#fall fridays volume 1

[thisislizheather]

Fall Fridays Vol. 1

Welcome to Fall Fridays! After the mild success of my Summer Saturdays series (and by mild success I mean that it made me happy), I wanted to start the weekly roundups again. There are too many things that go on this season to wait until the end-of-month post. Here’s what went on this week!

BAKING/COOKING

Making these sweet & spicy chicken (sometimes turkey) meatballs on rotation.

CRAVING

I might bite the bullet and buy this spooky front door wreath. $10 for some autumnal joy? Completely justified.

DRINKING

I made this pumpkin spice coffee syrup for my iced coffees at home and it’s heavenly. (If that seems like a ton of sugar, just use less - it still tastes great.) And if you prefer a creamier texture, then just add a bit of milk/half and half to it.

Above Photo: Ingredients for pumpkin spice coffee syrup

EATING

Currently obsessed with sriracha, soy sauce and garlic-drenched rice noodles.

EXPERIENCING

I met R.L. Stine! He did a book signing at Barnes & Noble and it was the best. I grew up on Goosebumps, so this was a big deal. Man’s a living legend.

LISTENING

Currently updating and making the very best autumn playlist on Spotify.

LOVING

Global News in Canada interviewed my dad for celebrating his 100th birthday this year, which was very cool. Shoutout to my mom for keeping my glamour shot on the wall in the background when they taped it.

SHOPPING

Okay, so I may or may not have bought the Frosty Goes Ice Skating moving figurine for my Christmas village because it’ll be my first moving figurine and it’s important to find small pockets of happiness while we barrel towards death?

WATCHING

Nathan and I watched The Black Phone and WOOF. What a bad time. I like Ethan Hawke, but this was atrocious.

WEARING

One day I’ll stop wearing this Aritzia 1/2 zip sweatshirt daily, but I can’t give you any information on when that will be.

And I’ve created an autumn highlight reel on my Instagram incase you care!

[mediumgayitalian]

Will would like to say, at risk of perjuring himself, that he did not intend to fall asleep.

Like, he wanted to.

And he did.

But it was not his original intent.

His original intent was to stabilize his patients (success), climb out the back window of the infirmary (success), stick the landing (failure is good for growth), meet Nico behind the Big House (success), and shadow travel to his cabin without throwing up (fifty percent is a pass). The secondary intent was to sprawl on his boyfriend’s lap, taking up as much space as possible in his massive, against-camp-regulations bed (how it is possible to be Dionysus’ nepo baby without actually being a child of Dionysus, Will shall never know), turn off his brain, and watch him play video games for a while.

The issue is that Nico is so comfortable.

Yeah, he’s bony. And yeah, sometimes he gets really into the game and forgets that Will is there, elbowing him in the face as he cusses at the screen in what sounds like ancient Latin. And yeah, the sound of a CoD lobby is the opposite of a sleep-conductive environment. However.

However.

While he may spend hours of his week standing on tables, lecturing on healthy eating habits and regular circadian rhythms via sonnet, and enforcing said habits via taser (rip Leo Valdez, you would’ve loved watching Will taser people for stress relief, come back alive soon), Will is what his friends and family call a ‘big fat hypocrite’.

He wouldn’t know healthy habits if they painted themselves bright neon blue (the easiest colour for him to see), stood ten feet tall, dressed in Malvolio’s outfit from Twelfth Night, and roundhouse kicked him in the teeth his mother spent thousands of dollars on (braces suck). He has not slept through the night even once his whole life. Yesterday, his two meals were 1) twizzlers and 2) audacity. He once measured how much liquid he had in his system on any given time and then drank approximately two point seven litres of RedBull to become, by volume, one half percent caffeine. (His heart did indeed stop. But it started back up again when Jason shocked him, so it was fine. Plus, he wrote it all down, so in reality it was science.)

Also, his dumbfuck peers keep getting themselves maimed, and he was informed unfortunately by Chiron that he cannot strike and leave them to suffer. (Accusing him of violating his First Amendment Right To Petition got him nothing but stable duty.) As of ten minutes before Nico picked him up, he was on his thirty-ninth consecutive hour of being awake. Probably. (He’s reasonably certain that climbing a tree on Friday morning and belting himself to the trunk, Katniss Everdeen style, for a quick catnap was not a fever dream, but one can never be too certain.)

Regardless. Point is, Will had cute boys to cuddle and Thoughts to Think. He had no intention of falling asleep.

And, yet.

He wakes up warm — the perfect kind of warm, wherein you feel akin to a soupified caterpillar in a chrysalis — or like a croissant lovingly shaped by the hands of an elderly chef in Paris and baked with care in a regulated oven — or like a wonderfully blubbery elephant seal baking on a slick rock — or like a space rock hurtling through the —

“Morning, Sunshine,” murmurs a very familiar voice. Following the very gentle murmur is a very gentle smooch on the forehead. Will, still mostly asleep, thinks he would sign off his soul without a second thought to ensure it happens again. “Or evening, rather.”

“Has anyone ever offered you their soul?” Will asks, fuzzy and disoriented. He tries and fails to blink the grogginess away, but the world around him stays dark, and the hand in his hair remains where it is, and he is so, so sleepy.

“Not yet,” Nico says. Will can hear the amused smile in his voice. “Why?”

Will yawns. “No reason. Timizzit?”

“Late, tesoro. Past curfew.”

Will groans, knocking his head gently back into Nico’s hold.

Of course his dumb ass slept through the evening. Of course he now has to drag himself awake and walk, in the blistering, nose-numbing frost (it’s sixty degrees, Solace) across camp, dodging feral harpy attacks (Apollo kids have harpy immunity, William), and trudging into his sad, small, lonely bed (gods above you are your father’s son) where he will of course be fully awake by the time he gets there. God really does give his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers. (You’re an atheist, William Andrew.)

“Why me,” he laments, refusing to move from his boyfriend’s lap. Perhaps he will simply wither here, warm, satisfied, and more importantly away from little siblings who will not stop squabbling even when their long-suffering older brother looks longingly and pointedly at a bottle of cyanide.

Nico snorts. “Because the gods are punishing you for your crimes.”

“I have committed no crimes! This is unjust! Partisan! I am Hester Prynne and she is me —”

“Your mother is going to hell for teaching you literacy.”

“Defamation and libel!”

“Shut up, Will, gods —”

But he softens the blow of his words by leaning down, hands on either side of Will’s face, and kissing him like he’s trying to breathe him back to life. Or keep him quiet, honestly, but he smells like woodsmoke and citrus and old leather so Will doesn’t really mind. Even if he did, the chapped skin of Nico’s lips serves as a very good distraction, as does the brush of his thumb over Will’s cheekbone and the cool press of his ring against Will’s heated skin.

“Stay over,” he whispers, shifting his lips to Will’s chin, his jaw, his neck. He scratches his teeth lightly against Will’s adam’s apple and his hemoglobin briefly forget how important their job is. “You don’t have a shift tomorrow and everyone at camp owes you, like, twelve favours each.”

“That’s very convincing,” Will mumbles, unsure if he’s referring to Nico’s sound logic or the breath he blows on the shell of Will’s ear, which makes his arrector pili muscles go crazy. (He could make a more convincing case for the logic if all the blood had not abandoned his brain. Alas.)

“I’m a very convincing person.”

He slides a hand under Will’s shirt and his already very weak resolve pulls out a suitcase, packs its things, and abandons its family to pursue a career in competitive shoemaking. Or something. Nico’s hands are very very cold and it feels really really good for some reason and Will is just one man, okay. He may have been named after willpower but that does not mean he possesses any. And Nico is a convincing person. He out-stubborned Death.

“Okay,” he gasps out, arching into the nail Nico scratches over the intensely sensitive skin of his hip, “I’m staying, I’m staying, please take all your wiles and ship them out into the sea in a wine crate ala Danaë and her newborn.”

“…You are such a deeply strange person.”

“And yet you love me so.”

Nico presses his smile to Will’s forehead. “Indeed, I do.”

[boombox-fuckboy]

May 3rd is Bandcamp Friday, which means artists on Bandcamp get more out of your purchases. Why not support some of your favourite fiction podcasters, and get some crisp audio in the process?

Fiction Podcasts

Anamnesis (Full Audio Drama + Soundtrack)

Awake

The Dungeon Economic Model (The Complete Series)

Folxlore (Part 1 • Part 2)

Inn Between (Season 1 • Season 2 • Season 3)

Old Gods of Appalachia (Season 1 • Season 3)

Sidequesting (Season 1 • Season 2)

The Tower (Part I • Part II • Part III)

What Will Be Here

Podcast Specials

The Deca Tapes (Puzzle Box)

The Dungeon Economic Model (Halloween Special)

Leaving Corvat (TEMPLE OF SLEEP)

Welcome To Night Vale (Live Shows: Condos • The Debate • The Librarian • The Investigators • Ghost Stories • All Hail • A Spy in the Desert • The Haunting of Night Vale)

Where The Stars Fell (The Christmas Chronicle)

Music From Podcasts

The Adventure Zone

Aftershocks (Soundtrack)

Alice Isn't Dead (Music From)

All My Fantasy Children

Among The Stars and Bones (OST)

ars PARADOXICA (When I'm Not Here • Electric River (End Theme))

The Ballard of Anne & Mary (Soundtrack)

The Big Loop (OST: FML • The Fugue )

The Deca Tapes (OST)

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio (OST: Season One • Season Two)

Dreamboy (Silent Night, Holy Night)

The Dungeon Economic Model (Royal Musical Accompaniment • Chill Beats to Build Profitable Dungeons To)

Eeler's Choice (OST)

The Fall of the House of Sunshine

Folxlore (Music To Dance With Your Inner Demons To)

Friends At The Table

Gospels of the Flood (Soundtrack)

Greater Boston (Soundtrack, Seasons 1-3)

The Grotto (Soundtrack)

Hello From The Hallowoods (Starcrossed Gods OST)

It Makes A Sound (Wim Farros: The Attic Tape)

Kane and Feels (OST: Volume 1 • Volume 2)

Lake Clarity (OST)

Leaving Corvat (Re-mastered soundtrack)

Liars & Leeches

The Lost Cat Podcast (Musical Features)

Malevolent

Midnight Radio (OST)

Mockery Manor (The Music Of: Season One • Season Two • Season Three • A Midwinter Night's Dream)

Neoscum

Nowhere, On Air

Old Gods of Appalachia (What is Sung Under The Mountain Vol. 1 • The Land Unknown (Theme) • The Bride • Familiar & Beloved)

Our Fair City

The Pasithea Powder (Theme • Mary Ann • Odysseus)

The Penumbra Podcast

The Polybius Conspiracy (OST)

Re: Dracula (Concept Album)

ROGUEMAKER (Soundtrack)

Rogue Runners (OST)

Skyjacks (Call of the Sky)

Station Blue (OST)

The Strange Case of Starship Iris

This Planet Needs a Name (Albums: The Nameless Songs - Landing - Growing - Shifting)

The Tower (Original Score: Part I • Part II • Part III)

Unplaced (Soundtrack)

Unseen (Soundtrack)

Where The Stars Fell

WOE.BEGONE

Wolf 359 (OST: Volume One • Volume Two • Volume Three)

Zero Hours

2024 Bandcamp Friday Dates

May 3rd

September 6th

October 4th

December 6th

[octoberautumnbox]

Discordant Waltz: Friday

Oh Sieun ICE Oh Rosi (Former IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri) & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, anal, uniform, clothed sex, rough anal, uhh anal, loud sex, fuck buddy, fwb, ANAL

Word count: 1.9k

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: Based very loosely on Friday by IU actually, but like in a really really perverted way. Also based on Hang On by Jo Yuri babygurl lol. I hope the emotions I want to portray come across well lmao

Your phone buzzed as you set it at 0% volume. The sparkly bits of the curb shone the orange sunlight into your eyes. Worried about Sieun, you resolved to be a bit early for your regular Friday "date" with her, but the loud angry voices and clanging sounds coming from within her house gave you the impression that she was… busy. At this rate, the six-pack of beer you brought for the two of you would be warm before you even see her.

You leaned back onto the side of her house, waiting for the noises to stop, fiddling with your phone, picking at the gravel beneath your shoes. It was a good spot, the one you’re sitting at, just out of view from the front door in case anyone leaves. You’re not here to intrude, just worried about your… friend. Yeah, just a friend.

Friends look out for each other, after all. They’re supposed to offer support in the times and ways their friends need them to. That’s all you’re doing, just offering support to your friend. Your friend who invites you over to her house to fuck on a weekly basis. Your friend who recently came her brains out in a school restroom with you. Your friend whose visuals while sucking your cock are burned into your mind and easily accessible whenever you need a quick release. 

A voice rings loud from near their front door. You try to hide yourself more, but with such an open space, there’s not much to do. You’re sure you hear Sieun yelling, followed by a loud slam of a door and trudging steps leading away from the house. 

You place your phone in your backpack and, once the coast is clear, you walk up quietly, respectfully, to the poor front door. Before your knuckles come into contact with the wood, the door swings open to reveal your friend, teary-eyed and distraught.

“Look, I– I’m fine,” she says between sobs and ragged breaths. She keeps her eyes shut and covered with her hands as she tries her best not to ruin her makeup. “There’s no reason to…”

You cut her off then and there; whatever’s bothering her can wait. The door shuts and she suddenly finds her back is shoved up against the wall and your hands on her shoulders. Your sudden attack catches her off guard, but your friend is more than willing to let your tongue into her mouth like she always does. She moans a little moan as you lick her tongue back, and she places her hands on each of your cheeks to keep you in place. 

Pull away and give her some breathing room. Notice her unsteady breathing, her tears running down her cheeks. “I brought beer,” you mention casually as if you didn’t just take her breath away, “might be warm by now. Let’s drink it after.”

“I-” is all she can say before you come in for another torrid kiss. Despite a bit more hesitance from her, she welcomes your tongue back in her mouth and tries to match your energy. Run your hands down the sides of her uniform and reach the hem of her skirt. Without breaking the kiss, you open your eyes and find hers closed, with a tear forming and falling down her cheek. She must be really upset. 

Thinking she must really need this, you choose not to waste any more time and grab your friend's ass through her panties under her skirt. She lets out an “ah~” when she feels you kneading the flesh of her butt and melts back into your kiss deeply. You pick her up by her behind, and her legs wrap around your waist as she gets lifted up off the ground. 

You’ve done this a million times by now; you know the way from the front door to her bedroom like the back of your hand. You know it so well that it was no issue at all to carry her there without breaking the kiss. Throw her onto the mattress, forcing her bedframe to groan and creak like you’ve heard countless nights before. She looks at you expectantly, maybe a bit scared, definitely like she forgot about what was on her mind earlier. Now you’ve got her. 

Your shirt leaves your body and you join her in bed, taking your royal place beside her. She captures your lips with hers again, but surprisingly just after a few seconds she pulls you down to her neck. 

Thinking nothing of the new "interests" she now has, you attack her neck, gently biting and licking at her skin and causing her to groan at the feeling of you ravaging previously untouched territory. You enjoy how she feels against your lips and the sweet smell of her long hair that you’ve never been allowed to sniff before. 

She brings your hand over to her thighs, and you graciously start squeezing them and feeling her soft and smooth skin. You found it weird she hasn't asked for your dick yet, but you gather she's still shaken from her earlier fight with whoever that was. Give her time to settle, but also give her the love she needs.

Feeling her thighs warming up, you inch your hand closer to her waiting core. Her legs part and allow access, and you find a large wet spot right over her sex. Pull aside the thin fabric and trace circles around her nub, bite and pull at the skin of her neck. She grows wetter by the second, and moans spill out of her mouth faster than you can rub her off. 

"No marks, please…" she whimpers, obviously flustered but not yet fully needy: just a bit more. 

You respond with another kiss and an attempt to insert two fingers into her leaking pussy, but she pushes your hand away.

“In my ass…” She whispers quietly to you, as if ashamed of wanting it. Your friend shifts to lie on her side and face away from you, presenting you with her pink, virgin asshole. 

Never minding her choices for today, you reach for a condom and the unopened bottle of lube in her nightstand. You strip yourself of your pants and put the rubber on by yourself. You slather lube first on your erect cock, and put some on your fingers before sliding one of them into your friend's butt. 

"Oh oppa, that's good…" she moans as you invade deeper and deeper into her ass. You try finding her good spots inside her tight asshole, but resolve to just get it over with and fuck her as quick as you can. Forget about how she isn’t as chatty as she typically is, forget how oppa is a nickname you’ve never heard from her before. Just forget, and make sure she remembers this, you, instead.

Steady her with a hand on her hip, grip the side of her uniform, line up your rock-hard cock with her waiting hole. Fighting back your lust for the gorgeous woman in bed with you, you give her a taste by inserting your head slowly into her. She sucks in air between her teeth and hisses her pleasure quietly. 

"Mmm…" she tries to contain a loud moan you're sure she wouldn't have been able to hold back if you fucked her as hard as you usually do. Go easy, she needs to relax today. 

You push your cock deeper and deeper into her despite her weak protests. She tries fighting, whispering "not too deep, please," and taking your hand from her hip to grip it hard between hers. You find it increasingly difficult to keep from plowing her as hard as you can, and the way her tight asshole stretches to take you isn't doing you any favors.

A sense of confusion creeps into your mind: you know she takes rougher than this from you all the time, but she seems to genuinely be hurting now. On the other hand, if she's hurting then she would just say your safe word and get herself some breathing room. You soldier on (you know how sick she is in the head), but take extra care not to hurt your friend too bad.

Soon after, your continued thrusts start earning her sweet moans instead. She acclimates to your cock rubbing against the insides of her ass and even starts meeting your thrusts into her. Feel her plump ass on your pelvis, admire how your friend’s skin is smooth against yours. Pull her close, never mind the wrinkles that form on the formerly clean-pressed white blazer she has on. 

There’s no reason to muffle her this time, she can be as loud as she likes. She can bite and kick and scream for all you care, all you need is her to feel as good as she always does on Friday nights. 

“I-I’m close…” Relish in how pliant, how willing, how submissive she is for you. How she takes you so obediently despite her pain like she knows you own her. Her eagerness and the way her insides squeeze your cock so lovingly drive you crazy. As much as you want this night to last forever, you know it’s about to end. 

Fuck her faster. Make sure she feels every vein on your cock, make her yours as her throat sores with her groans.

Pound her harder. She’s pulling at her bedsheets, voice quaking, straining to keep her sanity. Her asshole clenches around you, trying to keep you all for herself.

With a final deep thrust, your orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning. Bury your thick cock as deep as humanly possible into the woman of your dreams. Your dick twitches and sends waves of pleasure up her spine as her voice strains for higher and higher notes to match her ecstasy. 

At the same time, she's forced over the edge of her sanity and falls into a purgatory of mind-numbing pleasure. She lets out stream after stream of her cum onto the sheets and mattress. Her bite marks imprint on the pillow case, as does whatever ruined makeup she was wearing. 

You both come down from your highs, and you spend a minute, at most two, cuddling her. Finally, expending your energy to peek at whether she's still alert and aware, you get up and lean on your elbow only to find her eyes lazily half-shut, her breathing deep and slow, and her tongue out and resting on the pillow too. 

Remind yourself: this is your friend. This isn't the woman of your dreams; it can't be. Why would you even think otherwise? What else could there be between the two of you? Nothing at all, just friends.

You make sure she's comfortable in bed, drape a blanket over her, and leave her bedroom. On your way out, you place the six-pack of beer into the fridge. 

The walk back home is quiet and somber, like a shower of rain hanging in the sky that’s too stubborn to fall. Must be the post-nut clarity, but you start to wonder: why was Sieun so submissive this time? Why was she letting you kiss her neck, fuck her ass? And what the hell was that uniform?

You vaguely notice your phone vibrate at the bottom of your backpack. You reach in and fish it out, absent-mindedly unlocking it and reading your notifications.

Twenty-seven missed calls.

~~~

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: and there you have it! if im being totally honest this was really awkward to write but i hope the anal part earns me a little bit of exp for the next time i write it. btw the emotions i wanted to portray were awkward and weird and conflicted lol. as always feedback is always welcome and i look forward your asks and dms all the time :)))) 

[sage-green-matcha]

NEIGHBOR - ETHAN LANDRY 🏙️

When Ethan can’t get enough of the girl next door!

MINORS DNI!

Content includes: SMUT! oral receiving !Fem, Ethan catching you! Switch Ethan kinda? A bit of praise!

A/n: wanted this to be longer but honestly had no energy to finish it :( but I rlly wanted to publish it anyways so here u go!

<3

<3

<3

You sighed at the sound of loud music playing. It was just loud enough to be heard through the wall. Even if the song that was playing was from one of your favorite artists, you just wanted to sleep. You had a big Econ test that you couldn't afford to fail.

You picked yourself up lazily, blanket wrapped around you as you slipped on your loafers. You felt the cold touch your legs, shivering as you walked next door.

You knocked a couple of times, looking up to be met with a familiar face. "Oh uh, Y/n...what are you doing here?" Ethan Landry? You knew him from your Econ class, and also Chad's best friend. You two had been partners for projects a couple times, so to say he was a stranger would be a lie. "Oh uh, hey Ethan. I was wondering if you could turn down your music a bit? I'm trying to sleep" He gulped, feeling immediate guilt for disturbing your sleep.

"Oh, yea..yea! I'm sorry" "Thanks" you smiled. You walked back to your apartment, you didn't know he was your neighbor. You had been living in the small, New York apartment complex for about 6 months. And you hadn't seen him till now. 

It was the same thing for the next couple of days, waking up at night to tell him he was being too loud or his music was making the wall shake. He always apologized, yet he never cared to change his volume before you went over to ask.

Ethan started doing it on purpose. He loved the way you looked when you had just rolled out of bed. It drove him crazy. Tired eyes with the prettiest sleepy voice. You would always wear a baggy teeshirt, no shorts underneath and just a blanket wrapped around you, bare legs.

You struggled to fall asleep, confused at the disappearance of the loud music you had been hearing for the past week. It felt strange but you shook it off, finally able to enjoy a full night's rest without any disruptions.

Or so you'd thought.

You groaned into your pillow as you heard a couple knocks on the door. It was a Friday, and you weren't expecting anyone to come over, especially not at 1 am. You dragged yourself out of bed, not caring about your slippers. You slipped out a yawn as you opened the door, this time Ethan at yours.

"Ethan...hey, what are you doing here?" You rubbed your eyes, the light from the hallway hurting them. "I got locked out of my apartment...I left my keys in class.." you frowned. "Oh no, did you call the landlord?" "He's in New Jersey?" his hands were in his sweats, small and worried frown on his face.

"Uhm, I guess you could stay with me for the night" his heart pumped out of his chest. That's exactly what he hoped you'd say. "Are you sure...? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything" You nodded. "Yea It's fine" you smiled, letting him inside. "Sorry to wake you up again" you shrugged. "Felt weird without your music anyways, I'm kinda getting used to it"

He put down his bag by the couch, watching you walk Into your bedroom to get blankets. He was more than excited. His plan had worked. He had his keys in his bag and had dressed in comfy clothes so he had no problem with having to change.

You plopped down the pile of blankets on the couch, tossing a pillow over to him. He watched as you laid out the blankets for him, placing the other pillow at the end of the couch. "Thanks" He smiled up at you. "No problem, if you want any snacks you can go in my pantry, Tara makes me stack up. And uh, there are drinks in the fridge"

"Thanks, for everything" "Stop thanking me, I'd want you to let me sleep over if I was locked out" you shrugged, turning around to go back to bed. "Night, Ethan" "Goodnight..."

But you weren't having a good night. Tossing in turning in your bed as you felt an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. Warmth gathered in your core and you rubbed your thighs against each other. You knew you couldn't do anything about it, especially not with a guest in the house.

But your pussy was hungry for touch, a pain filled you up. A pain that could only be relieved by touching yourself. You sighed with guilt as you stuck your hand into your panties, rubbing small circles against your sensitive bud. You bit your lip, holding back any small whimpers. You'd die before you'd let Ethan see you like this, yet again you probably wouldn't mind if he walked in on you.

Your movements got faster, a small sloppy moan coming from your mouth. You heard the couch creak, making you pause. "Y/n...you okay in there?" "I'm fine" you answered, melting into the mattress as you pulled out your hand. You were frustrated, almost close to your small orgasm. "You sure?" "I'm Good, Ethan" You heard his footsteps go back to where he originally was, putting your hand back into your panties.

This time you were careful not to make a noise. Only the sound of your wetness was barely heard under the sheets. Your mouth was deep into your pillow, shoving two of your fingers deep into your hole. Your walls tightened around your hand, dripping wet as you thrust your fingers into yourself.

Your mind was clouded, the feeling of your hand on your clit while the other was thrusting hard made you roll your eyes back. You were careful not to make any noise, a tie in your stomach forming. You were so so close, the possibility of getting caught turned you on even more.

What would Ethan think of you? That you're a slut? That you're gross? Or would he rip your legs open and help you out? You felt your legs shake as you pushed towards your orgasm. Frustrating and embarrassment filled you as you heard the door open. You couldn't care less though, you continued to fuck yourself as Ethan walked over.

"Y/n...what are you doing?" Ethan rubbed his eyes, staring at your position. "Oh..." he walked closer to the bed, your head still fucked out as you rubbed small circles against your clit. "You're so dirty..." a small scoff fell from his lips as he peeled the cover off of you, your hands covered in your juices.

"You're not very quiet Y/n" Every time he said your name you wanted to melt. It sounded so good rolling off his tongue. You continued to pump your fingers into yourself, biting your lip with your eyes closed as he watched. You felt so dirty, just like he said.

Your body heated up at his touch, his warm hand gripping your thigh. A whimper escaped your mouth as your movements slowed down, the tie in your stomach seconds away from snapping. "Don't stop, you can do it" his hands held onto your inner thigh, thumb gently rubbing on your skin.

"You look so pretty fucked out" his words shot straight to your core, legs shaking as you felt yourself release onto your fingers. "Wasn't that hard, was it?" Your chest raised with every breath you took, Ethan taking your cum covered fingers into his mouth.

Your breath hitched Ethan, staring into your eyes as he sucked your fingers, letting them out with a "pop" coming from his lips. You didn't think twice before you were on top of him, lips sucking with desperation as his hands ran up your shirt.

You knew this was wrong, but damn it felt so right. The way his hands perfectly grabbed your waist, lips fitting together like a puzzle. He let out a small groan as your knee slipped in between his legs. Feeling his hard boner on your skin.

You deepened the kiss, lowering yourself on top of him as you rubbed against his dick. He let out a small moan, your hands now pulling on the strings of his grey sweats.

"You're such a slut" You pulled away from the kiss, Ethan's lips on your neck. "Yet you're the one that was watching me" "And you're the one that kept going" you melted into him as he pressed down on your clit, still sensitive from earlier.

Your small, whiney sounds turned him on. Thrusting himself against your clit. "Don't be so desperate" you mumbled, your teeth sinking into his shoulder as he made friction. "I could say the same about you" he flipped the two of you over, pushing you up closer against the headboard.

He hovered over top of you, biting down on your lip as you looked up at him with eyes full of desire. You'd never looked as good as you did right there. "Can I go down on you?" You were slightly taken aback but nodded anyways. You had never had a guy ask you, you always had to ask them first. And they always insisted for something in return.

Ethan wasn't like that, he just wanted to pleasure you. Just getting to see your eyes roll back and your cum on his fingers would be enough for him.

He pampered small kisses against your jaw. They got sloppier as he moved down, marking you with his lips all the way to your waist. Ethan looked up at you with sweet eyes. He pulled down your panties, pulling apart your legs. You felt the cold air on your pussy, wetness covering your glistening core. You felt nervousness gather in your stomach, taking a deep breath.

He ran his fingers through your folds, jolting at the feel. You felt so vulnerable with him. He honestly had no idea what he was doing. He had seen it done once. Accidentally walking in on Chad and Tara one night. But besides that, absolutely clueless.

You sensed his confidence start to go down, taking small breaths. "You okay...?" "I uhm, yea...just not too sure how to do this" You just shook your head, smiling before sitting up. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to do anything" his face was soft, running your hand through his hair as he stared with his lips agape.

"No...no it's okay. I want to learn" "yea?" "Mhm," he chewed on his lip, staring back at you with doughy brown eyes. "Just do what feels right. And I'll tell you what feels good, alright?" He nodded, watching as you spread your legs open once again. He swore you were the prettiest person he'd ever seen. And to see you like this got him so flustered.

He ran his finger through your folds once again, collecting the extra cum from your hole. Your body shivered, craving more of his fingers on you. Your breath hitched as you felt his tongue flatten on your clit, biting back your lip as he stared at you.

"Keep going, good" he felt better as you praised him, doing tricks with his mouth on your pussy. His nails dug into the skin of your thighs, the pain proving you with more pleasure. Small whimpers and heavy breaths escaped from your mouth, Ethan lapping and sucking all over your core.

Your mind was cloudy, your back arching as you grabbed onto the bedsheets. "Please please please" Your hands dug into his hair, pushing his mouth closer to your pussy. His nose rubbed against your clit, his tongue deep in your hole. Your stomach pulsed, feeling hot all over your body.

"Fuck, E... I'm gonna cum" you hummed, feeling his fingers quicken on your sensitive clit. He hadn't even pushed his fingers into you and you were about to cum. The way he looked up at you made you moan, staring back through barely open eyes. Your legs wrapped tightly around his head, basically suffocating him with your thighs.

He pried your legs apart, shaking and weak as he continued to taste you. You tasted so sweet, the feeling of you on his tongue was addicting. He tried to rub himself against the bed, feeling the pain of his ignored boner get to him.

"Shit…shit" you bit back your bottom lip, body shaking as you felt cum drip from your pussy. Ethan's mouth was wide open, licking all of the cum up like your pussy was an ice cream cone. "Taste so good" You pushed his head away while he licked, too sensitive to continue.

He admired your sweaty face, watching as your chest rose with each heavy breath. "You okay...?" He asked, concerned. "Mhm," you hid your face in the pillow, Ethan coming back up to kiss you. "Was I okay?" You held back a smile, nodding at him.

Your lips connected once again, tasting yourself in his mouth. You got why he wanted more, pushing yourself closer to him. Heavy breaths filled the room, Ethan grabbing your waist before whispering something in your ear. “I didn’t actually…leave my keys” he chewed on his lip, watching as your eyebrows furrowed. “Really? Why’d you lie?” “For this”

You rolled your eyes before kissing him again, his cheeks a light pink as you pulled back. “Fucking creep” your lips formed into a smile, teasing him. “I’m not a creep” “You are, but you know what? It’s kinda hot”

[gentle-forest-daddy]

The Tantrum (Part 1)

A three-part ABDL romance. All characters are 18+. CW: Diapers, Spanking, Bondage, Messing, Wetting

Katelyn pulled into the driveway, her hands tight on the wheel and stereo loud enough to make it shake.

“Fuck my life,” she sighed to herself, before switching off the engine.

She breathed in deep, held it until the count of three, then breathed out what was supposed to be a controlled exhale but was really an angry huff. She huffed again and grabbed her bag, climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind her, only to be yanked backwards when she tried to storm off.

Katelyn whirled around and saw her coat caught in the door. Glaring, she gave it a vicious yank, which turned into her falling on her butt when the thrifted wool tore with a thunderous riiiip.

“Oh come on!” she whined, slamming her hands on the pavement, which was quickly followed by “Owww.”

After giving the driveway a dirty look, she stormed up to the house, holding back tears threatening to break through the thunderclouds on her face.

It had been another shitty Friday in a long string of shitty Fridays (and Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays...), and as was the case after every shitty day, Katelyn had a lazer focus on the bottle of wine waiting in the fridge.

Drink to forget your day, and any part you might have played in it. A flawless plan.

She took a bit more care closing the front door, but still managed a gunshot slam. With a couple kicks, her heels arced down the hall, and she tossed her bag in the direction of the couch, wincing when the loud thud announced she’d missed her target. That just added to her burning frustration, and she whipped off her torn coat and kicked it in the direction of the closet.

From around the corner she could hear chopping and frying and felt a pang of annoyance at the thought of interacting with another human. Even Ryan. But still, she followed the smell of sizzling onions.

Ryan looked up from the cutting board as she stomped in, his smile falling to something more cautious when he saw her face.

“How was your day, honey?”

Katelyn made no stop on her way to the fridge, hunting for the chilled red she brought home last night.

“Fine. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

She moved to the cupboard to grab the big wine glass, the one Ryan jokingly called her wine bowl, before remembering it was still in sink.

“You know you can talk to me.”

Katelyn sighed as she pulled the wine glass out of the dirty pile and started swishing some soapy water in it.

“I know,” she said a little too quickly, scrubbing at the wine residue.

“Okay.” The chopping got louder.

Once the glass hit ‘good enough,’ Katelyn went for the corkscrew, tugging open the bottle with practiced hands. She gave herself a generous pour (Ryan didn’t drink the stuff anyway) and turned to go nest on the couch when she saw what he was sliding into the skillet.

“You’re using carrots?”

Ryan looked at her surprised, stirring the pan as the sweet fragrance made Katelyn wrinkle her nose.

“Yeah, we both agreed we need more vegetables. It was on the meal plan.”

A moment of guilt cross her mind as she remembered the digital meal planner, the one she still hadn’t opened. But the guilt was quickly overwhelmed as her mind conjured the revolting taste of carrot.

“You know I hate carrots. I’m not eating that.”

Mentally, she was already on UberEats. She’d done burgers three nights ago, maybe tonight she’d go KFC.

Ryan didn't look up from the stove, his voice flat.

“Katie, I’ve been cooking since I got home. We planned one meal tonight, no takeout. Can you at least try it?”

She knew he was right, which was maybe why she felt a helpless rage flare up. Was it too much to ask for some comfort food after the day she’d had? The week? The month? The tears were threatening again and her mind flashed back to the work lunch, the one hadn’t even wanted to go to, but Mr. Henderson had to be wined and dined…

“I’m not eating it!” she said, surprising herself at the volume.

She needed out of there, away from Ryan and his carrots. She whirled around, moving just a little to fast, and felt a cold splash hit her chest.

Katelyn froze at the sight of red wine soaking into her best work blouse.

“Oh Katie.” Ryan had sympathy pain all over his face, but somehow that just made it worse. She couldn’t stop herself from stomping her foot for real this time, sloshing more wine on the floor.

“Don’t mock me!” Ryan was getting blurry as she blinked hard. “None of this would have happened if you just cooked something good!”

There was a hint of danger in Ryan’s voice as he grabbed a dish cloth from the sink.

“I haven’t made you do anything, and I would appreciate it if you started acting like a grown up. Do you want help cleaning up?”

Katelyn snatched the cloth out his hand and started dabbing her ruined shirt, for all the good it would do.

“I’ve had a really hard day and I just want food I can eat,” she mumbled, trying to keep her voice from breaking.

Ryan sighed. “You’ve had a lot of hard days lately, and we’ve had a lot of takeout lately. Can you please just try it?”

Katelyn gave up dabbing and flung the cloth back at him, unintentional aiming for his face, which Ryan narrowly caught.

“Fine!”

She was about to storm out when Ryan grabbed her wrist and spun her back to face him. His eyes locked on hers and she felt a small flicker in her chest from the times when he’d had more fun reasons to give her that look.

“If you keep acting like a toddler having a tantrum, I’m going to treat you like one. Is that what you want?”

Those words …

Even in her frustration and anger, a memory surfaced, that very specific phrase and the gravity of the question. She looked into her fiance’s serious eyes. It had to have been over a year since they’d practiced this exchange, well before her promotion. But faced with the real deal for the first time, she felt her subconscious make the decision for her.

“Fuck off!” she said, and pulled her hand free to slap him.

Ryan caught it with a much less gentle grip. A shiver ran through her as she looked up at him and felt the weight of the pact she’d just signed.

“This has been a long time coming.” Ryan grabbed her other wrist and started pulling her out of the kitchen.

“Stop it! Let me go, asshole!”

Katelyn leaned back and dug her heels in, but it hardly slowed Ryan down. Her fiance dragged her down the hall with ease, her hands trapped in an iron grip and sock feet sliding easily. Her rage was back in full force and she leaned into it, no filter.

“Fuck you! I hate you!”

She tried kicking him, but instead lost her balance and slipped on to her butt, and Ryan just swirled her around and started dragging her backwards as she kicked her feet uselessly. Soon she was sitting at the foot of their bed, and a second later he hoisted her up and over his lap.

Katelyn thrashed as best she could, but Ryan had her pinned, her body pitched forward, keeping her off balance. She felt cold air hit her butt as her pants were tugged down to her ankles and was about to unleash a string of obscenities when the first thunderous WACK! struck her ass.

“Do you know why you’re in trouble?”

The spank shocked her, but Katelyn wasn’t done fighting.

“Because my boyfriend is a stupid carrot-loving dick!”

WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK!

The ferociousness of each spank killed any smart comments she had stored up, drowned in the pain radiating from her backside.

“Is it maybe because you’ve been acting like a selfish baby for months now?”

WACK! WACK!

“You’ve left messes everywhere.”

WACK! WACK!

“You’ve been incredibly rude.”

WACK! WACK!

“And you’re drunk every other night.”

WACK! WACK!

“You’ve” WACK! “Been.” WACK! “A.” WACK! “Very.” WACK! “Bad.” WACK! “Girl!”

There was no stopping the tears now --- every spank drove coherent thought further from her mind, leaving only the pain, anger and fear to finally boil over as Ryan’s hand rained down again and again.

Katelyn sobbed.

(Part 2)

[catladyoftheyr]

Muscle Memory PT 2

PT 1

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Word count: 937, just a short chapter :)

Summary: you left something at the bar and Miguel offers to drive up to return it; Miguel has some alone time after work and has some ✨ fun✨ while he watches the videos he took last time (this chapter is really just Mig jerking off sorry not sorry)

Warnings: m masturbation, porn, no plot just smut really, mention of unprotected p in v and facials, mentions of jealousy.

Tag: @safixiovi

You’d been back home for a couple days and were heating up leftovers for dinner when you heard your phone ping. You picked it up and saw a text from Miguel

Mig: hey did you lose something?

You: maybe, what is it?

You racked your brain for any potential missing items, but you misplaced things fairly often so it could be anything. Your phone chimed again with an incoming picture from Miguel. It was your charm bracelet with your initials. It must have slipped off when you were at the bar. It looked like the clasp was broken so you made a mental note to get it fixed when you found time.

You: yeah it’s mine. Thank you for finding it! Can you hold onto it for a little while? I don’t know when I’ll have time to drive into town.

Mig: I can run it up to you this weekend. I don’t have any plans anyways.

You: That's like a 2 hour drive, Miguel. I can’t ask you to do that. Especially just for a bracelet.

Mig: good thing I’m offering then. We can make a weekend of it; the bar will be fine without me. Unless you were planning on having someone else in your bed this weekend ;)

You: who still uses the winky face? I’ll see you Friday.

You grabbed your food from the microwave and ate quickly, not caring that it was still cold in the middle. You were always so busy with work that you had a tendency to neglect household chores. As a result, your apartment had started to fall into disarray. You groaned, knowing you had limited time to clean and prepare for your guest. Luckily the kitchen wasn’t too messy, seeing as you weren’t incredibly fond of cooking. You loaded the dishwasher and went on autopilot to tidy the rest of your small apartment.

Miguel’s POV

Miguel locked the back door of O’haras behind him and made the short drive home. He had your bracelet safe inside his glove box and told himself he’d replace the broken clasp before Friday. He let out a deep sigh, exhausted from the evening's work. The bar had been busier than usual and Miguel had had to pull triple duty to call outs. Once past the threshold of his bedroom door he began to immediately peel off layers of clothing before collapsing into bed in just his boxers.

He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come, but he knew it was a lost cause. His mind drifted to the upcoming weekend plans. He wondered what you were doing, what you were thinking about, if you were thinking about him too. Were you alone like him, or was there another man in your bed? Miguel felt a pang of jealousy when he tried to picture you with someone else. He selfishly wanted you to himself.

Miguel thought about the nights you’d spent together, and told himself no one else could measure up to him; that other men couldn’t pleasure you like he does. He’d had his own string of lovers in his bed, but no one matched the chemistry between you and him. Miguel remembered how you looked going down on him, the devilish grin you wore when teased him. He felt his cock twitch as his thoughts grew more lustful.

Memories of the last weekend came flooding back to Miguel, and he grew harder thinking about the way you pressed against him at the pool table, how your mouth felt, and how fucking tight you gripped him when he pounded into you against his car. Miguel pulled his cock through the opening of his boxers and began to pump it slowly and deliberately in his fist. He opened his phone in his other hand and scrolled until he found the footage of him drumming into you. He turned the volume up as loud as it would go, the sounds of skin on skin and raw pleasure filling the room.

“Fuccckkkk” he groaned, slightly quickening the pace of his fist. The way you moaned drove him crazy. He wished he could video call you right now, show you how even when you’re not around he was still enamored by you. He watched the screen intently, remembering how it felt to be inside you, how your pussy gripped him just right. He watched himself grope at your breasts and how they bounced when he fucked you. Miguel’s breathing got heavier, and he stroked himself firmly, watching how your eyes rolled back when he hit your g-spot. He moaned your name as he saw you shake with your orgasm on screen; he bucked his hips into his hand as remembered how it felt to be inside you.

Miguel swiped to the photos he’d taken of you with his cum on your face. You smiled proudly at the camera, so eager to show off for him. He could feel himself getting closer to his own orgasm. “Fuck, nena” he gasped as he pumped his cock as fast as he could. Miguel closed his eyes and pictured himself splattering on your pretty face again, tongue out and eager to taste him. He felt himself shoot warmth out over his hand and torso and sighed as he came down to earth again.

He reached wearily for the tissues on his night stand and cleaned himself quickly. His eyes fell shut heavily as his fatigue began to set in. Miguel sighed as he reached for a spare pillow and rolled over hugging it tight to his check. Sleep came quickly now, and he was sure he’d dream of you.

[undead-supernova]

Masterlist

plot: when you suggest that you and Eddie should quit smoking cigarettes, Eddie struggles to believe in his capabilities. but there's just something about the way you challenge him...

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

important note: this is a one-off of my High Tolerance series! Somehow I can't get enough of Eddie and Weirdo and I can't help but come back to them. (this is six months before Part 1 of the original series!)

warnings: fluffy fluff fluff fluuuuuuuuuuffffff, talking about smoking, a small argument, Southern culture, country music, reader has an accent, (why are Eddie and Weirdo so horny as friends? shouldn't they have known sooner? idiots)

wc: 2.4k

thank yew @strangergraphics for your adorable dividers!!!!

It was unusual, the way it all started.

Just a normal Tuesday with the bitter cold of January and the crowded highways blocked off by unnecessary construction. Honks muffled by the sound of Guns ‘N Roses’ “Welcome To The Jungle” coming through your speakers. You were clad in a black turtleneck and jeans. Eyes lined in black, maroon-lipped. Spiked bracelets and nine shiny rings dappling light around the car.

Eddie was riding shotgun, sighing alongside you at how slow the traffic was moving when you first said it.

“I have a proposition.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “A proposition?”

You nodded. “Yeah, and I want you to hear me out.”

“Uh, okay?” he said, unsure as to what was about to come out of your mouth.

“I think we should stop smoking cigarettes,” you stated simply, looking back at the road as you inched forward. “A New Year’s resolution.”

“Nuh-uh,” he said, throwing his hands up, his rings reflecting off yours. “No way. Nope.”

“What! Why not?” you exclaimed, now throwing your hands up before promptly putting them back on the steering wheel.

Eddie had his own reasons, like how he’d been smoking for nearly ten years and the irritation of working at a dealership where rich idiots badgered him for just doing his job. The stress of bills and keeping his music career afloat. Not to mention how fucking sweet a puff of nicotine was whenever he got drunk or cross-faded. Nothing beats that feeling. Even you knew that.

“I just don’t want to.”

“Even if I did it with you?” you asked, voice growing soft.

He looked at you, confusion falling over his features. Your eyes seemed a little solemn, like you were disappointed by his refusal. And it was in your expression that he felt drawn to the idea. Because, yeah, if you actually could stop, maybe he could, too. But…

“We wouldn’t stop smoking weed, you know,” you added, cutting off his thoughts. “Just cut out the cancer sticks.”

“It won’t be as easy for me,” he said, sighing defeatedly. “I, uh, I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“You always doubt your own strength, I swear.” You shook your head. “You’re so smart but so, so stupid sometimes. I say that affectionately, by the way.”

Before Eddie could think about some witty comeback, he heard the sound of the next song starting. It was different from your usual genres. It was the picking of a guitar, all folky and twangy and…

Country.

“What is this?” he asked, eyeing you.

You smirked, cranking the volume up as you started singing along.

         “Well, I was raised up beneath the shade of a Georgia Pine

         and that’s home, you know

         Sweet tea, pecan pie, and homemade wine

         where the peaches grow."

Eddie groaned. “Dude, what the fuck is this?”

You merely shook your head, your tone as playful as your expression. “It’s Zac Brown Band, god dammit! Show some respect.”

He was struck by your Southern accent popping up out of seemingly nowhere. And before he could even remotely process that or protest again, you cleared your throat and started screaming.

Not singing. Screaming.

         “A LITTLE BIT OF CHICKEN FRIED

         A COLD BEER ON A FRIDAY NIGHT

         A PAIR OF JEANS THAT FIT JUST RIGHT

         AND THE RADIO UUUUUUP!”

“Please turn it off,” Eddie pleaded, dragging his hands down his face. “I think you’re killing me.”

“Nope,” you said simply. “My car, my music. It’s the least you can do when we’re stuck on this highway and you’re refusing to quit smoking without even trying.”

“Oh, come on,” Eddie huffed. “Like it’s that fucking easy.”

“Have you ever tried to stop smoking?”

Eddie thought about it for two, maybe three seconds before feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

There had never been a singular thought given to the idea of quitting. Not once. Smoking was just something he did. There wasn’t much else to it. No secret shame or guilt. No bargaining or grief. No, it was just something he did.

“No,” he admitted, avoiding your eyes. 

“At least think about it, okay?”

Eddie nodded before glancing back at you. You continued humming along to the god awful song and tapped the steering wheel, as pretty as ever. And he was surely in love with you. Really, he was. But he thought he was going to explode from how much he hated this song. It wasn’t just the sound, but the lyrics and how you knew every single one.

If he didn’t want a cigarette before, he surely wanted one now.

By the time the bridge hit, you cleared your throat, straightened your posture, and threw up a salute.

Eddie stared at you like you were crazy. “What the—”

         “I thank God for my life!

         And for stars and stripes

         May freedom forever fly, let it riiiiiiing.”

“Oh, I swear to god. I’m losing my mind.”

         “Salute the ones who died

         The ones that give their lives

         So we don’t have to sacrifice

         all the things we looooooooooove.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie decided to throw up a quick salute himself. “Aye, aye, boys. Yes, okay,” he sighed. “Can we please change it?”

You nodded then and Eddie was severely grateful to hear the beginning notes to “Rebel Girl” by Bikini Kill.

Thank god.

But you didn’t let up. “You can’t just live in the South for three years and not listen to at least one country song.”

“I did a reaaaally good job up until now.” That made you laugh. “I didn’t know you listened to country.”

“I contain multitudes, Eddie. Multitudes. Layers. Like an onion.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s in my blood. Don’t hate on country music just ‘cause you don’t get it. There’s more out there than just jeans, beer, girls, and tractors.”

“Don’t forget trucks.”

You snorted before exaggerating your accent. “Yeah, and I’ll run you over with one, boy.”

Despite his frustration at the grating music, Eddie stopped itching for a cigarette. No, the desire had disappeared entirely. He was looking at you, all giggles and lighthearted apologies, and couldn’t help but laugh along at how utterly goofy the encounter was.

And once he took a second to think about it, he realized that your accent had bled through the entire song. Your sweet little Southern accent that rarely popped out had been on full display for him and only him. That paired with your eyeliner and your spikes and your lips and your everything. It was…cute. Like, very cute.

You were always just so genuine. It was in the way you just fucking cared about things. How you just wanted to try and how it made him want to try, too. You always knew there was more inside of him than even he knew. How you did it, he couldn’t say.

It was hard to say no to you.

It was hard not to love you.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Let’s do it.”

You gawked at him, rapidly flicking your head back and forth from him to the road as traffic began to finally pick up.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And like every addiction, the first week was the hardest.

If Eddie was sitting, his legs were bouncing. If he had a moment to spare, he was drinking coffee and scarfing Red Vines. Kept a toothpick in his mouth as if it would do anything. Frustration ran down his limbs in shivers that turned into unprovoked anger. It was fucking killing him.

You weren’t doing too hot either. When you called, you complained about a sore jaw from the three packs of wintermint gum you’d gone through. Bitten cheeks and lips. Irritation from anything and everything that came across your path.

So, when you saw each other that weekend, Eddie said flat out, “I don’t wanna quit anymore.”

You dropped your scrubber back into the sink, turning your head to gawk at him in shock. Mouth wide open, showing off a pitiful piece of gum you’d been chewing on for maybe two hours.

“What?”

Eddie shrugged, suddenly intimidated by your gaze. “Don’t you think this is, I don’t know, too much?”

“Too much?” you asked, voice hardening.

“Yeah.”

“Eddie, you haven’t even tried yet.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, that incessant frustration rising up his chest and into his mouth. “I have and it’s not working.”

“You have not!” you argued, placing your hands on your hips. “It’s been a week and, yeah, this is fucking hard. But it’s just temporary. Robin said it takes at least a week or longer for it to, like, detox. Probably longer for us.”

Barking out a bitter laugh, Eddie challenged you. “What if I don’t care what Robin thinks?”

“Then you’re giving up and you’ll spend the next however many years killing your lungs because it was hard for a week.”

“You’re one to talk! You’ve smoked for the same amount of time as me.”

“And yet I’m still fighting for it.”

He watched your chewing seemingly turn aggressive, knowing that you were disappointed in him. And it was actually hurting. 

That first flare of guilt hit him then. 

“Why do you want me to quit so bad?” he wondered.

“Because I know you can do it!” you exclaimed. “This shit sucks, Eddie. I’m literally gonna lose my mind some time soon. But it’s not forever.” 

He rolled his eyes. But he realized it was most definitely a mistake when you stepped forward and put a finger to his chest, eyes locked on yours as your breath seemingly washed over his neck.

“Because after everything I know about you, your past, I know you wouldn’t be here right now if you were someone who gave up. If you didn’t fight just to try to have a better life.” Eddie stayed silent, watching your eyes grow soft. “And if you can get through all of that other shit, you sure as hell can quit smoking cigarettes.”

In that moment, Eddie couldn’t help but love you that much more. You were a challenger, a pusher. But it wasn’t unjustified and it wasn’t excessive. No, you were just a force to be reckoned with. When you knew something to be true, you hardly let up. Some called it stubbornness, but Eddie knew it to be determination.

Oh god, how he loved that about you. How you told him what to do and pushed him to do better.

And, oh god, did he have to try his hardest to stop getting a tiny bit hard thinking about it. This was not the time.

“Fine, I’ll keep trying.”

Your shoulders slumped, clearly exhausted from your argument. Leaned your head on his shoulder and heaved a sigh before stepping back.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll try. But don’t expect me to stop complaining about it.”

“As if I won’t. Hell, I’ll go first. Having an oral fixation sucks,” you admitted. 

Eddie’s eyes immediately went to your lips. And, Jesus, even all bitten up and cracked, he wanted nothing more than to kiss you. To call this argument to a close by throwing you up against a wall and devouring you until this bout of irritation dissipated from your bones.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You’re telling me.”

He could’ve sworn your eyes flickered to his, your own lips nearly quirking up into a smirk. And, fuck, did it seem like you were chest-to-chest, all sidled up and ready for the next fight.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked.

“Like what, Weirdo?” he deflected, unable to keep himself from leaning in just a little bit further.

You pressed a finger into his dimples. “Like that.”

What, like I want to kiss you silly and massage your cheeks and then kiss you again and take that gum out of your mouth and make it mine and be gross and stupid? Like I want to say I’m sorry by taking you in this kitchen right now? Like I’m going to lose my mind from how much I fucking love you?

Eddie took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Took a step back.

“I think I’m going crazy.”

“Come on,” you said with a smile. “Let’s go get Taco Bell.”

He smiled back, feeling the heat start to subside from his face. And, most importantly, his dick. 

“I could always use a Baja Blast.”

Things weren’t so bad after that first month. Or the second. Or the third.

And by the time you guys hit the six month mark, Eddie didn’t even crave it anymore. If anything, he couldn’t believe how much better his mood was. His chest felt lighter. Head clearer. 

For once, life felt good without a cigarette.

He noticed the same in you, how smiley you were at any given moment. No need to duck out to get a quick smoke in or beg for one after a crying spell. It was like a weight was lifted off of you. He couldn’t believe that such a small thing made up of tobacco, paper, and cotton could have such a big impact on, well, everything.

In the past, you were always looking forward to a cigarette. So, the two of you devised a plan. Every week or every other week, you and Eddie would go to Jailbait Hemp and try out a new product. Split the cost. Go find something to do. Just let loose and see where the day took you.

Today you were at Piedmont Park, passing a joint back and forth as people filtered in and out. You were lying on your backs, a blanket beneath your figures. Both barely able to see each other through the blinding sun because, predictably, no thought to grab your sunglasses. 

“We should try that THC syrup next Thursday,” you suggested.

Eddie turned his head, squinting back at you in the sun’s glare. Tried to see your pretty face the best he could. Sneaked another glance at how breathtaking you were in your sundress.

“Oh, yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah, why not?”

Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

“Where do you wanna go to try it out?”

Summer lasted longer in the South. You’d have the Georgia heat to yourselves until mid-October. Eddie had no idea what you’d do until then. Drink, laugh. Play games, go to karaoke. Work.

Maybe things could change. Maybe he’d even get the courage to ask you out one of these days. It was funny what one could do with all of the money they once set aside for packs of cigarettes.

It was July and Eddie was in love. Had been for nearly four years. 

And some part of him knew as he watched you search the clouds that he’d continue to fall harder every single day. 

He knew exactly where to take you next week.

“No clue,” he lied, smiling to himself. “But it’ll be a damn good time.”

[yurimother]

'Whisper Me a Love Song' Anime Adaptation Teaser Released; Additional Cast Revealed

On Friday, a teaser promotional video for the upcoming television anime adaptation of Eku Takeshima's Whisper Me a Love Song (Sasayaku You ni Koi o Utau) was uploaded to the anime's official website and YouTube. The teaser features lead voice actresses Hana Shimano and Asami Seta in their roles as Himari and Yori, respectively.

The anime is set to premiere in January 2024. It is the directorial debut of Xin Ya Cai, who previously directed episodes of The Genius Prince's Guide to Raising a Nation Out of Debt, Lapis Re:LiGHTs and served as assistant director of Starlight Promise. It is animated at studio Cloud Hearts (The Iceblade Sorcerer Shall Rule the World) with production supervision by Tokohama Animation Lab.

Additional staff includes script supervisor Hiroki Uchida and character designer Minami Yoshida.

On March 17, a post on the anime's website announced other cast members who will appear alongside Hana Shimano and Asami Seta in the anime. They include:

Mikako Komatsu as Aki Mizuguchi

Konomi Kohara as Mari Tsutsui

Ai Kakuma as Kaori Tachibana

Yuna Nemoto as Shiho Izumi

Whisper Me a Love Song is a high school Yuri romance manga following energetic first-year Himari. During the welcoming celebration for new students, Himari hears Yori's band perform and instantly falls in love with her singing. When she has the opportunity to meet Yori, Himari instantly confesses her love, and to her surprise, Yori says she loves her back! But soon, both girls realize they are experiencing different kinds of love and begin to explore their true feelings for each other and what they might mean.

The anime is based on the manga of the same name by Eku Takashima, which has been serialized in Comic Yuri Hime since April 2019. Kodansha USA publishes the manga in English and is set to release the seventh volume this June.

You can and look forward to the anime adaptation of Whisper Me a Love Song next year and check out the original manga today digitally and in paperback: https://amzn.to/3z7D3BT

Reading official releases helps support creators and publishers. YuriMother makes a small affiliate commission from sales to help fund future coverage.

[macatt4c]

and so we meet again (chp. 1)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Mizu/Original Female Character

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Bisexual Mizu, Second Chances, Abijah Fowler is Mizu's Father, Fluff and Angst, Past Mizu/Mikio

Word Count: 1,921

-> [AO3 LINK] <-

If there was a journalist tasked with studying the daily life of Mizu Nanase, they would quickly lose interest and beg their boss for a different job.

At least, that’s what Mizu believes would happen.

If you were to ask the blue-eyed Tokyo resident, she would tell you that her life was as far from interesting as it can get; she had few friends, rarely went out at night, and kept a strict workout regimen. While other 24-year-old women in the city would be out clubbing and meeting men, Mizu was in bed by nine o’clock and woke just before dawn every day to go for her daily run before work. She was an average salary-woman with an average office job, working her average nine-to-five shift before heading straight home to the two-bedroom apartment she shared with her roommate, a sweet college student named Kinuyo. To any outside perspective, this life seemed lonely, and it was, but Mizu wouldn’t admit it. She had spent many years convincing herself that she could find comfort and contentment in solitude, to keep a minimal life and focus on maintaining what she had in the current time instead of trying to cultivate relationships that would ultimately fall apart. 

This mindset was more than understandable for someone who had the track record of relationships that she did.

It was an average Friday night for the blue-eyed woman when it happened. She had been thoughtlessly switching through television channels, dressed in lounge pants with a convenience store beer in her other hand, when she felt the vibration of her phone from where it sat on the couch cushion beside her. Mizu paused her channel-surfing on some Western history documentary before glancing down at the lit-up screen. It was a notification from Instagram, a social media app Mizu really didn’t use but kept at the insistence of her friend Akemi. The pop-up itself wasn’t to indicate a new message or a new post from one of the few accounts she followed, but one of those “you might know this person” messages. Mizu had been getting those more often than direct messages, which spoke volumes to how reclusive she was to the friends she did have rather than the friends she could have. Deciding to humor the app’s algorithm, Mizu picked up her phone and tapped on the notification, allowing the app to open itself. She was expecting this potential acquaintance to be one of Akemi’s exes or even one of the handful of childhood peers who tormented her in middle school, now acting like self-made entrepreneurs or social media models.

But the person Instagram actually did recommend was a shock that was almost enough to make her drop her beer.

The account being displayed on Mizu’s phone screen was that of a blonde Asian woman. Her profile picture was that of what Mizu clocked as the Golden Gate Bridge in California, a key sign that all but confirmed her assumption on the woman. It wasn’t until she scanned the first three photos on the account that her conviction became even stronger. 

Blonde hair.

Upturned brown eyes.

A beauty mark just under the left corner of her bottom lip.

Oh, and the name on the account?

Kane Akiyama.

Mizu practically shot herself out of her seat, haphazardly placing her beer on the coffee table, before beginning to pace the room, now scrolling through the rest of the photos on Kane’s account. For an account with less than 500 followers, Kane did seem to post frequently; selfies, candid shots of wherever she was, food pics, group snapshots of her family, even a video here and there of her playing the guitar. With every post Mizu went through, the more and more the feeling of her heart pounding in her throat made her want to vomit or cry or both.

It was her.

It was her Kane.

The last time Mizu Fowler and Kane Akiyama saw each other was a hot August evening. The two girls, barely thirteen at the time, had spent the entire day together, doing anything and everything under the blazing sun. But at that moment, the sun was descending, an indication that their day of fun was coming to a close. But of course, that day was the best and worst day of that summer, as Mizu recollected how Kane cried the entire walk back to their neighborhood. A month prior to that day, Kane had broken the news to Mizu that her family would be moving overseas to America due to her mother getting a job transfer, a piece of news that seemed to break Mizu’s heart in an instant. So that prominent day was the last day the two friends would ever see each other again. After that day, Mizu spent the rest of the summer locked away in her room, refusing to go out or see any of her other friends. She went on to attend high school, something that became so much harder without her best friend to be there at her side. She was ridiculed for her mixed race heritage, shoved into walls and being subjected to desk graffiti and thermoses being emptied on her. It was a miracle she made it to graduation. Maybe she was holding onto the hope that she would one day be reunited with Kane?

Well, it sure seemed like it now.

A feeling of hesitance came over Mizu as her thumb hovered over the ‘follow’ button. Should she do it? It would be good to reconnect with someone she once held so dear and close to her heart. Kane was her closest friend for a long time before she moved away. What if America changed her? Well, it had been eleven years since they last saw each other, it would make sense that Kane wasn’t the same from middle school. But how much has America changed her? Did it change her for the worse? Was she a bad person and nothing like the girl Mizu once knew? Did she even want to reconnect? But if she did, how would Mizu know until she reached out?

Suddenly, her phone began to vibrate as an incoming call was displayed on the screen. The familiar face of Akemi took the place of Kane’s Instagram account. Akemi Tokunobu was a girl from a wealthy family back in Mizu’s hometown of Kyoto. The two women met three years prior, through Taigen, an old classmate of Mizu’s who had been pursuing Akemi behind her family’s back. Miu first found Akemi spoiled and arrogant, but over time the two of them became rather close. Akemi was the only other female friend (besides Kinuyo) Mizu has made since Kane left that fateful summer and it wasn’t long into the friendship that the two of them formed a bond closer to sisters than just friends. If there was one person Mizu tried to keep in constant contact with, it was Akemi.

It didn’t take long for Mizu to accept the call and raise the phone to her ear. “Akemi?”

“Hey, Mizu!” The cheery sound of Akemi’s voice came over the speaker. “Look, I know you said you aren’t really a club girl, but there is this one cocktail bar that opened in Kabukicho and I think you’d really like it. I took Taigen last weekend and-”

“I found her.” Mizu blurted out, cutting Akemi off completely.

There was a pause before Akemi spoke again. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I found her.” Mizu repeated. “Kane. My old friend from school.”

“The blonde girl you were in love with?”

Mizu’s face turned an instant red at the question. “She was my friend, Akemi.”

“Yes, your friend that you pinned for pathetically.”

“Akemi.”

“Sorry, sorry. So you found her. Is she in town or…?”

“No, I found her Instagram account. The app suggested it to me, believe it or not.”

“Huh.”

“What do you mean, ‘huh’?”

“Well, maybe Instagram realized that you have literally no social life and decided to reconnect you with the last person you were happiest with?”

Now Mizu’s face had to be the color of a cherry. “Are you bullying me?”

“Oh, absolutely. We haven’t talked for a hot minute so I have to make up for lost time.”

“Real funny, Akemi.”

“I try my best.”

Mizu let out a groan of frustration. “Anyways, I found her account. Should I follow her?”

“Do you not want to follow her?”

“I mean… I would like to reconnect with her.”

“Okay, so follow her and send her a message.”

“Wouldn’t that be too much?”

“....you just said you wanted to reconnect with her.”

“Yes, I do.”

“How else would you be able to reconnect with her, Mizu?”

Mizu paused, thinking for a few moments. “I… I think I still have her mother’s email address.”

“You have her mom’s email? My god, are you twenty-four or fifty-four? Who sends emails anymore?”

“Okay, okay!” Mizu exclaimed. “I won’t send her mom an email. I should send her a message?”

“Yes, and make sure you tell her who you are and that you want to reconnect. Nothing too lengthy, just short and to the point.”

“Alright.”

“And I know you don’t use Instagram, so if she wants to reconnect, make sure to give her a social media account you do use. Or at least your username on WhatsApp.”

“Yeah, alright. Okay, I can do that.”

“Okay, cool. So, I take it you don’t want to go out tonight?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, while I’m still in town, do you want to at least get something to eat near your place?”

“Yeah… Yeah, that would be fine.”

“Wonderful. I’ll be at your building in ten minutes. Please don’t come down in your pajamas this time, okay?”

Mizu huffed. “It’s just dinner between friends, Kemi.”

“Yes, but it’s dinner with me. You need to be presentable in case anyone sees me and snaps a picture. Don’t need to have any dating speculations between us.”

“Right, you already have enough of those with Taigen.”

“Very funny, Mizu. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Bye.”

As soon as the call ended, the sight of Kane’s Instagram account returned on screen. Once again, Mizu found herself hesitating. Akemi was right, though. How else was she supposed to reconnect with someone if she didn’t reach out to them? And if Kane didn’t want to reconnect, she would ignore the message or simply say so. There was no harm in this.

And so, after taking a deep breath to center her nerves, Mizu tapped the ‘follow’ button.

She then tapped the ‘message’ button and, after a few minutes of typing and deleting and typing again, she came up with a good enough sounding message;

Hello Kane. You may not remember me, but I am Mizu Fowler. We went to middle school together and were best friends for a while before you moved to America. I came across your account thanks to Instagram’s suggestion and I thought it would be great if we reconnected. If you do not wish to, I completely understand. I hope that you are healthy and happy, wherever you are. 

After rereading it a couple of times, Mizu finally tapped the arrow button, sending the message. She then immediately locked her phone and placed it on the kitchen counter so she could start getting ready for her dinner plans with Akemi. It was another seven minutes before the phone vibrated, this time with a message displayed on the screen:

Holy shit.

[fellthemarvelous]

The Small Back Room - Maggie's Record Shop (unhinged meta no one asked for, part 1)

I'm going to cover these in two separate posts because there are a lot. This post is going to be dedicated to the artists with multiple covers in Maggie's shop.

*This is all bonus content from The Arrival (2x1).

What is the purpose of the record shop? It's called The Small Back Room, and it's connected to Aziraphale's bookshop. And a small back room seems like a place someone would store their records.

"If I owned a record shop, I'd be more concerned about people breaking in and leaving more records behind." - Nina

And someone left more records behind. Records of "Every Day".

Aziraphale hears Gabriel sing a human song that Aziraphale is unfamiliar with, so he goes to the record shop to ask Maggie, who actually has way too many copies of "Every Day" because of a pub in Edinburgh, the place with the cemetery that has the statue of Gabriel.

There is more to it though. The pub called the Resurrectionist that plays "Every Day" over and over on the jukebox (and somewhere in America John Mulaney is cackling like a madman) now has direct ties with Aziraphale's personal life because they ended up in Maggie's record shop.

The place where they met Elspeth and Wee Morag, Mr. Dalrymple, messed with dead bodies, and where Crowley saved one woman's soul from Hell.

We heard one passage from Aziraphale's diary, and it was about the time he and Crowley went to Edinburgh that started off with them looking at the statue of Gabriel.

We know Aziraphale has more than 600 volumes of personal written history (as of 1827).

Where is he going to store records of his life on Earth? A record shop that no one other than him visits, attached to the building he owns.

The walls lined with record covers that are telling stories. Clues as to where the story is going to take us? Could they be Aziraphale's diaries or other important records Aziraphale has kept for thousands of years?

And is anyone else concerned about "Come on Over to Our Third Floor Apartment" or is that just me? Heaven is the third floor when you look at the button arrangements on the lift. ⬆️⬆️ ⬇️⬇️

Oslo Revival 1. Come on Over to Our Third Floor Apartment (We're Having a Party / Just for You / Four in a Bed / Have This Drink / It Doesn't Taste Weird / We'll Take Care of You / We Love You / You're One of Us Now / Together Forever) 2. Disguises (Carol and Her Hat / The Bicycle / Memories of a Windchime / Lunch / Who Am I Today? / Make Me Cry / Peggy Asked for Her Jumper Back) 3. It's Raining in My Kitchen (You Cast a Spell on My Wife / Running into Danger / Transcending the Patriarchy / Plumbing / A Dozen Eggs, (Too Many) / Someone New in the Bedroom) 4. Better Together

Kubasulu 1. Great White Lies (Fishy Business / Fluent in Shark-asm / Vanish into Fin-air / Gettin' Chummy / You're Gill-ty / No-fin Left to Lose / I Chews You) 2. Sweating in the City

Rat Keith 1. Look at This Mountain (The Mountain I Climbed / Assorted Wailing Chants of Peril / I Ate Some Berries (Shouldn't Have Done That) / What Happens on the Mountain, Stays on the Mountain / I See It in My Dreams / Soiled Leaves and Soft Bark / Don't Touch the Mushrooms / Huddle for Warmth / My Map Blew Away / This is My Home Now / Finally Rescued) 2. A Dog in God's Hot Car 3. Chem Trails

Raga Koboj 1. Raga Koboj 2. Earth, Swallow Me Whole (Why Can I Just Stay in Bed? / Sighing Loudly / No One's Going to Lunch / I'm Hungry But I Don't Want to Eat Alone / I Wonder What's on the Menu Today / Probably Something Mediocre / I'm Tired / It's Friday / I Wish It Would End) 3. Just Sounds 2.0 (Falling Coin / Stubbed Toe / Oops! / Rice in a Bowl / Spoon Clang / Gagging / Crinkled Paper / Bad Alphabet / Winded)

Deaf Dust 1. Change the Lightbulb (Cartwheels in Mexico / The cinnamon candle / Hold Me / Let Go / Who wait's for us? / Awesome / The basement's pretty dark / Broken Bulb / Stairway to your Mum's house) 2. Snapshots from the Moon

Randa Ransom 1. Doin' it in the Dust (Hard on the Rocks / Ridin' the Horizon / Tall Drink of Water / Wear My Hat / Call My Name / Let Me Use a Saddle / Just Us in the Dust) 2. I'm Lost and I Don't Speak the Language (Lost in Tokyo / WHat's that shop selling? / Sex Dolls (Self-Assembly) / Where's the Bathroom? / This Toilet is Singing / More Sex Dolls / There's a Cafe for Cats / I Want to Go Home / What's Home in Japanese? / Take Me Anywhere Taxi Man) 3. The Answer May Surprise You

Georgina O'Georgia 1. Gorgeous in Georgia ("Oh, George You're Gorgeous" / "It's Georgia with a G!" / "Get your hands off my hair" / "Yes, that's my real name") 2. Spur of the Moment

CT Bazz 1. Locking Up & Looking Down 2. Dank Balaclava

I've never seen anyone talk about these though, but they seem important. Have I missed conversation surrounding these? I'm just really curious as to what other people might think.

As I said above, there is a part two, but that part will cover artists with only one cover.

[sooverwhitesandpinks]

Wish You Were Sober Part 2

fbh x bestfriend!reader Warnings: hurt/comfort, none really, fem reader

Part 1

You hadn't seen Harry since Friday night, and you would call it a testament to your avoiding capabilities. He texted you Saturday afternoon when he woke up. You knew he probably wouldn't remember the conversation from the night before, but you found yourself hoping he did anyway.

H☀️: breakfast?

You quickly typed an excuse about having to work on some huge project that didn't actually exist. Sunday went similarly, Harry texted you a few times asking you to take a break from your work and hang out, you reluctantly declined each time.

"He's relentless," you groaned, staring at the messages Harry had sent you so far. He'd gotten into the habit of sending you funny pictures and his random thoughts throughout the day.

"Well it's not like you're ghosting a Tinder date. You guys are best friends. You've seen him at least once a day for the past three months," Gianna reasoned, looking up from her laptop.

"But I've been short with him for days now," you told her, falling backward onto your mattress.

"I think you should just talk to him," she shrugged.

"Or I could just avoid him," you suggest, running a hand down your face.

"Until May? It's only October," she said, still typing away. You rolled onto your side to face her half of the room.

"I've avoided him for this long," you replied.

"Babe, it's Wednesday," she laughed. You groaned just as your phone dinged again. You glanced down to see another message from Harry, this time inviting you to a party Friday night.

"He just invited me to another party Friday," you announced.

"Tell him no," Gianna urged. You sighed before typing a response.

probably not this time sorry.

Only a few seconds passed before your phone dinged again.

H☀️: Are you avoiding me?

"Gianna, he just asked if I'm avoiding him," you looked up at your roommate.

"You should say yes," she laughed.

"This is serious, what do I tell him?" You shrieked.

"I don't know, I don't have a handbook on how to avoid your best friend," she responded.

"I'm just gonna ignore it, I'll answer him later," you turned your phone off.

Almost immediately, four sharp knocks rang through the room. You looked up at Gianna with furrowed brows. She hopped down from her bed and approached the door. She ducked down to look through the peephole.

"It's Harry," she whispered.

"I'm not here," you whispered back. She rolled her eyes before she opened the door just far enough so that he wouldn't be able to peek in.

"Hey, Harry, she's not here," Gianna greeted.

"Is she avoiding me?" He asked. You felt a tug at your heart strings, the poor kid sounded confused. You knew it was wrong to leave him in the dark, but you couldn't keep putting yourself in that situation.

"I think you should talk to her about it," Gianna answered after a beat of silence.

"It's kinda hard if she won't speak to me. I haven't seen her all week and she's barely answering my messages," he replied. You watched as your roommate adjusted her posture.

"Honestly, Harry, it's not my place to tell you. I do think she should talk to you, but I understand why she isn't," she told him.

"Fuck, okay. Do you know where she is?" He questioned.

"Not right now, she left a few hours ago," Gianna lied smoothly, or it would've been smoothly had your phone not dinged loudly again. You quickly turned the volume down.

"Is she in there?" He asked, you cursed silently before throwing a blanket over you face and body.

"No, that was mine," Gianna lied, less smoothly this time. You froze when you heard the door open further and Harry's footsteps as he neared your bed.

You closed your eyes tightly just before he grabbed the corner of the blanket, slowly peeling it back.

"Really?" He finally spoke. You forced your eyes open, not ready to face the consequences of your actions. It didn’t help that he looked so good, he was in one of his black hoodies. The hood was pulled over a hat that his curls were spilling out of on the sides.

"I'm actually doing homework in here, so take that shit to your room," Gianna stated as she hopped back up onto her bed.

You sat up, flipping your legs off the side of the bed. Harry held his hand out to help you down, you hated him for being so considerate when you're supposed to be upset with him. Down from the bed, you shoved your feet into your slippers, glaring at your roommate.

The short walk down the hall to Harry's room was silent, but not awkward. Even in the middle of whatever this is, he still made you so feel so comfortable in his presence. You hated that he was personified sunlight.

You stood behind him as he unlocked his room, his roommate out like always. He held the door open as you ducked under his arm, you walked to his bed and sat down on the edge. He followed you in, taking a seat in his desk chair a few feet in front of you.

"Um. I'm sorry for avoiding you, that wasn't fair," you started.

"Why did you?" He asked, eyes trained on your face while you looked anywhere but at him.

"Because I need to distance myself from you," you shrugged, looking down at your hands. You were already struggling not to breakdown and apologize. You had to hold your ground.

"Why? You're my best friend, y'know. You didn't think ghosting me would actually work, did you?" He asked, sounding frustrated.

"I don't know," you finally looked at him as you tried to find a way to explain without having to tell him how you feel. "I just, I'm tired of going out every weekend and dragging you back here drunk out of your mind."

"You ignored me because you don't like taking care of me when I'm drunk? That's bullshit. I can think of like a million ways to work around that," his brows furrowed.

"No, that's not- Harry I don't mind taking care of you," you responded. You knew you weren't making any sense and you felt guilty for clearly upsetting him. It was hard to explain what you meant.

"Then what is it? I need a real reason. You don't just get to ignore me all week with no valid explanation," he said.

"It's not you drinking, Harry, I don't care about that. It's all the other stuff," you tried to explain. You were growing more upset about your own inability to communicate. It would be so much simpler to just tell him how you feel.

"Hey," he said, scooting his chair closer until you were knee to knee. "Did I do or say something Friday night? I don't remember much after leaving the party, just bits and pieces of the walk back.

"You tried to get me to have sex with you," you admitted.

"I did? Jesus Christ," he breathed. "I'm sorry, you don't deserve that."

"It's fine. Well, it's not fine, but I'm used to it," you said, backtracking when you found yourself excusing his actions.

"You're used to it?" He asked. You cursed yourself internally, dropping your head into your hands.

"No, I didn't mean to say that," you shook your head, still face down in your palm.

"Please explain."

You hesitated before answering, praying this conversation would be over. You felt Harry's hand tugging at your wrist, forcing you to look at him.

"That's not the first time it's happened. But it's okay, you were drunk and you never tried to force me or anything. It's really only an issue 'cause I'm-" you stopped yourself.

"'Cause you're what?" He asked, his chest rising a little faster as his breaths quickened. You paused. Fuck it. No way we're going back now.

"I'm tired of you playing with my feelings," You finally admitted. "I know you aren't doing it on purpose. You're a touchy friend and I love that about you, but I fell for it, so now it's just really hard to watch you gallivant with a new girl every weekend. And I feel bad for ignoring you, Harry, really I do. But it hurts that you only think of me in that way when you're too hammered to find anyone else and I can't keep signing myself up for it every weekend."

You finished your worked up confession just as you felt tears start pooling in your waterline. You wanted to hide in your hands again, but Harry still had a hold on your wrist. You tried blinking them away as you turned your gaze to him. He looked like he was still processing everything you said.

"You fell for it?" He finally spoke. You shrugged at him, not sure what to say. "What do you mean?"

"Oh my- Harry. I love you a lot, and not in a friend way. Like I'm in love with you. I'm sorry. All your charming bullshit worked on me," you laid it all out.

"You love me?" He asked, seemingly still processing. He moved from the chair, sitting down on the bed beside you.

"It's kinda hard not to. You've treated me like a girlfriend for months, and I was okay to be that for you. I'm fine with constantly hanging out and cuddling and watching movies and whatnot," you took a second to breathe. "But then we go out and I see you with all of these girls and it hurts that you only think of me that way when you're drunk."

You finished rambling, leaving the room eerily quiet. You felt a few tears start to fall, glad that Harry moved and was no longer facing you. He didn't talk for a second, the first sound to break the silence was a sniffle from you. Harry's arm looped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. That was all it took for your restraint to exit the room and your tears to fall faster. You let yourself be comforted by the only person that could make you feel better, ironically the same person that hurt you.

He leaned backward slowly, the two of you falling into his bed. You laid against his side, one of his arms wrapping loosely around you while the other ran through his hair.

"You're right. It's not fair to you," he finally spoke, pulling you in tighter. He let you cry for awhile, just holding you.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, though the sound was slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"It's not your fault,” he hummed. “You were wrong though, I'm not a flirty friend.”

"Yeah, right," you scoffed. You looked up at him, his eyes already set on you.

"I'm serious, I've only ever been that way with you. You're making me realize that I've been playing with your feelings for while."

"You weren't doing it on purpose," you sighed, sniffling as your tears slowed.

"Not deliberately no. But I think I was doing it on purpose, in a way," he said.

"What do you mean?" You asked, confusedly. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbow. You looked down at him, his head against a pillow.

"I think I was too scared to think about how madly in love with you I am so I kept you close without admitting it," he explained, sounding like he was still sorting through his thoughts.

"You don't love me, Harry. Don't say that so I keep following you around forever, I can't do it," you shook your head.

"I'm serious," he said, looking you in the eye. "I know this is coming at a bad time."

"Then what was the point of a different sorority girl every week?" You asked.

"Distraction, maybe? I don't know. I only ever went home with you though," Harry shrugged.

"You gotta understand why I'm finding this hard to believe," you said.

"I get it. I didn't really start to realize it until you weren't around. We spend a lot of time together," he smiled softly at you. You cursed yourself when you felt your heart melt at the sight of him.

"Are you sure, H? Don't say shit like that just to say it. I'm trying really hard to be vulnerable right now," you shook your head at him. He mirrored your actions, adjusting himself so he could slide his hands up to your cheeks.

"I'm one hundred percent sure that I'm just as in love with you as you are with me," he gently moved your head while he spoke. A hesitant smile spread across your face as you looked at him. He seemed just as genuine as he always did.

"Okay," you replied simply, nodding as best as you could with Harry's hold on your face.

"Okay," he nodded back with a grin, pushing your cheeks together. He tugged your face down slowly. Your eyes closed as his lips met your pouted ones. You pulled away slightly, your hand coming to rest on his chest.

"Why didn't you say any of that before I started crying?"

"You just looked so pretty," he answered with another dimply grin.

Masterlist

Thanks so much for the support on Part 1!!! 🫶🫶🫶

[yourjughead]

Fighting Ex's pt 1

Sweet Pea X clumsy shy Reader

Synopsis: Sweet Pea wants to drag you out of your shell. When you take his side in an argument with your ex boyfriend, a trip to the Wyrm brings you outwards

Fluff

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

You drifted through the halls Friday morning, keeping your head down and pace quick, the usual, only this morning your tracks were interrupted by the gaggle of Serpents arriving. They flooded the hallways in true Southside style, loud and unapologetic. They had been here for some time now but their presence was still notable.

You crinkled your face as you struggled to get the locker door to give way. Its rusty hinges allowed access with your force, your hand slipping, sending your balance alongside it. Your hips met the ground square from behind as you felt every eye in the corridor land on you. As quick as you were on the ground you were up, sailing the top of your head right into the bottom of the locker. You cursed harshly in your mind, bringing a hand to the growing bump.

“Have you considered bubble wrapping yourself?” tension grew from your nerves at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You glanced quickly to the side to meet the Serpents eyes, wide and smiling at you. Sweet Pea and you had few interactions in the classes you both shared but his interest in you was growing more and more by the day. You knew little about one another, with one of you desperate for that to change.

“I…umm…maybe” you breathed out, shoving your gear bag into the metal casing and almost slamming the door closed again. Your palm quickly landed on the door trying to quiet the sound.

“That'll show it” Sweet Pea smiled again.

“YN! There you are! come on I have to tell you the drama, I-” Kevin came rushing to your side, cut off by Sweet Peas presence.

“Keller's kid right? Go on then, I like to hear the drama too” his eyebrows raised, Kevin only side eyeing him before hooking an arm in yours and pulling you away. You hesitantly looked back at Sweet Pea who just gave a wave with his fingertips before laughing and rejoining his cohort.

-

“Marry, Fuck, Kill, Serpent addition” the group laughed at Veronicas idea of a game when lunch time came around.

“Don't be crass Veronica, they're like my siblings now” Jughead winced at the thought of the outcome of these answers.

“I don't care, don't play then. Kevin, which of those three over there are you marrying” Veronica pointed a long manicured finger to where Fangs, Sweet Pea and another Serpent talked just outside the common room.

“I hate those guys” Reggie cut off Kevin before he could talk, Jughead rolling his eyes and going to their defence.

“If I could marry and fuck one of them I'd be happy, you've a free house tonight, maybe I'll get my chance there” Kevin whispered to you as the group volume raised over the premise of the game. You smiled, gently bumping him with your shoulder. Kevin had become one of your only really good friends, his own friends adopting you then by proxy. They never got much out of you, instead you just listened and made your own internal judgments of them, and there was a lot to judge them for.

Sweet Pea strided over with Fangs, both sitting on an arm of the chair Jughead occupied, silence falling on the group. This peace lasted all of two minutes, abruptly ending as Reggie and other Bulldogs decided to ruffle some Serpent skin. You quickly made your exit after seeing your ex boyfriend take the first swing.

On your way back to your locker after a long day of painful classes, you walked past Sweet Pea sat on a chair outside the principal's office, the halls almost empty. You looked briefly at the darkening bruising under his eye as you ambled past.

“I should have bubbled wrapped myself” he gave you a small grin, hoping to pull you into conversation.

“Yeah maybe” said with a little shrug in return. The principal's abrupt exit with Reggie from his office silenced you both. Reggie gave Sweet Pea a blood curdling stare, only to have the Serpent look back unfazed.

“Now you both say it was the other that threw the first punch and I have no way of-”

“YNN was there” Reggie cut the Principal off before he could finish. The three pairs of eyes all landing on you. The hairs on your neck stood on their ends, Sweet Pea pulling his gaze away, accepting his fate of another bad reputation at another school. You and Reggie dated breifi, he clearly was testing what loyalty was left between you both. You glanced between the three and gulped before answering honestly.

“Reggie threw the first punch Sir.” You looked down to your feet, Sweet Peas head snapping back in your direction in disbelief.

“What the fuck YNN?!”

“Reginald! Language! You can go-” he gestured to Sweet Pea who instantly stood up without hesitation “-and you Reginald, back in here with me”.

Sweet Pea sighed a breath of relief as the two re-entered the Principal's office, he turned to thank you but you had taken off up the hallway, by passing your locker and out through the exit.

“Hey hey wait up YN” He easily met your side with his long stride, you nodded in reply to him, almost frantically turning your head to watch your bus drive off without you.

“Thanks for that”

“Don't mention it”

“Seriously that was really cool of you”

“Seriously don't mention it” you kept your voice low, looking for anyone around familiar to you and landing your eyes on Kevin. Kevin who was with Fangs and heading in your guys direction both looking very cosy.

“What a difference a day makes” Sweet Pea joked earning a small smile from you.

“Not much of a talker no?” Fangs voiced prevented your own from answering Sweet Peas question.

“Sweet Pea, Sweet Peas Girl, come on we're going to the Wyrm with Kevin….and some other people but mostly Kevin-” Fangs winked at Sweet Pea “-...gotta show him-i mean them our world" Fangs was clearly gushing over Kevin and you and Sweet Pea thought it was adorable.

“Sounds good, yn?” You bit your lip and it was driving Sweet Pea crazy.

“I-I don't know” Kevin's eyes looked at you pleadingly, he couldn't very well go to the Southside alone.

“Ah come on YN, I owe you a drink after you saved my ass”

“Oh you told them the ex hit first, nice revenge YN” Kevin nudged you. A new energy came from Sweet Pea at this information.

“I-I guess I could go for awhile” you spoke before Sweet Pea could ask questions. His delight at your agreement sent them out of his mind.

“-Great, I'll take you on my bike, Kevin can go with Fangs-” the two had already began making strides towards the motorbike lock up “-and I can bring you home whenever you want then” he beckoned you to follow him over to where he'd parked earlier. You nodded smally being reassured with the presence of Kevin at Fangs side.

~

It was later that night and after a few drinks you began to relax into the atmosphere. Kevin stayed close to you as did Sweet Pea. The buzz of the bar bouncing off the walls surrounding the booth. It was nice to hear the stories from growing up in the Serpents, not nearly as horrible as all the rumours made it seem. Sweet Pea was enjoying seeing you outside of school and you were, to your own surprise, feeling the same about him. Drinks were free flowing as a party at the bar kicked off, leaving your brain feeling a bit groggy with the increasing volume of music.

You came back from the bathroom to find Sweet Pea in an empty booth.

“Umm?”

“Well Fangs is showing Kevin...the inside of the coat closet” he gestured to the far away cabinet on the other side of the dance floor.

“Want to dance?”

“I didn't take you for the dancing type Sweet Pea”

“Plenty you don't know about me YN” he stood, taking you by the hand and leading you to the crowded dance floor. He wasn't the dancing type. He was really really not coordinated but you didn't care. You were having fun being silly with him, the alcohol and his energy taking away any self consciousness you felt, a new world of feeling. The lights flickered the colour of the rainbow as the music climbed and climbed with volume, Serpents dancing letting loose, being young dumb and free, all feelings you regularly denied yourself. Then darkness

[battiethevampy]

while the new 2022 series is not accessible online outside of usa yet i tried to make a complete playlist of what is available on youtube for free

i tried to follow a story and chronological order so you should watch the movies when you see the trailers come up (i found them all uploaded on different streaming sites and it seems they are available in some countries on youtube too but not mine lol)

officially there are only 4 episodes of the new series at the moment - from second to fifth - i included them but know that the frist episode is missing except for a clip of clawdeen finding the school

the new music videos are also translated in some languages but if you want to listen to the original english (or any other language) you can change the dub in the video settings

hope this could be helpful for those like me who decided to start this series 13 years later! enjoy

Gen 1

New Ghoul at School

Volume 1

Volume 2

Special Webisodes

Fright On

Why Do Ghouls Fall in Love

Volume 3

Escape from Skull Shores

Friday Night Frights

Ghouls Rule!

Scaris, City of Frights

13 Wishes

Volume 4

Creature Creepers Adventures

Frights, Camera, Action!

Freaky Fusion

Volume 5

Haunted

Volume 6

Boo York, Boo York

Great Scarrier Reef

Scary Cool Ghouls (anime JP dub EN sub)

Gen 2

Welcome to Monster High

Meet the Ghouls

Electrified

Adventures of the Ghoul Squad

Gen 3

Monster High: The Movie

New Monster High Animated Series Season 1

Monster High Mysteries

Sparks & Spells Series

Music Videos

Monster High: The Movie 2

[wildbornsiren]

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw Master List (Top Gun: Maverick)

Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw

SFW Alphabet HC  Relationship/Personal. (Gender neutral reader.) NSFW Alphabet HC Sex/Relationship. (Gender neutral reader) [Explicit] After bird strike thoughts (delicate verse) @imjess-themess​ asked:  Do the events in your story take place after the timeline in the movie? I’m just wondering what Bradley’s thoughts were after the bird strike and what he did when learning Bob was okay.

Push  All you and Bradshaw really need is a push. Luckily the team is there to help you out. ( AFAB/Female Reader implied military job/ 1,127 words) [Adult: sexual imagery] Monday to Friday  It’s just a crush– on one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever met in your life. There’s no way he would ever return your feelings right? (2119 words female/AFAB reader. civilian contract working on base) [No Warnings]

Lace:  What happens behind closed doors, stays between the three of you. (1,335 words Female/AFAB reader.) Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Female Reader x Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. [Explicit: vaginal penetrative sex, cream pie, oral (female receiving), cum play, voyeurism, implied consent, threesome, Jake’s filthy mouth] Rise and Shine: It started as a one night stand and has become so much more. (Female/AFAB military aligned reader 6,790 total. 3/4 parts completed) [Explicit: unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), thigh riding, anal fingering, anal sex, dirty talk, creampie, internal ejaculation, cum play]                                                       Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || The Game: Rooster loses a game of pool. He bet Hangman a night with you. ( 5,654 words Female/AFAB reader.) Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. [Explicit: unprotected vaginal penetrative sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, cum play, voyeurism, threesome, restraints, breeding kink (if you squint), talk of birth control, sharing of partner, established relationship, anal fingering, anal sex]                                       || Part One || Part Two || Safe And Sound Roommates, Coworkers, Lovers. Hangman and Rooster make up so much of your world-- and you’d do anything to keep them safe. (Female/AFAB Reader military affiliation [search and rescue] 1,222 words part 1 of 3]                                   Part One ||

Idle Hands  The promise of not having to eat mess hall chow leads to consensual breaking and entering. Homemade pasta, white wine, and kisses. ( 1,439 words Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin/Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw) [No warnings] In Vain Jake loses a bet, and Bradley reassures. (678 words Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Jake “Hangman” Seresin) [No warnings] This is Not a Love Song What’s left unsaid speaks volumes (605 words Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Jake “Hangman” Seresin/Robert “Bob” Floyd) [angst, unrequited feelings]

Delicate. It’s a love story, but neither of them realize it. (8,663 words Robert “Bob” Floyd/Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw”) [Warnings: Pining, kissing, idiots falling for each other, oral sex, Bob has tattoos, anal sex, unprotected sex]                                                       Delicate

Kinktober 2022 Day 4: Airtight -- Robert 'Bob' Floyd/ Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw/Female-AFAB Reader/ Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace. Kinktober 2022 Day 9: Praise Kink -- Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Female-AFAB Reader Kinktober 2022 Day 15: Body Worship -- Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw/Female-AFAB Reader Kinktober 2022 Day 20  Double Penetration --Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw/ Female Reader-AFAB Reader/Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin Kinktober 2022 Day 24: Blindfold -- Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw/Female - AFAB Reader/Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd/Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin Kinktober 2022 Day 26: Uniform -- Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd/Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin/Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw Kinktober 2022 Day 28: Licking -- Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw/Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin (TGM) 12 Days of Fluffmas 2022  Day Four: Snowball fight -- Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Female-AFAB reader 12 Days of Fluffmas 2022  Day Nine: Snowed In -- Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Female-AFAB reader 3 Sentence AU   Floydsinshaw Superheroes AU  Robert “Bob” Floyd/Jake “Hangman” Seresin/Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw 3 Sentence AU  Floydshaw race car driver   Robert “Bob” Floyd/Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw 3 Sentence AU   Hangster Vampire Jake “Hangman” Seresin/Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw 3 Sentence AU   Soulmate AU Javy “Coyote” Machado/Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

A Place Called Home  For @callsign-phoenix ‘s 500 follower celebration!  ‘Don’t shut me out’.  Fed up with Bradley withdrawing, you take matters into your own hands. (563 words Female/ AFAB reader) [Warnings:  depression, social withdrawal, angst, soft ending] Shelly’s 1k Celebration: 3 Sentence AU Vampire AU Bradley “Rooster’ Bradshaw/Robert “Bob” Floyd. Shelly’s 1k Celebration: 3 Sentence AU Rooster/Reader Mosterverse Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/GN Reader Shelly’s 1k Celebration: 3 Sentence AU Greaser AU Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Robert “Bob” Floyd

For the TGM Fic Exchange:  Idle Hands  The promise of not having to eat mess hall chow leads to consensual breaking and entering. Homemade pasta, white wine, and kisses. (1,439 words Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin/Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw) [No warnings]

---- Banner Credit to @writercole

[dethkomic]

Writin' Comics and Junk: Part 5 - Point-of-View Within Comics

Welcome once again, pals! We're now on the third issue of our second volume of Dethkomic, and I'm really excited to share with everything that goes down in this one! If you haven't guessed that the pace won't be slowing any time soon, then I have bad news. Anyway..!

The next Dethkomic update will be Friday, June 2nd, 2023!

For this tutorial update, I thought I'd share a little bit about something a little on the abstract side as it pertains to writing and specifically, comic writing.

Storytelling in the pages of a graphical media like comics, as I've alluded to in previous updates, is a multifaceted thing with a lot of different angles to consider -- and I mean that pretty literally.

More on this, under the cut!

Putting the Pieces Together

Last time we met, I went over the various panel layouts that are commonly found in comics. Before that, I talked about studying movies, tv, and other visual media as a means of understanding direction and decision making in that area. Way before that, we touched on the differences between plot-driven and character-driven stories.

What I'm going to cover today, and into the next string of updates, sort of mashes everything together. So if you haven't yet, take a moment to at least scan over some of the entries that came before this one. Here's a handy guide:

Part 1 - Covering the basics of the character versus plot relationship and the differences between character-driven arcs and plot-driven ones.

Part 2 - Covering story beats and sketching your plot.

Part 3 - Covering Comic Composition (Part 1) - General comic panel layout and decision-making

Part 4 - Covering Comic Composition (Part 2) - Types of panels and further analysis of how they drive the story

Good on all that? Wonderful! Onto our topic, then!

So we know that in a very broad sense, most stories fall into the categories of character-driven or plot-driven. In comics, as it is in all stories, what makes something come off as important is based on what may seem like insignificant choices the author has made. These push the reader to notice, often subconsciously, that our perspective should be riding behind the eyes of one character, or standing a few feet behind a few characters, or way out into space as we take a look at the entire world...

Who or What is in the Driver's Seat?

If I was going to write a story from an omniscient point of view, I might phrase a paragraph like this:

Charles stood atop the bridge in Copenhagen, looking at the hard-won keycard in his hand. He didn't know it, but somewhere else in the city, a doctor was taking care of his partner.

And if I wanted to write something similar but framed from a limited perspective, it'd be more like:

Charles stood atop the bridge, his muscles aching from the fight they'd just endured. It was worth it, though. The keycard in his hand proved it. He could only hope his partner had also survived.

Again, broad example. Don't @ me because of my syntax, English majors - I know there are objective, omniscient and limited POVs and that they come in numerical "person" states, hehe.

These examples are all well and good for prose (Dethkomic: The Novel is not something I'll be pursuing, but if you want to take a crack at it, by all means, go nuts), and depending on how you'd been inspired to write the rest of the story, you'd probably follow one or the other method based on that, alone. But comics are a bit trickier. We definitely do have places where plot is driving the story, and times where characters are taking over... but you're not always sticking to just one.

Here may come my greatest point of controversy, then: If you're going to write comics, you're probably going to be doing some head-hopping.

Still with me? Very well, and I appreciate you hearing me out, despite typing something so sacrilegious.

Learning how to Write Good Head-Hopping

First, if you're not a prose fiction writer or are otherwise unfamiliar with what head-hopping is, then I suggest a primer over here. Next - Is the term "good head-hopping" an oxymoron? You can decide for yourself, but I really don't think so.

Many a story has been written that shows an author's mastery of their craft in seamless jumps from perspective-to-perspective. Many, many a comic has, too. Not trying to toot my own horn, here... but let's take a closer look at the flashback scene we were referencing in our prose exercise, from page 40 of Dethkomic:

The panels are all laid out as you saw them in the story, but I've color-coded the two different points of view. In the red panes, we're in Charles' head. In blue, we've entered Caj's. Did you notice the shift? If I was doing my job as an author, you might have, but it didn't kill your immersion. So how is that done?

It's all in the transition.

As we saw, the scene above could quite easily handled by an omniscient POV. Want to tell the audience what someone is doing, then in the very next sentence, reveal what someone on the other side of town is up to? No problem!

In a limited perspective, however, things get trickier. We're in Charles' head, and if we want to know what happened to Caj - he simply doesn't have that information, so the author's not going to be divulging much. We'll need to shift scenes, therefore, and that probably means ending the chapter.

In a comic, though? I can't always cut a scene on a brand-new page. Hell, I can't always cut a scene in the same panel! But regardless, I have to communicate to my audience that we are, in fact, moving away from Charles' perspective and into Caj's. Several things help to do this transition in a clean fashion:

First, I kinda leave you hanging on poor Charles. He doesn't get a resolution, as nobody picks up the phone. Still, we're left to understand that his part in the story has ended.

Second, we start the panel shift on a new line. You don't always have to do this (especially if you want it to be jarring) but it helps to cut the scene in two.

Third, we literally place the camera behind Caj's eyes as she wakes up. There are few things more effective at showing we are now going to see how things go down for one character above all others than literally getting in their head.

Again, there are other ways of doing this, but paying attention to how your "jumps" occur can make a big difference in the comfort your readers feel when, inevitably, you have to have one character tap out so that another can lead the reader around for a bit. We're lucky in visual media, since we can employ a few more tricks than the folks who only work in words and lines of text - but we also have to take extra precaution so as not to be more confusing than intended with our layouts. If I had missed a beat, and just moved over to Caj talking with the doctor, that would have been too quick. If I would have lingered on Charles, that too, might not have been as successful. It's a balance, and your instincts about storytelling won't steer you wrong.

I think I'll wrap this little lesson up, here. Next time, I want to talk about the other ways a story can be carried, but not by the characters - by the plot.

I hope you enjoyed these insights. I realize they are a bit more advanced than the things we've previously covered, and therefore, a little trickier to understand and employ. But, as it is with all things, being aware of the rules and putting in a little practice should be all you need to master them.

Join me soon! And remember, Dethkomic loves you!