#but i finally made it presentable at least

[minaawritesss]

Part,2, part,3

summary:your too much for Paige too love

pairing:Paige bueckers x reader

warnings:angst,reader is lowk emotionally unstable the best I can describe idk,crying, it gets a little deep.

It had only been a week since you and Paige had broken up, but time had stretched into something unbearable, something cruel. She had said she couldn’t love you,that it was too hard,and those words split you open in ways you hadn’t known you could still break. You’d heard variations of it before, from people who swore they cared: you’re too broken, too much trauma, too insecure, too full of PTSD, too heavy with depression. Always too much. Always not enough of the right kind of person someone could love.

But Paige had been different or at least you thought she was. With her, you’d found something you hadn’t felt in years: calm. She smiled at you like the sun itself had chosen to linger, and in those moments the shadows inside you seemed to shrink. For the first time in forever, your depression eased. The dark spirals slowed. You weren’t “cured,” but you felt human, felt real. And for a while, you were happy.

Then the flashbacks came back two weeks ago, uninvited and merciless. They dragged you under with hands of memory, suffocating you in moments you had tried so hard to bury. You cried at night, muffling it in your pillow, desperate to keep Paige from noticing. You didn’t want her to see how broken you still were. You didn’t want to give her a reason to leave.

But she noticed anyway. She showed up at your place one day, a surprise check-in, and found you mid-breakdown eyes red, chest heaving. And in that moment, everything spilled out. Every secret, every scar, every fear you had buried deep, poured from your mouth like poison you could no longer contain. And the more you confessed, the more you knew what was coming. You saw it in the way her gaze softened into something distant, the way her hands trembled slightly, unsure whether to reach for you or retreat.

After that, she started to fade. She texted less, called less. She looked at you but never quite into you. And then, one morning, it came. A text. A few cold lines where warmth used to live. She ended it.

That week you didn’t leave your room. Not once. You barely ate, only sipped water when your throat ached too much from crying. Your body ached, but it was nothing compared to the hollowness inside. Paige had been your anchor, your sunbeam in endless night. She had been your reason to stay alive. And now she was gone.

When you finally forced yourself out of your dorm and onto campus, the world felt wrong, every sound too sharp, every face too bright. And then you saw her.

Paige.

She wasn’t alone.

Walking beside her was a girl who looked like the very idea of summer,blonde hair that shimmered like gold, a sundress that swayed with the breeze, sandals clicking against the pavement. She glowed, radiant in a way that made everyone glance twice. She was Paige’s opposite of you,her light to the shadows you carried.

And worst of all, Paige smiled at her. That same smile that used to be yours. That same warmth that once made you feel chosen, cherished. Paige didn’t even look your way as you passed, though you could feel the ghost of her laughter, the knife of her joy that no longer belonged to you.

Your stomach twisted. You thought you might throw up. Every step felt like your legs would collapse beneath you. By the time you stumbled into the nearest campus bathroom, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You broke.

You slammed the stall door shut, pressed your back against the wall, and let the tears consume you. They weren’t just tears they were sobs torn from a body that couldn’t hold the grief any longer. Your chest burned, your stomach churned, your head pounded. Every nerve screamed, every thought repeated the same bitter loop: you ruined it. You ruined everything.

If you hadn’t let the past leak into the present. If you hadn’t been so weak. If you hadn’t burdened her with the mess of who you were. Paige could’ve stayed. She could’ve loved you still. But instead, she’d left—and she’d found someone brighter, someone easier to love, someone who wasn’t drowning in their own shadows.

You hated yourself for it. For existing like this. For never being enough.

A soft knock jolted you from your spiral.

“Hey… you okay in there?” a voice asked. Gentle, unfamiliar.

You dragged your sleeve across your face, trying to erase the evidence. “Yeah,” you lied, voice raw. “I’m fine.”

You pushed yourself up, legs shaking, and stepped out of the stall. You avoided eye contact, went straight to the sink, and washed your hands as if the running water could cleanse the ruin of who you were. Then you left without another word, slipping past the stranger, past the concern, back into the world that didn’t feel like it had a place for you anymore.

And from that day forward, you made yourself a promise.

You would never open your heart again. You would never give anyone the chance to see the broken pieces inside you, to use them as an excuse to leave. Relationships weren’t for people like you. Love wasn’t for people like you.

And deep down, you decided you could never be fully loved.

Was feeling kinda sad, y'all like it??,also if you have a idea of what I should write next pls request!.

[xalltheseyearsx2]

The Final Whistle

Chapter 23: Christmas

Alessia Russo x OFC

It was Christmas Eve, and Izzy was a bundle of nerves. Alessia had asked her to come spend Christmas with her family, and while Izzy had fully intended to keep to her usual routine of being alone, she couldn’t bring herself to say no. Not to Alessia. So instead of curling up in her flat with takeaway and a film, she was pacing around with her bag packed, waiting for Alessia to arrive so they could drive down to Kent together.

It was only about an hour’s drive, but Izzy, ever prepared, had packed snacks, drinks, and even a playlist, because the idea of doing something normal and domestic like a Christmas road trip with Alessia made her chest ache in a way she wasn’t used to.

Her phone buzzed. “Okay, I’m leaving now. I’ll be at yours in like fifteen minutes,” Alessia’s voice came through, warm and casual.

Izzy hummed distractedly, half in the conversation and half checking every corner of her flat for something she might’ve forgotten. She rummaged in the bathroom, pulling open the cabinet, and paused. The only toothbrush in there, other than her own, was Alessia’s spare. Nestled right where it always was when she stayed over.

“Yep, see you in fifteen,” Izzy said, distracted as she stared at the small but meaningful object.

“Okay, bye. I love you.”

Izzy froze.

The call clicked off before she could respond. Her head shot up too quickly, smacking the cabinet door, but she barely felt the sting. Her heart was pounding. Had Alessia really just said it? The words hung in her ears, louder than anything. I love you.

Had it been an accident? A slip of the tongue? Did she mean it?

Izzy stood there, toothbrush forgotten, her cheeks heating. She tried to shake it off, but she knew it was going to sit in the back of her mind all weekend, tugging at her thoughts.

At least she’d had the good sense to log out of social media. The endless stream of criticism, the nasty messages, the doctored clips that made her look worse than she was, it had been eating her alive. No one on the team seemed to notice, not even Alessia, and Izzy hadn’t told them. If no one else thought it was a big deal, maybe it wasn’t. Still, she wasn’t going to ruin Christmas. This was her chance to escape the noise, to just… breathe.

A honk outside snapped her out of her spiral. Her phone pinged with a message: Here :) x

Izzy grabbed her bag and hurried down, only to find Alessia standing at the boot of her car, grinning in that sunshine way of hers, Santa hat perched jauntily on her head. She’d even strung a line of fairy lights across the dashboard.

“You love Christmas too much,” Izzy laughed, shoving her bag into the boot.

Alessia winked and jogged around to open the passenger door for her. Izzy ducked inside, holding back a blush at the small, chivalrous gesture.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Alessia hummed, “Or maybe you don’t like Christmas enough.”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “Forgive me for being a grinch. I’ve only spent it alone for the past five years.” Her tone was light, but Alessia’s answering smile was soft, almost protective.

“Well, all that changes now,” Alessia said firmly. Her hand slipped onto Izzy’s thigh as she started the engine. “By the end of this, you’ll love Christmas as much as I do.”

Izzy’s heart stuttered. She wanted to believe her. Maybe she already did.

The car filled with Christmas songs and the faint smell of the cinnamon air freshener Alessia had wedged into the cup holder. They didn’t mention the accidental “I love you,” but the silence around it felt charged, like both of them were aware but waiting. Instead, they talked about everything else, Alessia running through her family’s Christmas traditions, the chaos of her brothers, the excitement of her baby niece attempting to open presents.

“I should warn you,” Alessia added, smirking. “The house is full, so I booked us a hotel nearby.”

Izzy snorted. “You just wanted me in a bed away from your family.”

Alessia laughed, throwing her a sly look. “Maybe that too. Besides, I might have a little Christmas surprise planned.”

Izzy flushed instantly, turning her gaze out the window, but Alessia just laughed again, her thumb brushing in soft circles over Izzy’s thigh. And for the first time in weeks, Izzy’s chest felt light.

When they arrived, the house was pure Christmas chaos. The kind of chaos Izzy had only ever seen in films. Terrible Christmas songs blared from a speaker in the corner, the smell of roasted vegetables and something sweet in the oven wrapped around her like a blanket, and wrapping paper littered the floor from earlier gift-wrapping battles. Boxes of decorations were stacked half-open, fairy lights spilling out like tangled ribbons.

Izzy barely had time to take it all in before she was swept into a crushing hug from Carol, who smelled faintly of cinnamon and perfume. Then Luca and Giorgio appeared, practically tackling her in a double hug, and Mario clasped her hand firmly, giving it a shake like she was already family.

“So, about the game against Man U—” Mario began, only to be cut off by Alessia’s exasperated groan.

“Dad! No football talk over Christmas,” she whined, swatting his arm.

Mario raised his hands in mock defence, grinning. “Alright, alright.”

Izzy managed a breathless laugh, waving to Luca’s wife, Lauren, who cradled their baby girl. The last time Izzy had seen them properly was in Italy, but back then the little one had been just two months old. Now she was six months and much more alert, her big eyes blinking up at Izzy as if she was already assessing her.

“Uh… so Izzy and I wanted to tell you something,” Alessia said suddenly, making Izzy’s head snap around. Her eyes widened, panic sparking, but Alessia’s hand found hers, grounding her.

“Oh, we’re doing this now,” Izzy muttered under her breath, but she straightened up, standing firm beside her.

“We’re together,” Alessia announced, her chin high, though her cheeks flushed pink.

There was a beat of silence, before Carol smiled knowingly. “Sweetheart, we know. We were just waiting for you to be ready to tell us.”

“I mean…” Mario added casually, “you two became inseparable during the Euros, you invited her to Italy at the last minute, you kept sneaking off for little dates and, well, we all saw you kissing in the sea.”

Izzy’s lungs forgot how to function. She choked on air as Luca and Gio burst into snickers behind them.

Alessia gaped. “You- what?!”

Carol just shook her head fondly. “Don’t worry, we approve. You picked a good one. If she can keep your dad entertained on holiday, then she’s better than most people I know.”

Before either of them could form words, Carol clapped her hands. “Right, Luca, kitchen duty with me.” She swept out, dragging half the household in her wake, leaving Izzy and Alessia stunned and blinking at one another.

“…Were we really that obvious?” Izzy whispered.

“Apparently,” Alessia mumbled back, still looking dazed.

-

Later, Izzy found herself in the kitchen with Alessia and Lauren, the three of them rolling up their sleeves to make Christmas cookies. Carol had left them to it, Christmas music humming in the background as laughter filled the warm little space.

“Oh my god, this is so much sugar,” Izzy laughed as Lauren and Alessia poured almost an entire bag into the bowl.

“You did bring your insulin, right?” Alessia teased, bumping her shoulder playfully.

Izzy snorted, shoving her gently, cheeks warm with laughter she hadn’t felt in months.

At some point, Alessia leaned over and caught sight of cookie dough smudged on Izzy’s cheek. Without hesitation, she kissed it off, humming exaggeratedly. “Mmm, sweet.”

Izzy’s whole body flushed, and Lauren turned away with a grin, clearly giving them a moment.

When the cookies finally went into the oven, Alessia excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Izzy and Lauren tidying up. The comfortable buzz of the house carried in from the other room, shouts of football trivia from Gio, Carol’s laughter, the baby squealing, and for the first time, Izzy felt something she hadn’t in years. Belonging.

Lauren bumped her shoulder lightly. “You know, soon enough we’re going to be in-laws together. We better stick together if we want to survive this lot.”

Izzy let out a laugh, her chest aching in that tender way again. “I think I’ve got a lot of work to do before I get the privilege of being part of this family.”

Lauren tilted her head, serious now. “I’ve known Lessi for a long time. I’ve seen her with exes. She’s never looked at them the way she looks at you.”

Izzy’s hands stilled in the sudsy sink, her heart racing.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Lauren smiled warmly. “Welcome to the Russo family.”

Izzy turned back to the sink, pretending to scrub a bowl, but her vision blurred with tears she refused to let fall. For the first time in a long time, the ache in her chest felt less like loneliness, and more like hope.

-

Alessia was a grounding force throughout the entire day. When they sat down for dinner and Izzy felt her leg bouncing restlessly under the table, Alessia leaned in close, whispering something soft just for her. Her warm hand settled gently on Izzy’s thigh, stilling her nerves, before sliding down to intertwine their fingers beneath the tablecloth. The simple touch worked better than any deep breath ever could.

Later, when everyone moved to decorate the tree, Alessia was still there. Izzy sat cross-legged on the floor with a box of ornaments, turning them over carefully. Many were frayed, painted unevenly, or missing bits of glitter, but each carried years of memory.

“Oh my god, I made that one when I was in Year 2,” Alessia giggled, holding up a crooked wooden Santa whose red paint had long faded.

The sound of her laughter tugged something deep in Izzy’s chest. These ornaments had been loved for decades, pulled out every year and placed with pride. Meanwhile, all of her own childhood mementos were probably hidden away in some dusty box, or destroyed entirely. The ache of it was sharp, but softened when Alessia sat close, nudging her shoulder gently.

Carol appeared soon after with a photo album, settling between them on the sofa. Page after page revealed Alessia’s childhood: gap-toothed grins, pigtails flying as she kicked a football, and scribbly drawings from school. Izzy leaned in, wide-eyed, cooing and laughing at each picture while Alessia explained them like they’d happened yesterday.

“You were such a cute kid,” Izzy teased, her grin never fading.

“Us Russos, we make cute kids,” Luca chimed in from across the room, winking as he bounced his baby girl on his arm.

The room erupted in laughter, but Izzy froze. Her gaze shot to Alessia, whose cheeks pinked under the teasing. The implication wrapped tightly around Izzy’s heart. A future. A family. Kids with Alessia. She swallowed hard, her face warm, before quickly pointing at the next photo in the album, desperate to mask the thought thundering in her chest.

But later that night, Izzy couldn’t mask her emotions. Carol pressed a red stocking into her hands, her name stitched carefully across the top.

“Family tradition, we all get one,” Carol said warmly.

Izzy’s throat tightened instantly, her eyes burning. She blinked hard, trying to play it off with a quick swipe of her sleeve. “Sorry, I just… I haven’t had one since I was a kid.”

Carol’s arms were around her before she could say more, hugging her close with the kind of warmth Izzy hadn’t felt in years. “Well, you have one now,” she whispered, holding her like she meant it.

Izzy looked up, searching, and found Alessia watching her. The look on her face made Izzy’s breath catch. It was soft, unguarded, and terrifying in its honesty. Pure, unshakable love. Izzy wasn’t sure she’d ever been loved like that before, and the realisation nearly undid her.

-

That night in their hotel room, everything felt lighter. Izzy’s chest, usually heavy with worry, seemed to float. She had never ended Christmas eve so… happy.

They woke up the next morning still smiling, clad in the matching Christmas pyjamas Alessia had insisted they wear.

“I wanted to do gifts here, just us,” Alessia said, bouncing out of bed with a kind of childlike excitement that made Izzy laugh. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out three neatly wrapped boxes.

The first held a pair of bright new Predators, Alessia explaining with mock-seriousness that they were “the best boots out there” and would “guarantee her luck on the pitch.”

The second was a bottle of perfume, Alessia blushing as she admitted she loved the smell of it on Izzy.

But the third gift made Izzy’s throat tighten: a framed photo of the two of them at Izzy’s first Arsenal match. Both of them were beaming, joy written across their faces so clearly it almost glowed from the frame.

“It’s my favourite picture of us,” Alessia whispered, biting her lip nervously.

Izzy hugged it to her chest, her heart aching in the best way.

“Okay, my turn,” Izzy said nervously, fumbling with a poorly wrapped package. “I’ve been working on the sentimental side, but this was… really hard to get. I hope you like it.”

Alessia ripped the paper eagerly, only to stop dead. Inside was an Arsenal shirt with her name and her lucky number seven. But what made her eyes widen, her breath stutter, was the messy scrawl across the front.

“…Is that Messi’s signature?”

“Yep,” Izzy grinned, almost sheepishly. “While we were at the Ballon d’Or ceremony, I tracked him down. Nearly got flattened by security, but he was actually really nice about it.”

Alessia’s jaw dropped. “Izzy!” she squealed, throwing her arms around her. “I love it, thank you so much.”

She kissed her then, soft and lingering, pouring her gratitude and giddy joy into it.

Izzy rambled nervously against her lips, “I remembered you saying he was the one you looked up to as a kid, so I just thought-”

Alessia pulled back, pressing her forehead to Izzy’s, whispering, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

And just like that, Christmas morning didn’t feel so scary anymore.

-

The festivities carried on late into the night at the Russo household. Dinner stretched into laughter-filled dessert, the table laden with cakes and biscuits that had Izzy discreetly taking extra insulin. Carol fussed, Alessia teased, and the boys tried to out-sing one another when carols turned into impromptu karaoke. There was dancing in the living room, Luca twirling his wife around with their baby perched happily on his hip, while Mario tried (and failed) to teach Izzy a clumsy waltz.

By the time someone suggested a walk to see the neighborhood lights, the air outside was cold enough to bite, but no one minded. They bundled into coats, scarves, and hats, spilling out into the frosty night. The family walked ahead, voices carrying as they pointed out elaborate displays, but Izzy and Alessia hung back, falling into their own quiet world. Their gloved hands swung lazily between them, their arms brushing now and then.

“Thank you for giving this to me, Lessi,” Izzy said softly, her gaze lingering on the glow of lights reflecting in Alessia’s eyes. “This is the best Christmas I think I’ve ever had.”

Alessia’s smile was tender but certain. “This is one of many more, Iz.”

The confidence in her tone made Izzy’s chest ache in the best way. She stopped walking, tugging Alessia to a halt with her. Confused, Alessia turned back, only for Izzy to close the space and kiss her, fierce and passionate, pouring every ounce of gratitude and love into the press of their lips. Alessia melted into it immediately, humming softly as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

When they broke apart, breath puffed in the cold air between them. Izzy reached up, tugging Alessia’s hat down a little more snugly over her ears. Her voice was a whisper, but it carried in the still night.

“I’m in love with you, Alessia Russo.”

Alessia’s grin spread so wide Izzy swore it could outshine the Christmas lights. “I’m in love with you too, Izzy Fielding. So much.” She kissed her again, slower this time, lingering like she never wanted to let go.

When they finally parted, Izzy laughed softly, her heart racing. “Did you mean to say it on the phone yesterday?”

Alessia groaned, closing her eyes dramatically. “I was hoping you didn’t notice. It just slipped out.”

Izzy squeezed her hand tighter. “I’m glad it did. Because it gave me the courage to say it today.”

-

Later that night, back at the hotel, Izzy was sprawled across the bed in an oversized shirt and underwear, half-watching a movie while munching through the tin of food Carol had insisted they take. The room smelled faintly of cinnamon and pine, and Izzy was perfectly content, until the bathroom door opened.

Her jaw dropped.

Alessia emerged in a scarlet Mrs. Claus dress, complete with a jaunty red hat, matching garter belt, and heels that clicked softly against the floor. Izzy nearly choked on a bite of panettone, scrambling to clear the food off the bed.

“Okay, yeah,” Izzy said quickly, eyes wide and locked on Alessia. “Christmas is officially the best time of year.”

Alessia smirked, crossing the room with deliberate slowness before climbing onto the bed. “I told you I’d make you love it,” she teased, before silencing Izzy’s awestruck rambling with a kiss.

The night that followed was one Izzy knew she’d never forget, the kind that made her heart feel too full for her chest. And when she finally fell asleep tangled in Alessia’s arms, she thought with absolute certainty: this was the best Christmas of her life.

[shotosjupiter]

“it’s welcome to the black parade, not the death parade, honey.”

one of nanami’s secret hobbies was his die hard obsession with his ‘emo’ bands that had become the peak of his teenage years. his side part wasn't the only part of him that carried angst in his earlier year. his music was so unlike present day him - loud, unfiltered, and bright.

it was a sight, really, when you had asked him to combine playlists with you and your music taste was mixed in with boy-bands and metal music blaring in your tinny headphones.

he had blushed, a little embarassed at the revelation but tentatively told you about how the music genre had made such a deep impact on him before and it was just something he couldn't let go of.

his prized tour merch were lined in the closet linings right next to his dress shirts and your sweatshirts. a part of him would sit up straighter when one of his songs was playing on the car radio as he drove. his concert tickets were framed on a wall of your shared home.

to say the least he was a fanboy and a dedicated one at that. and as his partner who were you but someone to help indulge him on the very few hobbies he had?

so one day, right after he came home from work you ushered him to go change into his home clothes and meet you on the couch immediately afterwards. nanami, all rugged and soft around the edges in his worn grey crewneck, melted into the soft plush of the couch and looked at you over the slope of his wired glasses. "what is it, honey?"

you bite back a grin and bring out the hand behind your back and hand him a folded piece of paper. "open it."

confusion lines nanami's face as he slowly unfurls the paper and then- blank. his expression goes neutral as he scans the paper and a a part of your heart slows in fear that he wouldn't like the surprise. nanami looks up at you, a crinkle of joy bleeding into his voice, "what... what is this?"

you fiddle with the ends of his sweatshirt, muttering, "i may have gotten you tickets to the new metallica tour..." you look up at him, finally, and plow on, "i already asked if it was possible for you to take some days off of work, so it works out! and i know you've been wanting to see them live so long and i just-" you shrugged, the words all escaping you.

you peer at him through half lidded eyes, "do you like it?"

nanami's grip on the paper loosens before it drops in his lap. his thick hands come to roam to your arm, rubbing up and down, before he reaches to cup your cheek. "do i like it? darling, this is the best surprise you could've given me. thank you."

he envelops you in a bone crushing hug and you can feel the curve of his smile pressing into the roundness of your neck. his excitement and nerdy-ness seeping into you as he hugs you so tightly. he releases you only to kiss you - on your cheek, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, and finally your lips.

"thank you for loving and taking care of all of me - even the parts i've hidden."

you giggle as he ravishes you with kisses, "always."

[catsahoy]

Yandere Femboy:

First Date ✩

Synopsis: Marcel has been itching for a date with you and know it’s finally going to happen! Did he say date he means taking his boss out to dinner to let you know how much he appreciate you for giving him a chance.

Warning’s- nsfw,voyeurism, masturbation, workplace relations, stalking, cnc, stealing, peer pressure

Masterlist

It’s the next week and Marcel couldn’t be happier his hairs done, nails done, makeup done and he’s wearing a cute little thong so that when he bends over you can see everything. Most of all he’s made you lunch your married after all it’s his job!

Nock nock nock, “Good morning boss slept well I know I did. Say I my cook made too much food so I brought some extra!” He beams giving it to you with both hands

Looking up from your desk you take it opening it to find your favorite meal, “oh my goodness Marcel I had know idea you liked this too!” Yeah he totally had know idea

Marcel smiles his glossy lips reflecting your happy face, “I’m so glad you like it maybe after work we can go to dinner I know a great spot.”

“nom nom nom, yes I would love too I’ve been trying to go to knew places anyway you know get out my comfort zone.”

Smiling, “Then it’s a date!”

With glee Marcel actually decideds to get some work done, he doesn’t actually know what he’s doing as long as he looks sexy doing it. Bending over to get paper, grabbing you water when ever you’re thirst, killing the employee that made him look lazy and replacing them with a more competent fuck, the usual

As the sun decides to set on a long day you gather you’re things deciding to meet up with Marcel, “Hey Marcel I was wondering if you wanted to drive together to the restaurant?”

Hearing this Marcel blushes, my love is so thoughtful how did I get this lucky

“No love it’s ok I’ll give you the address, and meet you there I have to swing by my house real quick, don’t forget to save me a seat

Giggling you nod, your head waving goodbye before driving off

Marcel smiles looking up at the sunset, “aren’t you beautiful oh no sun I’m not talking to you I’m talking about my love”

Snapping out of it Marcel gets in the car “ GO JAMES!” an with that he’s off

Making it home Marcel burst through the doors, taking the quickest, shower in his life, he grooms himself like never before puts on his best makeup, best perfume and best outfit he runs to the car his heart pounding, is my hair dry, is my makeup cakey

He’s never been this nervous at least about a date

Making it to the restaurant he is led to the table looking up your eyes go wide, did he change know you feel a little underdressed

As he sits how the beautiful smell of cashmere flows through the air “you look beautiful Marcel you should have told me we were dressing up I would’ve came prepared, but that’s ok.”

Giving a shy smile Marcel wants to hear those’s words from your lips from everyone else there vain but from you they give life

“Why thank you boss, so what did you order?”

“Well I ordered-blah blah blah blah”

As the night goes on it is filled with jazz, laughter, and Marcels intense gaze

“So boss when’s the last time you’ve been in a relationship 3 years ago?”

“Hm let me think about 3 years ago but it wasn’t anything serious I hate to say it but they were a little too boring for me you know.”

“Yeah I get that it can be hard to find someone who you like, who ingesting, who’s pretty.” He says his eyes burning into yours as his hand slides to yours

Pulling away you blush, “Marcel stop you know I’m your boss.”

Rolling his eyes, “oh come on you said your last relationship was boring and besides I see how you look at me, when I bend over, when I run task for you. You remember last week I could smell how aroused you were and I know how I present myself but baby you know I’m not small.”

Your pupils dilate you almost choked

Giving you his soft doe eyes, “come on just think about it yeah, why deny yourself why deny each other?”

“I mean I would love to but I could get fired, you a public figure I know h-“

“I don’t give a fuck.” Marcel whispers however his brash tone gives off another vibe

“I’m sorry baby but I can’t live in a world where we don’t even try. I know how my fans are and I know I’m known but my suspension is almost up we just need to tiptoe for a while. At least until I get back on the runway.”

He says lovingly, going in to hold your hand but this time you don’t pull away,

“…….sure, I mean how do you know if you don’t try?”

And with that your a couple I mean you both were already one last week but this is different

This is you signing off 

“Baby you have know idea how happy I am! Here let’s take a picture to commemorate are love.” click click

Before you can process what he said the flash goes off and soft kiss is placed on your lips now stained a cherry color as he giggles placing his phone down

“Aren’t you so excited for this new chapter baby!”

You nod your head yes, “aww you’re so cute when flustered.” mwah mwah, two more one on your cheek and the other on your forehead.

“Oh don’t worry I got the bill baby you seem a little out of it my kisses can do that.”

Swiping the card, Marcel walks you to your car giving you one final kiss. “Good bye my love sleep tight.”

Driving off you try to snap out of it are you really dating your employee

As you make it home you turn on a hot bath trying to numb your nerves, its ok we’ll be careful, this is how I loose my job, his suspension is almost over, I’m going to be blacklist from every job ever

The bath isn’t working getting out you dry yourself off, deciding to pamper yourself a little you get out your favorite body butter, oil and pajama set nothing

But even after all that your a little nervous for tomorrow aha

Taking out your toy you know what will calm you down

“Bzzz zzz zzz yes AH ah oh fuck that feels so-“

fwap fwap fwap hiding behind a tree Marcel has to make sure you get home safely “ahh hm yes bab- AhH play with your pussy just like that”

Finally climaxing you pass out deciding to worry about those problems for tomorrow

Seeing your sleeping figure he pulls up his pants Marcel creeps over to your window creeek slipping in he puts your vibrator up before diving his tongue into your pussy, lapping up your fresh juices he can’t waist a drop

After cleaning you up he snaps a few pictures, pulling up the covers he gives you a kiss not before going to your hamper and fishing for your dirty panties

sniff sniff time to add this to his shrine

“Goodnight my love can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

Authors note: the people have spoken and they wanna date with Marcel! Omg hope you liked it and thank you some much for 82 likes on my last post that really means a lot you all have gotten 100 likes total!

@magicalstarsworld, @junajun4



[heartofafiend]

Waiting for you / but on the other side

I present to you a short for Rafayel! Not proofread, written on the phone while waiting for the bus. I might fix how it looks later.

800 years he waited. Thousands of years he waited before, chained to the bottom of the ocean. His moves were restricted by chains that cut deep into his flesh, deeper in his scales. Years of no memories and only his name stuck in his head. At least he remembered that. On top of all, on top of the deep rooted knowledge of what, who he was — the God of the Tides — he knew little. Nothing to occupy his brain but the utter thought of revenge, feeling burning as strong as the power within him, but without a clear outlet. With no one to take the blame to feel the scorching power of his retribution.

And when he finally came back to himself, he lost everything and much more. His sole purpose of life, his own heart, the love that he belonged to, his body and soul — his being — slipping through his fingers like droplets of the evening tide when the moon is on the rise.

Then a second chance, a reawakening with his soul still whole, with the link to the one who had his heart still strong in his heart. He could breathe again, he could feel the colors in their glory — life once again made sense. Grays turning to a livid orchestra of shades and hues.

And so he searched. Under rough sea and above the water on scorching sands. Years again passed until he found her, his hope reawaken, the ember of his heart burning bright.

How thankful he was, how happy that all that patience he trained against his will paid up.

He loved her laugh, he loved her gaze, her eyes bringing him peace and joy.

But fate was a cruel bitch that gave a bit promising so much and bursting the bubble of reality to show her true colors.

And he felt, the moment he truly saw her, that his heart grew but his mind stopped, shattered, dove into the madness of the hurricane.

She was there, before him, so close, yet so far.

Her gaze on her reflection as she applied cream on dried elbows, small sounds of discomfort and over-dramatic monologue about how humanity should have really stayed in the oceans.

So beautiful, he would apply the cream for her, he would take her back to the ocean and share every wonder of it with her if he wished so.

He would help her stretch as she had in her routine before bed, babbling for a moment about her day before her head settled on the pillow.

The worst were the nights when she cried. What would he give to be able to hug her tightly, whisper that everything will be alright, burn the whole world if that would make her feel better.

A quiet goodbye sounded in the dark room illuminated by only the dimmed light of her phone laid on the pillow near her. The script was clear, and so easily broken as he opened his eyes and touched the invisible barrier between them.

A quiet goodnight she didn't hear echoing through his cold room, the sound of the waves swallowing his choked sob.

I went back to work, it took all of 4 hours to make me angry, another 2 to remind myself I need to give up and the last 2 talking with my work buddy about her therapy 😂 monday mood - thanks for listening to my yapping. ,

[fbisurveilancevan]

Update #2 (Below Cut for COS spoilers, TLDR at the beginning in Blue):

They did it, they finally figured it out! It took them browbeating him for details about how his ghost son died(they figured out he was being haunted and confronted him about that first.) But they finally put all the pieces together in a delightful string of “Wait a minute… why would he… would that… that means… OH! OMG!”

So firstly, after talking a little more with Rictavio in his room that he magically soundproofed first, the ghost following our Barbarian with the haunted one background kept sensing a presence in the area of another ghost, but couldn’t put their thumb on where it was (I may have fudged certain rules a smidge for the sake of intrigue, but I decided that Van Richten was keeping the spirit of his son safe in a lead lined pocket, which meant that most spells detecting undead directly wouldn’t be able to pinpoint him, but anything giving the number of undead in the area would count him towards the total.)

With a natural 20 to perception, I thought it would be interesting to have the other ghost be able to sense that a fellow spirit was somewhere around, but no precise indication of the type of spirit or specific location.

After looking around with no luck while Rictavio was preoccupied with talking a bit about the current happenings in town, inquiring about being fated allies, and dealing with the drunk warlock asking him if Van Richten was his Sugar Daddy (To which the poor man had to, in order to go along with his cover story and prior information about himself, make his most awkward attempt at “I suppose you could call it that if you really wanted to…”), the ghost came back empty handed, and the Paladin decided to use a detect good and evil spell, confirming that there was another ghostly presence in the close vicinity, but not where.

However… Van Richten took this opportunity to absolutely flub his check to play it cool and not show that he had something to hide, clutching the pocket nervously enough for said Paladin to see it, and call it out.

I break out the Ace Attorney OST and our first confrontation started. They all circled around him, rightly grilling him for talking of being up front and honest with each other on one hand and hiding something like this from them on the other. While at first he tried to dodge the questions, he wasn’t able to get past some really good rolls from everyone, and he made a partial confession:

“There is a ghost in this pocket, but he isn’t hostile or a danger… he’s Van Richten’s late son.”

From there, the party backed off for the time being, and both Van Richten and the party mutually apologized for the dishonesty and prying. Rictavio politely asked them not to press the matter with Van Richten, since it was a very sensitive matter, and they agreed. He sent them off to go meet his totally real boyfriend in his Carnival wagon under false pretenses, that way he could share some expert information that would be way above the pay grade of his bardic persona, especially since the Tome of Strahd also happened to be in his wagon…

Or at least, that was the plan. But we did something much more entertaining.

So the party reached the wagon and were immediately enamored with three things:

1. Xiao Bao the monkey (I let them change the name and monkey species because many of them, our warlock in particular, were really enamored with a very specific idea of the monkey from the very moment they got Van Richten’s card from Madame Eva.)

2. Tygra the Sabertooth Tiger (I got to name this one, though canonically I gave the naming credit to Ezmerelda, and I personally chose to nix the Vistani profiling bit for being trained to hunt vampires and zombies, given the direction/interpretation I have for Van Richten’s character.)

3. Most of all, Erasmus Van Richten, ghostly son of Dr. Rudolph Van Richten.

The other ghost present with the party and played by the Barbarian player (since that’s the character being haunted), took a quick shining to the other ghost, delighted to finally run into someone that could better understand their predicament and finding that he reminded them of their own son.

However, especially when Erasmus revealed himself to the rest of the party, the party got pretty carried away asking probing questions about how the son died. Nothing seemed to be deterring them until they asked who cut Erasmus’s head off, Van Richten had his head on a desk trying really hard not to cry in front of his son and a bunch of people who didn’t even technically introduce themselves to him (from what they knew at the time, at least), and more than half of the party had their own traumatic flashbacks triggered by the revelation that, before he was the experienced monster hunter he is now, Van Richten had to kill and cut off the head of his own son after he was transformed into a vampire spawn…

So after they finally all agreed that maybe this line of questioning Rictavio specifically asked them not to do wasn’t the best first impression, one of their passive perceptions snagged on a poor roll on Erasmus’s part.

Erasmus is not proficient in deception like Ez and Van Richten, and while he mentioned those two as his family and explained that Van Richten was caring enough to put a safe pocket in each of his outfits, even disguises, something rubbed them the wrong way:

Why hadn’t Erasmus mentioned Rictavio at all?

From there, Erasmus clammed up, and more questions started to piece into place:

Why did Rictavio give them a false pretense to meet Van Richten without him if he stopped by to drop off Erasmus? Why would Erasmus have had to come out of Van Richten’s pocket if his father made the whole wagon a safe space for him? Why did Van Richten and Rictavio both wear red spectacles and the same ring on the same finger?

Why did Rictavio never take off his hat?

At first, Van Richten tried to deflect again, but with a super high roll from our sorcerer and a couple others, they weren’t buying it. Something was going on, and they were going to find out to the swelling of the Cornered Pursuit from Ace Attorney. Then, with a natural 20 to an Arcana roll, the warlock pieced together something damning. There were such things as hats of disguise that, while the user wore them, could let them magically disguise themselves as a different person, so long as they kept the hat on their head.

With this information and accusation laid on the table, the party was in total shock as Van Richten finally confessed:

“Yes, the bard by the name of Rictavio… was secretly me this whole time…”

Fun fact: not only did none of them suspect it, but literally a couple of nights before session, some of my players were talking and joking about fake conspiracy theories for the game and Rictavio in particular, and one of them jokingly suggested that Rictavio and Van Richten were the same person, only to be floored when they were right.

Even after a bit of soaking in that revelation with some funny interactions, including one where someone tried to advise Van Richten not to have a fake name so similar to his, only to basically get “well it worked on all of you, didn’t it?” The party still spent the rest of the night stewing on it and all the little signs and foreshadowing they missed in hindsight. I’m really glad with how it turned out, and can’t wait for them to come across other major twists and reveals in their Curse of Strahd journey.

They aren’t ready for Vasili.

I’m a D&D dungeon master running Curse of Strahd who loves your art and would appreciate a ramble/bit of advice about a current funny situation in my campaign (I will keep my wording careful to try and avoid spoilers).

My party got Rictavio as their chosen ally, but through some cryptic words from Madame Eva and stumbling into some info about a certain monster hunter man earlier than expected, the party immediately came to the steadfast conclusion that…

They’re boyfriends. Definitely boyfriends.

They are due to meet Rictavio face to face for the first time next session, and my poor AroAce interpretation of him is not at all prepared for navigating that conversation lol. (especially if they notice a certain ring he has)

Do you have any pointers for handling this impending interaction? If not, that’s fine too, I just hope that it makes for an entertaining anecdote either way.

Lol that's absolutely fantastic, holy shit. I love D&D because of stuff like that.

Pointers under the cut (I will try to remain spoiler-free, but if you're a player I'd encourage you not to read just in case).

So I personally play him more rogueish-ly, meaning he will lie his ass off unapologetically. He was the character that taught my OG party the beauty of "just because you succeed an insight check and can tell a dude is lying that doesn't mean you'll learn the truth from him." If it makes a better cover for him, I could see him just blankly staring at the party when they ask about that and then agreeing they're ABSOLUTELY boyfriends, a lie he will now fully commit to the bit on.

If you wanted to make it more comedic you could make him do a really, really bad job at it. "Yeah, sorry I wasn't there, I was making out. With my boyfriend. That I have." Bonus points if you have him go on about how cool and awesome and smart and great of an author his boyfriend is.

[ssukidesu]

don’t be a stranger

Fandom: Inuyasha: A Feudal Fairy Tale

Pairing: Inukag

Rating: T

Inukag Week 2024 - Day 5: Personal Space

Summary: Kouga doesn’t respect Kagome’s personal space, and Inuyasha runs an experiment.

Read on AO3

Read below the cut

Evening came and went in a blur. Kagome’s eyebrow twitched at the sensation of golden eyes on her back as she cooked up some stew for the two of them. The others had gone back to the village, each for their own convenient reasons, but she knew that it was really because they, too, thought it best to leave them some time to resettle. They would be rejoining them after nightfall.

She sat on the opposite side of the fire he’d built to eat her serving of stew in peace, but as soon as he finished his own bowl, Kagome knew she wouldn’t be able to keep him at bay much longer.

Well, time to embrace the inevitable.

Taking her food with her, she pulled herself with a grunt to her feet, circled around the fire, and plopped right next to Inuyasha on his left side. He was leaning his back against the closest tree to the flames. He clearly still felt disgruntled about the day’s events, but he was long past growing angry with her about it, surely. All of his disdain was for the pushy wolf—and she appreciated that, at least. Alongside the disdain, though, there seemed to be something else bothering him.

Kagome leaned forward, bracing her arms over her knees, her own bowl still between her hands. It was warmer in her previous spot; she wasn’t as close to the fire now, and the wind bit through her clothes when it blew. She mused that she’d likely be more comfortable if she changed into her pajamas.

She’d been dreading when he’d finally start this stupid conversation, but the sooner it began, the sooner it’d be done.

The sudden sound of his voice wasn’t unexpected.

“So, you don’t like that kinda thing, huh?” he probed.

Kagome frowned, digging at a piece of cabbage stuck in her tooth with her tongue. “What kind of thing?”

After a beat, he spoke flatly, “Getting felt up.”

She cringed. Inuyasha was an all or nothing sort of man: either he would beat around a bush until he made himself dizzy, or he’d spit out something so blunt it made her dizzy. Right now, she wasn’t sure which she would have preferred more.

…

Kouga’s arm was crushing over her shoulder, more of a confining weight than a sweet affection. His words were equally heavy on her waning patience.

“Kagome, you don’t have to play shy—I know you’re only saying that ‘cause the mutt’s feelings will get hurt. Don’t worry about him.”

Her eyebrow twitched. “I’m not worrying about anything. I just don’t want your arm on me.”

“What, is it too heavy? I have been putting some muscle on recently—”

“It’s called personal space, Kouga. Can’t you respect mine?”

…

Kagome filled her mouth with a final spoonful of stew, chewed, and swallowed. Inuyasha was looking down at her expectantly, already having finished his bowl. She clunked hers on the hard ground.

“Didn’t you hear what I said to him?” she said, curling her lip. “Of course not. I like my personal space, thank you very much.” She straightened her spine and planted her hands on the ground behind her.

“Hmm. You sure about that?” he asked in a strangely calm voice. She turned her head to inspect him and found him gazing at her sideways. It wasn’t an accusatory look, but it did contain a clear serving of doubt.

…

“Bastard!” growled a familiar gruff voice before landing a hard fist to Kouga’s head.

“Ow!” cried her captor, who whipped around and cradled the wound with his free hand.

“Keep your filthy hands to yourself,” Inuyasha spat.

Kagome breathed a sigh of relief. At least this meant Kouga would probably let her go so that he could square up with Inuyasha.

He did just that. Lifting his arm from her shoulder, Kouga turned to face the half-demon, who had landed only a couple feet away. Kagome turned, too. She found Inuyasha not looking at Kouga, but at her. She sent him a look of tired gratitude before the wolf could steal his attention fully.

“Oh, you’re still around? That’s surprising,” drawled Kouga.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just that there was hardly any trace of your scent on Kagome… I figured she finally got tired of you.”

…

Didn’t he believe her by now? It wasn’t like she hid her discomfort earlier. Even she could still smell the wolf’s unkempt stench on her shirt. How could he even think she was okay with it?

“Is that so hard to believe?” she grit out, clearly offended.

“Honestly?” he grunted. “I know for a fact you were lying about that.”

What the hell? Was he delusional? Was he that jealous? Kagome glared at him in pure horrified agitation—but his own expression, surprisingly, didn’t seem exactly angry.

…

Kagome grit her teeth. What was she, some kind of fire hydrant?

“What is she, your personal pissing post?” growled Inuyasha. It wasn’t the most gracious of phrases, but she appreciated the sentiment.

She thought now would be a good time to say so herself, too. For the hundredth time.“Kouga. My answer is the same now as it’s always been: I’m. Not. Going. With. You.”

“Come on, Kagome! You know I’d treat you better than this flea brain?”

“Kouga… how Inuyasha treats me has nothing to do with me going with you,” she said. In the corner of her eye, she saw Inuyasha’s expression tighten bitterly, but it was back to normal in a mere flash. She continued, “I just don’t want to. I don’t like men who touch me like that. It’s not complicated. Now please, get out of here before Inuyasha tries to tear your throat out.”

“Heh! As if he could!” scoffed the wolf. But he turned his back to them nonetheless and reared to go. “Catch you later. I won’t give up so easily.”

And then, he was gone.

…

“What could possibly make you think I was lying!?” she cried.

But when he elaborated further, Kagome realized that they weren’t precisely talking about the same thing: “I just think it’s not true, is all. You liking your personal space. In general.” He shrugged.

Their eyes locked.

“Huh?” she squeaked. “W-What do you mean?”

“Maybe just with him you do,” he went on. Then, to her growing horror, he smirked.

She tore her eyes from him and turned her head to the side to hide her rosy cheeks. She sputtered, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I wonder if you’re lying again,” he mumbled, and it almost sounded like a chuckle.

She was going to rebut him, but the sensation of fingers on her left elbow almost made her jolt. Somehow, she managed to keep still. She was staring at the fire now, waiting to see what he was about, and she felt his hand climb slowly up from her elbow to her upper arm.

When he scooted himself an inch closer to her, she finally lifted her head to look at him. His bent arm was pressed along her lower back. He’d halted for a moment—maybe to allow her the chance to respond—but all she could manage was to stare dumbfounded at his nervous but still altogether patient and watchful gaze.

He continued to elevate his arm, the action displacing her hair that was once on her back to drape messily over his bicep.

His face was pretty damn close now. But she couldn’t look away—she was fascinated by his own fascination, his own carefulness, his own daring expression. There was a slight tilt to his brow, as if his increasing confidence brought him to the cusp of amusement.

When the full weight of his arm was over her shoulders and behind her neck, he softly tugged her backwards the few inches it took to recline fully against the tree trunk.

They settled, and he stared down at her—waiting.

During the process, Kagome had been so focused on tracking his movements that once they stopped, her body caught up to her all at once: her heart began to pound in her ears and in her chest, and her face grew rapidly hotter.

His downturned chin was perhaps half a foot from her eyes, which were still gawking up at him. After a full ten seconds of her silence, she watched his lips curl into a smile that could only be described as pride incarnate.

Ah. So that’s what this is about, Kagome noted absently.

And of course he had to go and ruin it by opening his stupid mouth: “I thought you said you didn’t like this sort of thing, Kagome.”

She forced her throat to swallow, and she hardened her face into a weak scowl. She could tell by his continued smirk that her blush kept the expression from looking very intimidating, but there was nothing she could do about that, really.

She was going to say And I still don’t, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like the feel of being under his arm—but she also didn’t want to just hand him a victory at her own expense. It was Kouga he wished to defeat in this endeavor—not her.

…Right? Right.

“You’re one to talk,” she managed evenly. “Kouga wasn’t wrong earlier when he said you had the affectionate instinct of a puffer fish.”

Yeah, that would work for now. Deflect, deflect, deflect—avoid the truth, but also avoid lying.

“Keh. That isn’t…” he began, surprised at finding himself on his heels in this conversation. She saw his struggle plainly: he wanted to tell her she and Kouga were wrong, but in doing so, he’d have to defend himself as being some kind of touchy-feely person—and even if he was (which she didn’t quite buy wholesale), he’d never admit to it.

She did somewhat pity his dilemma. “Well, I guess it’d be more accurate to say that you’re affectionate when it’s on your own terms.” She looked away as she spoke, and if she allowed a touch of dejection to leak into her tone, well… so much the better.

It worked.

“Hey,” he grunted, angling his head to stay in her periphery. “It’s just ‘cause—well…”

She hid her rolling eyes. He was so bad about leading himself into dead ends. He’d begin to say what he meant, and then once he came close enough to actually feel the sugary words on the tip of his tongue, he discovered he didn’t approve of their taste. He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, after all.

When she turned her head back to him, he staggered his own back a few inches. She stared at him with a raised brow.

“You mean to tell me that you’re okay with receiving affection, too?”

He froze. “Uh…”

She scoffed and gave him a derisive look. “You’d rather jump off a cliff.”

Her words seemed to agitate him. “You’re wrong,” he said, returning to his closeness from before, expression obstinate.

Was she cruel? Maybe. It was his own fault for turning this into a competition between them instead of just between him and Kouga.

“That so?” she prompted simply.

Kagome brought her left hand up to tangle her fingers with his where they draped over her shoulder. She watched his face contort with first confusion and then embarrassment, which he just as quickly moved to quell.

He was a stubborn one.

The sky was at dusk now, and its gold only highlighted the matching tones of his eyes. She watched as he resettled himself inwardly.

She’d push a little more, then.

In one movement, without disturbing his arm or their joined hands, she twisted her waist and flung her legs over his lap.

He clearly was struggling to suppress the coughs that came after he choked on his own spit, but his eyes grew fixed and firm on her face.

Her torso was adjacent to his now, and she could look straight up at him without having to turn her head.

Still holding it in, she mused. One more try.

Her right hand, which was free on her own lap, came to snake around his back and settle on his waist. She gripped his robe in her fingers. Then, she loosened her left hand from his and brought it to rest on his left leg, right beside where her own thigh was pressed atop his.

His fingers instinctively latched onto her shoulder. His expression was outright pained now, his own face beet red and a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. His eyes weren’t on hers—they were somewhere lower—and their expression was not a sweet one.

She wondered if what he did next was done out of spite or something worse. Proving a point could be a dangerous game—and he was quite competitive. He was growing vexed with her, clearly, but she knew better than to think herself the victor just yet. Especially after he leisurely brought his own right hand to sit on top of her thigh.

Her upper thigh. High enough that his fingertips would brush the fabric of her skirt.

She stopped breathing. Whatever look had been on her face, she hoped it was a pretty one—because it was now frozen there.

He saw her panic, and he smirked with notable strain.

Kagome wondered if she should somehow return them to the point that this was all supposedly about. She said the first thing that came to mind: “…I definitely wouldn’t like it if Kouga did this,” she admitted. She realized when the words were halfway out of her mouth that it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say.

Inuyasha’s fingers tightened on her leg, the claw of his thumb pressing into the skin of her inner thigh. “As if I’d let him try.”

She gulped. “And what about you, huh? Don’t pretend like this is normal behavior for you. You can’t blame me for thinking that you didn’t like doing stuff like this. Or maybe…” she paused, flicked her eyes away, and mumbled her finish: “…maybe that you just didn’t like doing it with me.”

He brushed his thumb on her sensitive skin, and she returned her meek gaze to his.

His golden eyes softened. “You think I’d have you in my lap if I didn’t want you there?”

Her face heated again. His did, too. When her eyes lowered to his mouth, his head dipped an inch, and she felt his warm breath flutter against her lips. His arm tightened behind her neck, and he tugged her the rest of the way to him.

The first time they’d kissed, he’d been unconscious for most of it. When he’d awakened, he found his claws buried into her stiff shoulders. They felt different this time, his lips, when they met hers. They were firm, but not from a grimace; they were soft, and expressive, and thorough. She’d been afraid of his thickened fangs last time, but now, she almost wished he’d use them a little.

It was only half a minute they got before he smelled Kirara on the wind. When he pulled away, he sighed mournfully and told her this. She stole another kiss, which he gave generously.

They untangled from each other slowly and came to stand.

“Maybe don’t be such a stranger from now on,” she said with a timid smile. “Kouga did say he didn’t smell much of you on me. You want him to leave me alone, don’t you?”

His look grew weak. His fingers twitched at his sides.

He would have responded, but Miroku, Sango, and Shippo were greeting them from above, and Kagome turned her back to him to welcome them back.

[orcelito]

Working on my javascript for my web page. Turns out I have the perfect kind of setup to accomplish some of the project requirements, specifically with even handlers and user interactions

My website, conceptually, will load a different employee details page depending on what employee name is clicked on. But I need to load it dynamically (instead of hard-coding it) so that the user can add or delete employees & it'll be able to still load the relevant shit.

So! Only one employee details page, but depending on how it's loaded, it'll load a different employee's information. Still working on getting down Exactly how to do it (I'm thinking using URL parameters that'll read a different object depending on what ID is used)

It's entirely doable. In fact, it's probably extremely common to do in web pages. No one wants to hard-code information for every new object. Of course not. And thus the usefulness of dynamic javascript stuff.

I can do this. I can very much do this.

[risingsunresistance]

the day i got this thing compared to today is just a bit funny

[deus-ex-mona]

honeypre walked so meoto could run

[tardis--dreams]

The worst part is not that i procrastinated my term paper to the last minute. I always do that. The worst part is having to send my lecturer the topic proposal a week before the deadline which will undoubtedly be met with some extreme judgment of my time management and i am not in the mood for that

[raveszn]

18+ nsfw and fluff

Inmate Toji who got locked up because some bastard couldn’t take his hands off you and couldn’t handle the beat down he gave him. He swore to you from day 1 “ any man would be stupid as fuck if they think they could touch you” … hince why he’s locked up now.

Inmate Toji who misses his sweet girl so much he wishes he could escape just to see you. “ Toji I miss you how much longer do i have to wait” you pout over the glass window. Of course you knew when he was getting out, you counted the days till his release. “ I know mama I miss you too, might escape just so I could hold you.” He knows exactly what to say to get your head spinning.

Inmate Toji who gets his sentence extended because another inmate just could keep their mouth shut about his pretty girl. “ Toji your girl is real pretty you wouldn’t mind if I take a trip to see her when I get out right?” Toji knew that man was taunting him but when it comes to you he has zero self control. So he tought him a lesson well technically he made him a lesson to everyone, no one even walks near him scared they’ll get fucked up next.

Inmate Toji who writes to you about having his supposedly short stay being extended but swore he could fix it on the terms of having good behavior. When you got the note you were livid to say the least.

Inmate Toji who jerks his dick off at night to the cute pictures you sent to him in your weekly letters.He doesn’t even hide his moans. Everyone in his cell block needs to know how good his girl makes him feel even when your not physically present. Some pictures were genuinely just cute outfits you bought recently and wanted to show him and some were sultry, why not show him what he’s missing.

Inmate Toji who finally gets released after two extra months. he walks out the prisoner gates in his tight black tee and grey sweats to see his beautiful girl standing with a bouquet of flowers. “ all for me doll?” toji asks taking the flowers from your hands. he raises his free hand and grabs your cheeks so he can kiss you. from then you knew he wasn’t going easy on you later.

“ awe my pretty girl missed me huh?” you were in the meanest full nelson. his arms on your tighs keeping them back so he could get the best view of you. “ yes i missed you.. so ‘much.”

you could see his abs tense, eyes focused but not on you no, on your cunt. on full display just for him. “ hmm baby not talking to you right now, ‘m talking to my other girl.” you clench on him more. “ you don’t mind right ‘missed her it’s been so long.”

he finally brings his eyes up to you with that stupid ass smirk on his lips that you loved. he pulls out completely just to piss you off before pushing himself back in, continuously hitting that spot that makes your eyes rolls, hip arch and mouth drool.

“ shit baby you don’t know… how much i missed this.” bringing his face next to yours. his cool breathe radiating off you making your body shutter. small kisses traveled down your neck to your chest where he lapped his tongue on your nipple going back and forth making sure to never show favoritism to one over the other and his brutal pacing never stopping and eyes never falling from your face.

“ sh- shit toji slow down” your practically keeping yourself on the bed by gripping the sheets under you. “ na baby gotta make up for lost time.”

toji moves his face from your chest to hover over you “ you wouldn’t mind me putting a baby in you right, i can fill you up hm look ‘so pretty carry my baby.” your mouth forms a o and your eyes rolls back while that familiar coil in your stomach releases, it’s like he planned for you to come undone at the same time., ‘his words always know when to get your head spinning.’ he keeps pushing into you till you ride out your high.

“ hm how ‘bout another round my pretty girl can take it.”

a/n: you don’t even know how long it took me do to this format anywho

[rhapsodyinferno]

i know i KNOW that quartet night forfeiting their initial win to be the triple s opening artist was for some plot bullshit to happen in season 4 (and i did like s4 at some aspects) but godddd it sucks to see because they literally had the best song out of everyone in the competition and they had to say crap like, "everyone is on equal playing level" THAT'S BULLSHIT. IT'S BULLSHIT. idk i do love both starish and heavens too but come onnnnn starish put out fucking Maji Love Revolutions and it's NOT even at the same level as Evolution Eve. meanwhile, i do love Heaven's Gate but it's a re-hash of their first song so i feel like it's grounds for being disqualified (other than going there unannounced) anyway i shouldn't be this worked up over a silly anime about singing and dancing but whatever it's fine

[orcelito]

Somehow managed to mostly finish my C lab today by the start of lab time. But there were a few problems I had with some of the loops I had that my TA ended up helping me figure out what was wrong. So, a finicky lab, But the good news is that the next lab for this class isn't gonna be nearly as much work. Or so I've heard.

Gotta do my essay writing today. Not gonna try to work on my web programming thing today, bc im several days sleep deprived and I need to rest up before driving tomorrow. Just gonna have to try to steal some time to do it after everything tomorrow (if I have the energy for it) & whatever remains will be done Sunday night. Whether I get any sleep or not.

Sigh. I'm almost done, tho. I'm almost done...

[copper-meadows]

It terrifies Bruce, a little, that the first time Batman and Robin pull up to a mauling victim, Robin is acutely calm.

The girl is young, and Batman and Robin were made known to the scene pretty quickly as Batman scares off the dog with a taser.

Despite being the adult, he balks a little at how well Dick handles the toddler in front of him.

Later on, when the girl is seen by paramedics and the mother is finally calmed after being assured that the only physical damage present would be some scarring on her left leg, Bruce takes Dick out for ice cream for being so brave.

Then again, Dick was the one to threaten death upon his parents' murder at the ripe age of 9.

But the incident is filed away, deep in the archives of the BatComputer.

Dick is much older, and has seen much more, but he's still calm when one of his brothers is half-torn apart by a shark on an impulsive surfing trip with their hero friends.

Everyone is panicking because as much as they'd loathe to admit, seeing something that gory is so completely different than being in costume (because being in costume means they're at the very least prepared).

But Dick is calm, and his first aid more immaculate than ever.

When someone asks him about it, how he can stay so calm, he's suddenly 7 again.

He's 7 again and watching his Uncle-not-really-uncle getting mauled by one of the sick tigers. He's watching as his father rushes to help and calms the crowd down.

When he asks his father why he was not scared, he receives this.

"I was terrified for my friend, but panic makes your hands shake, makes you slow. He did not need my fear, he needed me."

Dick tells them that.

[cat-entusiast]

Drawing something after like a month? Yeah baby, i think i'll get back to it