#I made art about this feeling of being like

[sceletaflores]

any nasty down bad breeding kink art musings love of my life?

viciously yanked me out of my mini challengers rut with this one because yes. yes i do have some thoughts on that.

for some reason the first thing that came to mind was virgin!art....in a universe where he somehow didn't get laid before stanford lol

like auurgggghhh virgin!art and his deep seated breeding kink. it's literally ingrained in him even before he has sex for the first time.

you're his first real girlfriend, met when you needed a tutor in accounting and art's professor suggested him.

the two of you have been dating for two months and he already knows that he loves you despite what patrick says about "playing the field a little man, you're not married to the chick."

but the thing is that art would marry you. he'd up and marry you tomorrow if that's what you wanted. he doesn’t care how crazy it sounds.

he loves you and he wants you to be his first.

maybe he wasn't entirely expecting it when you laid on your back on the mattress of his dorm, peering up at him through your lashes as you announced that you were "ready to take our relationship to the next level..."

he was hard before you finished talking.

art could barely think straight, his body reacting faster than his mind. he swallowed hard, trying to steady his hands, which had started trembling the moment you laid back on the navy blue comforter of his bed.

“are you...are you sure?" his voice came out more breathless than he intended, his brain scrambling to keep up despite all the blood rushing to his dick.

your gentle nod, paired with a soft smile that made his heart stutter in his chest was all it took for him to lose any lingering doubts.

he crawled up the mattress, leaning down to kiss you with more tenderness than urgency, his heart thudding against his ribcage like it was trying to escape his chest.

he fumbled his way through fingering you, his hands shaking with nerves even though you've done this part countless times.

it wasn't until the two of you shed all clothes, art settling himself between your legs before you were speaking, thighs twitching to close around his hips.

"you'll have to pull out, i'm off the pill."

fuck.

art's heard of that before, pulling out. usually the punchline of some jokes the guys like to tell in the locker room, or from patrick recapping his own hook-up stories.

the dirtiness of it makes his cheeks burn, and he hopes to god you can't see the embarrassing red blush he knows is there.

he takes a deep breath, steeling his resolve as he presses the leaking head of his dick to your slick hole.

"okay." his voice sounded pained, his hold on your hip probably a little too tight as he held his throbbing dick steady and nudged his hips forward until just the tip slipped inside your fluttering hole.

"oh fuck."

art’s brain short-circuits for a moment, his entire body freezing as the tight heat of you grips the head of his dick. he sucks in a shaky breath, trying to keep his cool, but every nerve in his body is screaming at him to move, to take more. to bury himself so deep he wouldn’t know where he ends and you begin.

he lets out a low groan, fingers digging into your skin, knuckles turning white with it. he wasn’t prepared for how overwhelming it would feel, like his entire life had been leading up to this exact moment.

"jesus...you're so—" he can’t even finish the sentence, his voice breaking.

"art," your hips shift beneath him, making him jolt forward, sinking just a little deeper inside you. his mind goes blank, a vast space of nothingness but the tight heat wrapped around his dick.

there's only you, your soft skin, your quiet gasps, the feeling of being wrapped in the most sinful warmth.

for a while art gets lost in the feeling. in the way you pant into his open mouth, to overwhelmed to kiss him properly. in the way your hands grip his shoulders harder with every inch he gives you. in the way you pussy shakes around him like it can hardly wait any longer.

but soon enough, art knows he's getting close, that he probably needs to pull out soon. but you're just so soft and you smell so good and your pussy is sucking his dick in so wet and warm like it never wants him to leave again.

"i can't," he grits out against your collarbone, shaking his head frantically. "i can't do it."

"don't stop," you whine, manicured nails digging into the toned muscle of his shoulders, "don't stop, baby. fuck, give it to me harder, harder please-ah!"

art screws his eyes shut as tightly as he can, brows pinched together as he presses his forehead against the sweaty skin of your shoulder. to ground himself. his hips speed up to punch out more high whines of his name from your slick lips.

there's an odd feeling working it's way through his body as he ponders his options, a wrongness flashing in the back of his mind each time he reminds himself of pulling out to spill over your stomach.

despite the fact that he's never done this before, his gut tells him no.

you deserve his come inside you, painted along your insides as he claims you for the first time.

"i can't pull out," he whines through clenched teeth, big hands tightening their hold on your waist. his voice is pinched and high in a way it's never been before, desperation leaking through his tone.

your lips fall open on a gasp, your head shaking back and forth dazedly, but he feels the way you clench around him. the way your pussy tightens up like it's trying to milk the load directly out of his aching balls.

"fuck! please don't make me baby," he begs, self restraint snapping in two as he buries his face in your neck. "lemme come in you, it'll be okay. we'll be fine, nothing gonna happen if it's only this once."

"no..." you moan, "art don't, gotta pull out..." but your hips start rising of the bed to meet his thrusts, the dirty smack of skin on skin filling his tiny single. you're dripping around him, coating his dick with a slick layer of shiny wetness.

"i can't," art repeats breathlessly, dick twitching inside you warningly.

"i need it…need you, need to come in you so fucking bad," his voice is strained and cracking, hips trembling with the effort, but you’re so tight around him, every squeeze pulling him deeper.

it's too much and not enough all at once—the heat, the wetness, the overwhelming need. it has pure kerosene burning in his veins.

"art," your legs stay wrapped snug around his hips, ankles locked over his lower back. "m'close, gonna come, fuck! i'm coming—!"

so is art. the added squeeze of you're pussy coming around shattering the last of his resolve and sending him careening him over the edge.

"fuck," your name falls from his lips in a tight groan as he unloads inside of you. flooding your pussy with warm come as his hips keep up the punishing pace he set.

art doesn't stop thrusting even as he comes so hard his vision whites out. he can't stop, like you've got some sort of magnetic field that keeps pulling him in over and over and over.

your too-loud moans and cries dissolving into sharp keens and gasps as he fucks you into over-stimulation, his hips pumping in in in as the image of his come getting fucked deeper and deeper inside of you plays on a loop in his mind.

when his arms finally give out and he collapses on top of you in a sweaty heap of limbs, your arms immediately come up to wrap around his shoulders. a pleased hum rumbling through your chest as you scratch your nails along his scalp soothingly, smug smile hidden in the sweaty halo of his hair.

art's out like a light in five minutes, falls asleep right there with his head resting on your bare-chest and his dick kept safe inside you.

patrick buys a plan-b for art the next morning when he's too nervous to face the cashier at walgreens.

[imaginariumwanderer]

Mkay last post before logging off. Featuring silly pixel art I made w/ my mouse.

This chart was actually made out of pure self-indulgent a while back with no intention of being posted, I ended up scribbling(?) all over the thing. Hopefully it's readable when zoomed in.

It's "my ship in 5 minutes" but I can make it 30 if you want. WARNING: Tons of sappy yapping+pixel art download under cut.

About "tropes": The trope is called Angel-Devil shipping, oh but I don't think PV is an angel. He's more like a God for SM (at least that's my preference)… Thinking at all the possible tropes that suits them make me really wonder why some people consider Shadowvanilla a crack/pro ship. Enemies to lovers or villain/hero ships have been pretty archetypal since the day of olds. Compared to all the ships I've encountered in the past… Shadowvanilla is more or less the "slightly out of the norm" on the "problematic ships scale" <- typing this out make me feel like an old fandom veteran haha

About "how it happens": I have no idea where to put PV on that chart. He's the one who approached first, but not out of romantic intents, him falling for SM is as unexpected as can be. SM fell first and slowly, and in 'slow' I meant decades upon decades. It's inevitable, painfully so, spending all those years watching over this cookie who's so perfect in his imperfections, how could one not feel something? Of course it's not so simple, that 'something' is a horrid mixture of disgust, envy, hatred, understanding, both the need to preserve and destroy… And maybeee the tiniest crumb of affection? SM realized something around the first couple hundredth years mark, he then spends the next thousands in denial of it. No matter. Whether it's PV or the Soul jam, his birth-given rights. SM knows what he wants and he WILL get what he wants. (He's wrong on both fronts. And somewhere in the back of his mind, SM knows that. But he'll never admit it. He'll never ever admit anything. Until it's too late. In a way, the same goes for PV)

About a certain someone who's not clingy, but would die for attention: I think PV gets lonely easily. As he's hyper-aware of himself and considerate of others, appearing clingy is the last thing PV wants. So PV would put extra efforts in taking care of those around him, be it cookies, animals or the greenery in his garden. A healer is always busy, always helpful. If he's always needed by others then he would never be afraid of being alone. Ironically enough, this ended up making PV come off as a little overbearing. As of late, the only ones able to see through the facade are Hollyberry cookie and you-know-who.

Other scattered thoughts: These two are completely different yet can't be more similar, on the various sliding scales they're either stuck to one another or are flung to both ends. On another note, honestly I can't see these two doing anything domestic together, the most I can see is cooking, which is basically the same as magic in the cookie world. Anyways, are they in "love"? Are they dating? Not really, no. It's more of a a parasitic-turned-symbiotic-soulbond, a will-they-won't-they-destroy-the-world situationship (iykyk) I do enjoy relationships that's hard to put into words. Their feelings are somehow romantic, somewhat deranged and something much, much deeper.

My desire to ship these two comes from the desire to see them grow beyound their archetypes. Being with PV does give SM the chance to be horrible as can be, yeah, but I'd like to think SM does have a personality outside of being a villainous tormentor. He spends so long observing others, and now for the first time he's being seen. Now SM have met someone who can see right through him, who can glimpse into those dammed vulnerabilities of his. Being with SM does let us see PV in his darkest moments, but it's at the same time the moments where PV can shine the most, to prove SM that his ideals isn't naïveté or simple platitudes. In canon, SM+PV works well as enemies, but it is the many contradictions born when romance is added into the mix that got me shipping. They simultaneously break down and bolster one another's greatest traits. Like binary stars, they orbit around the other, so close yet so far apart, lest they collide. They could've been so perfect for each other. But not in this life, or the next, or the next...

Pixel art time! I have way too much fun w/ Smilk's many faces, his and PV's combined came to around 22 expressions. These are quick to made due to their small size (25x25 px). Zip file includes both the og and 75x75 sizes. I don't mind if any Vanilla milkshakers might use these, just please remember to read the my art terms and conditions first! (which can be found in my About)

Some disclaimer: some images may have different names. This is the first time I'm using Getuploader so sorry if something broke.

Link

[carnelianly]

groping art WAHHHHH i need it i need it i need it

UGH u get it !! (this is consensusal but if u want noncon i'm cool with writing that just send me another ask!!)

like you're his partner, of course he doesn't mind if you want to touch him. he loves your affection and physical touch (mostly just because art is sooo physical. that's how he shows his love) but he was definitely not ready for how much you like to touch him. not that it's bad and he definitely likes it, likes to have you attention even when you're focused on something else.

but you don't even ask anymore, you just reach out to grab his thigh and massage the inner side of it. he looks over at you, thinking you want his attention or have something to tell him. but nope, you just wanted to have your hands on him. your fingers dig into his skin, even through his sweatpants.

or groping his ass... whenever you want... he definitely works out his glutes unnecessarily hard because he knows you like it.. he likes making his body perfect, fine-tune it into something that pleases you. but he just absolutely has no idea what to do when you grab his ass, laying in bed together. what is he supposed to do?? he just lets you squeeze it and maybe give it a playful slap (this post is Not About spanking...)

or just feeling up his clothed crotch, but it's not like he'll tell you no or to stop, because you've made it very clear that his body is yours and you touch it however you want, whenever you want. it's a little humiliating, sure, but that's what you like most about him, right? that he'll just take it, with no fight or complaint.

omg and the sounds he makes when he feels like just a little bit uncomfortable with your touches, not that they're bad but they're just slightly out of his comfort zone. especially because it's a little bit emasculating to be manhandled and groped by his wife. he's pretty loose about societal gender roles, being that he's naturally a people pleaser and pretty submissive, but he's still a man and he still feels that pit in his stomach about 'what would others think if they knew she touched me like this..?'

[sayhoneysiren]

Which 48th Law of Power, should you apply to your situation for success?

{Collab with @lavendergoddesstarot}

Pile 1 is on the left side. Pile 2 is on the right side.

Welcome Sirens! This reading is for entertainment purposes only based on the downloads I receive. Do not attack me if the message doesn’t resonate. Keep in mind this is a collective reading, not a individual one. With that being said, enjoy!

Honey $iren🍒

>Join for weekly Tarot Readings here<

⸻⊱༺  🩸 ༻⊰⸻

Pile I

(1st part of your reading here)

When it come to success, you may have the habit of oversharing your ideas with others. Spirit is saying, learn to keep your goals private. You have ideas that are absolutely GOLDEN, but unfortunately, there are bitter and jealous people around you, who want to sink your boat. Your success is a threat to them and when you yap to them about all your ideas, you give them your blueprint to destroy you. The Wheel of Fortune came out for you last, which shows me that when you learn to reserve your ideas or share only fractions of information, luck will be on your side and the wheels will turn in your favor.

~ LAW 24 - PLAY THE PERFECT COURTIER ~

(The numbers 24, 2, 4, or 6. may be significant to you. It could be your birth date number, current age or a significant number to you).

Quote from the book 48 Laws of Power, "The perfect courtier thrives in a world where everything revolves around power and political dexterity. He has mastered the art of indirection; he flatters, yields to superiors, and asserts power over others in the most oblique and graceful manner. Learn to apply the law of courtier-ship and there will be no limit to how far you can rise in the court." - Robert Greene

There's an old saying coming to mind, "Never let anyone see you with your head to the ground." We all have weaknesses and our weaknesses should always be kept to ourselves, until we overcome them. The message for you is to Master you Emotions. Handle your messy business privately. Don’t rant to people about your problems, even if they’re friends. Show a professional, strong face to the world, even when you feel worried. Stay motivated on the end goal, even when you feel defeated.

You may also have difficulties with wanting to prove yourself as worthy or intelligent to others (which causes you to debate, argue, overshare or overextend yourself). Learn to hold back. There's no need to cast your pearls to swine.

ADVICE

Master your emotions. Don't allow insults and threats to pierce you.

Find creative outlets to release your energy into. (If you’re a writer, write to release your thoughts and feelings or to creative stories.)

Learn social protocol, discreetness and etiquette with others.

Trust no one.

Let your actions and results speak louder than the need to prove people wrong or right.

⸻⊱༺  🩸 ༻⊰⸻

Pile II

(1st part of your reading here).

There was something said to you, that made you feel insecure about your self image or your abilities to succeed. You are hanging on to this, and because of this you are not allowing yourself to move forwards and become your greatest. For many of you, it was a person close to you, that you deeply trusted, who hurt you with their words or actions. Here’s what to do. Cry about it, journal about it, meditate on it, THEN LET IT GO. (And if it's better, let them go too).

Your value is never determined by anyone else, it is determined by you. To become your successful self, own all that you are, in body, spirit, emotion and mentality. You are not a mistake. Don’t be fooled by the people who cannot see your value yet.

You are a very grounded and practical person, who holds immense wisdom within'. Your intuitive powers are off the charts! 

These toxic people around you, don't see your power or how your ideas can come into fruition but don't let that stop you from carrying on. You have the ability to manifest like a God or Goddess on Earth and you will be a wealthy person very soon.

LAW 28 - ENTER ACTION WITH BOLDNESS

(The numbers 28, 0, 1, 2, 8, or 10. may be significant to you. It could be your birth date number, current age or a significant number to you).

Quote from the book 48 Laws of Power, "If you are unsure of a course of action, do not attempt it. Your doubts and hesitations will infect your execution. Timidity is dangerous. Better to enter with boldness. Any mistakes you commit through audacity are easily corrected with more audacity. Everyone admirers the bold; no one honors the timid. - Robert Greene

Don't be the victim, be the successor. Push through all negativity until you are successful. Learn to stand up for yourself with boldness and walk your path audaciously. When you speak, speak with firmness and a assured tone. When you have ideas, create and pursue them with confidence. The cards are telling you, that your ideas are brilliant and that they are going to be greatly received by the world (fame is highly likely for you), so don’t feel insecure about yourself. Just trust the process.

ADVICE

Learn not to take criticism personally.

Work on your self value and self esteem.

Work with the Lion totem or the Goddess SEKHMET to be more courageous.

Cut toxic people out of your life.

Create boundaries and stand up for yourself.

Do Solar Plexus practices. Sunbathe. Get an Aura Reading.

[machveil]

Trying not to think about Simon 'Always Doing Acts of Service and Caring for Others Silently' Ghost Riley forgetting to care for himself as much, and how it would probably touch a part of his heart he thought wasn't there anymore if someone did the same for him. Something simple, like just a new jacket after his old one got wrecked from wear and tear, that's thick and durable but soft and comfortable, a nice weight on his shoulders but doesn't make him sweat, resting over his chair. Or after a long day of work where he's dragging himself along, finding a meal already made for him sitting in the fridge, something actually cooked and seasoned the way he likes so he doesn't have to think about cooking or go to bed on an empty stomach. Idk, this has been rattling around in my brain all day and I needed to get it out, sorry if this is weird! Also really like your art and writing, congrats on the 1k, you deserve it and so much more!

anon I’m smooching your big, beautiful brain (I wrote this in one sitting, hope it’s not terrible lol)

Simon Riley is a man of action - Ghost, the most literal manifestation of serving. Ghost follows and gives orders to assure his team, his friends, make it home safe at the end of a deployment. as a Lieutenant, Simon wouldn’t say it out loud, but he cares so deeply for his team. Task Force 141 is a second home to him, more so the people, and thus makes it his job to protect them

but Simon Riley is also a man of action off duty - a civilian who’s heart rests in your hands. loyal as a dog, Simon would do anything for you. a man of action, he’ll insist you relax, you shouldn’t lift a finger for something small. anything Simon can do in your stead he will. because, while his team is a second home, his true home is you

but Simon, stubborn and strong as he is, gets tired. front door clicking shut, mask already being tugged off, his muscles are tense and sore after a long day. dirty blond hair messy and eyes half lidded with exhaustion, he’s still only got one thing on his mind - to serve you and make you happy. he already planned on trudging into the kitchen to make dinner, something simple but filling. he pauses when he smells food already though

kicking his boots off, worn and dirty, he makes his way to the little kitchen around the corner. cracking a small, barely there smile at the sight in front of him. you, moving about the kitchen. the lights a little dim - he’d change the lightbulb later, and there you are, cooking a meal. one step ahead of him, and he soaks in the domestic scene. a part of him wants to step in, tell you you’ve done enough and he’ll finish everything off… but he doesn’t have the heart to disrupt this cozy, intimate moment

it’s only when you see him does he approach, hands a touch too rough and calloused - he’s sure you’ll make him moisturize later. “Smells nice, lovie.”, he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hairline. eyes fluttering shut as he holds your hands, a small grin tugs at his lips, “S‘pose the food smells good too.”. he relishes in the laugh that leaves you, the way you squeeze his hands. he moves to press a kiss to your jaw, slightly crooked nose nudging against you as his hands wander to your hips - touch featherlight, as if handling you any rougher might shatter you

there’s a reluctance in his heart as he lets go of you, scoffing when you tell him to go sit down. “Bossy little thing.”, he mumbles, voice lighthearted as he leans back against a counter. he stays there for just a moment, one last glance at you happily cooking - cooking for him. it melts his heart knowing that you’re just a loyal as him, that you’d both run to the ends of the Earth for each other

he’s content to finally relax, leaving the kitchen to slump against a chair in the small dining room. head tilted back a little as he rolls his shoulders, his hands move to idly take his belt off - he’d change later, a hot shower after dinner always made him feel better. maybe he’d convince you to join him, better yet— maybe he’d convince himself to indulge in a hot bath instead. and when you join him at the table, sitting down next to him with a full plate for him, Simon feels butterflies in his stomach

he loves eating with you, sharing a meal and letting his guard down. gaze smitten as he listens to you recount your day, breathing steady as he hums. and when everything is done, stubborn man, he’ll take the dishes to the kitchen. as much as he’d like to wash them straight away, he settles for leaving them in the sink tonight. soon enough he’s sweeping you up in his arms - no matter how roughed up and sore he is, he always finds the strength to carry you. he’ll ignore any protest that, “Simon! I can walk—“, a gruff chuckle rumbling in his chest, “Know that, love, but I can carry you just fine.”

and from then on, Simon feels like he’s floating. in a dreamlike state, he sets you down on the cool bathroom floor, feet making contact with tile. gently thumbing at your hips, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, “Thank you.”. soft spoken words contrasting his gravely voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek - lips a little chapped, but he’s never heard you complain about them

and when you help each other slowly strip, the bathroom filling with mist like steam, he feels the tension in his muscles give. he puts up a little fight, grumbled words, when you insist on sudsing him up. he’s all bark though, when he feels you rub his aching shoulders he feels like he could never muster up any bite ever agiain. comfortable and turning to putty in your hands, he’ll happily let you mould him into a soft, gentle man

he’ll lazily return the favor, rough hands lathered in your body wash. content. feeling you under his palms, warm skin dotted with beads of water and bubbles, Simon’s content. a warmth in his chest that he’s still not used to. the simple intimacy of washing away the sweat and filth from the day, it makes Simon feel like a new man - and to wash you? he’s happy you feel safe enough, that you trust him, to handle you so carefully

and at the end of the night, cleaned from the dirt of his daily life, Simon settles in bed with you. all gentle touches and soft, murmured praise - you did so good for him today. he fights the back of his mind off, you’ve taught him better than to believe those gnawing words. Simon Riley deserves this. a phrase you carved into his heart, long since settled at the forefront of his mind. and as he holds you to his chest, warm hand on the small of your back, he sighs deeply…

a man of action deserves rest

[lazyjellyfish300]

just a man

Synopsis: on the night of Shibuya, Kusakabe wrestles with his obligation to aid his fellow sorcerers and risk his life. Normally the pretty bartender that he and Kento both like to share after hours, he decides to visit you alone before he does. Spinoff of a drabble I made.

Words: 6.1k 🖤

CW: MINORS DNI, XFEM!READER, SMUT(P IN V, SEMI PUBLIC PDA (ELEVATOR) FINGERING, CUM EATING, DOGGY STYLE, BREAST & NIPPLE PLAY, SPANK, ROUGH SEX, ORAL F RECEIVING) DANGER, LITTLE ANGST, CANON DIVERGENCE, MIGHT BE SPOILERS

A/n: yes, this is a repost. Since the original failed to show in the tags. Trying to see if this will get more interaction. Thank you for reading if this is your first time 🫶🏽 and my deepest most gracious thank you to those who did already read and reblog and comment.

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer

The dampened streets of Shinjuku are far from asleep despite the nighttime wandering into the darkened hours past midnight.

A chill laced with something ominous in the late petrichor-ridden air of October delivered a rush of restlessness throughout Atsuya Kusakabe's body as he stared into the night, the illuminating residual of neon signs painting a a rosy halo around his form.

His darkened eyes solemnly scan the crowds of young passerbys donning their eclectic outfits in light of the Halloween holiday, joyfully ignorant to the heavy knowledge he possessed of a greater storm that was brewing in the district of Tokyo just south of where he stood.

He got the call, he just didn't want to go. Truthfully, why was he needed when other first grade sorcerers such as the likes of Kento Nanami were already there?

There was something different about tonight's mission. He could feel it. He spent his whole life running from things that seemed so big and insurmountable. Yet he chose a life that regularly brushed elbows with danger.

The modern pressures of life can cause one to make choices uncharacteristic of them in the name of survival.

He was being selfish, but was wanting to stay alive really a selfish thing to want? Or was it a wise and sensible thing to hope for?

Jujutsu Sorcery didn't need to be this big dramatic display of self-sacrifice all the time. Chasing nobility in hopes of carrying the outward label of martyr while you wouldn't even be alive to see it was a fool's errand in his eyes. But it clashed with the institution he committed to whose sole mission was to produce sorcerers capable of such selfless acts to serve the non-sorcerer sphere of humankind.

What kind of hypocrite would he be if he failed to show up for the battle he'd beaten every last lesson in the book of preparedness into the mind of his students?

Before he joins them, he figures he'll make one more stop.

It might be the last time after all, experiencing that divine warmth your eyes exuded that made moments feel like a lifetime. Temporary solace he sought somewhere at the bottom of a glass and between the smoky haze and sensual opulence of an upscale bar past midnight.

Pretty eyes and a mouth that dripped salvation onto his throbbing cock in between sheets that smelled like you and him, delivering him to a heaven on Earth even better than the one in the clouds, one where jujutsu didn't exist.

He just wanted to feel like a man one more time. He would walk the formidable road of danger that was expected of him, but he'd do it on his own terms and at his own leisure.

It was his life, after all. Who could blame him?

He turned and made his way down the alley of Shinjuku suited for self pleasure and indulgence, ironically in the opposite direction of the selfless weight of the noble duty that called him.

------

Kusakabe stepped inside to be greeted with the familiar atmosphere of the lavish art deco styled speakeasy where you worked. It was one of many spots in the district where upper classes came to unwind, the motivation of tonight propelled by the autumnal festivities after dark.

The air hung heavy with allure and old money swank that was brought out by worldly imbibement and blackened clouds of burning tobacco from expensive cigars, smooth jazz, clinks of glass and murmured speech, occasionally interrupted with hearty belly laughter coming from certain patrons.

Dim booths that felt mobby with men in fine linen suits, running their gold adorned fingers over the suggestive hosiery of their female companionship. Intimate secrets whispered in ears and lustful gazes over lipstick stained glass rims.

"Hey, darlin...aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

You hear his deep, rough voice behind you. You turn gracefully, flashing the handsome acquaintance that disarming smile of yours, noticing his usual, equally handsome companion was not with him.

"Hiya, Kusa! Just you tonight?"

"Just me tonight, doll..." Rugged charm oozes out of his expression, sitting on one of the bar stools directly across from you, a masculine spice gently wafting from him as he opens his coat, stripping it off and handing it to a passing butler who bows and promptly walks away. "Hope that's alright."

"It's more than alright, handsome." You touch his arm and his heart flutters. "Be right back, okay?"

He feels a swell of pride to his ego and he smirks. "Take your time, angel, but don't keep me waiting long, ya hear?"

"I won't, Kusa." You flirtatiously pout your lips.

He looks at you fondly and sits back in his chair as he raises the fresh glass of bourbon to his lips, those oaky eyes lingering on your form as you float away into the haze of smoke and the low enchanting light of the ritzy air of tonight as he loosens his tie.

----

Hours later, he beckons you closer when it appears you have a minute to spare and the initial buzz of the night has started to burn out, having graduated to a darker corner of the bar accented by the elegant polished mahogany.

He's clearly in the mood to flirt which you can place immediately with the way he's leaning towards you and how his eyes possess a gleam of playfulness.

But, he wasn't going to be a dick about it. He turns his considerate attention towards you to inquire about your current state,

"How's your week been, sweetheart?" He asks, honey dripping from his voice.

Your lips curl upwards and he all but fails to remove his hungry gaze from the inviting way your gloss makes them look so plump.

"My week has been alright, thank you for asking, Kusa. But a little tiring if I'm honest."

"Mm? Tell me about it."

He can't help but notice you seem a little guarded, as though you were carrying it in your shoulders, keeping him at arms length. He knew from the stiff curve of your smile that you weren't letting him all the way in.

He studies you, tilting his head. "I don't bite, y'know doll..."

You shake your head, scrunching your nose in false coy as you wipe down the bar, "I know you don't, handsome...." Your eyes sharpen briefly as you focus on a stubborn spot.

"....just not used to seeing you here without Kento."

Ah, of course, Kento.

"Heh...you do have a special liking for Kento, don't ya, sweetheart?" He inquiries light-heartedly, raising his glass to his lips.

You shrug, although the shy expression and the warmth you feel in your cheeks gives you away.

"Maybe, I mean, he's very sweet. And handsome..."

Kusakabe smirks while clapping a hand against his chest in feigned offense,

"What 'bout me, doll? I'm not?"

You unseriously roll your eyes as you crack your bar rag against the polished wood before tossing it into the soiled bucket underneath.

"No! Of course you are, Kusa..." You lean in with a sunny smile, your fingers dance along his forearm before you give it a squeeze.

He feels his heart patter in his chest but he disguises it with another smirk,

"M'just giving ya a hard time, doll. I apologize..."

He takes another long sip of his drink, ice cubes leaving his thin lips wet with bourbon as he sighs.

It was no secret that women loved Kento, and you were no exception. Truth was, he was used to being compared to him, but he gave up long ago trying to fill the shoes of Kento Nanami, both in their pursuits as sorcerers and in courting women.

But, despite the sinful arrangement of sharing a pretty woman like you after hours with Kento (that he considered all good in fair fun), sometimes after the heat died down and the throes of passion became more crystal clear as you laid sandwiched between him and his comrade, he found himself falling asleep wondering what it would be like if he had you all to himself.

He eyes you pensively before he looks down, fishing out a fresh lollipop from his pocket and unwrapping it.

"I am a little rough with ya, aren't I?" He sticks the pink lemonade flavored sucker in his mouth.

You grin again, looking down as though the motion could keep the internal fluster at bay.

"I mean, I don't mind that, it's just that he's..."

"More gentle?" He asks, leaning in a little closer to you, moving the stick of the lollipop to the other side of his mouth with smooth intrigue. The soft manner of his question throws you for a loop as you gaze back at him.

There's something curious in his eyes that you haven't seen from him before.

He places his hand on top of yours.

It somehow felt more intimate despite the fact he's explored the deepest parts of you, and seen your face as he and his friend delivered you to heaven countless times before.

"I can be gentle, too, doll..."

He whispers. He notices goosebumps raise on your arm above where he's tracing broad shapes with his thumb on the back of your hand.

Your pretty lips gently part, your bottom lip catching on the tempting shine of your lip gloss.

Kusakabe groans, the heat traveling swiftly in his body and down to his pants.

He has you right where he wants you and he prays you'll stay with him tonight.

"I could show you..." He smiles. "How 'bout I take you somewhere after this, beautiful?"

He notes your slight hesitation. Somehow it felt a little more intimidating knowing it was just him this time. Keeping in mind the rough sex he preferred made you feel slightly weary, since you were used to Kento's gentle and more giving touch to balance it out.

But, here he was promising to show you a good time with just him, and if sweet and slow was what you wanted, he'd give it to you.

"Promise I'll take good care of ya, doll..." He reassures. "You'll be safe with me. We'll go at your pace and if you wanna stop, we'll stop."

You smile and can't help but feel the warmth trickling through your shoulders, the soft way he's looking at you, a man with a gruff shell gazing at you like you're an ethereal goddess sprawled from the sea whom he's cajoling from the cerulean curtains of ocean foam to meet land for the first time.

Asking you like he's only barely allowed to breathe in your presence despite bedding you several times before, and the dark, enchanting brown of his eyes only adds to the flame.

You can't say no to him.

You smile with silent confirmation, and he grins, bringing the back of your hand against his mouth,

"You're an angel, sweetheart, thank you... I'll be waiting out front for ya."

"Okay Kusa, I just need to cash out my drawer but I'll be right there!"

"Course, baby. Take your time. I'll be right outside." He gives you one more charming smile before he retrieves his coat, leaving your mind reeling above the clouds.

----

The hotel lobby is equally stuffy but it's heavy and sensual, mirroring the opulence of the speakeasy you just came from, maintaining this area of Shinjuku's reputation for catering to those donning white collars in the upper ranks of wealth.

A couple patrons sit at the bar, cigarette smoke in casual clouds dusting the high embossed gold of the marble ceilings, dull candlelight and vintage luxury on jade velvet couches, tall palm leaves in obsidian pots and dry martinis swirling against the translucent glass as they spoke in low voices.

Kusakabe has you tucked under his arm, his fingers barely ghosting the curve of your ass as his hand sits low on the soft flesh of your hip.

"You wearin that new set Kento and I bought ya, angel...?" His fingers tease along your collarbone.

Your skin prickles with goosebumps and your stomach twists with the promise of what's to come. "Yes, Kusa..."

"Good girl...gonna have to keep it on when I'm going down on ya, sweetheart..."

His husky murmurings in intimate volume only you can hear emulsifies your insides into honey as he slowly stokes the flame, getting you nice and warmed up.

"So pretty, doll. You're always so stunning."

His lips brush the shell of your ear as soon the elevator doors close. You turn to him with heavy lidded eyes and your lips crash together in a frenzy of pent up lust.

He groans into the kiss, his tongue exploring the glossy seam of your lips before you open them and he prods inside with steady, building intention and want. He explores carefully while clutching both sides of your neck tenderly, the whiskey lending itself to his movements, slightly sloppy but somehow it made things even more steamy between you as you drowned in the spicy taste of bourbon with undertones of the sweet pink lemonade sucker weaved in his mouth.

You feel his palms slide under the hem of your shirt, gently replacing it with the subtle chill from his skin sliding up your stomach until both hands come to reside on the soft mounds of your breasts, greeting them with deliberate, teasing swipes of his thumbs over your responsive nipples, leaving a column of goosebumps shooting up your spine as it arched.

Your eyes roll back at the sensual feeling of his growing cock through his pants as he softly ruts his hips against you.

You two stay locked like that for several steamy moments accentuated by the exaggerated pants into each other's mouths as you hump one another in the quiet elevator, his forehead rests against yours, jaw slack as he watches you melt underneath his hands, the epicenter of pleasure radiating from how he's groping your breasts and rubbing his hips against your ass in just the right way that it carries such irresistible preview of the fervor and passion he promised to fuck you with for real as soon as the door to your suite closed behind you.

Without warning, his hand wanders to your sex, his molten gaze remains locked on you. You whine loudly and suck in air between your teeth.

"Fuck..." He hisses as he feels his cock elongate all at once, strained under the confines of his pants. You wiggle for a moment in his grasp, trying to align the pressure of his hand with your throbbing clit. The delicious discovery of which you announce with another trembling moan.

"Kusa..." You feebly whisper, the publicity of the sexy act, dwindling time of the elevator's ascent before it reaches your floor, and the union of friction between Kusakabe's skilled hand and your clit place you in serious danger of cumming for him in your pants.

"Hold on f'me, angel..." The corner of his mouth twitches with satisfaction.

"Kusa, please..."

"I know doll...." He kisses your throat. "Just teasin ya for a bit..."

"Kusa, slow..."

"I know, doll, I remember..."

You jaw falls open as a low purr escapes your throat, the ending accentuated by a whine as his finger moves at a coaxing tempo.

"Nice...n' slow..." He whispers, his words rolling off his tongue in devastating synchronization of his movements over your clit, before two of his fingers slip beautifully inside you with a deep moan.

Just as you thought you were beginning to bloom, he withdraws his hand swiftly and stuffs it in his pocket, the movement and quick emptiness making you wobble on your feet.

He catches you with his other arm, pulling you against him as the doors slide open with a ding. An older couple nods politely as they step in, seemingly unfazed by your clearly disheveled clothes and wild eyed expression.

Kusakabe merely smirks as he guides you out of the elevator and down the hall to your awaiting room.

-----

You can't help but sigh deeply as your lips connect with Kusakabe's again.

This felt divine after a long day. He could feel his worries dissipate and dissolve into the air that began to hang heavily around you, not allowing his lips to disconnect from yours even for a second as he removed his coat, stripping yours off you with careful precision, the sensual sound of the fabric hitting the floor.

You were plunging headfirst into a sea that swallowed you whole completely, lost to the tides of lust.

As your head hits the pillow of the king sized bed, you weave your fingers in the loops of his belt to occupy your hands while he quicky moved to unbutton your shirt. You shivered as you felt the fleeting graze of his fingers against your breasts that were slowly becoming revealed to him. Your sudden movement interrupts his trance, briefly, only to remember the promise he made you earlier.

"Sorry, doll..." He murmurs, his wet lips move to the corner of your mouth as he gently circulates his hands that contain your soft breasts in them in wordless appreciation. "...this still okay?"

"Mhmm...." You weakly mewl out, all sense of your surroundings trickle down the drain when he begins fondling your tits, struggling to maintain control over the volume of your moans, "Tha-that'so good, Kusa...hard to be quiet when it feels so good..."

"Fuck em..." He groans as you arch your back. "Keep moanin for me like that, angel..."

Kusakabe closes his eyes, both your foreheads resting against one another as though he could absorb your warmth. Your little pants and whimpers egg him on as he plays with your breasts but he remains chained to his word to take things slow.

"Kusaaa...."

But that particular breathy utterance of his name that fell from your lips causes him to dip his head down, his hands guiding your bra straps down to easily move the lacey cups as he took your left breast in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing and your head gently rolling back as his tongue slowly lapped at your nipple.

Your hand flies to his bulge, massaging and feeling him up through his slacks. Another groan rumbles in his chest, the deep pitch prompting you quickly to clench your thighs. You sigh when his mouth departs your left breast, leaving the nipple perky with a wet pucker and sloppy kiss, moving to the right.

His eyes flicker up and remain trained on you every so often. Watching you slowly be reduced to putty little by little with every warm, wet brush of his tongue, bathing your breasts in worship with his wanton mouth.

You begin to grow impatient, your weeping cunt desperately begging to be full of him, the heated foreplay giving you more than enough preparation to take him, but he continues loving on you like this without pause for several heavenly minutes.

"Kusa, baby...can't take it...need your cock, Kusa..."

"Mhhnnn.....hold on, doll...I've still gotta taste ya..."

Kusakabe's fingers trail to your black skirt, greeting the plush of your stomach with a kiss. "This okay?" He checks in gently again. You nod and he slides off your skirt and pantyhose, leaving the deep emerald lace of the panties he bought for you exposed to his hungry eyes.

"God, you're something..." He whispers.

"So are you, Kusa..."

"Oh yeah?" He purrs, running a finger along the sheer fabric that only scantily hid your wetting sex away from him as he wet his lips. He unbuttons his shirt, dipping his head down before slowly inhaling your scent.

"What am I, angel?"

You feel the pad of his thumb hook underneath the gusset.

"You're...."

A moan is ripped out of your throat the minute his tongue teases the outer delicate flesh of your pussy. "Kusa..."

"Go on, baby..." He teases a kiss to the soft mound.

"You're...so good..." Your toes curl as his tongue glides between your arousal dripped folds. "Ohhhh you're so fucking sexy, Atsuya..."

"Ffffuck me doll..." He turns you on your stomach. "You can say my name like that all night long."

He removes his shirt completely, pulls your panties to the right and leans in, kissing and kneading the tender fat. One of his hands frees his aching cock.

"Atsuya....mmm, Atsuya..."

"Such a gorgeous ass..." He groans, moving the panties slightly as he frees and slides his cock between your asscheeks, loving how the globes envelope around it, the second best thing he loved seeing wrapped around his cock, besides the warm silky walls of your cunt.

"Gotta be my favorite part of you, angel..." He leans over, swirling his tongue against your shoulder blade before punctuating it with a tender kiss, blazing a long trail down your spine, provoking you to arch for him again.

Kusakabe groans at your responsiveness and bestowing him the beautiful sight of your ass in the air again. When he reaches the bottom, he gives he gives your asscheek another tender squeeze in preparation.

"Relax for me, doll..."

The hinge in your jaw slowly unravels, going slack completely as Kusakabe begins eating your pussy from the back. You feel his nose push against the slit, completely and shamelessly coating his face with your arousal. His tongue wettens the seam of your folds, exploring them like a paintbrush against a canvas. You let yourself grind on his tongue, the languid laps of him stroking your sensitive flesh making you ache for the sweet stretch of his cock, settling for the sensation of his nose brushing the sides of your clit instead. He groans and you feel the low purr reverberate against your pussy and you respond to the delectable sensation by sticking your ass even more into his face.

Somehow the fact that he was tongue fucking you while just pulling your panties to the side made it even sexier.

"Christ, babydoll..." He chuckles huskily. "You're soakin f'me..."

"Atsuya, baby..."

"Ohh...angel. M'right here..." He senses your body moving closer to the edge, as he has several times. He moves his tongue quicker, moving his hand to start pressing on your clit. The pad of his index finger was doused immediately in the slick, producing a breathy cry from your lungs, your legs twitching as he hangs you on the edge of sweet release, massaging the tender nub as it grew puffier from the stimulation.

"Atsuya! "You whine. "F-fuck me please, oh please!"

"Mmmm...gotta cum f'me first..." He leans over you, licking the shell of your ear while his finger gently toys with your clit. "That's it, thaat's it. Lemme have it, doll..."

He kisses your shoulder. "Cum on my fingers, babygirl..."

Your fingers dig into the pillow as you gush on his hand. He chuckles softly, bringing his hand to his mouth, the lewd sound of his fingers popping from his cheeks as he tastes your love.

"Here, lookit me, angel..." He gently turns your chin with his other hand, barely prodding his fingers against the seam of your soft lips. "Taste yourself..."

You groan, drunk off the haze of post orgasm bliss as you taste his fingers, letting your tongue lick all over them and saliva dribble out of the corners of your mouth like a cock hungry slut.

"Mmm..." you purr with heavy eyelids. "So yummy, Kusa..."

His cock twitches, a generous bead of precum leaking from the tip. He kisses your temple.

"So gorgeous doll, such a perfect, naughty girl f'me..."

A whine halfway squeezes out, getting caught in your throat as you feel him discard your panties completely before he begins to swirl the broad tip of his cock at your weeping entrance and you hear the sound of his trousers falling completely on the floor behind you.

"Kusa..." You bite your lip. "Make love to me..."

"I will beautiful..." He purrs, leaning in and nuzzling his face against your ear. "Kiss me, angel..."

You lips meet and you groan when more of your lingering taste in his mouth melts onto your tongue. He kisses you deeply as his cock begins to delve into your warm cunt from behind. You pant slightly into the kiss as you feel him stretch you. Your velvet walls hugging his cock, slowly sucking him in.

"S'alright..." He breathes into your mouth. "S'alright doll..." He kisses you softly, sloppily, more deeply to distract you from his size.

"Doin so good....so good, pretty..." He coos roughly.

You feel yourself surrender little by little, the ridged, sinful feeling of the veins of his cock massaging your plush walls, delivering euphoria from the heavenly friction. You released a breathy moan in tandem with the husky grunt he makes in your ear when he eventually bottoms out inside of you.

He pauses and you feel the generous length twitch, making you bite your lip. He sits up a bit, reverently, admiring the sight of himself buried deeply into you from behind.

Your beautiful ass all spread out in front of him, pussy molded to his cock like it was meant for him. Like this was truly the first time he was giving himself to you. The other times before paling in comparison to this exclusive moment with you, all to himself.

He groans and runs his palms over the expanse of your ass, cementing the image in his psyche permanently before leaving a couple small kisses on your lower back.

"M'gonna start moving, doll..." He whispers, interlacing his fingers in between yours on the pillow.

You feel his chest press into your back as his hips retreat slightly. A quiet, filthy squelch from the buildup of arousal around the base, before he rapidly presses his cock back inside you in one deep fell swoop with a wet plop.

"Mmm...Kusa..." You moan as he feeds you stroke, after slow stroke. The prolonged time between thrusts, the increased drag of his cock carried promise that was quickly fulfilled so deliciously and deeply with each time he thrust inside you. The tempo was smooth, soft. It was erotically intimate, his lips brushing your ear, cradling your chin in his hand while he slowly fucked you.

"Fuck...fuck.....mnnnnhhh...baby, grippin' me so tight..."

You let his presence overpower you, nothing in this moment besides being under this man, this rugged, fine man showing a side of himself that surely had your mind and body falling for him, and letting him fuck you deeply with his cock.

"So damn beautiful....so pretty..." He gently grips your throat.

You feel yourself dripping, your pussy hungrier for more connection, more intensity as the pleasure began to flood you from the inside.

"H-Harder, Kusa..."

Kusakabe groans, tapering into a breathy chuckle as he scoffed.

"Wanted it nice n'slow all night, n'now you're wantin' me to go rough on ya, doll?"

He teases as he nibbles your ear, the slow pumps of his cock unrelenting, until he gives one abrupt, sharp thrust that sets every nerve on fire and brain fogged with euphoria.

"Ohhhhh.....God yes...yes Kusa... harder....faster...please!"

He moans deeply, his hips picking up the pace. When you begged so sweetly for him, he couldn't do anything but say no.

"Shit, baby...." His fingers press into your cheek, bringing your face closer to his, his hoarse pants in your ear as he drilled his cock into you from behind.

"Gonna be real hard to last much longer if you keep beggin..."

His thumb slips into your mouth and you moan graciously. The new pace felt heavenly but you needed more. More rough, more dirty. Moving past taking things slow and soft to just having him absolutely fuck all sense out of you.

"Harder, Kusa..."

And a switch goes off, taking the liberty of reverting back to his usual style of rough and fast, but with no shortage of passion and pleasure as he wound his fingers tightly into your hair, using his other hand to grip your hip and pull you into his feverish thrusts.

Your asscheeks clap together as he pounds your pussy into the mattress, moving from keeping his hands in your hair and his lips brushing your ear to sitting back on his heels, pressing your cheek into the mattress with a hand on the back of your neck and fucking you at a harsher angle.

You moan and pant loudly releasing an unending chant of his name, "Kusa....fuck Kusa....so good, so good..."

"Fuck..." He smacks your ass, his chest coated in a sheen of sweat as he sits back like a king, watching his slick covered cock slide rapidly in and out of your soaked pussy, the entire length disappearing and nearly completely pulling out before abruptly driving back into you.

"Keep taking my cock beautiful.... that's it, thaaat's it." He closes his eyes, tossing his head back momentarily as he senses his release right around the corner.

"Gonna paint this gorgeous ass all over with my cum..." He leans in. "You want that don't you, doll...? Tell me you want it..."

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, his thrusts slowing down considerably but the length of each stroke remaining long and agonizingly deep, nearly reaching your cervix every time with every deep roll of his hips.

"Want it Kusa...want your cum..."

"Say you want me..." He whispers.

"I want you, Atsuya. Fuck me so good and cum just for me, please, baby..."

"Jesus... FUCK!"

He pulls out quickly, grunting as his hand grips his shaft, coaxing long generous ropes of milky white cum all over your ass and lower back, his voice hoarse as he pants with exhaustion.

You stay there, frozen, numbly, panting as well as you untangle from the throes of pleasure.

"Hold on, doll..." Kusakabe gets up, flashing a very pleasant view of his back and cute backside, a scar here and there imprinted in between the ridges of muscle.

He returns with a towel, wiping up his cum and then kissing your shoulder before he climbs into bed with you, running a hand through his hair as he pulls you into his chest.

"Here..." He gestures for you to sit up, unclasping your lacey bra that had remained on during the entire time, both of you sighing deeply as your bare skin met in sensual bliss underneath the sheets.

"Much better..." You say softly, closing your eyes.

Kusakabe smiles tenderly at you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "You're too good to me, sweetheart." He sighs again as his nails brush your upper arm in haphazard circles. "Thank you."

"Anytime, Kusa." You look up at him and smile sweetly, a playful look in your eye that says the late hour hasn't gotten to you just yet.

He hums, drinking in your features, a finger winding its way amidst a stray piece of hair framing your face. As his mind becomes less clouded, he remembers his obligations in Shibuya and his phone in his pocket that must have dozens of notifications by now, a subtle feeling of dread beginning to assemble in his lower belly.

He wished he could shatter time.

You look up at him, taking in his warm irises, his musk that remained subtly laced in his aftershave, his sharp jaw. You could sense a shift, a hidden disquieting energy simmering in his silence.

"You okay, Atsuya?"

He looks at you balancing your chin on his shoulder, a pleasant expression tugging at his mouth at the pretty sight of you staring up at him.

"Yeah..." He leans in kissing you. "Yeah, m’alright, doll, you? Ya tired?"

"Good..." You murmur, pausing with your eyes closed after his lips retreated a short distance from yours, gently shaking your head. "I'm okay. Do you have to go tonight, Kusa…?”

Kusakabe sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as you asked him a question he still did not have a concrete answer to.

"I might...but the room's booked for the night as always, you're welcome to stay..."

He looks down at you, a bit of concern in his eyes at the sight of your slight disappointment at his answer.

Not wanting you to feel used, he tries to reassure you.

"But I'm in no rush..." He gives you a warm smile, gently squeezing your inner thighs. "You're not ready to get some sleep yet?"

"No..." a playfulness marks your pupils which Kusakabe picks up the underlying implications immediately. "I could lose another hour, or two."

"Could you now?" Kusakabe's eyebrows crinkle with mischief, shoving thoughts of Shibuya aside once he had something much less grim, much more lovelier, much more intimate, enticing, and alluring beckoning for his attention once again.

"Mhmm.." a faint smirk begins to curl on your lips.

"That's good.." Kusakabe whispers.

You moan weakly as he lets your thighs fall open and he begins softly rubbing your clit once again, his lips brushing your ear.

"Cause right now, I have all the time in the world."

-----

Your eyes close and flicker open quickly, the disorient of sleep confusing you momentarily, realizing that at least a couple hours must have passed despite the seeming blink of an eye.

A little bit of disappointment creeps onto your face when you see Kusakabe silently dressing, pulling his white dress shirt over his broad bare shoulders that outlined against the faint glow of empire city lights behind the drawn silk curtains.

"Where are you going, Kusa?"

He is alerted to your awake state, sighs, and turns as he manages a smile.

"Gotta take care of some business in Shibuya, angel. You know how it is." He melts a little bit when you take his hand and pull him closer, pressing your cheek against it.

"Don't go, Kusa..."

He groans a little bit. Why'd you have to be so damn sweet?

All at once, he's aware of something odd. A feeling for you he didn't quite place before. Something that lasted beyond just the wrinkled sheets, the low light and seductive atmosphere of the bedroom. Something real that transcended the sensuality of the night and remained in the morning when you could wake up side by side together. And, as you look up at him now, he knows he's screwed.

"Believe me, I don't wanna go either, doll..." He sighs deeply as you start slowly kissing his palm.

Fuck, and you had the nerve to do it while looking dead at him with those lovely twinkling eyes of yours.

"Would much rather stay in this bed with you..."

His eyes nearly pop out of his skull when you press his palm against your breast. He's immediately unable to resist squeezing it as you pull him back on top of you, still fully dressed, the rough fleece of his brown coat on top of your soft, naked body.

"Fuck, don't look at me like that, doll. Y'know what that does to me..." He mumbles weakly as you kiss each other deeply, before he pulls away briefly for air.

For a moment suspended in the passion, all you see is warmth staring back at you and it simultaneously dawns on him.

Moments like these were worth staying alive for, worth not risking his life tonight for. An angel like you. Someone he could idle hours away with. Learning one another. Sharing space with someone he didn't mind tangling souls with for a bit. Softness and warmth and connection.

Could you be his?

"When will I see you again?" You whisper, brushing your nose against his.

Kusakabe kisses your hand. "Soon, angel. You'll see me real soon..."

"Kusa..."

He groans, a cloak of protectiveness over you that completely overwhelms him as he hugs you tightly one more time.

"Be safe, okay? You'll watch out for Kento too, right, Kusa?" You murmur against his chest, drinking in the oasis of his spiced cologne along with the smell of the city when rain mixes with smoke until you can imbibe in each other again.

Kusakabe looks at you, the round tips of his fingers combing the circle of your face.

"Course I will, doll." He smiles bittersweetly, knowing your confidence you had in him betrayed any he had in himself.

But he'd try. He'd try his very best, for you.

"Get some sleep, angel. I'll be back for you soon..."

He whispers as he leaves you tucked in the billowy white sheets that clung the scent of your reunion that slowly coaxes you to sleep.

-----

He sighs as he wearily steps onto the midnight saturated street with the weight of something finally greater than himself that he left buried in that warm master bed in that grand hotel.

He puts one foot in front of the other as he gloomily trudges in the direction of the Shibuya district, thoughts of your eyes guiding every step as he quietly ponders the foreboding unknown that lay ahead.

[suika-suigetsu]

Hey just wanted to ask, Can you do something like Log and Mitsuki walking on SuiKa doing romantic stuffs like kissing or something, with like Suigetsu and Karin blushing as crazy to be found, Log being "omg" or filming bc he made a bet with juugo or just covering Mitsuki eyes, and just Mitsuki being Mitsuki

Sorry for the long text, Hope you'll see it, feel free to not accept it if you wanna, of course

Your art is amazing as ever

I'm sorry for taking so long (I think your request is the oldest one I've been wanting to make 🥹) and thank you for liking my art! 🩷🩷🩷🩷

I loved your idea so much, but I always complicate things, so I was thinking "Karin can feel people's chakra approaching, so how would she get caught...?" so I thought about making Karin just not care if someone catches her because she's so focused... lol.

And I also wanted to create a caught-in-the-dark scenario where Mitsuki could make an innocent childish comment (??) haha, well, that's how it turned out.

(The Ministry of Human Rights warns that there was no violation here, Suigetsu is having a lot of fun 💖)

[niya-writesshit]

cowboy!artdonaldson x fem!reader

based on this request :

Anonymous asked:

art donaldson cowboy au where he works as a ranch hand for your dad.... and then he fucks u in ur daddy's grand farm mansion when he isn't home. hello im hard! ~ 🌸

TW: use of y/n (1), smut MDNI - oral (f receiving), swearing, not proofread

word count: 2264 (THIS IS SO LONG WHAT THE FUCK)

¡! ❞ a/n: uh im bricked anon! also basically dodge mason and panic reference! and this is kinda shit im sowwy. REPOST BC LAST TIME IT FLOPPED AND IDK WHY.

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

there was something about your pretty little accent that got art's damn mind spinning. clear, sort of clipped and lilting, the typa accent one could only get from living in the big old city of new york. you were his boss's daughter, which made it all the more sinful when he imagined that accent in... other (less proper) situations he shouldn't've been. unlike the other ranch-hands, he kept a polite distance. he didn't leer or ogle at you as you walked by — his momma taught him better than that — but he sure as hell wanted to as you bent down to pick up something from the front seat of your convertible. tiny little white skirt rising higher and higher and higher and higher and art was hooked. oh how he would love to ruin you, daddy's dear little girl visiting carp for the summer. oh how he would love to grab you by those meaty thighs, defile you 'till you were crying his name. oh how he would love.

he trudges through the mud up to the ranch house, all done for the day and ready to wash up in the worker's quarters in the back. his legs feel like lead after hours of wrangling the cattle and fixing fences in the blistering sun. the thin flannel he wore today clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat. before he even gets to look in mirror, he knows his face is all ruddy-like and burnt, even though his hat supposed to be protecting the damn sunburn that made his cheeks string.

he splashed cold water on his face. he grabbed an old rag to wipe his face, just about ready to head to the showers, when he heard it—that damn voice, right behind him.

he turned, and there you were. standing in the doorway, looking a little out of place in your crisp, white summer dress. your eyes scanned the tiny room like you weren’t sure if you should be there or not, and art figured you probably didn’t have much reason to be back here.

you gave a sheepish smile. "hi… i, uh, think i got a little lost. do you know where the main house is?"

he’d dreamed 'bout this moment before, though maybe not quite like this. you, standing there all pretty, looking gorgeous in your spotless attire, while he was still dripping in sweat and grime. the polite distance he’d vowed to keep suddenly felt a lot tougher to maintain now that you were looking at him, lips slightly parted as you waited for an answer.

he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to focus on your face. "main house is back that way," he drawled, pointing out the direction you missed. his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. "reckon you took a wrong turn."

you smiled wider, stepping a bit closer. damn near makes him swallow his own tongue. "thanks," you reply, your tone light, conversational. "still trying to figure out my way around."

art nodded, eyes flicking up to meet yours, though his heart was beating faster than it should’ve been. he shifted on his feet, gaze shifting from your eyes down to your lips down to your chest down to your thighs down to — back to your eyes.

"i can walk you back if you want," he offered, tipping his hat back slightly, trying to stay cool about it, but hell, you already had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know it.

you gave him a slow nod, tongue flitting out to lick at your lips. "i'd appreciate that, thank you."

as the two of you made your way back to the main house, art tried his best not to tip over sideways at the sheer thought of you being this close to him. he feels like a pathetic little dog, all worked up over you just walking in line with him, brushing your arm against his every once in awhile. he's so focused on keeping his cheeks from flushing that he doesn't hear you the first time.

"hello?"

art blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. "huh? oh, sorry, darlin' —didn’t catch that."

you tilted your head slightly, a playful smile on your lips as you repeated your question. "what's your name? i'm y/n."

"art," he cursed himself for his curt response, but you didn't seem to notice, bright smile still holding as you nodded.

"nice to meet you, art." your gaze held his with a sort of lingering intensity that unfortunately made art's pants tighten even further than before. "so, what do else do you do here in carp when you're not showing lost city people around?"

art shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. "dunno. i work, i guess."

you roll your eyes slightly and nudge at him with your elbow. "okay. what about for fun?"

art shifted awkwardly, feeling your elbow nudge him gently, sending a spark down his spine. he cleared his throat, "fun?" he repeated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "ain’t much time for that out here, if I’m bein’ honest. mostly work, and maybe a beer with the boys now and then."

you let out a soft laugh, the sound teasing him in all the right ways. "that’s all? no girls? no beautiful maiden waiting around for you to finish all this hard work?"

art swallowed hard. he glanced down at his boots for a second, trying to collect himself, then back at you. "no, ma’am. no one special like that," he muttered. "guess I ain’t much for courtin’ these days."

your lips curved into a lazy smirk. "hmm. that’s a shame. a guy like you? figured the girls would be lined up." your eyes glint with a darkness that art knew all too well. it was the same hungry look he felt in his own gaze, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded with desire.

art rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to flush under the heat of your stare. he bit at the inside of his cheek, his self-restraint fraying as he fought the urge to just jump at you right then and there.

as you neared the main house, art's mind shifted to your father. the last thing he wanted was for the boss to catch wind of any unprofessional behavior. with a deep breath, art managed a strained smile, trying to redirect the rising heat in his chest. "well, here we are. better get you inside before your dad starts wonderin' where you’ve been."

you glanced at him with a smirk, seemingly unfazed as you adjusted your skirt. "funny thing, art," you said, your voice low and sultry, "i think daddy's still out of town. he won't be back 'till tomorrow." you took a step closer, hands reaching out to dust off art's collar.

he swallows hard at the feeling of your finger brushing against his neck. "we got the place to ourselves then, huh?" art drawls, voice rough and husky with barely contained desire.

"looks like it." your arms wrapped around his neck, finger curling around a stray blond locked as you watched art's face contort. deciding, deciding, decided. his hands found your hips, and with a light tap to your thigh, you jumped into his arms, kissing him hard.

your lips were warm and soft, and they parted slightly as art slipped his tongue inside, his one hand scrabbling for the front door handle. it clicked open and he stumbled inside, heading straight for the living room. your fingertips brush softly against his back as he sits down on a couch, letting you straddle him at the hips. he's still sweaty, but you seem to like it, burrowing your head in his neck as he nips at yours, breathing in the sharp, musky smell of him.

the both of you pant heavily as you scrambled to take of his shirt, and then him your dress. art presses slobbery kisses down your chest and torso, salivating at the sight of your little blue panties, pressed down against his crotched. little sighs and moans left your lips as he trailed his fingers along with his mouth, to the very top of your underwear, kissing along the seam. before you can object, he's shifted you over and laid down. "hop on, darlin'," he mumbles, referring to his mouth as you pull off your panties with a crooked finger. hesitantly, you crawl up his chest. apparently not quick enough for art, he hooks an arm around your waist and places you on his face himself, moaning at the pure scent of you.

he starts by kissing the inside of your right thigh, then suckling the inside of your left. he revels in your scent for a few more seconds before burying his face inside you, lapping you up with long, thick licks against your folds. you squeal when you first feel his (clearly) expert tongue against you, flexing and swirling as he find your sweet spots immediately. it hasn't even been 5 seconds when he stops with a pop! - peeking out from under your thighs with a wild expression on his face. his hat is tipped over under him, the rim sticking out from behind his unruly blond locks. "you're hoverin'. " he was right, you were, too scared to put your full weight on this poor man you had met not half an hour ago. "sit on my face, baby, please," he practically whimpers.

and how could you say no? eyes wide, face slick with your juices, looking so goddamn angelic — you couldn't. and even though you were scared to crush him, craving the feeling of his tongue inside you again, you sit — nice and proper this time.

he starts up again with a kind of feverish intensity you could only expect from a starved man. you moan and whimper on his face, scratching against his scalp as you looked for something to grip onto. art groans in pleasure against your folds when you tug at his hair, his grip that of iron as he holds you down by the hips hard enough to bruise. his other hand is groping at your tits, pinching and swirling at the nipples as he watches you shake on his tongue.

his own dick is being completely ignored, even though it's brick-hard and leaking enough pre-cum you can see it through his pants. the only pleasure he needs is your sweet little whines and needy moans as he laps up your juices like your pussy is the holy grail. before you even know it, he's driven you through orgasm after orgasm, happily sucking away at your cunt as you squirm and scream on top of him. "ohmygod, art. oh my fucking god!" your yells are loud enough that your little boyfriends from new york could probably hear you.

and after he's been there for so long your head's rolling, and your clit is swollen and overstimulated, he's finally done, pulling back to rest his face on your thighs. his cheeks leave your own slick against your legs, nose shiny at the tip but with a big old stupid grin on his face. you're panting, pussy throbbing and puffy as you rake your fingers though his hair, looking down at him with your mouth agape. "holy shit, art."

his grin grows even wider as he watches you, fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hips as you struggle to compose yourself. "am i good?" he asks, already certain of the answer, but eager to boost his ego even more.

you nod, eyes dazed and glossy as you ran your hands over his cheeks. "so good, art. holy fucking hell." you could already hear him boasting to all the other ranch hands in his stupidly attractive little southern accent — i made that city girl cum 5 times on my tongue!

he nods slowly in response, pretty eyes looking up at you all proud. "that's what i like to hear, darlin'."

the next thing he heard made his heart sink all the way from where it was, up in the clouds all dazed, to his stomach. the front door click open, and the booming voice of your father, "baby, i'm home!"

you'd heard it before him, and you jumped off of his chest and pulled your dress back on before poor art even had time to register what was happening. you sat straight up next to him, looking perfect — albeit a little red, as your terrifyingly massive father stomped into the room. his expression changed from exhaustion to pure anger as he took in art, sprawled half-way up on the couch, shirt off and hair a mess. "what the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared from across the room.

"get out of my damn house!" your father bellowed. art scrambled off of the couch, grabbing his hat from under his head. clumsy and hurried as he fumbled with his shirt. you were too stunned to move, thighs still throbbing, as he sprinted out of the back door before your father could make it to him. the barrel of a man slammed the door behind him, making you wince.

as art scurried down the backyard and past the worker's quarters, shirt still off and hat placed haphazardly on his head, the first thoughts in his head was — 'i am so fucking sacked.'the next ones placed a lazy smile on his face. 'goddamn, that was worth it.'

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

¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

¡! ❞ a/n: i believe this is the longest thing i've written on this blog everyone applaud!

[saphfix]

THE ART OF WINNING

01. WINNER’S MENTALITY

“WHEN YOU HEAR THE PHRASE WINNER’S MENTALITY, WHAT IS THE FIRST THING THAT COMES TO MIND?”

“Uh…” Anastasia nervously laughs, her mind shooting to one specific moment in her life. “Pretty much being told at sixteen years old that I wasn’t good enough, and never would be good enough.”

The interviewer nods, signaling for Anastasia to continue on. She shifts uncomfortably before clearing her throat to continue.

“Getting invited to USA Basketball was my dream come true. For a young basketball player—even for older basketball players—it feels like a rite of passage, a message to yourself that you’ve made it.”

Anastasia fiddles with her hands, the memory flooding back to her. “And that was the case for me, except, it didn’t take very long at all for it to end up becoming my worst nightmare instead.”

MAY 25TH, 2017

OLYMPIC TRAINING CENTER

COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO

The first day jitters were not wearing off. All day long they’ve seemed to have only gotten worse. It amazed Anastasia how people could connect with one another so easily.

One person in specific, Paige Bueckers, had everyone’s attention. The girl was already a well-known name, and was as close as a 15 year old could be to a professional.

But what really intrigued Anastasia about her was her charisma. How she managed to form friendships with some of the other girls who were also trying out in just a span of hours.

It took Anastasia years to connect with her highschool teammates back home, and she still isn’t nearly as close to any of them as they are with each other.

She watched on alone in the corner of the cafeteria, sliding her food around her plate in circles. Paige on the other hand, somehow had a full table of girls surrounding her, every single one of them laughing and reacting to whatever show she was currently putting on.

It was never that easy for Anastasia, and she fears it never will be.

When practice resumed, she instantly felt much better. That’s the beauty of a basketball court, when you’re on it everyone is the same, at least to a certain extent. It’s safe to say there are levels to it all, just like everything else in this world. Some people turn into an entirely different person when they step onto the laminated wood, but Anastasia doesn’t have that switch. It’s the thing that sets her apart from everyone else.

She’s static, always the same.

After returning to the bench for a group rotation, Anastasia was quick to notice the body language of the girl seated next to her. As soon as she sat down, the girl slightly turned away, as if Anastasia disgusted her or something.

Anastasia ignored it, wondering if she was thinking too much of it. That is until she realizes the girl seemed to be itching to tell her something.

“Do you have something to say—”

Almost immediately the girl cuts her off. “You’re too tense.” She says.

“Too tense?” Anastasia responds, taken aback. She screws the lid to her water bottle closed before setting it down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The girl never once looks in Anastasia’s direction, her eyes glued to the court. “When you’re bringing the ball up, you’re too tense, that’s why your shots not falling. You’re also not releasing them quick enough given your power is unbalanced throughout your whole body.”

Anastasia stares in disbelief. Her audacity is mind blowing.

“It should be effortless, a more fluid motion.” She continues on. “You should use more of the strength in your legs because right now, you look like you have a stick up your ass.”

“Excuse me?” Anastasia finally asks. It was almost scary how she was saying all of this with a straight face. She really meant every word leaving her lips, leaving Anastasia feeling more insecure than ever.

The whistle blows, meaning the next group was being rotated in. The girl stands to her feet, finally looking in Anastasia’s direction. “Just watch.”

And though Anastasia is still fuming with all the words she was ready to say looming around her mind, she watches. She watches as the large 223 painted across the brunettes practice jersey fades further away onto the court.

As soon as she gets ahold of the ball, she handles it like it’s not even there in her hands. She’s careless, almost too careless. You can tell by her stance, her gait, that confidence radiates off of her when she’s on the court.

She has the switch.

It almost feels like a slap in the face when she effortlessly pulls left and chucks up a 3 pointer at least five feet behind the arc, leaving her defender diving in an attempt to block. However, she comes up short, leaving Anastasia to watch in both awe and despair as it rattles in. The whistle blows faster than ever before, leaving some of the girls on the court and even some of the coaches jaw dropped.

She just ended a play in seconds without the ball ever entering anyone else’s hands.

Later that night, Anastasia found herself FaceTiming her parents, telling them about what she had seen earlier today. I mean, it was unforgettable.

In all honesty, it made her a little scared. These girls were all so good. She was starting to feel like maybe she was in over her head. That maybe making the team was just an unachievable and unrealistic dream.

“Honey, if you didn’t deserve to be there, you wouldn’t be.” Her dad comforts, the empathetic smile evident on his face.

He was always so understanding, so supportive. A far different approach from her mother, who always manages to crash the moment.

“You can’t just always live in fear.” Her mom routinely chirps up. Right on time. She always has something to counter what her father says. "Comparison kills." Her mother adds on.

“I don’t—" Anastasia begins, but sighs. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she knew her mom was right. She wasn't going to admit it out loud though. "It’s not living in fear or comparison to acknowledge the fact that some of these girls are better than me."

“And who says they’re better?” Her mom asks.

Anastasia chews on the inside of her cheek, staying silent. She has a point.

Her dad sighs before deciding to weigh in again. “You made it to next round with the rest of them meaning you’re just as good as they are, don’t forget that.”

Anastasia nods, her mind going back to the memory of what happened earlier. The way the girl’s eyes locked onto hers as she walked off the court, leaving Anastasia unsure if she was taunting her, or simply making sure she saw what she wanted her to see.

“Well, we love you Stas, You should get some rest." Her dad says.

“Yeah, I probably should. Love you guys too.” She says before hanging up.

MAY 26TH, 2017

58. Out of the 133 girls here yesterday, 58 remain. More than half of them were cut, leaving Anastasia feeling a little better about being invited back for day two.

Caitlin. Caitlin Clark was her name. Anastasia had finally figured it out after hearing it what felt like a million times today.

They’d been playing 5x5 all morning long, having gone through at least hundreds of different group combinations. During their break, Coach had conjured up a list of 12 assigned groups, each having what she felt was the best fit for all position combinations together.

Paige was assigned the PG for group one, Caitlin for group two, Anastasia for group three, and so on and so forth. Given there were 58 of them, each team needing five players, they were just barely short.

“We’re two short.” Coach informs everyone. “Groups 11 and 12 both need a shooting guard, any volunteers want to make this decision easy on your poor coach here?”

At first, no one says anything, everyone looking around at one another. The bystander effect was in full action.

“Don’t all jump at the opportunity at once.” Coach mumbles jokingly.

Anastasia studies both groups left, wondering if she should do it. Her mom’s words began echoing around her head. You can’t just always live in fear.

“I’ll do it.” Caitlin volunteers. Everyone now looks at Caitlin, some whispering picking up around the room.

“Shooting guard.” Coach reiterates. Caitlin shrugs, her face stoic as if she doesn’t care one bit about the minor difference in position. “Well alright.” Coach says, impressed.

“I’ll do it too.” Paige and Anastasia say at the same time. Anastasia looks over at her before stepping forward further. “I’ll do it.” She says again.

Paige throws her hands up concedingly. “Ight, you got it.”

Coach claps, satisfied at the resolved issue. “Perfect. Groups one and two are going first. Winners and losers bracket, you all should know the ropes.”

The groups dismantle, groups one and two staying on the court, the rest heading to the bleachers. Anastasia begins on her way after everyone else, before she notices footsteps following behind her.

“Why did you do that?” Caitlin asks.

“Why did I do what?” Anastasia asks continuing to walk towards the bleachers.

Caitlin grabs onto her arm, pulling her to face her. “Why did you volunteer?”

Anastasia looks down at Caitlin’s hand before snatching her arm away. “Someone had to.”

“Paige tried, you should’ve let her.”

“And why’s that?” Anastasia asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but just stay out of my way.” Caitlin threatens.

“Or what?” Anastasia asks without hesitation. Caitlin almost looks taken aback by the response. Almost. “Or what?” Anastasia repeats.

“Caitlin, come on!” Coach calls from the court.

Caitlin stares her down, before slowly turning away, lightly jogging back to the court.

What the fuck was her problem?

Anastasia finds a lone seat on the bleachers, making it her own personal mission to study every inch of Caitlin’s gameplay possible. More specifically, what she was best at, and what she was worst at.

It didn't take much time for Anastasia to pinpoint her fatal flaw. Defense. The girl couldn't play defense if her life depended on it. Actually, it wasn't that she couldn't, it was like she just didn't want to. She looked miserable whenever she didn't have the ball and it showed. Bingo.

Anastasia notes that to herself, while also making sure to study her shooting and passing patterns, which seems to be her strong suit. She will make sure she goes against Caitlin in the final match, whether it be in the winners bracket or the losers bracket. Hell, maybe even both.

Caitlin's group manages the win over Paige's group thanks to some lucky out of this world pass Caitlin managed to just barely get inside to her post player.

"Alright groups three and four next!" Coach yells out from the whiteboard while writing group one into the losers bracket and group two into the winners.

Anastasia stands up, walking her way down the bleachers. She comes into earshot of Caitlin and Paige's conversation as she walks by.

"Damn." Paige curses once they're off the court, Caitlin giving her a gentle pat to the shoulder.

"Better luck next time." Caitlin laughs. "I bet you'll kill 'em over in the losers bracket though."

Anastasia wonders what magic Paige is really working with to get into Caitlin's good graces.

Maybe Anastasia was the problem.

Anastasia meets up with her group, and they quickly go over a few potential game plans. She can still hear Caitlin and Paige's conversation continuing on behind her, their laughter and banter a little more distracting than she'd wish it to be.

Once her team decides that they've got down few good plays, they head towards the court.

"Hey, you!" Paige calls out. Anastasia contemplates turning around but doesn't, figuring there's no chance she was talking to her. "Number 120!" Paige yells out again, Anastasia freezing in her tracks. She double checks her jersey number before slowly turning around.

"You better win so you can avenge me." Paige smiles.

Caitlin shoves Paige halfheartedly, letting out a laugh. She doesn't say it very loud, but Anastasia is fairly good at reading lips, and she swears Caitlin says, "No chance."

"I got you." Anastasia yells back to Paige, Caitlin's smile immediately wiping off her face.

She was going to destroy Caitlin Clark.

“HUMILITY, CAITLIN, IT’S SOMETHING YOU FOUND HARD TO LEARN EARLY ON IN YOUR LIFE. WHAT IMPORTANCE DOES IT HOLD NOW, AND LOOKING BACK, DO YOU WISH YOU HAD MORE OF IT THEN?”

“I’ve always had humility.” Caitlin defends. “I was young, yeah. Naive, sure. A nuisance, possibly…but I was never not humble.”

“What about USA basketball, were you an asshole then?” The reporter asks.

Caitlin furrows her eyebrows, sitting up even straighter in her chair. “Asshole? What makes you ask that?”

“No reason at all, that’s just a very important staple to your story.” The reporter half lies. “Tell us about your experience there.”

“It was great.” Caitlin lies.

The reporter shakes her head, not satisfied with the answer. “The truth.”

Caitlin sighs. “It’s one of my most regretted experiences in my life, is that what you want to hear?”

MAY 26TH, 2017

Caitlin Clark felt murderous. Anastasia’s team had won, moving them further in the bracket as well. She couldn’t believe Anastasia thinks she can beat her. It was all Caitlin could think about as she watches Anastasia sit at the bottom of the bleachers all alone.

Why wasn’t she attempting to connect with anyone around her?

Paige smacks Caitlin’s shoulder. “Yo, stop staring.”

“I’m not staring.” Caitlin lies. She turns around to face Paige, who was sitting awfully close to another player, Azzi. “Do you think she’s good?” Caitlin asks.

“Well she’s here, isn’t she?” Azzi answers sarcastically.

Caitlin rolls her eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“Come on, ask what you really wanna ask.” Paige says.

“What?” Caitlin asks.

“You wanna know if we think she’s better than you.” Paige laughs.

“No.” Caitlin scoffs. “I know she’s not better than me.”

“Geez, cocky much?” Azzi asks.

“Whatever.” Caitlin’s eyes find Anastasia again, who was now stretching her arms over her head. “Why do you think she’s not talking to anyone?”

“If you wanna talk to her just say that.” Paige teases, kneeing Caitlin in the back. “Want me to call her over?”

“No—”

“What’s her name?” Paige asks Azzi, ignoring Caitlin’s pleads.

“Stop don’t—” Caitlin interjects, just to be ignored again.

Azzi smirks before cupping her hands over her mouth. “Anastasia!”

Anastasia turns around and Caitlin glares at Azzi. “Why the fuck would you do that?” Caitlin asks.

Azzi waves her over and Anastasia stands, slowly making her way over. “Because now you can talk to her!” Azzi smiles.

“I hate you.” Caitlin mutters.

“I hate you more.” Azzi replies.

“Yes?” Anastasia questions slowly once she finally reaches the three of them, a confused looks on her face.

“Sit with us!” Azzi pats the spot in front of her with her foot.

Anastasia looks at the spot, then looks at Caitlin who’s in the spot right next to it. Caitlin avoids her gaze, looking back at the court.

“Okay, I guess.” Anastasia agrees, brushing past Caitlin.

“Where you from?” Paige asks, sitting up to start the conversation.

“Michigan.”

“Oh shit no way!” Paige gawks. “Michigan is sick.”

“Have you ever even been to Michigan?” Azzi laughs.

“Man!” Paige sucks her teeth. “Now you know I live right next door to Michigan, of course I’ve been!”

“What about you guys?” Anastasia asks.

“Virginia.” Azzi answers.

“Minnesota.” Paige says with a fake midwestern accent.

Anastasia nods, letting out a small laugh. “Cool.” She glances over at Caitlin, who once again pretends she doesn’t notice. “What about you?”

“Iowa.” Caitlin deadpans.

“Iowa…that’s a first.” Anastasia says, getting a laugh out of Paige and Azzi.

“Yeah, I’m one of a kind.” Caitlin says.

“Cocky.” Azzi mutters under her breath.

“Corny.” Paige whispers at the same time. The whistle blows, and the four of them look back to the court simultaneously. “Damn group nine won?” Paige asks.

“That’s a shocker.” Azzi says.

“Not really.” Caitlin counters. “Great offense trumps anything.”

“Of course you think that.” Anastasia criticizes, standing to her feet.

“Damn Caitlin, you gon take that?” Paige instigates, receiving a smack to the shoulder from Azzi.

“Stop trying to start shit!”

Caitlin stands to her feet, sizing up Anastasia. “Nah, I’m not gonna take that, I’m just gonna let my work on the court do the talking.”

“Famous last words.” Anastasia says, pushing past Caitlin. “You’ve never come across good D like this.”

“Yo pause!” Paige laughs, receiving another smack from Azzi.

“Stop being a freak!”

“If you think you’re taking both of your teams past quarterfinals, you’re delusional.” Caitlin says from behind Anastasia.

“Do you always speak before you think?” Anastasia asks continuing on her way down the bleachers.

“I speak and think at the same time, it’s called multitasking.”

“Right.” Anastasia laughs. Once she reaches the bottom of the bleachers she turns to face Caitlin, who was still coming down. She blocks her from exiting the last step, offering her a smile. “No matter what happens out there, I want you to remember that you’re a great player.”

“What is this, reverse psychology?” Caitlin laughs, attempting to get around Anastasia.

Anastasia steps infront of her again, keeping her position. “No, it’s good sportsmanship, ever heard of it?”

“Move.” Caitlin demands.

“Good luck out there.” Anastasia says, offering Caitlin a hand. Caitlin looks down at it before pushing past her, continuing onto the court. “Hey!” Anastasia shouts up to Paige who looks down. “This is for you.”

‘THE ART OF WINNING’ MASTERLIST

[dr-spectre]

Man... I dont know how to feel about Splatoon being the only competitive multiplayer shooter that I'm actually good at. (Currently on S but I'm getting up to S+ again.)

Cause who gives a flying fuck that you're good at Splatoon. It's the only online competitive shooter most people don't take seriously because of art style alone. People are impressed when you say that you're good at Overwatch or Valorant or TF2 or something. When you say "Hey I'm good at Splatoon 3." People go "huh? That game is competitive?"

You know how many millions of people don't even know that Splatoon is this deeply in-depth shooter with a proper competitive scene? You know how many people just dismiss the competitive scene and don't even wanna bother looking into it? Everyone thinks it's a fun Nintendo game made for kids, and it is ofc, but, it also has official tournaments held. Something like Super Smash Bros. Melee was made for families yet that game has a long-lasting and highly serious competitive scene.

I just feel sorta bad that I'm only good at the god damn colourful shooter game made for children.

I absolutely suck at Overwatch, the best i got was gold... ON TANK!!! I HATE PLAYING TANK NOW BECAUSE ITS 5V5!!! The role I have more fun in is DPS yet I'm stuck in silver and playing that game gives an overdose of cortisol.

Oh well... at least Splatoon has Callie in it so... maybe being good at Splatoon ain't such a bad thing...

[mementomoriwithacherryontop]

This article about Dead Boy Detectives and Netflix's stewardship of LGBTQ+ shows is my Roman Empire

I'm linking the article below, and it's one of the best analysis' out there about both the significance of Dead Boy Detectives' being cancelled, but also the bigger picture of why this is so significant to both fans and the LGBTQ+ community at large. Please read (and share!) the article, Why we need more queer art, not less-the case of Dead Boy Detectives, written by Karla Elliott.

A damning excerpt, and article linked below:

"Netflix has long tried to market itself to audiences just like this as an alternative to more traditional media companies. Yet its cancellation of Dead Boy Detectives is another in a long line of queer shows and shows with queer storylines – such as Sense8, Julie and the Phantoms, and Shadow and Bone – to be axed by the company before their time.

The showrunner of Warrior Nun, another of Netflix’s prematurely cancelled shows, even revealed that Netflix pushed back against the writers developing a queer romance for the show’s second season.

Meanwhile, the streaming service continues to platform performers such as Dave Chappelle, who used his latest Netflix special (his seventh on the streaming service) to double down on jokes made about the queer community, particularly targeting transgender folk.

It seems, then, that companies such as Netflix are still largely only interested in token queer representation, and only if and when it aligns with ever-shifting profit goalposts."

She goes on to talk about the crew and fans rallying around Dead Boy Detectives and taking a grassroots approach to save this show. She links IG and Twitter posts (it'll always be Twitter, to me), and she includes The Petition in her article.

She also accurately addresses the NG elephant in the room, pointing to his limited involvement in the show and how Dead Boy Detective fans have "resolutely condemned his alleged actions and stood with the women speaking out against him. Their outrage perfectly aligns with the core lessons of the show, which counters harmful gendered stereotypes and advocates for men to take responsibility for their actions, hold one another accountable, process anger, and open up to feelings like love and empathy."

She concludes, and I must admit, this brought a tear to my jaded 'lil heart, that "[t]hrough its community-building, energy, and activism, the fanbase is proving to be the living embodiment of the lessons Dead Boy Detectives has to teach us about solidarity, love and care."

So, go us. Keep at it. Don't loose hope. And please check out this article. I gave you a sneak peak, but it's chalk full of really good information and I promise you'll be glad you read it.

[cotl-flower-crown]

Going on hiatus*

*Well, kinda.

Hey, I'm gonna start this post with "omg, this blog has more than 2 followers, what the fuck?? That's crazy!". I don't usually look at numbers, because I don't want it to be a focus on my platforms, but just know that I appreciate every single one of you and I hope that you all enjoy what I'm doing here. Like at the moment of writing this there is 2277 people that decided they want to look at my art more and it makes me very happy, thank you! ^^

So uhh yeah, hiatus.

Not gonna lie, the past few months has been stressful for me and I have reached the point where my chest and stomach are in pain and I can't get enough sleep because of it, among other things (damn you mosquitoes!!!). It's something that happened before and it might take me months to recover from it. So I suppose you could say that this hiatus is mainly for the health reasons.

Though it's also because my gut is telling me that it's time to move on from this fandom to do other things.

Hear me out. It's not that I hate COTL now, far from it, I still love this silly cult game and I will follow what MM has to offer for this game in the future. I am just kinda not keeping up with myself when it comes to posting. I've been trying to post about my favs at least once a week, but honestly it's been a struggle to pump out anything at all lately. It's not that I don't have anything to post, I'm just tired and burned out.

So yeah, I think it's time to put this blog on hiatus for the time being. What I mean by that is I don't want this blog to be the top of my priorities and I want to take it easy.

I don't want it to go completely silent though. I'm planning to open my ask box again, because I miss interacting with everyone. However I will not do any art requests or draw anything for the asks in general. If I do, it will most likely be poorly drawn or it will be something related to character design, since that's what I'm most comfortable with, but I would prefer not have to draw at all. Though I am open for writing. I also wish to draw sometimes, so maybe I will post some artwork when I feel like it. I'm just not gonna post as often as I used to. It might take like a month (maybe two, maybe three, etc) before I decide to make anything.

What's the future of this blog? I am not sure yet. There is a chance that eventually I will abandon this blog entirely OR I could repurpose it for fanart in general. To be honest I'm leaning towards the second option at the moment, but that is a future me's problem.

I think that's all I've got to say right now. Again Thank You everyone who decided to follow, reblog and like my art and leave comments, I appreciate it all, and thank you to my moots and friends that I made along the way, I love you all (plat/non parasocial) and I hope this will work out.

TLDR: I'm going on hiatus, but not completely silent, also ask box open, but no requests

[stitchedcosmos]

Abt the Orcatstra stuff

TLDR: I've looked through their posts as well as others and I can't find any proof they did anything wrong. Orca making NSFW art, saying they don't like a ship and blocking people who like that ship is completely normal and you shouldn't take it personally.

Long ver:

People in the DSAF fandom (mainly Tumblr) are freaking out about a take Orcatstra made on shipping Jack with Harry, Jake and/or Rodger, allegedly harassing people who ship them, one case being running a 14/15-year-old off the website and making NSFW art, mainly gore.

About the ship: I think Orcatstra's take is completely understandable. "Oh but the phone can leave" and "Oh but he treats them well in the Good ending" doesn't matter. At the end of the day, whether he treats them well or not is completely irrelevant. Jack can choose at any time whether they live or die. When he fires them, they get murdered. He has power over them and that is a power imbalance that a lot of people are going to be uncomfortable with. In cases like Dave, Matt, Steven or Henry, if things don't go well between the two, they have the ability to leave with no fear of something bad happening to them. The phones on the other hand, could get fired (die) if they're not on Jack's good side with just a simple phone call. Even if they left, they literally mention Afton Robotics hunting down escaped phone guys and a simple phone call telling AR one's gone rouge is all it takes. Doing this after getting pissed off by them or whatever, is completely in character for Jack to do (especially legacy). People bring up that Jack treats them well in the good ending but how about all the other routes? Especially in the Legacy routes, Jack treats them like shit and actively uses this power imbalance against them on multiple occasions. People bring up Davesport as a retort to this, bringing up how utterly devoted Dave can be, but Dave when treated like this usually fights back or distances himself away from him, neither is something the phones can do without fear of getting killed. At the end of the day, it all comes down to how you headcanon Jack to act, but the power imbalance is definitely enough to put a lot of people off. Also, as a POC myself, I don't think them saying it felt like "Owner x Slave" to them, was racist.

About the blocking: Blocking people is something people are allowed to do for whatever reason they like. If someone posts content you don't like, the normal response most people have is to block them. Whether you feel the block is "deserved" or not, doesn't matter. Hell, sometimes I block people over a single post or comment they make because I simply disagree with it so much. Blocking people is completely okay under literally any circumstance.

About harassment: I have found no proof of this. Seriously. I've looked through multiple people's accounts, including Orca's and have found nothing. I'm even seeing people ask for proof and being told the person has none. the dsaf confessions account keeps getting brought up as proof of someone who got harassed but looking at both their posts and Orca's, from what I've seen, no harassment happened. From what I can tell, all of this is a complete misunderstanding where Orca talking about not liking the account got interpreted as Orca bullying them. If they don't like them and want to post about not liking them, they have the right to do that.

Edit: Just remembered this so I’ll quickly add it now, people are shouting at orca 4 “harassing a minor” but they’re a minor themselves.

About NSFW: They're allowed to draw it. DSAF is an NSFW series and therefore has A LOT of NSFW topics, subjects, scenes and characters in it. If someone wants to draw that, they have the right to. If you don't like it, block them. Some people are saying they should tag their gore art and while I personally agree with that, if they don't want to, they have every right not to. It's their blog and if you don't like it, just block them and move on. "But what if a child sees it" on Tumblr, you can only see what you search up or are personally interested in, a child shouldn't be looking at DSAF-related content in the first place because, again, it is an NSFW series.

Overall, my thoughts on the matter are... *drum roll*

It's not that serious and the block button is free. If you don't like someone, what they're doing, what they're posting, block them. It's that simple and getting blocked doesn't mean anything. This situation, as well as others like it, are making me fear that most of you aren't old enough to even know what DSAF is, let alone be in the fandom.

[amiti-art]

HI! I’m here to ask honest opinion on….Lore Olympus. I’m sorry for putting my opinion here….but I hate it. I’m sorry, I try to see it in a good way….put it paints Apollo as a horrible person. And there are other things that I’d respectfully don’t like about it.However, I want to see your opinion. That is if you’re willing to share it. BTW, I fricking love your drawings., especially the ones about Apollo and his myths! Have a good day or night!

Hello!

I'm glad you like my art 🫶🏻

So, Lore Olympus.

This probably won't come as a surprise to most people, considering how much Apollo art I've made, but I hate Lore Olympus. And not only because of how poorly Apollo was portrayed there.

I'm going to be honest with you: I never read much of it. I read maybe a few chapters some years ago because it was advertised as Greek mythology retelling, but I didn't continue because it was boring to me.

Much later, I saw a lot of posts pointing out all the things wrong with Lore Olympus, and boy oh boy, it's bad.

From what I've seen, it’s hardly a retelling; if the names of the characters were changed, nobody would realize this is supposed to be myth-inspired.

And look, I'm not saying you can't change anything when making a Greek mythology retelling, because it's simply impossible to keep everything the same as in the myths—especially when you want to create a story that covers many myths. The math isn't mathing when it comes to Greek mythology, because the myths changed over time, and different city-states had their own versions of the stories, so it's pretty impossible to make a cohesive timeline without changing something.

But from what I've seen, there isn't much Greek influence in this Greek mythology retelling. From the way the characters dress and speak to the food they eat, there is nothing Greek about this comic, it’s completely Americanized.

And I hate Americanization so much. I remember watching Netflix's "The Witcher" and being so disappointed because there was nothing Slavic about it. They kept Jaskier's original name from the books and called it a day. They turned it into another generic fantasy show.

I know that many Greek people feel the same way about Lore Olympus and other American adaptations of their myths. I love Percy Jackson, but the whole "gods moved to the USA because this is where Western civilization is" is just so icky to me. Greece still exists, hello??????

Back to Lore Olympus. For some reason it's fans think that the comic is a valid source for mythology, and they spread so much misinformation.

For the last time: Persephone was abducted in the myths. There is no version where she goes to the Underworld on her own.

Demeter is a heartbroken mother looking for her beloved daughter, not some evil helicopter parent standing between Persephone and her happiness. Justice for Apollo and Demeter.

Also, Persephone is sometimes drawn like a child and looks more like Hades' daughter than his wife. Why?????

And from what I've seen, Persephone is ridiculously powerful for some reason and fights Kronos or something???????

Also, apparently, Leto is portrayed as a manipulative mother????? Leto??? The Titan goddess of motherhood??? Why????

I don't understand why this comic got so popular, to be honest. Probably because of the artstyle.

[lala-blahblah]

I absolutely cannot sit down and write a nice version of this bc my brain says no, but i would like to let you all know I'm thinking of a fanfic where older Edgeworth is moving back to the US (or japan, whichever universe you subscribe to) and runs into Nick in the store while buying mass produced art to hang on the walls of his new house.

And Nick is like "dear god do you want your house to look like a dentist's office. Please do better" (in a friendly way, they are too old for rivalry at this point) and so Nick invites Edgeworth to come over and take any of his old artwork from college, since it is just sitting in a portfolio in a closet somewhere. And Edgeworth agrees to come over and look through Nick's old stuff together. There are themes of 1) growing older and like reflecting on the past and 2) Nick's character trait of finding meaning in challenges vs Edgeworth's tendency to stick with what he does well. In my head I imagine that Nick was good at art and it came somewhat easily to him and that bored him, and he was drawn to law in part because it was hard and it excited him and made him want to try harder. And i think tying that in with fatherhood, like it being unexpected and hard but something he thrives at because he feels good when there's a challenge. Potentially also touching on how like, when he lost his badge he felt very listless and depressed because he wasn't being challenged anymore, there wasn't anything to drive him and motivate him. And I think Edgeworth would be impressed by seeing Nick's old pieces (I assume he hasn't seen much of his art before) and wondering why he didn't choose to pursue art further. He also thinks about how art had always put him off personally because he couldn't get it "right" right away, and on the other hand how the structure and logic of law came easily to him, which led him to become a lawyer. I think he measures his self worth by his success in his field because he never had the support to believe he had intrinsic value as a person and maybe wasn't so good at making emotional connections with people. So that big contrast between them is so interesting... I think Edgeworth would be jealous of Nick's bravery in pursuing something he was bad at without giving up and Nick would be jealous of Edgeworth's success in law, but in a subdued way as they've grown older.

A far as actual scenes in the fic, I think I would use Nick's art as a conduit for my own agenda to have them talk about topics that are of interest to me... I would like Edgeworth to feel out of his depth for once and for nick to be the confident one as he talks about something he is well versed in, and for edgeworth to have to face that discomfort and also be a little impressed intellectually with Nick. I think I would do that by having them look through some abstract art Nick did (my intro painting classes were all abstract so we could focus on color mixing and getting comfortable with the medium). Edgeworth compliments Nick on a painting with a bunch of colored squares in gradient clusters and then gets embarrassed when Nick tells him those were just color mixing swatches. Alternatively, in my mind they are both asexual and I think even though this feels like a hallmark cliche I would have Edgeworth flounder and be very embarrassed over Nick's old figure drawing piece. I feel like Nick would be like "no you don't understand it's all very professional and normal when we draw them, like it's just about learning the shape language" and Edgeworth would be like "this is very improper and I don't know how to react can we please not look at naked people!". I don't think i would do both, but something to upset the power dynamic for a moment would be interesting! Nick is always the awkward one I want to see him shine for just a moment enough for edgeworth to go "wait what... i've known him for so long but perhaps i don't really know him at all..."

I would want Edgeworth to end up taking a series of 3 canvases Nick did in an oil painting class that were still lifes of objects the teacher had set up around the classroom. I headcanon that Nick actually far preferred drawing people to objects and rebelled against the assignment by hiding his reflection in one of the objects in each drawing- the top of his head is hidden in an ornament on a christmas tree, his eye is reflected in the shine of a china vase, etc. So it's a little secret, and Edgeworth kind of likes that... it is sweet in a way to see a much younger Phoenix captured in time like that. Something Edgeworth will be reminded of when he sees the paintings but nobody else will catch onto

I would want to layer this with a fatherhood storyline... I think i would frame it as nick inviting edgeworth over to dinner with him and Trucy and Edgeworth stepping into this domestic family life as a visitor and witnessing how its transformed Nick, like seeing him from a different lens. I think after they pick out paintings and have dinner they sit around talking. Trucy had been sitting with them, earlier she showed off some magic tricks and gave Edgeworth a picture of hers from the fridge to add to his new art collection (it's a rainbow dolphin and a sea turtle wearing top hats. Nick says she's in her Lisa Frank era). But she's been quiet for awhile and Nick realizes she's fallen asleep and it's like 11. He's like, crap, i screwed up i should've paid attention and gotten her put to bed, I'm a bad father and I have an audience for this failure. And on top of that, I already failed at being a lawyer, no matter what I try I always disappoint everyone. It's an unexpected moment of vulnerability there... like he's seemed so put together and grown up to Edgeworth this whole time like a whole different person, but he's not a different person he just has different sides to him. And this moment is one where edgeworth can be like hey, no, you're a great dad, and I'm impressed by you and everything you achieved. And I think that could lead into vulnerability from Edgeworth about his relationship with his dad and how he misses him/how he feels like he hasn't really been loved by anyone since his dad died, and how Trucy is lucky to have someone like Nick in her life.

Nick excuses himself to carry Trucy to bed and Miles starts cleaning up the kitchen. I would give a moments pause here to talk about the strange intimacy of going through someone else's kitchen cabinets and drawers, you feel like a stranger there trying to put yourself into someone else's shoes to understand how they live in this space. Maybe he guesses the right drawer for the silverware first try and he feels a little spark of connection. like "we are different in many ways but we are alike enough that we look in the same place for our spoons". Details on the kitchen too about the kid safe plastic bowls and knives that indicate a child is part of the household, that the household has been built around the child, in fact. Edgeworth lives alone and I imagine things are kind of fancy for him (he's a man who wears a cravat so he probably has fine china right). It's completely different from this shabby mismatched cutlery that Nick has, but this kitchen has personality. Maybe he wouldn't mind having a kitchen like this so much. This is a hint at him being lonely, being included in this family unit just for a day has given him this curious sense of longing, for what he isn't sure... does he want kids? Does he want Nick? Does he just want to be part of a family? These are confusing questions and he would much rather not feel anything at all, but unfortunately it is late and he did have a glass of wine with dinner so emotions are Happening.

He hears Nick sigh tiredly as he comes into the kitchen, and Edgeworth starts to ask him where his tupperware is when suddenly Nick is wrapping his arms around him and Edgeworth is Very Tense because he's never good at knowing how to act in situations like this and he and Nick have never been on a hugging level before and he's not sure what this is even for. Then Nick is like "I keep thinking about what you said earlier, about feeling alone ever since your dad passed away. I didn't know, that's such a long time to feel alone. I don't want you to think you're on your own". Edgeworth relaxes a little bit because now he knows what the hug is for and what he's supposed to feel from it. Its very kind of Nick to worry but its unnecessary and he says so. He has colleagues he's friendly with and people from law school he keeps in touch with, he's alright. And Nick says he knows but he also knows it's difficult living the way they do, and what he means is single and in your thirties. Because everyone else is getting married or living with a long term partner or at the very least dating and their lives are focused on that relationship as the center of their being. And when you don't have that, not only is it harder to relate to the people around you but it is harder to feel like you matter in people's lives, because they all prioritize their partner before their friends. And maybe their situations aren't exactly the same (Nick has a daughter while Edgeworth lives alone) and maybe their choices were made for different reasons (Nick used to date and didn't mind it but didn't see a need to prioritize it. Edgeworth found himself unable to distinguish with certainty whether or not he was actually romantically interested in people, and rather than make the wrong choice he decided he would rule out error by choosing no one at all). But regardless, they both know first hand the isolation that comes with trying to carve a path for themselves that does not include a life partner in a world where everyone else comes in pairs. And Nick is reaching out across that emptiness saying hey, we might both be building different lives, but there's room for you to be a part of mine if you want.

Outloud, Nick says "Really, Miles. You aren't alone in this." and Edgeworth says "Well, Phoenix, neither are you". And he stands there and lets his friend hug him, and it doesn't feel like butterflies but it does feel solid and warm and good. And he doesn't even worry about whether he's supposed to let go by now or not, because it's nice, not being alone.

They stand there in comfortable silence for a long moment before Nick speaks again. "hey, remember when you used to hate me? And look at us now." Edgeworth turns his head sharply. "I never HATED you, Wright. I simply thought you were foolish and a waste of my time." He realizes a little too late that this is probably a rude thing to say to the person that just gave you a pep talk, but Nick just laughs, his head still resting on Edgeworth's shoulder. Looking at him from this angle, face almost fully hidden, Nick could be any age at all. It's easy to imagine for a moment that he's the same nervous version of himself that stood across from him in the courtroom for the first time all those years ago. The only thing breaking the illusion is the subtle streaks of silver that cross his temples. Not entirely sure why he does it, Edgeworth kisses the top of Nick's head. He feels odd about it the moment he does so, realizing it comes across not as a platonic or romantic action but as a gesture suited for a dog or pet of some kind. Nick looks up, looking confused but not displeased. "What was that for?" "It was a thank you I suppose". Miles steps away now, still uncomfortable with perceived failures even if those failures are just in social interactions, and begins to gather his things while Nick gets down a tupperware from a cabinet. "Thank you, for the dinner and for the paintings." Edgeworth continues. "I'd like to repay the favor once I get settled into the new house. Trucy's invited too, of course". As he says it, he realizes he genuinely is looking forward to seeing them again. Nick walks him to the apartment door and they say their goodbyes while Edgeworth tucks the paintings (and Trucy's dolphin drawing) under his arm.

He gets halfway down the hallway when he hears Nick calling after him. "Hey! Miles! Take an art class with me sometime" Newfound friendship or not, Edgeworth just looks at him in disdain. "what, so you can show off your superior art skills? No thank you, Wright" "No, for fun. You can make things of your own to hang on your walls. We can do something I've never done before so we're evenly matched. Like printmaking? Origami? Um, pottery?" Edgeworth bristles at the suggestions but takes a moment to acknowledge why he's feeling that way; again, it's that fear of failure. But he's enjoyed himself today and deep down he thinks it could be fun to try something new, not with the goal of being perfect at it but with the goal of spending time together. Nick surprised him today. Maybe he can surprise himself. "... I would consider pottery" Edgeworth admits. And Nick looks really happy about it. "Great. I'll book us a session then. It'll be fun, you'll see. Edgeworth shakes his head, but there's no malice behind it. "Have a good night, Phoenix" "You too. Get home safe Miles".

Edgeworth gets home a little before midnight and props the three canvases against the moving boxes still stacked up in the foyer. Tomorrow, he'll figure out where he wants to hang them. Right now though, he walks over to the bare fridge and carefully pins up Tracy's dolphin drawing. There's a lot more work to do, but it's already starting to feel like home.

[m3l0nfl0at]

Hi, I just wanted to say I enjoy reading ur Kuroo’s stories, the way u portray him is so accurate and y/n is very relatable. I don’t know if u take requests but here’s an idea, what if y/n’s sister has a kid and Kuroo and y/n is babysitting.

And after they finished babysitting they’re having a late night pillow talk about their future domestic life.

juno - t. kuroo

kuroo x f! reader ; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, no y/n used, reader has a niece, playful teasing, kuroo gets suggestive for like a second but nothing major, future hints for just say yes! timeline, k words

summary ; your sister asks kuroo and you to babysit your niece for the night, which leads to you thinking about the future of your relationship

melons recommended melody ; may you never forget me - temachii

links ; just say yes masterlist and taglist request

Answering your sister’s call was the last thing you expected to do today. Only for her to explain that she wanted you to babysit for a couple of hours. It’s not like you’re not good with children, it's just more that you’re not really the playful type. In what other children at your age had lacked in education, you lacked in imagination. Every time your niece wanted to play you felt guilty for not playing along. Yet for some odd reason your niece loved you? Every time you saw her at your sister’s house she always came running to you like some magnet. However, you hadn’t introduced her to Kuroo just yet. Due to him feeling “an enormous pressure” with you being her favorite and something along the lines of he can’t take your place. You always laughed at his snarky comments like sure, he could take your place as the favorite relative? Yeah right.

“Can I come with you?”, you look over at Kuroo questioningly. You both give each other a blank stare, you confused and Kuroo thinking you didn’t hear him. “Yeah, I thought you were coming with me this whole time?” Kuroo nods unaware that he made that decision. You wave him off, remembering him making a remark yesterday about he’s going to replace you and be the best relative. Kuroo slides right next to you on the couch, kissing your cheek before laying his head on your lap. “I’m kind of scared, your niece seems to effortlessly love you. I think I might have to bribe her to take your spot.” You laugh at him wanting to bribe your niece, truly a conman aura. You start playing with his hair, “Well my niece loves anything I love, so I’m sure she’ll love you too.”

Upon arrival at your sister’s, Kuroo's nerves never once faltered; he knows you talk highly of your niece. What’ll happen if he doesn’t impress her or even worse makes her cry on instinct? Will you break up with him? Realize he’s terrible with kids and then break up with him? Glancing over to Kuroo in the passenger’s seat you see him fiddling with his fingers, a habit he picked up from you. Knowing the feeling all too well you grab his hands, “No need to be nervous we’re just watching my niece. Don’t worry, she’s really well behaved and super smart for her age.” Kuroo nods knowing if anything happens you were right beside him, you laugh. “And you really thought you were going to replace me looking like a nervous wreck? You have a lot to learn my love.”, kissing his cheek as you hop out the car.

Knocking on your sister's door, hearing footsteps and her animals patter beyond the door. Her husband opens the door greeting you and Kuroo before you hear your niece’s footsteps running down the hallway. You bend down as your niece greets you in a big hug, “There she is! Did you miss me?” Kuroo’s heart clenches at the sight of you with your niece. “I have so much to show you and tell you! I got student of the month and I also did this art of me and-“ your niece glances behind you. “Um, who’s that?”, you laugh looking back at Kuroo nodding in his direction letting him know to introduce himself. “I’m Kuroo, I’m your aunt's boyfriend.”, he extended his hand out so she could shake it. She slowly takes steps to him before grabbing his finger and shaking his hand suspiciously.

“Auntie, can he play with us?”, you tap your finger against your chin. Kuroo coughs, interrupting your thoughts, “I guess so.”, you both stick your tongues out at each other. “Alright sis, the dog and cat are fed so just keep an eye on them. Don’t give them any more treats please!”, she glared at you knowing you often bribed them. “As for her, bedtime is at 9:00 since it’s the weekend.”, your niece huffs as you ruffle her hair. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours, thank you both for agreeing to watch the house.”, you nod as you walk your sister to her front door, locking it for safety. Turning around to see Kuroo and your niece staring at each other, you could just feel the awkwardness in the air. “Ok you two, what do you want to do first?” Kuroo looks at your niece shrugging. “Let’s go play in my room!”, you grab Kuroo shaking the nerves out of his shoulders as you follow your niece to her room.

Walking to your nieces room you feel yourself deflate, you hate playing pretend. How could you possibly be so bad at something that wasn’t even real? Your niece grabs multiple character toys before handing some to Kuroo and to you. As she tells you the narrative for her pretend play you look over at Kuroo, seeing him listening intently even wanting to add some plot points. You smile, for someone who was a nervous wreck a couple of minutes ago, he suited this role nicely. Kuroo was always so attentive and patient you knew he would get along nicely with your niece. “Auntie! Are you listening? Stop looking at your boyfriend.”, Kuroo laughs as you look away guiltily, apologizing.

“Ok, now that you’re focused auntie! You’ll be the fairy cat, while Roo is the DJ cat, and I'll be Gabriella, the human.” Kuroo looks at the toy your niece handed you, poking at its feet, giggling. Halfway through playing you decide you were going to excuse yourself to the bathroom. It wasn’t till your niece heard the door click that she put down her toys and looked at Kuroo. “Roo, I think auntie doesn’t really like playing pretend but you’re really good at it.”, Kuroo smiles before he decides to backtrack. “Why do you think that is?”, your niece pulls him closer before whispering in his ear. “She says it’s a secret but I think she just doesn’t know how to pretend.”, she pulls away from Kuroo’s ear before grabbing her toy once again. “But she tries, that’s why she’s my favorite.”, Kuroo takes a mental note to ask you what the secret is later. Ruffling your niece’s hair, “Well thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that.”. She giggles at Kuroo and continues to play pretend with him.

As you go in the bathroom you feel yourself relax, hearing your niece giggling felt somewhat rewarding. Knowing she finally had someone interesting enough to play with was a relief. You knew she would get attached to Kuroo, I mean he often worked with children due to his job. Feeling appreciative for him, you decide to take this time to update your sister on how everything is going so far. Opening the door to go take a picture of the fur babies but instead are met with the sight of Kuroo dramatically playing with your niece. Snapping a picture of that instead, making sure to make it your lock screen when you have time. Watching them from afar, thinking of how your future with Kuroo might look. Taking a moment to imagine a mini combination of you and him walking around your apartment. Thinking of moments like Kuroo holding a baby, Kuroo teaching your kid volleyball, or watching him play with your child from afar. You feel yourself fall deep into the comfort of the moment, just watching how amazing your partner was and continues to be.

Slowly walking away forgetting the task at hand, you softly head downstairs. Kuroo turns around to find your back turned to him and all he can think of is that he hopes you're okay. Snapping back into the moment with your niece as he hears you continuing to head downstairs. You find your sister's black cat laying in its cat tower, giving it strokes on its back. Looking around to find her pet beagle, only to find it also resting in its pet bed. Sending pictures and a text to her, reassuring her to continue having fun because everything was going swiftly. Walking around her house you see a picture of your sister and you as children in her hallway, you falter seeing your parents behind you in the picture. You touch the frame baffled how long ago this picture was from, thinking back to the day. Your parents were fighting but your sister paid them no mind, she was always such an independent thinker. You remember her telling you that they were just dumb adults and to only focus on her and taking a beautiful picture. To end up so different from her, you wonder what went wrong, why you were so…different?

“Auntie! Kuroo says you make the best smoothies! Can you make me one?” You and the pets are disturbed by your niece's booming voice traveling through the house. “Oh did he? You know what since he said that he has to help me make it now!”. Kuroo keeps a pace behind your niece while you stand in front of the staircase, for safety reasons. You peck Kuroo on the cheek, “Which smoothie are you talking about? You’re the one who usually makes me smoothies, handsome.”. Kuroo hugs you from behind as you start looking through the cabinet for a blender. “I’m talking about the chocolate banana one you make for me, when I want a sweet treat.”, you nod remembering that one time you made it for him when he got home from work. To be fair though, chocolate made anything taste good but hearing Kuroo brag about it as if it was the first smoothie he ever had in his life, made your heart beat ten times faster.

“Ok lovie, I’m going to look for the ingredients but when I say cover your ears-”, you demonstrate. Even though she knows how to do an action so simple, you don’t want her to feel alone. “Make sure you cover them because the noise is really loud, okay?”, she flashes you a thumbs up heading to sit down at the table. Kuroo pulls out a chair for her, leaning on the counter top so he can monitor you both at the same time. Your niece gets up to look at all the artwork displayed on the fridge, looking for a specific piece. “Here it is! Look auntie! This is the one I did in class, it’s us!” You stop chopping for a second to look at the artwork she’s showing, bending down to her eye level. “This is such a well drawn picture, lovie. I see you drew my hair nice and pretty!” pointing to the picture, letting her know you understood it. “Oh! You even added little cat ears to us like your toys! I love it, can I take it home with me?” She nods as you give her a hug. Kuroo smiles to himself so hard it hurts, you were so easy to love it was effortless. From your kind personality to your adoring smile, he would never doubt his ability to love you.

You hand the drawing to Kuroo so he could place it by your phone, remembering to take the drawing home with you guys. Kuroo drags your niece to the living room, asking her if she wanted to watch anything as you finished chopping the remaining smoothie ingredients. “Ok lovie, cover your ears!”, you watch your niece cover her ears but unexpectedly you see Kuroo covers his as well. As you start blending, you watch Kuroo get up and place his elbows over your ears. Laughing at how considerate and ridiculous your boyfriend was. Flashing a thumbs up to signify that you finished up blending, Kuroo let’s go setting up three glasses. “Ok lovie, order up!”, your niece comes running to get her smoothie. “Wow, so good! Roo was right, it's delicious!”, you smile looking at the clock seeing it was almost time to put her to bed. “Thirty minutes till someone has to go to bed!”, you pinch her cheek before giving it a quick kiss. “No fair! I felt like I spent no time with you!” you look down sadly, seeing her pout. “Well, I can read you a bedtime story and we can do your night time routine together! Just you and I, no stinky Roo there.” she laughs as Kuroo rolls his eyes.

Making sure to do her whole routine with her as she talked about various topics to the episodes she watched to the things she learned in school. As she’s talking you start to comb her hair, braiding it. You see her in the mirror yawning as you tie off her braid. You help her dust the bed before tucking her in. “Auntie, can you read me something with Roo?” you stop before kissing her head. Nodding, going to go call Kuroo, “My love, I think you’ve officially taken my spot…”, Kuroo grins pulling you into a side hug. “Welp, I told you this would happen. Nothing lasts forever baby, let’s go.”, you tell Kuroo to go ahead while you pick her favorite book. Entering the room hoping you chose correctly. “I know I haven’t read to you in a while lovie, I hope this is still your favorite.”, you pull out the book behind your back. She nods excitedly, “Well it’s my favorite when you read it to me.”. You start getting embarrassed realizing why she liked this book so much, hiding behind the book. “Roo, auntie reads this book the best she does these voices and makes the sound effects and everything!”, Kuroo looks over at you grinning. “Oh does she now? Well I can’t wait to hear it. I’ll hold the book while you read babe.”

You cough, clearing your throat while you shakily read the title. “Auntie, you’re not doing the voice…”, she pouts. Kuroo looks at you seeing how embarrassed you are, “No need to be embarrassed auntie! Please Roo needs to see how awesome of a storyteller you are!” Deciding to put your pride aside you start reading with the voice, hearing Kuroo chuckle at how bizarre you sound. Making sound effects and all, Kuroo thought you were incredibly dorky in an affectionate way. As you finished reading, you saw your niece slowly starting to drift off to sleep, telling her softly goodnight. Lighting up the room with her night lights before exiting her room, shutting the door. As one door closes another one opens, “We’re back! Sorry for coming a bit earlier than expected, we were tuckered out.”. You wave your hands, telling her that it was no problem. You bid each other a goodbye before getting in your car heading home.

Getting home you immediately feel exhaustion take over you, changing clothes and getting ready to sleep. Coming out of the bathroom you see Kuroo dusting the bed, getting ready as well. He meets you halfway before lifting up his hand, expecting a high-five from you. You laugh as your hands meet, “We’re the best relatives ever!”. He grabs you, pulling you into a hug, laughing at his exclamation. Shaking your head and going to lay down on your side, “Tetsu can I be honest with you?”. Kuroo bobs his head, “How bad did I give you the ick while reading that book?”, he laughs and you suddenly feel the urge to crawl in a hole. “I KNEW IT!”, you hid under the covers not wanting to see any sign of life. Kuroo lightly pulls the covers down, “You didn’t give me the ick per say. More like “I got with a major dork.” but I knew you were a dork when we met so I wasn’t too phased.” He kisses your head before pulling you into a cuddle, “You know I think because you’re such a dork that’s why your niece favors you so much.”. Your fingers dance around his chest feeling guilty about getting so much love from your niece. “You know, till this day I really don’t know why I’m her favorite. I can’t even play pretend correctly.”, Kuroo remembers what your niece told him earlier that night. “You know your niece said you had a secret. Care to tell me what it is…?” you look up at him, raising a brow. Trying to think deeply about what secret you told her, only to reach a blank. “Tell me more about this said secret Tetsu?”, Kuroo starts petting your hair.

“She said you had a secret about why you don’t like playing pretend with her.”, you sigh, shaking your head. “I used the word “secret” as an excuse not to dump my trauma onto her.”, still Kuroo starts nudging you hoping you would take the hint to open up. “My parents didn’t really allow me to be a “kid” so I don’t really know how to pretend. I just get a little insecure about it, I mean how does one not know how to play pretend? It’s not even real!”, you laugh at how frivolous it all sounds. Kuroo takes in what you’re saying thinking about your… strange parents. Feeling sympathetic towards you, knowing his parents allowed him some sort of kid-like innocence. Even though his parents had a rocky relationship they never included him, allowing him to focus on friendship and sports. “You can play pretend, that is how we got together in the first place baby.”, you bump his chest playful. “That was a life or death situation, not the same.” You both laugh remembering how you both were so entranced on selling yourself as a couple, years ago. “Don’t think too hard, loving someone like you isn’t complicated. You’re a very caring and nurturing person. Everyone is attracted to a beautiful soul like yours, especially me.”, you roll your eyes.

“You know Tetsu spending today with my niece made me think about us… about having…” Kuroo’s heart stops with each break you take, are you about to say what he thinks you’re going to say? “About having a possible child together someday?” Kuroo felt his heart burst out of his chest, seeing you with your niece being a dork but being oh so kind, he couldn’t help but think of you being a mother. A mini version of each other walking around? Get him a defibrillator, stat. “I mean I know we haven’t gotten married yet and maybe it’s too soon to have children but having a child would be something to start thinking about.” hearing Kuroo’s heartbeat increase as you continue talking. “If it’s a boy, it’ll have your crazy hair or if it’s a girl it’ll have my nose, it makes me think how badly I want that. With you.” You look up to see Kuroo’s face blank, you laugh thinking you’ve broken him. “I know that I don’t come from the best family but I want to be able to give my child an opportunity that I didn’t have, a loving family.”, Kuroo pulls you into a bone crushing hug feeling your sentiment deeper than you could ever know. A loving family, you and him together creating another beautiful life, what more could he ask for? He settles into your shoulder, speech coming out muffled. “You’d be the greatest mother. Seeing you with your niece, I’d never doubt your motherly abilities. You love people so seamlessly and that’s exactly what a child needs.”, you tear up in his arms feeling a sense of peace wash over you. The man you loved, who grew with you these past few years, never once doubted your ability to be a mother.

“So, when do we get started?” you laugh. “No way! You have to marry me first Tetsu.”, Kuroo lifts his eyebrows. “That’s manageable. Expect it soon, always be ready!”, he pecks your lips before you both fall asleep. Kuroo knew he had the ring stashed away in his closet dresser beneath the million novelty ties you got for him each holiday. Truth be told he got that ring after your first official month living together. Living together showed him that he didn’t want to do this life with anyone else but you. This one joke between you was sooner than you think.

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia: tysm anon for requesting! i try to portray kuroo as accurate as possible so tysm for the reassuring words! i hope all my readers find comfort in my kind of weird girl character because we all deserve some kind of rep. request for just say yes time line are open please consider requesting just like this lovely anon!

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