I pulled a muscle,” Sansa says, trying to make herself sound as grumpy as Arya always sounds.
It's not hard, she's had a pretty bad day. While she was changing for gym, a couple girls had snickered behind their hands and told her she had the wrong locker room. “The boy's changing room is on the other side,” the one girl had sneered, eyeing Sansa-Arya with a disdain Sansa has never had directed at her.
Sansa had been so shocked, she hadn't known what to say, and the girls had gone out to start gym class.
And then the anger had started – does that happen often? And how dare they, she's the only one who's allowed to make fun of Arya. Well, her and their brothers. Sansa's going to find out who that girl is and ruin her social life.
“Sucks,” the boy says, bringing her back to the present, sitting next to Sansa on the bleachers. “I was hoping we could head to the skatepark today and try the new quarter pipe.”
Sansa blinks and stays silent, because she has no idea what half that sentence means. The boy's face goes a bit red and he rubs at the back of his neck with one hand.
“Or, I mean,” he says, nearly tripping over his words, “we don't have to.”
Huh, she thinks, some of her bad mood disappearing.
Sansa tilts her Arya-head at the boy and bats her eyelashes and the boy sputters even more, and Sansa has to physically keep herself from smiling.
“I've got to hang out with my dumb sister tonight,” she finally answers, making sure to put as much venom into the words as she can, though as she does, it makes her sad. She knows Arya hates her, that isn't new information. But still. If she didn't, maybe Sansa would know about this boy. Maybe she'd know his name.
Maybe she'd know about those girls in the locker room.
“Bummer,” the boy says. “Maybe some other time?”
The awkward way he's holding himself solidifies that this boy absolutely has a massive crush on her sister.
Interesting.
“Gendry?” Arya makes a face that Sansa does not like, because it's her face, and Arya's twisting it into something ugly.
“Is that his name?” Sansa asks innocently. “Well, whoever he is, I agreed to a date with him.”
“You what?” Arya jumps up, and it's strange to watch her own body pace the room.
It's a joke, Sansa wouldn't do that to her, but... well, Arya isn't reacting as poorly as she thought she would.
Oh.
Arya wants to go on a date with this Gendry boy.
Double interesting.
Arya storms down to the kitchen, and she can feel how hot her face is – Sansa's face is.
She can't believe she fell for Sansa's joke about the date with Gendry, and she's even more annoyed that Sansa thinks she'd even want to go on a date with him. He's a middling skateboarder, at best, and he's too calm all the time and he's too nice. Ugh. She'd never.
She pulls the pitcher of Kool-Aid out of the fridge and starts pouring herself a glass, when she hears the door to the basement open.
“Since when do you drink Kool-Aid?” a voice asks, and Arya-Sansa turns to see Jon standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a bemused look on his face. “You said it tastes like chemicals.”
When did Sansa say that, Arya wonders. It definitely sounds like something Sansa would say, but how in the world does Jon know that, or even remember it.
“I like the grape kind,” she makes herself shrug. To her annoyance, and surprise, Jon doesn't immediately leave at her cold tone.
“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into the kitchen and coming to stand at the counter next to her.
“I'm fine?” she says, but it comes out like a question, because Jon looks genuinely concerned.
Wait. Did Robb tell him about their body-swap? Does Jon believe it? Oh, thank god someone-
Jon looks around as if checking for anyone nearby, then he moves forward, and all of Arya's thoughts go blank as he slides his arm around her waist, and pulls her up against him. He's touching Sansa in a way he should not be touching Sansa.
“I heard Joffrey talking about some party this weekend and how he planned to...” Jon frowns, hard.
That's when Arya's brain finally kicks Sansa's body into gear, and she makes a strangled noise and places both hands on Jon's chest and pushes. “What are you doing?” she squeaks.
Jon looks confused. “Are you mad at me?” he asks, and there's that look he gets sometimes, like a kicked puppy. “What did I do?”
What is he talking about? Why would Sansa have any reason to be mad at Jon, and why would he even care?
“Is this because I didn't want to go see that Romeo and Juliet movie with you? Or is it because I said Leonardo DiCaprio is overrated? Because he is.”
Arya's brain is in full panic mode, so all she can do is squeak out, “yes,” before fleeing the kitchen, abandoning her Kool-Aid on the counter.
She runs back up to Sansa's room and slams open the door to find Sansa-Arya sitting on the bed reading a magazine, and she says, “you're dating Jon?” Her voice is too high-pitched, but she can't control herself right now.
She watches her own eyes go wide and panicked, and Sansa-Arya stands up abruptly, but she doesn't deny it.
She doesn't deny it.
Arya can't wrap her head around this.
Sansa had sat her down and told her some story – Joffrey trying to shove his hand up her skirt at Margaery Tyrell's party at the end of last year. Running all the way from Margaery's house to the nearest payphone. Calling home, only to have Jon answer because he was staying at their house that weekend while his mom was on a work trip. Jon coming to pick her up. Them sitting in his truck and talking late into the night. It had – in Sansa's words, which sounded utterly ridiculous coming out of Arya's mouth – turned into something more within the next few months.
The weird part is, Sansa and Jon dating isn't the thing she can't make her mind process.
It's the idea that Sansa had almost been assaulted at a party. She'd gone through this whole thing and Arya had no idea.
Because why would Sansa tell her? They don't tell each other anything.
“I'm sorry,” she says, and Sansa jerks back a bit in confusion. “About Joffrey,” she clarifies. “If I'd known, I'd...”
She doesn't know what she would have done, but she feels angry now. Probably punch him in the face.
“Oh,” Sansa says with a half shrug, and Arya recognizes that move, though usually Sansa's in her own body when it happens. It's the move, the tone of voice she uses, when someone brings up something she's embarrassed by.
The fact that Sansa's embarrassed by something Joffrey did makes Arya even angrier.
“By the way, Jon mentioned overhearing Joffrey talking about you and some party this weekend. Sounds like he's gonna try something again.”
Arya watches her own face frown. “I won't go,” she says.
“Or,” Arya counters, an idea coming to her. “You can borrow my pepper spray, and I can teach you some stuff from my Tae Kwon Do classes.”
She thinks Sansa will say no, but instead, she seems to consider it, and then a small smile appears on her lips and she says, “yeah, alright.”
“Are they fighting?” Rickon whispers, eyes wide as he and Bran stand paused in the hall outside their sister's door. There are noises like fighting coming from Sansa's room, except there's no shouting. In fact, Rickons' pretty sure he heard them laughing.
“Weird,” Bran says with a shrug, then continues down the hall. Rickon follows, and they've just made it to the bottom of the stairs when there's a mighty crash from upstairs.
Chaos happens then, and Rickon plasters himself against the wall as mom rushes up the stairs and lets out a noise of distress when she opens Sansa's door.
“Ned! Ned!” she shouts, which brings not just dad from his study, but also Robb and Jon from the basement. All of them rush upstairs, and Rickon and Bran look at each other, then follow.
Rickon can barely see into the room, but it looks like Sansa's massive bookshelf had toppled over. Dad and Robb and Jon are lifting it up and mom is on her knees, her shaky voice saying, “Sansa? Arya?”
Dad and Robb and Jon get the bookshelf moved away, and there's a groan from the pile of books that cover his sister's bodies.
The pile moves, and Arya sits up first, rubbing at her head. “Fucking hell,” Arya mutters, and Rickon knows something bad must have happened, because mom doesn't even yell at her for it.
“Sansa,” Jon says, kneeling down and pulling books away, face pale. Rickon doesn't think he's ever even seen Jon and Sansa speak to each other. Weird.
“I'm okay,” her voice says, small and muffled, but then she sits up, too. There's a big red mark on her forehead, like the start of a bruise, and Rickon thinks the shelf or a book must have hit her head pretty hard. Arya's still rubbing at her own head, too, like she also got hit.
“What happened?” mom cries, a hand on each of their cheeks, like she can't decide who she wants to check over first. Mom's always fussing like that.
“Arya was teaching me self defense and we knocked over...” Sansa frowns, then her eyes go wide and she says, “I mean, I was teaching Sa-” then she falters and looks over at Arya. Arya looks at her, and her eyes go big and round, too. They both look surprised to see each other.
Arya starts to laugh, she sounds really crazy, and she says, “oh man, I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I'm so happy to see your face.”
Sansa still looks shocked, but then she says, “we're back,” and starts giggling wildly, and then both of his sisters are just sitting there, laughing.
“I think we need to take them to the hospital,” dad says, and even though his sisters protest, Rickon watches from the window as mom and dad load them into the car.
Sweet, Rickon thinks. With mom and dad gone and Robb in charge, that means pizza for dinner.
“Pizza?” Rickon asks, barely bothering to wait until the car has pulled out of the drive.
Robb looks worried, and so does Jon. He still looks pretty pale, and Rickon thinks they're worrying too much. Arya and Sansa will be fine. They're both tough.
Robb and Jon ignore him, so Rickon lets out an annoyed huff and says louder, with more emphasis, “pizza?”
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The Debt~Part 4
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TW: Edging, smut, language, and sexual themes throughout. I do not own any of the characters but ask that you do not publish this fanfiction without my permission on any other platform. Please and thank you. 
Summary: You have decided to give Rafe a taste of his own medicine for his previous success at seduction in the form of frosting play and your own vulgarity…
Words: 2200
The Debt: Part Four
The memory of his skilled fingers training you for his touch and learning your reactions led you to remiss rather mundane tasks as you had begun to notice details of Rafe that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. Such elements consisted of the tensing of his jaw as he silently disagreed with Ward while discussing work to the way his plaid button-ups and pastel polos would silently cry to the mercy of his natural flex. It was enough to leave you nearly manic, but not enough to forget your plan to enact revenge in reference to your moment shared in that dressing room just over a week prior. And this moment would come in the later afternoon of that Sunday, crossing the threshold of the bakery to complete one of the final tasks of your dreaded wedding preparations.
“So here we have coconut and almond-a summer favorite among the locals-” The patissier began to discuss the flavors set between you and Rafe as your eyes came over the bite-sized sweets that lined a series of silver trays before you. But in your attempts to focus on the continuation of essences offered in a rather lively display of varying colors and aromas, you had to keep from lifting your eyes to one of those innocuous moments that left you wet with anticipation. The simple glide of his fingers pulling his sleeves to the bend of his elbows, conjured wicked visions of that strong forearm wrapping you against him as his fingers rode your slick strip in vicious relentlessness-
“Actually, she’s allergic to strawberries…” Your mother would answer for you, casting a momentary glance of annoyance for your mind recently plagued with sexual thoughts that ran pereptually endless behind your glossed over gaze. The interruption allowed you to redirect your focus all while he smirked, somehow well aware that the blush on your cheeks was because of him. That pompous little grin he wore whenever your eyes found him across the room had been visible for the last time…it was now time to enact your revenge… 
“And THIS is creme brulee?” You inquired, pulling a fork between your perfect petal lips, bringing your eyes to roll back into your head at the light vanilla flavor enhanced with notes of caramelized nuttiness. Even if it wasn’t a favorite to cross your palette, you mimicked the same actions you had within the confines of that dressing room, complete with a near Meg Ryan-styled public moan, before offering him a bite himself. Cocking a grin, he agreed, before you noticed how your mother looked to you with frustration and Sarah had in amusement; as if there was finally life within this necessary assignment. 
“Maybe there’s something other than cake…” Your mother rose to her feet, followed by Sarah and now Rose, who returned from arranging the finances of what you would eventually decide on, as Rafe released a scoff once you were left alone with him, as he was anything but impressed. 
“I know what you’re trying to do…”
“Yeah…eating cake…” You answered aloud, rather dismissively, playing innocent, while drawing a bite of chocolate ganache between your fingers and between your lips. You noticed how his eyes followed the lines of your fingers and contortion of your face, nearly orgasmic in the rush of chocolate overload across your tongue, feeling as if you were affecting him in some way. But his words would claim otherwise. 
“It’s going to take a little bit more than that, sweetheart…” He waged, pulling a lemon pineapple sponge cake to his own lips, as you realized his words were true. Rafe Cameron had women from every level of experience slip through his bed sheets, leading you to realize that you needed more than battling lashes and your teeth captured between your lips to garner the desired reaction. And that was just what you would accomplish…
Just before that bite of canary hued confection came to his lips, you wrapped your fingers swiftly over his pliable wrists before leading it to your mouth. Drawing the frosting clad fingers between your teeth, you kept his gaze while allowing your thumb to swirl the tip of his digit until it was entirely consumed. Watching his Adam’s apple rise and collapse in a troubled swallow, you slowly pulled his touch from your mouth, pride omitting from your expression as his words were now untrue; as it didn’t take much to affect him at all. 
At the very second his lips parted to speak of what you could have bet anything to be something dripping with dominance, the girls returned to the table with a new array of treats to try. All while discussing the difference between cupcakes, cake pops, and candy, you could feel Rafe observing you in a way that was somewhere between awe and fractured patience. The continuation of your pride was evident in the smile effervescent across your face-annoying in and arousing him in equal measure; but tormenting him above all else. And yet, that look of irritation was not enough in comparison to the heaving mess he left you in with your last exchange. You wanted him insatiable…desperate…manic…
“This one is red velvet?” You questioned, using the words as an excuse to lean forward against the table, pulling the cake pop from its navy blue stand, all as a mirage to the slip of your fingers over his tensing thigh. 
“Do you want a taste?” You inquired, looking back at him, finding those gorgeous features to clench as you inched closer to his inseam covered beneath the table cloth, as his silence acted as his answer, and you returned at rest in your chair. Without much of a say on the decision to go with cupcakes over cake itself as your wedding party discussed the details before you, your fingers wasted no time to unbutton your fiance’s belt to find him eagerly rigid beneath your touch.
In the attempt he made to speak your name in warning, you clutched him abruptly, bringing his knees to rise quickly beneath the table, forcing every set of eyes to him as you shamelessly continued to coax his impressive shaft from base to tip. As quickly as this sudden attention made his cheeks temporarily blush, it was then disregarded as he looked to you with a heavy pair of lust blown eyes. 
“Rafe? Are you-” Sarah began to question once noticing the way his eyes would screw shut and his chest rose as if in pain, while you lubricated his impressive shaft in the release of his precum endorsing your kind offer of pleasure. 
“Eat your fucking cake.” He huffed as you appeared indifferent by taking a sip of your champagne to shield the level of satisfaction in knowing what you were getting away with literally right under their noses. 
As those who joined you in attendance began to collect their purses and sweaters, you leaned into him, applying the perfect amount of speed and pressure; “You’re so close, aren’t you, Rafe?” He answered only with a slow nod, eyes closed, as he brought his hips to meet the difference in your actions and what he needed. But as the eyes of your guests believed he was simply reclining from a full stomach, you held the intent to leave him anything but satisfied. 
“I love how you feel…So hard…So big…all for me…I bet you want my lips around you…You want me choking on you…” You grinned to your own words as he struggled to steady his breath, feeling him tense further, the veins of his shaft hungry for the release approaching rather quickly, as he appeared simply uncomfortable to the eyes that made note of his groans. 
“I want you to come for me…” His teeth clenched hard enough that he believed they might shatter, the praise of your words bringing his hand to wrap in a painful grip around your wrist, leading you to pump him as he saw fit. 
“Fuck…” He breathed stealthily within an exhale, unheard by those now halfway to the door, as he carried his fingers around the armrests on either side of him, knuckles white in the beginning tension of his coming release. For just a moment you had considered allowing him to come as the thought of him left stained in his own excess would be punishment in itself, but having been left in lackluster abandonment yourself, you wanted him to suffer to the greatest degree. 
“I’m…” He began to worn, struggling to mutter as you smirked, grinning against his ear. 
“Frustrating…isn’t it?” The warmth of your grip abandoned the painful pulsation of his cock; swollen, red, and needy exclusively for your touch. And yet, where you expected him to rise and storm away in anger, possibly even pulling you over the table into a bend in shamelessness, his eyes would only rise to you in silent disapproval. You ignored everything layered behind his gaze; the resentment, the desperation, the pleading, and even the quiet curses, until you were summoned to take your leave by your mother, doing so in a final tease of bending at his side so he could make out the fact that you ‘forgot’ your panties. 
Unable to fully pull the passenger side of your mother’s Cadenza open, your wrist was suddenly captured by a familiar grasp of someone’s aggressive strength you knew all too well. Unfit against his force and speed, you were taken to alleway separating the bakery from its neighboring buildings, finding the cold stone of the wall to meet your spine. 
“You want to play games, sweetheart?” The excitement was palpable behind your eyes as a smile came over your lips to accept his challenge, his eyes flashing to them for only a moment. His hand suddenly rose to your hair, pulling a gasp from your grin, as he turned you-breasts flat, against the harsh stone. 
“You think it’s funny? You think I’m joking?” Suddenly the skirt of the dainty sundress you were specifically to torment him was bunched in his large grasp as the other rounded your hip and rested against the hip where your panties would have rested as the other remained embedded in your locks. 
“You think you can dress like a whore yet act so innocent? You think I won’t make you scream until everyone can hear you all the way to The Cut knows who can make you come?”
“Rafe-” You spoke his name in an attempt to rival him, but knew better than to try and do so in repetition as his grip became harsh on your hip., 
“Nuh-uh…You want to play…Let’s play…” Without warning, his middle finger plunged between your thighs, pulling a groan from your lips while your nails curved around to his hips, eating into the fabric of his shorts. That grip within your hair pulled your hair back until you were in a forced rest against the recess of his shoulder. 
“You want to come, don’t you? You want me to make you come, baby?” Your lips parted in the lack of care in your moans, well aware those sweet little noises only motivated him further. You bucked against his motivations, groaning in an exchange of curses and his name as he suddenly turned you to face him, his finger returning to you as your mouth hung agape in anticipation. Pistoning into you as you bowed into him, that hand recently on your hip, now came to your jaw and at a rest on your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you question if he would cross that line of erotic to dangerous; as he was skilled in taunting those blurred lines. 
“The first time I make you come, it will be on my cock as I’m buried deep inside of you…Do you understand?” He slowed his fingers, now more aggressive for confirmation by speaking your name in a wrathful raise of his voice. 
“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” His fingers continued those agonizing patterns that pulled your release to its edge. The same hand, lined with your scent, was granted your submission by the simple bob of your head. 
“Good girl.” Your knees weakened to his praise as his name was suddenly summoned by Ward. 
“You have no idea what you’re in for, sweetheart…” He began to lead his weight into a stride of confidence back around the way he had led you, locking your eyes just long enough to watch him pull your close release from his fingers until he inhabited you completely behind his smirk.
“Neither do you…” He was amused by your remark, before turning to leave you in shambles once again; only this time, with the motivations necessary to rival someone like Rafe Cameron; whose fingers were as vile as his words, but damn, how he could use both to make you tremble…But oh the plans you had for him...
PART 5 COMING SOON!!
Taglist: @hopebaker​
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melodythebunny · 9 months
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New neighbors Au - Wordgirl x Welcome home chapter 1
"Today was pretty okay."
"Speak for yourself, art class was a pain! Everyone else was making wonderful art pieces, meanwhile I couldn't even draw lines or scribble."
Becky and Chase were walking home from school with bob. Becky was a bit miffed about an upcoming art project. Chase and Bob looked at her with sympathy. Art had always been one of her weak spots.
"I don't know what I should do for the next art project. That's going to be 30 percent of my grade for that class." She continued, frowning. She usually asked her friend Violet for help since she was the best at it. But Violet had been out sick this week. She didn't want to bug her friend while she was feeling unwell.
"If it was an essay I'm sure you would have no problem writing it." Chase said. Bob chirped in agreement. The lexiconian sighed. Words were the easiest thing for her. It didn't matter the language, she could easily say the words definition and origins. She was also a very punctual writer. "Yeah. But I'm also a bit glad I have three weeks before it's due." She had asked the teacher for extra time to work on the project. The teacher knowing how she struggled in the class gave her the extension.
As they continued walking something caught Chase's eye. He paused. "Hey. Look." He gestured towards a rather old looking building. The sign upfront said 'antiques and more!' "we could probably look in here for some inspiration" he suggested. Becky and Bob stopped walking to see what he was talking about. It was across the street.
"Yeah we could try that." Becky said with a nod. They waited until the road was clear before crossing. Opening the door to the shop, they heard a small 'ding!' as they entered.
"Whoa…"
Inside was Impossibly small, with a cramped aisle with the shelves packed high with random trinkets, books and the like. The air smelled faintly like mint. The dim lighting from the dust covered windows added to the cluttered feel.. But despite that, it felt also cozy…nostalgic even.
Something caught the siblings' attention. They moved closer to see it.
It was a four story dollhouse. The outside walls were pastel pink, resting on a green fuzzy mat. A miniature blue and red car parked outside of it. Inside the house was a kitchen, living room, bath room, a bedroom with three beds and a hallway that led upstairs. The upstairs was a big black room, the story above that one seemed to be a white room. Then an attic where a lone piano sat. There were three figurines that sat in the kitchen. A yellow looking one, a red yarn looking one and a green duck.
"DON'T TOUCH THAT!"
Suddenly a hand came to close the dollhouse. Becky, Bob and Chase looked up in surprise. A middle aged woman looked at them sternly. Noticing them jump, her face softened.
"My apologies for frightening you three." the lady said. "But that house isn't for sale. It's rather precious to me."
Chase was the first one to recover. "It's okay, miss. We were just looking around."
She nodded. "Ah, I see then. Let me know if you guys find anything that catches your attention." Becky gave one last glance at the dollhouse before turning her attention to the nearby shelves. She found many old books. Blowing the dust off of them to get a better view of them. Bob and Chase also took to looking at the items on the shelves.
Looking through a box, Chase found an old VHS tape. The labeling was a bit worn but he could make out most of the texts and pictures. The tape was titled Welcome Home with a friendly yellow, blue haired puppet smiling warmly. He seemed to be in the middle of painting. Overall it seems to be some sort of old children's show.
'That's adorable,' Chase thought. 'Blu would like this.' he then saw a rather new looking teddy bear. He knew she wanted another one since her last one got shredded by squeaky. Checking the prices he realizes he only had enough for one thing. He reached for the teddy bear.
A few moments later, the three walked out with some books and the VHS tape.
@blueweirdness @dualnaturedscientist @liloskull343 @lartmacabre @ninjastormhawkkat
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miidnighters · 1 day
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GET TO KNOW THE MUN.
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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?
so way back in the day when I was rping on forums I was on this one vampire vs werewolf forum that probably had the very very first iteration of Bella? and then I came here and got my start with canons but I was picking the most obscure canons that were essentially OC's anyway. my first RPC OC here was actually not Bella but an acrobat named Wings, IIRC. All the others spiralled after that.
ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?
listen. i am a soft bean. Anything with like, heavy angst, explicit horror, some physical fighting stuff is not really my cup of tea - partially because it's not my cup of tea to read so writing it doesn't come naturally to me
ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?
i love anything that lets me explore my characters, whether that's backstory in a shipping/slice of life sense or exploring something new, in new verses or in different situations. I'm pretty open to most things tbh
ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?
I don't make a lot of headcanons tbh? but a lot of them I think up early in the morning while my mind is just kind of drifting, or while driving
ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?
i am a big music girl - i do everything with music lmao.
ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?
i would say 95% of the time I just wing it, which reflects my general preference in rp for going with the flow over hard and fast plotting. that said, quite often I will read a reply and think immediately "x character is going to do or say this in response to that" and obsess over that detail until I can write it down.
ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?
so much ! I don't necessarily go into every interaction expecting a ship but I do think there are some you can pick straight away as having insane chemistry and some that develop over time, even if you're not trying. of course, jumping straight into it is fun but I usually chat ooc about that first
ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?
brodie ! I never stuck to any sort of alias lmao
ᴀɢᴇ?
thirty
ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?
6 August
ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?
pastels - butter yellow, baby pink, so on
ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?
i rotate thru songs tbh. State of Me by Meghan Tonjes is always up there. Moon Trance by Lindsey Stirling. Save Me or Moon by BTS. Heartbeat by Nightcore was my top song of last year and North Star by Tyler Shaw the year before (it came 4th in 2023). So many honestly
ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?
It was probably actually Knives Out with my dad like a fortnight ago but as I'm typing this I remember I watched the TSwift Eras movie since then but I'm not sure that counts cos I cried thru the whole thing
ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?
We've been watching Physical 100 s2 the last couple of nights
ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?
Twin Flame - Brennan Story
ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?
mash potato and gravy tbh
ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?
i like autumn tbh, but becasue winter is too cold, summer is too hot, and spring has birds that swoop you and draw blood
ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?
i'm going to say no. I have quite a number of dear friends that I've made through rp and who I hope I would continue to talk to if one or both of us left rp but I'm not going to pick just one lmao
tagged by: no one! I stole this from @abysswarden 😘
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