#i already found one that is a color I'd want

[devotion-between-the-wheat]

during the summer, I tried to get into machine sewing, but because of a combo of being frustrated with learning the maintenance and the Depression™, I stopped.

but I am feeling better these days, so I'm thinking about trying again.

and I did get an idea for a project, aka recreating that silly cape/cloak lucifer has for his tsl outfit. but I don't really plan on wearing it, it's going to be kind of a makeshift blanket honestly.

alternatively I could straightup just make a blanket that is based off the cloak. that might work better tbh, but hmm. or a shawl perhaps, that could be good for colder months especially.

[swallowedabug]

[ms-demeanor]

Why reblog machine-generated art?

When I was ten years old I took a photography class where we developed black and white photos by projecting light on papers bathed in chemicals. If we wanted to change something in the image, we had to go through a gradual, arduous process called dodging and burning.

When I was fifteen years old I used photoshop for the first time, and I remember clicking on the clone tool or the blur tool and feeling like I was cheating.

When I was twenty eight I got my first smartphone. The phone could edit photos. A few taps with my thumb were enough to apply filters and change contrast and even spot correct. I was holding in my hand something more powerful than the huge light machines I'd first used to edit images.

When I was thirty six, just a few weeks ago, I took a photo class that used Lightroom Classic and again, it felt like cheating. It made me really understand how much the color profiles of popular web images I'd been seeing for years had been pumped and tweaked and layered with local edits to make something that, to my eyes, didn't much resemble photography. To me, photography is light on paper. It's what you capture in the lens. It's not automatic skin smoothing and a local filter to boost the sky. This reminded me a lot more of the photomanipulations my friend used to make on deviantart; layered things with unnatural colors that put wings on buildings or turned an eye into a swimming pool. It didn't remake the images to that extent, obviously, but it tipped into the uncanny valley. More real than real, more saturated more sharp and more present than the actual world my lens saw. And that was before I found the AI assisted filters and the tool that would identify the whole sky for you, picking pieces of it out from between leaves.

You know, it's funny, when people talk about artists who might lose their jobs to AI they don't talk about the people who have already had to move on from their photo editing work because of technology. You used to be able to get paid for basic photo manipulation, you know? If you were quick with a lasso or skilled with masks you could get a pretty decent chunk of change by pulling subjects out of backgrounds for family holiday cards or isolating the pies on the menu for a mom and pop. Not a lot, but enough to help. But, of course, you can just do that on your phone now. There's no need to pay a human for it, even if they might do a better job or be more considerate toward the aesthetic of an image.

And they certainly don't talk about all the development labs that went away, or the way that you could have trained to be a studio photographer if you wanted to take good photos of your family to hang on the walls and that digital photography allowed in a parade of amateurs who can make dozens of iterations of the same bad photo until they hit on a good one by sheer volume and luck; if you want to be a good photographer everyone can do that why didn't you train for it and spend a long time taking photos on film and being okay with bad photography don't you know that digital photography drove thousands of people out of their jobs.

My dad told me that he plays with AI the other day. He hosts a movie podcast and he puts up thumbnails for the downloads. In the past, he'd just take a screengrab from the film. Now he tells the Bing AI to make him little vignettes. A cowboy running away from a rhino, a dragon arm-wrestling a teddy bear. That kind of thing. Usually based on a joke that was made on the show, or about the subject of the film and an interest of the guest.

People talk about "well AI art doesn't allow people to create things, people were already able to create things, if they wanted to create things they should learn to create things." Not everyone wants to make good art that's creative. Even fewer people want to put the effort into making bad art for something that they aren't passionate about. Some people want filler to go on the cover of their youtube video. My dad isn't going to learn to draw, and as the person who he used to ask to photoshop him as Ant-Man because he certainly couldn't pay anyone for that kind of thing, I think this is a great use case for AI art. This senior citizen isn't going to start cartooning and at two recordings a week with a one-day editing turnaround he doesn't even really have the time for something like a Fiverr commission. This is a great use of AI art, actually.

I also know an artist who is going Hog Fucking Wild creating AI art of their blorbos. They're genuinely an incredibly talented artist who happens to want to see their niche interest represented visually without having to draw it all themself. They're posting the funny and good results to a small circle of mutuals on socials with clear information about the source of the images; they aren't trying to sell any of the images, they're basically using them as inserts for custom memes. Who is harmed by this person saying "i would like to see my blorbo lasciviously eating an ice cream cone in the is this a pigeon meme"?

The way I use machine-generated art, as an artist, is to proof things. Can I get an explosion to look like this. What would a wall of dead computer monitors look like. Would a ballerina leaping over the grand canyon look cool? Sometimes I use AI art to generate copyright free objects that I can snip for a collage. A lot of the time I use it to generate ideas. I start naming random things and seeing what it shows me and I start getting inspired. I can ask CrAIon for pose reference, I can ask it to show me the interior of spaces from a specific angle.

I profoundly dislike the antipathy that tumblr has for AI art. I understand if people don't want their art used in training pools. I understand if people don't want AI trained on their art to mimic their style. You should absolutely use those tools that poison datasets if you don't want your art included in AI training. I think that's an incredibly appropriate action to take as an artist who doesn't want AI learning from your work.

However I'm pretty fucking aggressively opposed to copyright and most of the "solid" arguments against AI art come down to "the AIs viewed and learned from people's copyrighted artwork and therefore AI is theft rather than fair use" and that's a losing argument for me. In. Like. A lot of ways. Primarily because it is saying that not only is copying someone's art theft, it is saying that looking at and learning from someone's art can be defined as theft rather than fair use.

Also because it's just patently untrue.

But that doesn't really answer your question. Why reblog machine-generated art? Because I liked that piece of art.

It was made by a machine that had looked at billions of images - some copyrighted, some not, some new, some old, some interesting, many boring - and guided by a human and I liked it. It was pretty. It communicated something to me. I looked at an image a machine made - an artificial picture, a total construct, something with no intrinsic meaning - and I felt a sense of quiet and loss and nostalgia. I looked at a collection of automatically arranged pixels and tasted salt and smelled the humidity in the air.

I liked it.

I don't think that all AI art is ugly. I don't think that AI art is all soulless (i actually think that 'having soul' is a bizarre descriptor for art and that lacking soul is an equally bizarre criticism). I don't think that AI art is bad for artists. I think the problem that people have with AI art is capitalism and I don't think that's a problem that can really be laid at the feet of people curating an aesthetic AI art blog on tumblr.

Machine learning isn't the fucking problem the problem is massive corporations have been trying hard not to pay artists for as long as massive corporations have existed (isn't that a b-plot in the shape of water? the neighbor who draws ads gets pushed out of his job by product photography? did you know that as recently as ten years ago NewEgg had in-house photographers who would take pictures of the products so users wouldn't have to rely on the manufacturer photos? I want you to guess what killed that job and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't AI)

Am I putting a human out of a job because I reblogged an AI-generated "photo" of curtains waving in the pale green waters of an imaginary beach? Who would have taken this photo of a place that doesn't exist? Who would have painted this hypersurrealistic image? What meaning would it have had if they had painted it or would it have just been for the aesthetic? Would someone have paid for it or would it be like so many of the things that artists on this site have spent dozens of hours on only to get no attention or value for their work?

My worst ratio of hours to notes is an 8-page hand-drawn detailed ink comic about getting assaulted at a concert and the complicated feelings that evoked that took me weeks of daily drawing after work with something like 54 notes after 8 years; should I be offended if something generated from a prompt has more notes than me? What does that actually get the blogger? Clout? I believe someone said that popularity on tumblr gets you one thing and that is yelled at.

What do you get out of this? Are you helping artists right now? You're helping me, and I'm an artist. I've wanted to unload this opinion for a while because I'm sick of the argument that all Real Artists think AI is bullshit. I'm a Real Artist. I've been paid for Real Art. I've been commissioned as an artist.

And I find a hell of a lot of AI art a lot more interesting than I find human-generated corporate art or Thomas Kincaid (but then, I repeat myself).

There are plenty of people who don't like AI art and don't want to interact with it. I am not one of those people. I thought the gay sex cats were funny and looked good and that shitposting is the ideal use of a machine image generation: to make uncopyrightable images to laugh at.

I think that tumblr has decided to take a principled stand against something that most people making the argument don't understand. I think tumblr's loathing for AI has, generally speaking, thrown weight behind a bunch of ideas that I think are going to be incredibly harmful *to artists specifically* in the long run.

Anyway. If you hate AI art and you don't want to interact with people who interact with it, block me.

[flanaganfilm]

Good day Mr Flanagan. please what does "the rest is confetti" mean to you and in the context it was used in hill house??

Okay, here we go. Buckle up for a long read.

To answer this, I've got to explain a little bit about what was happening and where I was when I sat down to write episode 10 of The Haunting of Hill House.

Hill House was not a fun shoot. The picture above is from very early in production, when I was still chubby and happy.

It was my first foray into television. I was absolutely terrified that I'd mess it up. So I'd opted to direct all of the episodes myself, figuring that - if nothing else - I'd have no one else to blame if it went south.

It was the most grueling professional experience of my career. The shoot was by no means a smooth one, every day was an uphill battle from a budgetary perspective, and between the three giant production entities involved with the production, I spent a lot of time fighting over the creative and logistical elements of the series.

I began losing weight. I was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.

By the end of the shoot, I had dropped almost 40 lbs.

I was very depressed. Every day was a battle, and for the first time in my career, I wasn't excited to go to work in the morning. We were fighting for basic resources, fighting for the show we wanted, and even fighting amongst ourselves by the end. It was grueling.

We hadn't written all of the scripts when we started production. I believe we had finished through episode 7, but the rest of the scripts had to be finished while we were already shooting.

We'd mapped everything out in the writers room, and I had great support on the other episodes, but I was writing the finale solo. I'd thought I'd be able to juggle it with everything else. I quickly fell behind.

I finally got to the script about halfway through production. I'd work on it between takes at the monitor, and then get home to our tiny rental house in Atlanta, where Kate was waiting with our baby son. (One of the rare bright spots of this shoot came when Kate found out she was pregnant about halfway through production. We even named our daughter Theodora, in honor of her origins.)

I'd typically fall down from exhaustion when I got home, but I had to push through it and work on the script. My weekends were spent shotlisting and prepping for upcoming episodes. We didn't have enough time to stay ahead of prep, so every available day was used for that... I went three months without a single day off at one point.

I'd sit up late staring at the script. I was in a dark, dark place. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling like I lived in an eternal present. Each day bled into the next and it didn't feel like there was an end in sight. That feeling of unreality was heightened because we kept returning to the same sets, same locations, and even the same scenes throughout the 100 shooting-day production. Stepping back into the exact room we had shot in days or weeks or even months ago made the whole thing feel absolutely surreal. Making movies is always an non-linear experience, but this one felt particularly so... it was like the days of our lives were happening to us all out of order.

I remember feeling something like despair creeping into my daily experience on the show. And I remember dwelling on that when I got into the scene work of episode 10.

As I worked through the draft, I recall that despair coloring a lot of what was on the page. My filter was breaking down. There's a monologue at the beginning of the episode where Steven's wife Leigh (played by my dear friend Samantha Sloyan) spews out a torrent of eviscerating insults about Steve's value as a writer. That is just me vomiting onto myself. She was voicing all of my deepest insecurities about myself at the time, and of what I was doing with this series.

She says "Is anything real before you write it, Steve? The things you write about, they're real. Those people are real, their feelings are real, their pain is real - but not to you, is it. Not until you chew it up, digest it, and shit it out onto a piece of paper and even then, it's a pale imitation at best."

This was the mindset I was in for a lot of the shoot. The writing became a reflection of a lot of that turmoil, and I knew who I was referring to in that monologue - I was talking about my family. I was talking about how much of their lives I'd used as building material for this show. I was talking about the fact that I'd lost two loved ones to suicide, and seen what it had done to my mother in particular. And I knew I was using - possibly even exploiting - those people for this series.

There's a lot of despair in this episode. The Red Room, as we conceived it, was a place that would feed upon those emotions. Grief, sadness, loss... those were the real ghosts of our series, and where our characters find themselves at the start of the finale. They're being slowly digested - eaten alive - by those feelings.

So finally, it came time to write Nell's final scene with her siblings. I knew from the outline we'd constructed in the writers room what this was supposed to accomplish - she was supposed to be their salvation. She was supposed to take all of these feelings that we'd been wrestling with and finally provide catharsis... finally say something that would free everyone.

I remember sitting with a blinking cursor for a long time. The Crain siblings had just turned and seen Nellie standing by the door, and suddenly were able to hear her speak. But what should she say? What would I say? What would I want someone to say to me?

What she ultimately says lays bare a lot of what I was thinking about when it comes to grief. It exists outside of linear time, much as I felt I existed at the time. That sense of eternal present, that sense of a nonlinear eternity of moments and memories - it all came out in her speech to her brothers and sisters.

I remember feeling, looking at my insane present and looking back at my past, how strangely overwhelmed I was by memories. That I wasn't experiencing time in a straight line, and hadn't been for a while - for the better part of a year, I'd felt more like I was standing in a whirlwind of moments. "Our moments fall around us like..." Nell said, and I recall sitting back and trying to find the words.

"Rain," for certain, but there was something too uniform about that. The moments of life as I experienced them weren't that orderly, they weren't that small. They didn't fall the same way. Some sailed by, fast and unremarkable, while others lingered in front of me, twisting and stretching. So it was a good word, but not the right word. I left it on the page though.

"Snow" was my next attempt. Better, in that I imagined the snow blowing in the wind, swirling and dancing and feeling more organic. More chaotic. More like life. But for some reason, the word that stuck with me, the word I felt Nell Crain would connect with was...

"Confetti."

And that was because I was thinking not of Victoria Pedretti at this point, but of Violet McGraw.

Violet played Young Nell, and I wondered what she might have said if she experienced time this way. As an adult, Nell was despairing. Nell was overwhelmed. But as a child... there was an innocence to the word. There was a joy to the word.

I imagined moments falling around her, this little girl with the big smile and the wide eyes. Her moments would be colorful. They would be of different shapes and sizes, some falling fast and some falling slow, flipping and turning and dancing in the air, independent of the others. Sparkling, whirling, doing lazy summersaults as they sauntered down to Earth.

I thought of myself, and of the members of my family. I thought of those we'd lost. I realized what I hoped for them, and for us all, in the end... was to look upon that mosaic of experience, that avalanche of days and minutes and moments... and to smile with some of the joy we had as children.

And this, I thought, was something that gave me hope. This gave me a glimpse of some kind of salvation for them. This was also how I hoped my life might seem if I was a ghost - a cascade of color and light and shape and movement, something I could dance in.

So Nell smiled and said... "or confetti."

It stuck with me. The rest of her monologue gets heavy again, and gets to the real point of the show - the point of the whole series, if I'm honest - and that's forgiveness.

I figured the only thing that would let the Crain children out of the Red Room was to be forgiven. I thought of the losses in my own family, and I thought of what I wished for my mother and for my aunts and uncles and cousins and I tried to pour that into her final words.

"I loved you completely, and you loved me the same," she said, "that's all." And this was the point I wanted the most to make. That at the end of our life, if we can say this about each other, the rest doesn't matter. The rest is that rainstorm, or that blizzard, that fell around this one central truth, and maybe built itself in piles around it, to the point we lost sight of it along the way.

And I thought again of that little girl, and almost as an afterthought, wrote "The rest is confetti."

I liked the way it sounded, but I was insecure about the line. I almost took it out, in fact. I remember asking Kate to read the scene and talking about that last line with her. "Is it too cute?" I wondered. She was on the fence. "Depends on how it's acted," she said, and I figured she was right. We could always take it out if it didn't work. The scene could end with "I loved you completely, and you loved me the same. That's all."

Why not shoot it and see what happened.

I turned in the script, we published it quickly so that we could start breaking it down and prepping it. And the next morning I was back on set. I'd deal with episode 10 when it came down the pipe again, sometime in the coming months. We had a lot of shooting to get through before I had to worry about it.

I recall Netflix asking me to cut a lot of that monologue, and I remember them also having questions about the "confetti" line. I pointed out that it didn't cost us any extra to shoot it all, it was only words, and fought to keep the script intact.

Ultimately, they insisted I make a series of cuts on the page. I begrudgingly agreed, but left Nell's speech alone. I made superficial cuts around it, throughout the draft, and even considered changing the font size to fool them into thinking it had gotten shorter (I ultimately was told I wouldn't fool anyone and not to risk starting a war). But Nellie's final goodbye stayed intact.

It must be said - Victoria Pedretti SLAUGHTERED this scene.

By the time we got around to filming it, things had never been worse for the production. There was almost nothing left for a lot of us. Tensions were sky-high, resources had been exhausted completely, and we were all ready to give up.

Filming in the mold-ridden Red Room was depressing, morose, and led to a lot of arguments and unpleasantness. The room itself just felt gross, always, and we were in there for days at a time. The last thing we had to shoot in there was Nellie's goodbye.

Victoria came to set having to push through pages of monologue, and she did so with captivating bravado. I recall being teary-eyed at the monitor watching her work. And when we finally made it to the last line, I watched her deliver it with... a smile. A sincere, innocent, longing, joyful smile. A smile informed by the sadness, grief, and loss of her own situation, of her own life... but a smile that finds forgiveness and grace after all. Pedretti knew how to say the line, and how that word would work.

And as she said it, I knew it would stay in the show.

Over the years, that sentence has become something of a tagline for The Haunting of Hill House. I'm always a bit mystified and touched when I see people approach me with the line on T-shirts, or even tattooed on their bodies.

I started signing it with autographs back in 2020 after enough fans asked me to. Now it's my go-to when I sign anything related to Hill House.

The line, for me, represents a lot of things.

It's about the insane, chaotic, non-linear experience of making that show. It's about trying to find and hold onto joy, even in the grips of despair.

It's about the way the moments of our lives aren't linear, not really, and how we may be unable to understand them as we exist in their flurry. It's about finding hope, innocence and forgiveness in the final reckoning.

And it's about how, outside of our love for each other, the rest is just... well, it's fleeting. It's colorful. It's overwhelming. It's blinding. It's dancing. And, if we look at it right, it's beautiful. But it's also light. It's tinsel. It flits and dances and falls and fades, it's as light as air.

The rest is the stuff that falls around us, and flits away into nothing.

It's the love that stays.

[your-friendly-sociopath]

I've been thinking recently about a story I made a while back about yandere alastor while he was alive, and apparently ppl liked it so I've decided to make a part two of that, but it's shortly after both alastor and his darling (reader obv) are dead

Also bc alastor is hot and I need more

Part one here

His Darling Doe, Pt 2

After Alastor had "saved" you in the alleyway, he never let you leave the cabin

For the rest of your (admittedly short) life, he had forced you into the role of the meek and helpless housewife

It wasn't so bad, he was a gentleman and always made sure you had everything you could want

Except your freedom of course

The night alastor died you thought you were finally free

But nope

Turns out that when the cops found out he was the killer, they thought you were an accomplice and had you sentenced to death

One moment you were on an electric chair, the next you were falling from the sky

As you were falling you heard a loud screech, and could see the devastated look coming from a glowing creature above

It looked like an angel

The next thing you noticed was a glowing green chain dragging you down (bc the chain scene was so hrrrgh)

And the last thing you noticed was two small wings attached to your back, you watched as the once snowy white color became corrupted by black and green -the same shade of green as the chain- then you hit the ground and blacked out

Again you woke up, face smushed against the weirdly warm cement

Confused, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position, and looked around trying to make sense of your surroundings

Right as you finally pulled yourself to your feet (or hooves, since ur a deer demon cause I say so) you heard a very loud, very staticy, and very family voice

A voice you had come to both dread and love while alive

"Ah, there are my dear. I was starting to think that my spells hadn't worked!"

Your eyes widened in horror as you turned to face the man you had once loved, your now discolored wings subconsciously wrapping around you in an attempt to comfort you

"No... not you" you whispered

Alastor tilted his head in confusion

" Whatever do you mean by that, my darling doe? I'd have thought you would be absolutely ecstatic to see me!"

You scowled at him and took a step back, to which he responded by smiling wider and stepping forward

"Come now my dear, you can't really be upset still, everything I did was to keep you safe."

Your ears (you hadn't noticed you deer ears in your hair until they had just moved, surprising you) flattened in irritation as your wings flared out in anger

"You kept me locked up in that God forsaken cabin," you hissed "trapped there to be nothing more than a trophy for you."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, he had known that you didn't like being kept in the house, but he couldn't just let you out!

Anything could've happened to you, he was simply protecting you!

Alastor decided to close the distance between you two, and quickly strided over to you, pushing you against the wall he trapped you in a passionate kiss

Despite your anger, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, having missed him despite being separated for just under a month

You two stayed like that for a few minutes, relishing in each other's presence

When you finally came back to your senses, you shoved him away and ran

Distantly, you heard a record scratch as alastor took a moment to realize what you just did

Then he snarled, his smile growing impossibly wide as he shifted into his full demon form

You rushed through crowds of demons, a few of them snarling at you and threatening you, others catcalling

Now, despite being in hell for only a few weeks, alastor had already set a reputation as demon not to fuck with

So as you rushed through the crowds with a creepy ass deer demon chasing you, many knew not to interfere

Alastor reached out a long clawed hand, just barely brushing your arm

Panicked, you glanced back and saw alastor, looking like a fucking monster

You shrieked in terror, and out of instinct, your wings opened up and launched you into the sky

You heard alastor let out an unearthly, furious scream

You let yourself hope, for a brief moment, that you had escaped

Then the same glowing chain appeared around your neck, a d yanked you back down to the ground

You crashed into the broad chest of alastor, still in his demon form, as he whispered in your ear

"A valiant effort, my darling, but you forget. You couldn't escape me while alive, so what makes you think you can escape me now.." he growled "..now that I'm so much stronger."

"You can't escape me.. you are mine~"

He chuckled lowly at your continued struggling, watching as you finally went limp in his hold when he yanked on your chain

"Come along now, pet, it's time we went home"

The hand not holding the chain snaked around your waist, bringing you flush against his body

Everything went dark for brief moment, before the both of you appeared in front of a cabin

Your cabin

The one that you now considered a prison

You ears flattened once again, this time in despair as tears started to flow

You weren't ever going to escape now

He was much to powerful for anyone to go against

Alastor buried his face in your soft hair, nhaling deeply before walking you up to the front door, slowly turning back to normal from his demon form

"Ah, welcome home, my doe~"

Hehehehehehe

Finished another

Hot deer daddy

[vanteguccir]

Coziness, love, and other things | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N's cozy cottage becomes a refuge for Matt, but it's not just the house that encloses him, but who's inside; OR, where Matt and Y/N are in love, but afraid to confess. Until one day.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @mattscurlygirly

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Los Angeles was buzzing with life when the triplets moved there, looking for new opportunities for their YouTube career.

It was a sunny day, the day after they settled permanently in their own home, when Matt found himself wandering around the local market, on a somewhat clumsy mission to buy fruit and vegetables for a Wednesday video that Nick had come up with. He wasn't exactly an expert in grocery shopping, and the confusion of colors and smells left him a little lost.

It was then that he saw her - Y/N, standing in the middle of the fruit stands, examining a pile of apples with a serene smile on her lips. She radiated a calmness and natural beauty that instantly caught Matt's attention.

With an inexplicable impulse, Matt approached her, determined to overcome his usual shyness.

"Hi, excuse me." He began, nervous but determined. "You seem to know what you're doing here. Can you help me pick some fruit?"

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his in an instant. Her smile widened when she noticed his hesitation.

"Of course!" The girl responded, kindly. "What do you want to get?"

What started as a simple exchange of words quickly turned into a lively conversation. Matt discovered that Y/N was a plant lover and an avid supporter of local agriculture. Her passion was contagious, and he found himself sharing more stories about his own life than he expected.

When it was time to leave, Matt found himself reluctant to leave her.

"Hey, do you want to go out sometime?" He asked suddenly, his courage increasing with each word.

"I'd love to. Why don't you come over to my house on Saturday? We can do something together." Y/N smiled, her eyes shining.

Matt agreed immediately, feeling a bubbling excitement in his chest. He couldn't explain the feeling, but he knew there was something special about Y/N from the moment he saw her.

A week later, Matt was standing in the doorway of Y/N's house, his heart beating a little faster than normal while waiting for her. When she opened the door, her warm smile enveloped him almost instantly, dispelling all his worries.

As soon as the boy entered her home, he was immediately captivated by the warm and cozy atmosphere. It was as if he had found a refuge amidst the chaos of the city and even the crazy acceleration of his home.

Over the next few weeks, Matt found himself returning to Y/N's house more and more frequently. He couldn't resist the feeling of peace he found there, nor her company.

Gradually, his feelings for her intensified, but he was hesitant to confess. He was afraid of ruining the friendship they had built - and one of the only true ones he had created in the crazy city of LA and among so many celebrities -, and even more afraid of being rejected.

Little did he know, she felt the same way.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The gentle afternoon breeze danced across the fields around Y/N's small home, whispering secrets among the leaves of the trees and caressing the petals of the flowers in her garden. The golden sun cast its rays through the windows, painting the interior with tones of warmth and coziness.

Inside the house, Y/N was busy watering her plants in her kitchen, an activity she considered as essential as breathing. Her refuge was a veritable green paradise, with foliage that hung gracefully from shelves and vines that snaked up the walls.

The sound of soft knocks on the door in a rhythm already very familiar to her took her out of her reverie, and a smile immediately formed on her lips.

"Come in, Matt!" She called, letting out a nasal laugh at his sudden appearance in her home as she continued to water her plants.

Matt opened the door with a wide smile, his blue eyes shining beautifully in the sunlight.

“Hey, Y/N.” He greeted, entering and closing the door behind him. "How are you? I couldn't send you a text yesterday. We finished recording during the night."

"Better now that you're here." Y/N responded with a playful smile, turning her watering can over and throwing some water towards him.

"Hey, I came in peace!" Matt feigned horror, quickly dodging away, watching the droplets fall on the floor.

"You always say that." Y/N teased, laughing as she put the watering can back in place. "Come on, I made pie. Your favorite."

Sitting down at the kitchen table, they began to talk while eating, as they always did when they were together. It was that easy with Matt. The words flowed effortlessly, and the silence was never uncomfortable.

"Oh, I brought you something." Matt said, taking out a small package from his backpack and placing it on the free space above the table.

"What is it?" Y/N raised an eyebrow while finishing chewing the sweet in her mouth, curious.

"Surprise." Matt replied in a whisper, his smile widening.

The girl opened the package carefully, revealing a pair of small, colorful flower seedlings. Her eyes instantly lit up, rising to his face as a smile gradually grew on her cheeks.

"Matt, they're beautiful!" She exclaimed, holding one of the seedlings gently. "Thank you."

"I knew you would like it." He pressed his lips into a thin line in an attempt not to smile like crazy, watching her tenderly, his eyes traveling from her eyes bright with joy to her wide and excited smile.

With Y/N's help, they prepared pots for the new plants, sharing laughter and lively conversations as they worked together. It was crazy how Matt found an immense interest within himself in plants. It wasn't news that he loved nature with all his being, but Y/N awakened something different in him.

As they worked, their fingers occasionally touched, sending subtle shivers down their spines. It was nothing new for them - there was always electricity in the air when they were together, a gentle tension that they both recognized but chose to ignore.

As the sun began to set, they finally finished planting the flowers, admiring their work with satisfied smiles.

"They're perfect." Y/N murmured, looking at the flowers fondly and clasping her hands together in front of her body in admiration.

"Just like you." Matt said softly, his eyes meeting hers.

A familiar warmth spread through Y/N's chest, and she looked away, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. Matt always had a way of making her feel special, even with the simplest compliments.

"You're so silly, you know that?" She said, trying to hide the emotion in her voice.

"But it's true." Matt insisted, his smile never wavering.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

It was Friday night, the perfect time to escape the routine and get lost in the city's bright streets. Matt parked his car in front of Y/N's house, feeling excitement pulsing through his veins. With a hint of anticipation, he pressed the horn twice in succession, a sharp sound cutting through the stillness of the air.

A few heartbeats later, the door opened and Y/N appeared, observing the car for a few seconds before bending down slightly, looking at Matt in the driver's seat with a mixed expression of surprise and confusion.

"Matt? What are you doing here?" She asked with a frown, her voice thick with perplexity. "Oh my, we had no plans for tonight, right?"

"No, we didn't. But today's video was too stressful to record, and while I left Nick and Chris at home, I thought it would be a good option to drive around for a bit, I needed to clear my head. But it's no fun alone." Matt shrugged, smiling small and raising his right eyebrow, his expression brimming with expectation.

Y/N arched her own, but the mischievous glint in her eyes indicated that she was interested. She shook her head, a smile playing on her lips.

"Why not? I'll get my jacket."

Matt watched as Y/N ran back inside. He knew there was nothing special about just driving around, but the simple idea of ​​spending more time with her was enough to make him happy.

When Y/N returned, he stretched his upper body across the car's console and the passenger seat, pulling the inside handle and pushing the door open, adjusting his posture again and watching her get in and sit down next to himself.

Matt quickly turned on the car after making sure she was comfortable, leaving the familiar streets of Los Angeles behind.

As they drove through the city, they talked and laughed like they always did, the radio playing Y/N's favorite playlist in the background at a low volume, letting the night guide them wherever they wanted to go.

Matt felt at peace next to her, her closeness filling him with a comforting feeling, his mind finally emptying itself of problems and all stress, and focusing completely on the girl he loved.

Suddenly, Y/N's favorite song started playing, filling the car with an infectious beat. Her eyes lit up, a scream of excitement escaping her lips followed by an excited laugh. Her right hand worked on opening the window on her side, allowing the wind to play with her hair.

Matt couldn't take his eyes off her.

As the girl sang at the top of her lungs, her eyes closed tightly, and a beaming smile opened on her cheeks, Matt felt like he was witnessing pure euphoria personified.

He was in a trance, his mouth slightly open, and his pupils almost completely dilated, his heart pounding in his chest.

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Matt tried to keep his attention between her and the road, making sure they were safe while Y/N gave herself over to the music and the night, the strong wind circulating through the inside of the car and moving the boy's fluffy hair.

His heart filled with warmth at seeing her so happy, and he knew without a shadow a doubt that he was right where he belonged.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A cool autumn breeze danced through the tree leaves, bringing with it the comforting scent of dry leaves and spices. In Y/N's room, autumn-scented candles cast a soft, welcoming light, serving as the only source of living light, while the warmth of coziness filled the walls.

Y/N and Matt were cuddled up in the double bed under thick blankets, their bodies pressing gently against each other as they watched a horror movie on the television.

A bowl full of freshly baked and fragrant chocolate cookies rested on the girl's lap above the duvet, consequently warming her legs, both of their hands fishing for the treats from time to time.

The atmosphere was filled with the tranquility of an autumn night, Matt's favorite, but the boy struggled mightily to concentrate on the movie as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

The feeling of Y/N's warm skin rubbing against his made his own goosebumps, the natural smell of her hair filled his nostrils, leaving him in a state of almost drunkenness.

As the movie progressed, a scary scene appeared on the screen, causing Y/N to jump in fright and snuggle even more against Matt's chest.

The boy felt a shiver run down his spine almost automatically, and his heart beat even harder in his chest, so that he could hear it in his ears, the sound of the voices coming from the television becoming muffled to him.

When Y/N looked up with an amused smile on her face, ready to make a joke about the scare, she found Matt's eyes already fixed on her in a different way, a good one. There was something there - a quiet intensity that made her own heart race.

Her smile slowly faded, her throat swallowing hard at Matt's intensity.

Their gazes remained fixed for long minutes, or seconds, and before Y/N could find the courage to say anything, Matt raised a trembling hand, taking it to the apple of her cheek, caressing the flushed and warm skin lightly, his expression full of tenderness and emotion.

"Y/N." He whispered, his voice soft to the ears. "I need to tell you something."

Y/N's heart lurched in her chest, her cheeks burning slightly under Matt's touch, feeling anxiety and anticipation rise through her body like a shiver.

"What is it?" She asked just as quietly, barely able to contain the emotion in her voice, the movie already long forgotten.

Matt swallowed hard, summoning all the courage he had within him.

“I love you, Y/N.” The boy confessed, knowing that if he thought twice, he wouldn't say it. His eyes never leaving hers. "I love you more than I ever thought possible to love anyone. I would do anything for you, anything to have you."

Matt's words echoed in the room, filled with sincerity and vulnerability. Y/N felt tears threatening to overflow her eyes, a wave of heat flooding her chest.

She wanted to say something, express the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling, but words escaped her, and she knew that in that moment she had gained what her heart longed for most, having him for herself.

Then, in a moment of pure connection, Y/N leaned up, resting her hand on Matt's chest, and finally captured Matt's lips with hers, initiating a sweet, passionate kiss.

Their lips moved in perfect harmony, conveying all the love and affection they felt for each other. Y/N's free hand traveled to the side of Matt's head, playing with his curly hair lightly, as Matt brought his hands to her hips, lightly squeezing the covered skin between his fingers.

When they pulled away seconds later, Y/N blinked long and hard, her eyes shining with tears of happiness, a radiant smile lighting up her face.

"Matt, you are every flower I have ever admired." Y/N muttered, her voice cracking. "That means I love you too. With all my heart."

And there, on that autumn night, under the glow of the candles and the warmth of the blankets, Matt and Y/N could finally allow themselves to feel and love, without fear of rejection, because they already belonged to each other.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @jamiesturniolo @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

[tim-shii]

tiktok trends with bf!sae

a/n: my man MY MAN RRAAAAHHHH i need him in my life it is crazy INSANE that hes not real and hes not in my arms rn (p.s sae is taller in this ,, it doesnt specify how tall but just tall enough that he has to lean down for a kiss ty)

it’s a rare occasion that your boyfriend agrees to go along with your antics. a prank, a trend or just him being in the frame. however, sae can’t seem to ever say no when you ask him nicely to do a tiktok with you. he has one condition though: he will never ever do a dance.

" THINK I LIKE YOU BEST WHEN YOU'RE JUST WITH ME "

the green in his eye looks so pretty. it goes perfectly well with the brightness in yours. sae looks straight in the camera as you instructed. yet there’s an itch in his system telling him to look in your direction instead. his pupils are dilating, he knows. and he knows that you notice it too, the growing blush on your face an indication of you acknowledging his obvious adoration. a few seconds before the audio ends, sae turns his head slightly to kiss your cheek. resulting to you dropping the phone. failed ending, yes, your followers found it cute though.

" STAY WITH ME, I DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAVE "

now, this. sae agrees to do this trend with you the moment you showed him the video. why would he refuse? he gets you kissing all over his face. that’s practically heaven to him. the marks are just freebies. after leaving a decent amount of lipstick stains on his face (sae thinks you should’ve left more), you pushed him out of frame and hit the record button. he waits until you purposely smudge the rouge past your lips, his thumb smoothly wiping it away. his periphery catches you sliding the phone to show him in the frame. his eyes are locked on your tinted lips before going back up to lock gazes with you. his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you closer yet pushing you back simultaneously away from the frame, and his lips meet yours. your lips transferring color to his already rosy ones.

" YOU BETTER LOCK YOUR PHONE "

from what he saw, you either stand there looking pretty or twirl around. either way, all he has to do is walk over, hook an arm around your waist and walk away (in a cool manner). it’s going well a few seconds in. you stand in front of your phone, showing your outfit. he starts sauntering the first time you turn your head to him. the second time you do it, he’s left stunned when you swiftly ran to the other direction. he follows after you, his longer limbs allowing him to catch up to you within seconds. sae throws you over his shoulder and carries you back to where you left your phone, that was still recording. the video ends with him dropping you to your feet and pinching your cheek.

" I'D NEVER FIND SOMEONE LIKE YOU "

this trend is somewhat similar to the other one. it starts with him off the frame and ends together with you. he can only hope you don’t rush out this time. if sae was being honest, the song used is definitely one of his favorites. not his go-to genre to listen to, yes, but he truly does believe you’re out of his league sometimes. he bumps into you at the beat, wide shoulders colliding with yours. he makes sure there’s no aggression behind it, sae doesn’t want you hurt over a video. when you turn back, he’s blessed with a smiling face. your arms wrap around his waist, chin on his chest. sae finds it easier to lean down and capture your lips this way. there’s a warm hand holding the back of your head and the other found its home on your hip. when he pulls away, his eyes drift past you and he’s reminded of the device diarizing this very moment.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

[anundyingfidelity]

BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS — Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy

Summary: A normal night where Butcher and his new pal, Soldier Boy, fuck just their stress out with a new toy, you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female reader x Soldier Boy

Word count: 1.5k.

Warnings: porn without plot, dom!butcher, dom!ben, one thought of dub-con but not really, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, unsafe sex (creampie and switching holes basically don't do it, this is just porn), squirting, dirty talk, blowjobs, facial, degradation (usage of whore, slut, etc.), cumplay, some dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, blood, mentions of violence, Ben and Butcher being kinda jerks, normal misogyny coming from SB, some ego competition, hints to aftercare.

Notes: You already know english is not my main language, not betad and barely revised, lol sorry for the mistakes in here. The amount of horniness I have for these two I swear is not fucking normal. Normally I'd apologize for writing this, but I'm ovulating.

the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

A pair of rough hands held your legs open. Your empty pussy was throbing as Butcher knelt between your thighs rubbing the tip of his cock against your cunt.

You gasped, the man behind you spreading you further for his new team mate to get better access while he fucked your ass senseless. His cock reaching all the right spots. You moaned loudly, almost screaming when Butcher finally pushed inside you. Soldier Boy never seemed to cease his insane thrusts from behind.

"Luv, you're so fucking tight," Butcher grinned, your walls engulfing him perfectly.

They both soon set up a rhythm, one pushing in while the other almost slide out of your hole. Each stroke of their massive cocks inside you exploded something you never felt before. It was a new kind of spark eliciting from the deepest places, and you wanted to come undone there, over and over, forever, between their strong bodies.

"Oh, fuck! Yes right there, god!" you growled, screamed, and cried out incoherences as the two men continued fucking you to bliss.

A layer of sweat covered your skin and you rolled your eyes back, the familiar knot on your belly building up yet again. You didn't have an idea of how much time had passed since you arrived back to the dirty motel. All three of you arrived covered in blood, dirt and the weight of murder, and you still let them take you and you welcomed them the same way. You let them have fun with you however they pleased.

The last thing you remembered from that night was coming back from a mission. Your aching body begging for a shower and good sleep, but Butcher and the new supe found other ways to take their own stress out. You doubted at first. Of course you didn't know it could feel this good. They left bite marks all over your neck, nipped your tits, spanked your thighs open for their mouths to devour you while the other fucked your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks.

They continued bruising and marking your skin. Like a canvas, they left their prints, covering your flesh with different colors all over and used your mouth and pussy as they fucking wanted, granting access to the other, spreading your legs, manhandling you all over the disgusting, shitty room. Then Soldier Boy had the idea of using your ass, just for him, and at first, you were fucking scared. It was all too much. But once he had you ready and stretched enough with his fingers, you quickly fell for his rough touch and his dick, which was as huge as his ego. He was fucking addictive. Both were, in fact, fucking you amazingly hard.

One of Ben's hand wrapped around your neck, climax reaching its peak as Butcher rubbed your clit with his thumb. Your walls clenched around both of them and the vulgar sound of your pussy filled the place along with their skin hitting yours.

"Little slut, gonna cum for us?" Ben said, voice full of lust, pressing your back against his bare chest. You clenched again, his dark chuckle enhanced heaven down your cunt.

Wetness increased between your legs, and you moaned. Louder than ever. The whole place might already know what was happening in the room, but neither Ben or Billy made you shut up. In fact, they wanted you to scream your lungs out.

"Oh, she's definitely gonna cum," Butcher followed, a smirk on his lips. "C'mon sweetheart, don't be shy. Give us one more."

"I-I feel like- fuck!" with a loud cry you squirted all over them, their dicks sliding out of your holes. Shit, that was the harderst you came for the night.

Immediately you tried to close your shaky legs, but Butcher's hands held you in place, pussy clenching around nothing as your fluids coated their hard lenghts and thighs.

"Fucking hell. I'm gonna break you, sugar," Ben hissed, taking your legs and fixing your position on top of him, sliding you down his dick, but this time he claimed your pussy, pistoning in and out of you without any mercy. Even if your body still trembled and you were so fucking overstimulated. You moaned.

Butcher tskd as he watched you, tears streaming down your face and lost in pleassure. "That was mine, pal."

"Yeah, I don't give a fuck- Jesus, she's fucking tight!" Ben hoarsed.

He didn't care about Butcher, he just wanted to fuck you until you passed out and his name was the only thing on your mind.

You whimpered softly. "Please, please," you were getting there again, under the brunette man's dark eyes as the soldier fucked you insane.

But before you reached that sweet peak again, Ben pulled out of you. His strenght forced you to bend over the matress on your hands and knees, Butcher positioned himself right in front of your face. It was so fast and they moved quickly, like a dance already choreographed between them to take advantage of all you got to give.

"Open wide, baby" Butcher ordered. You complied happily, letting his cock touch the back of your throat smoothly.

Ben's rough hands gripped your hips, down your ass, giving a spank on one of your cheeks, making you jump slightly. He grabbed your ass cheeks spreading them to expose your hole, the tip of his cock teased your ass until he slid in a swift motion. You whimpered with your mouth stuffed. He filled you up perfectly and you fucking loved it.

"Such a good cumslut, taking my cock so fucking well," Ben praised, voice husky. He roughly gripped your hair, forcing yourself down more around Butcher's shaft. You gagged, he smirked. "Might just keep you around as my little, personal fuckdoll."

"Fuck- easy there, mate," Butcher warned, as you worked your tongue and lips on his cock as much as you could. "We have another deal, remember?"

Ben smirked cockily at him as you clenched around his cock. You let out a moan muffled by Butcher fucking your mouth. Both their thrusts harder than ever. "Still, I don't give a shit."

Ben's gaze admired you, hands on your hips, as he watched himself shoving into your hole. "You're gonna fucking cum again, you dirty little bitch," he ordered.

"Mmm..." You nodded as best as you could with the twitching cock on your mouth.

Butcher suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva leaked down your lips to the tip of his cock. He kept your head in place as much as he could and jerked himself off with his other hand. He came with a hard groan all over your pretty face. His white seed painted your cheeks, lips and your tongue sticking out as you shut your eyes.

"Bloody hell, don't you look ravishing," Butcher whispered darkly. His thumb collected his cum, now mixed with your tears and a small stain of dry blood on your face. He dragged it to your lips so you could taste it. Your plump lips closed around his finger with a moan.

"Insatiable slut, just how I like them," Ben hissed, pulling out of your asshole, making you whimper. "Now, I'm gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy."

He rubbed the tip of his dick on your slit and entered slowly. You felt every inch stretching you out and he slammed into you brutally, he was so fucking close. You could feel it. It surprised you how much they actually endured, their stamina was endless and you lost count of how many times they made you cum already. And yet, you felt that precious sensation anew, soft walls clenching repeatedly around him.

"C'mon whore," Ben gripped on your hair, pulling your back against his muscular chest, taking both your wrists with his other hand. "Cum around my cock."

Your cunt pulsed, he grunted. And you came, again, with shaky legs, shaky breath and the sight of a naked Butcher, who already had taken a seat on the couch in front of the bed. Your orgasm triggered Ben's, and he filled you up completely. You cried out when his fingers found your clit, the grip on your hair long gone now. He continued fucking his cum inside you, balls deep, until he started to soften inside you. His thrusts slowed down little by little.

Ben finally pulled out, letting go of your wrists and you collapsed on your hands and knees on the mattress. He spread out your pussy with his fingers and admired his white cum dripping out of you.

"Well, that was a fucking ride," he smiled. His middle finger wiped his seed and forced it back inside your pulsing cunt. "Fuck, where do you find these kind of women?"

Butcher shrugged. "I have my contacts."

"I'm still here, y'know," you breathed out, rolling on your back.

Ben hovered over your tired figure. Messy hair, cheeks stained with Butcher's cum, teary eyes, and some dry blood spots decorated your face. They did break you and put you back into pieces. He was damn proud of that. He leaned down and sucked into the skin of your neck. You moaned, your fingers tangled on his scalp as his lips carressed your neck, his beard burning on your soft skin.

"Ben, I'm tired," you said, and he stopped his kisses. He shared a suspicious look with Butcher and then locked his lustful green eyes with yours.

The supe winked at you. "Later, doll."

You rolled your eyes and heard Butcher standing up.

"Gonna prepare you a bath, luv," he said as he disappeared inside the bathroom. "Have to take good care of ya."

[cherry-leclerc]

i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad. 

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport. 

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt. 

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son. 

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime. 

-

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers. 

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious. 

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari. 

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt. 

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing. 

-

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him. 

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm. 

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!” 

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.  

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

-

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile. 

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you? 

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you. 

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

-

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased. 

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes. 

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin. 

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve? 

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close. 

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard. 

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him. 

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth. 

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight. 

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.” 

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn. 

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together. 

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man. 

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit. 

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head. 

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

 He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right? 

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them. 

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased. 

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.” 

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

[weaselle]

RECOVERY

I spent a lot of my life depressed without admitting it to myself and then i spent a year so depressed i could hardly make myself do the bare minimum to keep my body alive, and now it's about 3 years since i got up from that lowest point and while i am still struggling with myself things are objectively a lot better.

and i just want to put a couple things i've learned, both to remind myself of how far i've come, and in case any of what i've experienced helps anyone else.

You can't run from the darkness

When you're super depressed it's easy to focus on how much you don't want to be depressed. When everything is darkness you tend to wish you could escape that darkness.

but you can't. The darkness is all around you. You can't run away from it without running deeper into it.

instead, follow the light.

don't think of it as escaping depression, think of it as seeking joy. Don't run away from the darkness, walk toward any lights you can see.

At first it will be very small things. The taste of a food. The way your favorite color looks. A smell you like. For me one of the first things i could find to remind me of joy was the way a warm shower feels.

I would just stand in the shower and lean into the tiny, tiny joy of that feeling. I would describe it to myself, how it felt good, what about it felt good. It didn't cure me, it didn't make me less depressed, but it was a little point of joy to focus on, to breathe into like a tiny candle flame in my darkness.

I would memorize that feeling, so that later, when i felt like nothing ever brought me joy anymore, i could think, no, that's your depression lying to you, you felt joy, however small, right there in the shower just yesterday. And, maybe there is more somewhere else.

Even today, it's been a hard week, i'm feeling a lot of hopeless and helpless feelings clamoring away at me, but... i have spicy soup. And spicy soup is a NEW joy. I found spicy soup joy as i was following any little light i could out of the deepest part of my depression.

I never put hot sauce in soup before then. But today i am drinking the broth of a very spicy soup and as much as everything else is complicated and difficult and scary and dark, there is a bright mote of joy in this sip of spicy soup. And in the next one. And the next. I enjoy it, i love it, all the more that it is new, and if i had given up four years ago, i never would have known this small joy, this new favorite tiny thing.

Who knows what other little joys i may find?

If you have come to a place in life where you have lost the knowledge of how to feel joy, it is important to remember that feeling joy is like anything else in life. The more you practice, the better you get, the more of it you can do at higher levels.

And there are only so many minutes in the day. The more of them you spend acknowledging what feels good, the less of them will be left for feeling bad.

you can't escape the darkness by fleeing from it, but you can find the light by moving toward it.

Chop Wood Fetch Water

Another thing i learned was a truth about the exercise advice you always hear.

For where i am in my recovery now, common exercise has very little impact. I don't really get the endorphins people talk about, and i don't tend to feel better about myself after i work out unless i already feel pretty okay about myself to begin with. i don't mean to say there is no point in me exercising, but, i walk about ten miles a day holding onto 8 energetic dogs and i do a fair amount of lifting and bending and stuff for my job, and it's fine but it's not, like, doing a whole lot for me at this point in my recovery (tho i do think more recreational exercise will come back into play a stage or two on in my healing process)

HOWEVER

There was a year there where i was only getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. When i was only able to force myself to eat just enough each day to stay alive because i'd made a promise to myself, and that promise was almost all i had left.

and the right kind of exercise is what pulled me out of that.

the RIGHT kind.

See, someone close to me needed help with a physical job. That was an important part and why this method is known historically as some variation of Chop Wood Carry Water -- it's intensely physical, which is important, but also, it helps the people around you. These days our personal communities tend to not need wood copped and water carried the same way. But you can get the same effect helping someone move all their furniture, doing all the yard work for your friends and/or family, volunteering for a charity that builds housing for homeless people, SOMEthing physically taxing that helps people.

In my case, my aging father needed help re-shingling the roof. So i promised i'd help.

So i got up every morning because he was expecting me. And i climbed the ladder because he would see me if i didn't. And i lifted and carried and hammered and worked hard. It took a week of six to eight hour days.

Right away, the fact that it was helping someone else made it not matter so much that it didn't feel like it was helping me at first. I couldn't deny that i was doing something good, that my existence had positive meaning, however small.

But very soon, it changed something fundamental in my state of depression. You can't do physical labor in the sun 7 hours a day without drinking a bunch of water. Without working up an appetite. Without getting very tired at the end of the day.

See, i had been struggling to make myself drink enough water, i was fighting to make myself eat even one small meal's worth of food each day, and i couldn't get a good night's sleep to save my life. And these things all made my depression much much worse. You think you get sad or angry from skipping a meal, consider being chronically undernourished. You think your mental state is worse after pulling an all nighter, think about what never getting a good night's sleep does.

But a couple days into this job with my father, and suddenly i was hydrated, i was eating full meals, and i was sleeping soundly at night.

THAT is what pulled me out of that deepest part of my depression.

So in a way, it was exercise that saved me. But not how people often say "have you tried exercising?" More like pushing myself physically to the point that my body demanded the things that previously i couldn't get it to want for itself.

Instead of forcing myself to eat i was craving food. Instead of staying up to all hours and then tossing and turning, i was physically exhausted and slept early and hard. (and, weirdly, being physically exhausted was somehow a relief from being emotionally/mentally exhausted)

Lastly

Healing often isn't noticeable while you're doing it

"healing is a process" is something you hear a lot, but i think it's more helpful to say something like

"Healing is like growing your hair out from short to long. You can look in the mirror every day and not notice it happening. And even when you can tell for sure it's longer than it was, you still can't really do anything with it, and it may seem pointless. But then one day you can tie it back in a ponytail and you realize how much it's grown and how many options are open to you now and you're really glad you stuck with it"

Now excuse me while i go meditate on the joys of my remaining spicy soup.

[bunninophia]

Hi! I'm Bunny and I'm redesigning the whole cast for hazbin hotel

{PLS READ THE WHY SECTION BELOW}

Anyway.... Onto my designs! I'll be detailing the stuff I changed/added

First is.,..!! Sir pentious! Weird right? You would think it's Charlie but uh nah, he's my favorite character and I wanted to make him similar to my tastes.

Yes he is trans! I have a small little HC that the egg boys are his boys...

And he is much longer/bigger due to this because of sexual dimorphism! But we love him for who he is now he's so silly :). He also has a barbed tail that I would say is used as a 5th hand! To grab stuff. He already has 4 arms cause why not? He needs to push himself around already..

Next is.. Angel Dust!, he doesn't have an alt version because I feel it's not needed but here he is!

I added pedipalps, those are the mandible looking things. They are a part of spiders I think are so cool and I wanted to add them! Unfortunately they're not counted as legs and adding another set of legs to angel I couldn't figure out... But good enough!

I also changed his eyes! To include a spiderweb, I'm not entirely sure why he has that black eye, so I thought I would change it up a little bit.

A friend gave an idea that his sight from that eye is kaleidoscope-like so I'm implementing that too! And how could I forget! The spiderbutt! Without it it's kinda weird looking so I wanted to add it in cus it's so cute

Next up.... Husk! He's one of my favorite characters so.. kinda went all out on him

I didn't change much about him besides his patterns and colors, but generally his silhouette is the same!

I wanted to add a lot more feathers and fluff to him! And putting on the casino style bringing back the spades and hearts to his wings again!

I thought the spades were funny

Up next.. Vox!

I found his design interesting that he is a flat screen TV even though he died in the 50's? So I decided to change that! Turning him into a box TV again!

And giving him a cable tail, I thought it would be clever that when sleeps he charges himself up for the day!

Next up... niffty! She's the last character I've designed so far!

Also while looking up her historically accurate date I found out she's 22??? Weird... But yeah she did end up looking a little older here I'm glad, but I really wanted to give her a bigger needle! What's she gonna do with that small thing?

And her dress is based on 50's maid outfits! With the addition of an embroidered poodle!

.

Why?

Well first I'm crazy and second, I've been now made aware that the show itself does a certain type of representation so disgustingly that I'd rather make my own designs and fix what they couldn't do.

I don't support viv or the show.

If you want to read into it yourself I advise a trigger warning for S/A. It happens in episode 4.

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" Your eyes don't deceive you. He really is real. And an actual monster too, not just a 'weird looking dog', as those funny human legends say... "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts - T. Clover - C. Diamond - A. Trappola - D. Spade - L. Kingscholar - R. Bucchi - J. Howl - A. Ashengrotto - J. Leech - F. Leech - K. Al Asim - J. Viper - V. Schoenheit - R. Hunt - E. Felmier - I. Shroud - O. Shroud - M. Draconia - L. Vanrouge - S. Zigvolt - Silver

Messy design notes:

I have mixed feelings over his design. On one hand, the outfit itself looks cool... and on the other hand it turned out to be nothing like what I had envisioned in the beggining 😭 I wanted to stick with muted colors, in the vibes of that pic next to howleen's I guess, but it's like Ruggie's design had a mind of its own, and would always lean to more punk-looking no matter how hard I tried to avoid it, which don't get me wrong- punk style does fit him well, the problem is that I had it reserved for another character already, and I wanted to repeat themes as little as possible between entries of this project.. that just may be my perfectionist side speaking though, and there is no reason why I shouldn't post this version here for the time being! If I don't get tired of working on this series by the time I finish all the main cast's designs, then I suppose I could try to make an alternative version of Ruggie with a slightly different theme! I'd do the same with Jamil's entry since he is yet another character I have mixed feelings about the design lol

Aaaanyway, the mood for chupacabra Ruggie is grunge/thrifted fashion with diy details he would add to make his looks feel unique to him I think? The spikes on his skin, although he can partially control (?) them, still get stuck on cloth every now and then. Nearly all items of his closet are a bit torn from it, but he doesn't mind all that much. I got no particular designs for the pins and badges he wears, maybe except for the brazilian flag and the trans pin which I rlly wanted to include somewhere on his clothes whsdbdshewbdi

The chupacabra's appearance vary from place to place, but for this, I based his looks on how I personally grew up hearing and imagining this creature to be like! Baisically a fucked up looking dog, sometimes with spikes and scales on its body? Yeah 👍

And he remains the same personality-wise in the AU, pretty much! At the moment I can't think of many fun facts or character quirks for him, aside from how impossible it is to take a selfie with him, much to Cater's dismay. He swears he doesn't do it on purpose! The moment the camera clicks his body moves on its own to be out of frame. Ruggie's entire instagram (or whatever the monster high equivalent of that may be) account are either pictures of a moving blur or a vaguely distinguishable sillouette of him, taken from far away and zoomed in 10x

I think that's all I remembered to say? Here's a Ruggie core meme I found on reels as extra content lol

[shomixremix]

Dates they like ♡︎

okay so i just found out that in version 4.5 there will be an itto AND a neuvillette banner (christmas came early) so i will gt a chance to pull for neuvi and even though i already have c2 arataki, c3 can't hurt hehe

I'M SO EXCITED!! i immediatelly had to write something for the both of them!!

i'd love to hear some of your ideas so feel free to request!!

tags: Itto, Neuvillette, Thoma, Wriotheslay, female! reader, fluff, kissing, smut, overstimulation, riding, pussyeating

-> your boyfriend would love to spend time with you anywhere and doing anything, yet he does have his preferences on how to spend that time. all dates with you are always amazing, but there's always that one activity he likes the most.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI

-> itto

"itto! stop moving so much, you'll smudge them!" you exclaim as you paint the oni's nails. he stills immediately, watching as you paint his left thumb a beautiful, crimson color.

"sorry, love bug! i just wanted a kiss, sweets, you look so freakin' good and i need to let my baby know she's fuckin' gorgeous!" he exclaims through a roar, throwing his arms around you. you screech at him:

"ITTO! your nails!"

his eyes turn wide as he pulls his hands back quickly, giving you an apologetic smile.

"oh, shit, sorry baby! i'll be good, i swear, i'll stay still and quiet, i promise. oni's honor and word!"

you smile as your boyfriend really does keep his word and stills, allowing you to paint more efficiently.

"there, all done! want the gold sparkly top coat, hon?"

"uhh, duh! 'f course i do, baby! gotta be nice and shiny, like you, yeah?"

painting nails in the comfort of your home in inazuma city was always one of itto's favorite dates. with snacks prepared, you two would spend hours in each other's arms with you just painting his sharp claws. then, you'd let him paint yours - even though you would always have to fix them later. sometimes, when he would ask, you'd paint his horns, which you were pretty sure he only asked you to do so you'd sit on his lap.

"there! all done, babe! you like them, arataki?" you smile as he pulls you into his arms, twirling you around in the air like you were weightless.

"hell yeah, love bug! i love 'em! and i love you too, sweets! thanks for doing this f' me. now c'mere so i can kiss those pretty lips"

♡︎

one of his favorite parts of having freshly done nails, on both you and him, was how good they looked sliding against bare skin.

"mmm.. yeah, yeah! that's good, s' fuckin' good, yeah? yeahhh, you just keep on scratching your pretty little nails down my back, yeah, baby? shit, sweets... just like that, fuck!" he groaned into your skin as he fucked you into your matress. your arms roamed his big back and shoulders, gently caressing him with your newly painted nails. you left scratch marks, clawing at his skin with every hard thrust he pumped in you.

his own newly-painted claws slid down to the fat of your ass, greedily kneeding and squeezing everywhere. the sounds echoing of the walls of your bedroom are lewd yet make your mind spin.

"ohhhh, itto! itto, baby, feels so freakin' good! mhphh!" you moan as he fucks you like there's no tomorrow, his fat cock bullying that one spot inside you that made you see stars. your hands run to his hair, pleasantly scratching his skull with your messily-painted matching red nails. he groans at this, his hips stuttering as his pumps get sloppier.

"mmhh, fuck!" he mutters as he suddenly loses his composure and messily comes, fucking you through it with desparate little thrusts. he falls on you in exhaustion, enjoying how you still soothe him with your hands.

"mphhr, love bug.." he melts under your touches, still overly sensitive from his orgasm. you coo praises in his ear as you continue comforting him, his hands soothing your bare skin in return.

archons, he loves those nails.

-> neuvillette

"am i... doing this correctly?" he asks unsurely, gently gathering your hair in his palms and twisting it around.

"heh, no, love. you need to separate three strands and than braid" you say gently, sitting with your legs crossed just a little in front of him. neuvillette hesitates for a moment, still just gently petting your head.

"could you show me again, mon amour?"

you knew damn well that was just an excuse for you to play with his long, silver hair as you braid it. you still did it, of course, never the one to deny your boyfriend pets and cuddles. you knew that playing with his hair has always been one of his favorite past-time activities.

his long hair flowed against your fingertips like a river, strong and yet beautiful. you tangled your hands in it, massaging his skull a little. finally, you separate it in three thick strands and start gently braiding.

"mmm" he hummed, immensily enjoying your touches, "i must admit this hairstyle looks quite nice, mon cherie. you will have to do my hair everyday for court trails"

you chuckle, finishing his braid and tying it with a blue ribbon.

"sure, neuvi, if that's what you'd like"

you turn to face him, sitting in front of him.

"would you like to try now?"

he smiles, placing a feathery kiss on your neck as he removed your hair from it.

"sure"

♡︎

there were multiple reasons why neuvillete loved when you would play with or braid his long hair and when he would play with yours, and one of them was that he could pull on it during your love making.

"mhhhphhr.." you mewl as he's got you on all fours, pounding into you from the back and keeping a tight grip on your hair, which was braided messily by his inexperienced hands.

"mh, fuck, little one, you feel incredible.."

he'd hold onto your hair tight, thrusting hard and slow inside so you'd feel every inch of him. sometimes he'd pull you back by your hair, like a leash, you thought, but only when you move and squirm too much. then, once he pulls on it just enough to get you to arch your back and never too much to hurt you, he'd bottom out inside you and let out a pleasured sigh.

he really loved your hair.

but he also really loved you pulling on his.

when he was in between your plushy thighs, face buried in your folds and pleasuring you endlessly, you'd tangle your fingers in his soft hair and try to pull him closer but push him away in the same time from how good it felt.

"ahh! neuvi! ohhh, neuvi~!"

and when you'd finally finish with an ego-rising scream of his name, allowing him to taste all of your sweetness and squeeze him real tight, that's when neuvillette felt the greatest.

-> thoma

"welcome home, babe!" your boyfriend chirped as you entered your shared home, surprised to see a fully made dinner on the table.

"oh, hey, hon! what's all this?" you ask, setting down your bag and removing your shoes as you walk to him.

"nothing, i just thought to surprise you with a few of your favorite dishes! i finished all of my work early in the kamisato estate, so i thought i could do something nice for you!"

you throw your arms around the blonde's neck, kissing his cheek.

"aww, thoma, sweetie, you didn't have to!" he laughs and rubs his neck humbly as you praise him, big green eyes watching you take in the table filled with many delicious meals - including his famous rice cake soup.

"mmmm... this all looks and smells amazing! i can't wait to try it all!"

he smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"well you know food is my love language!"

it was true - more than anything, thoma liked showing you how much he cared for you through delicious meals he'd prepare for the both of you, when you could just eat and chatter the night away.

♡︎

even though he loved preparing you dinners to eat, he loved having you for desert even more. good lord barbados, you were the single most delicious thing he ever tasted...

"mmmphhh..." he moaned into your needy pussy as he ate you out like a man starved, physically unable to move. thoma was truly a pussydrunk man, addicted to the taste of your slick on his tongue.

you were spread out on your dining table with your legs far apart, with your boyfriend nestled between your slick-covered thighs that were now also covered in love-bites. your slick stuck to his chin as he ate you out, but did he care at all? no. no, he did not.

the taste of your folds in his mouth was far more important.

you couldn't imagine how much pleasure this was giving him - he could've came just by giving you oral, letting his dick make a sloppy mess of his pants even though untouched. impossibly hard and leaking precum like crazy, thoma tried releasing some of that tention by rubbing himself through his pants, whimpers and whines being sent from his mouth straight to your pretty cunt.

he sucked and sucked and kissed like you were his last meal, never wanting this to end and for you two to go to bed. actually, he did want to go to bed - but only because you'd be able to ride his face there.

and when the boiling hot knot inside you finally becomes too much and it snaps, thoma can't hold it in much longer. he greedily laps up all you give him like a dog in heat, overstimulating you as his tongue fucks way after you've already came down from your high. at the feeling of your cum in his mouth thoma comes as well, shooting rope after rope of white in his own pants, a little ashamed of the fact. his hips rut into the air as if he's trying to help himself through it or at least to stop - but he can't, he can't stop coming, not when you taste that good.

-> wriotheslay

"the weather is so nice today..." he hummed as he held your hand, lazily lounging on the checkered blanket.

as the duke of the fortress of meropide, wriotheslay rarely gets to go out and experience the warmth of the sun or the falling of the rain. which is exactly why outdoor dates were always his favorite - doing anything with you, his favorite person, while feeling the fresh air and the gentle breeze was his idea of best-spent time.

"sure is" you laugh, dressed only in your swimsuit as you lounge with your lover on a secret, deserted beach in the beryl region. it was always so private and quiet here, perfect for a couple desperately in need of intimacy...

"wrio, honey..."

"hm?"

"we should really do this more often... i missed having you like this..." you mumble in his skin as you lounge on his bare chest, pressing lazy kisses up his jaw and neck.

wriotheslay snickers, caressing your back with the tips of his fingers.

"i agree, doll. trust me, if i could, i'd never leave here, yeah? just you and me, forever..."

you sigh, reminded again how busy the both of you were. your boyfriend notices, getting up with you in his arms.

"wanna swim now, baby?"

♡︎

but when you return from the water, wet and your bodies pressed tight against each other, wriotheslay can't help but not sit you on his lap on your warmed blanket, sinking himself inside you inch by inch. once he bottoms out he lays back, one hand behind his head and the other holding your hip.

"you know what to do, doll"

you nod eagerly, your palms on his chest for support as you start to sink down on him hard and fast, trying to fuck yourself on his cock.

"there you go... ahh, fuck, baby..." he moans at how you take him and your chest swells in pride.

you whimper and mewl at how good he feels as his hands soothe your sides, comforting you from the slight stretch of his fat cock in your tight pussy.

"can't... wrio... too much..!" you complain with quivering lips, yet he doesn't make any effort to stop, bouncing you on his lap.

"shhh.... i know you can, doll, you've had me inside so many times, and it always fits. try a little harder, baby"

you give it your all to thrust back on his cock but nothing helps until he rolls his hips into yours, finally helping you. soon it all becomes far too much and you cry out, falling on his chest as you tighten and spasm around him while you come. wriotheslay quickly follows, filling you up untill you're shaking from the overstimulation in his arms.

something about outdoor dates, especially outdoor sex, drove him wild.

[mediaevalmusereads]

Baking Yesteryear. By B. Dylan Hollis. DK, 2023.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: cookbook

Series: N/A

Summary: A decade-by-decade cookbook that highlights the best (and a few of the worst) baking recipes from the 20th century

Friends of baking, are you sick and tired of making the same recipes again and again? Then look no further than this baking blast from the past, as B. Dylan Hollis highlights the most unique tasty treats of yesteryear.

Travel back in time on a delicious decade-by-decade jaunt as Dylan shows you how to bake vintage forgotten greats. With a big pinch of fun and a full cup of humor, you’ll be baking everything from Chocolate Potato Cake from the 1910s to Avocado Pie from the 1960s.

Dylan has baked hundreds of recipes from countless antique cookbooks and selected only the best for this bakebook, sharing the shining stars from each decade. And because some of the recipes Dylan shares on his wildly popular social media channels are spectacular failures, he’s thrown in a few of the most disastrously strange recipes for you to try if you dare.

***Full review below.***

Since this book is non-fiction, my review will be structured a little different from normal.

I've had this book for a while, but I didn't want to post a review before making a few of the recipes myself. I was already a fan of Hollis from his TikToks, so that might introduce some bias into my review - just so you're all aware.

Overall, I found this book to be quirky, easy to follow, and fun. I loved the bright colors and retro-feel to the photo shoots, and I appreciated that almost all of the recipes were accompanied by a picture of the thing you're supposed to be making. I also liked the blurbs written by Hollis himself; they very much felt like his voice, with his characteristic sense of humor balanced by his genuine love for baking and "old things."

Perhaps the most valuable part of this book, however, was the emphasis on lowering barriers to entry. I've read my fair share of baking guides that call for special ingredients or equipment, and there are a lot of recipes out there that are finicky and sure ton dissuade new bakers. Hollis's book, however, emphasizes that most (if not all) of these recipes can be done with basic tools - one does not even need an electric mixer (though it does make some recipes easier). There also aren't many fancy ingredients that aren't readily available at most grocery stores, so that also helps.

I do, however, have some minor criticisms which relate to the usability of this book. For one, the organization makes it rather difficult to find a specific recipe (or even category), particularly if you're like me and don't recall what decade it came from. While organizing the recipes by decade makes sense given the book's premise, it does make it more functionally difficult - you can't flip to the cake section, for example, and browse or put yourself within the general vicinity of the recipe you're looking for. Thus, readers will have to rely on either the TOC or the index a lot more, but this is a minor inconvenience rather than a huge drawback.

I also don't think the majority of the recipes are blow-your-mind good, but honestly, given this book's premise, I don't think that's the worst thing. The recipes are largely taken from sources aimed at home bakers, so you're not going to get professional-level pastries out of them. You will, however, get things that are fun and relatively simple to make, and they taste good enough to me that I'd consider making them multiple times.

TL;DR: Baking Yesteryear is a fine book for fans of Hollis's TikTok, but it goes beyond being mere merch. It not only provides historical recipes that are easy to replicate, but it also does a good job of lowering barriers to entry for new bakers. Experienced bakers might not be overly impressed by the recipes, but engaging with food history is a treat in and of itself, and it's delightful to see someone like Hollis engaging with the past with such enthusiasm and adoration.

[buckyalpine]

I was thinking about pregnant reader and bucky and I saw you wrote something already😂😅

I saw few posts where everyone finds out reader is pregnant before bucky and it honestly makes me angry 😒 it just irritates me. It's always they take one look at the reader and they all know. I just want at least once that bucky finds out first. Like if yn and Bucky were laying down and she asked bucky for some treats that she hid under the bed that she was craving (ofc bucky was on top of her😉) so he gets them and he starts thinking and goes to ask her like what she was craving, her boobs got bigger and what else happens... so in a few days while yn was sleeping he hears a heartbeat and so he gets a little but scared but no running! He starts talking to it and one day while they were cooking together, he asked yn what she thinks about getting married, moving in together babies etc. Maybe she has irregular period so she doesnt even notices (I usually skip few months even a year so ik I wouldn't notice if I got preggo 😂) so he tells her that she is pregnant and he can hear the heart beat so it goes to the tears and blah happy stuff. And when it gets to the dinner with avengers few weeks later she refuses cocktails and vine and when someone asks she is like well I AM pregnant and takes off her jacket just to see a small bump in a tight dress.

Prettyyyyy please with a cherry on top with whipped cream and a side dish to make this happen 🥺🙏🙏 I can even beg on my knees for this if you want

Babes, you do not have to beg when you come up with asks that speak to my weaknesses. Fuck, I love this so much, my whole heart YES.

18+ Minors dni  "Buck"

"Bucckyyyyyy"

"Buchanan!"

Bucky snorted, pulling away from where he was kissing your neck, your pouty face looking back at him.

"Can you pleeease get the chocolate covered pretzels I hid under the bed" You smiled sheepishly. It wasn't a secret you had a little stash of snacks hidden in various parts of the room. Bucky discovered that when he went to grab his Henley from the closet and found a bag of m&ms tucked away between his clothes.

"Really baby? Right now?" He playfully rolled his eyes, ignoring how hard he was, reaching over and pulling the bag out, watching your face light up, giving him grabby hands.

"Can't help it, I've been craving sweet and salty stuff all day"

"I'll give you something sweet and salty" Bucky wiggled his eyebrows while you smacked his arm, grabbing a pretzel and moaning at the taste.

"Perv"

"Never thought I'd have competition with a pretzel"

"Chocolate covered pretzel" You corrected, your eyes nearly rolling back, practically whining a the way the chocolate melted. He looked at you quizzically, he'd seen you have cravings before but never this strongly. He wasn't at all jealous a stupid sweet and salty snack craving had cut into his spicy cuddle time with you.

"What else have you been craving baby?"

You thought for a moment, naming a foot long list of colorful combinations and a disturbing amount of chocolate. Some of the foods you didn't even usually like...

You hummed contently after satisfying your craving, giving your attention back to Bucky. He gave you a devilish smirk, pinning you down on the bed, his boner against your panties.

"I'll give you something to actually moan about baby"

3 orgasms later 

You snored softly cuddled against Bucky's body, his arm wrapping tightly around you. He pulled you closer to him, his hand snaking up to cup your boob, his favorite way to fall asleep. They felt...fuller. Bucky gave your breast a soft squish, careful not to wake you. He had your boobs in his hands, his mouth, face face at least twice a day, they were definitely a little fuller. In fact, they’d felt a little fuller for quite some time. Hm. 

Over the next two weeks your cravings hadn’t ceased. He’d quietly restocked all your little stashes without telling you, noticing tiny changes in your regular routines. You slept a little more. You were a little more clingy (which he loved, carrying his little koala everywhere). You didn’t seem to notice anything, nor did anyone else but Bucky did. And he had an idea of what it could be. 

You were fast asleep, curled up in bed in nothing but one of Bucky’s t-shirts, while he gazed down at your tummy. It had to be it, right? He carefully shuffled down, gently lifting your shirt, glancing up at you to make sure you were still asleep. 

When he concentrated, Bucky was able to hyper focus on his sense of hearing, courtesy of the serum and all his assassin training. These were one of the few moments he was thankful for it. He laid his head on your belly, hearing the teensiest faint heart beat that he’d never heard before. He wasn’t a doctor but it all added up. Your cravings. The ever so slight softness of your body. How your boobs were fuller. Bucky’s heart and mind raced at the same time. Would he be a good father? Would his baby love him? He’d dreamt of this moment before but now it was actually happening. 

"I know your in there" He whispers, narrowing his eyes at your belly. “Mommy might not even know yet, but I do” Bucky’s eyes flick up to you when you stir slightly, but remain asleep. “We’ll talk later, mama needs her rest” 

Bucky carefully pressed a soft kiss to your belly before coming up and holding you again, his heart fluttering because even though he was a little scared, this was everything he ever wanted.

It became a regular occurrence. Bucky always made sure you were fast asleep before laying his head on your tummy, quietly talking to the little peanut in your belly. 

“Do you care to explain why you make mommy crave ice cream at 3AM” Bucky whispered, rubbing his tired eyes after getting you some Ben and Jerry’s in the middle of the night. You’d fallen asleep immediately after, a content smile on your face. 

A number of conversations had taken place that month. 

“Mama doesn’t need chocolate covered oreos”

“Do you have daddy’s super hearing? I hope so, other wise I’m talking to myself” 

“I understand the ice cream, but the potato chip sandwich was a little weird today, don’t you think?”

“You’re going to be chunky, mommy going to keep you more than well fed” 

The entire month, Bucky couldn’t peel his eyes off you, your boobs were a little more plump and they were only going to get bigger. His cock got hard thinking about how gorgeous you’d look, pretty full breasts, your little one drinking from you....

Him drinking from you.      

“She’ll keep me well fed too” 

*****

“Y/n?” Bucky’s arms wrapped around your tummy, his head resting on your shoulder while you stirred some pasta, “What do you think about getting married?” 

“Hmm, I’d say if someone asked me” You giggled, pecking a kiss to Bucky’s nose, not noticing him nervously shuffling behind you, completely abandoning the garlic bread he was making. 

“Would you want to move in with me? Permanently?” 

“I already basically live with you Bucky, but it’d make it easier if I moved all my stuff over. Might as well” 

“W-what about having babies?” 

“I’ve always wanted to have two” You smiled to yourself, thinking about your dream family with little Bucky’s running around. 

“With me?” He whispered, a part of him worried you wouldn’t want that with him, given his past. You put the spoon down, turning to look at him while he bit his lip nervously. Your hand cradled his face, tracing over his scruffy beard. 

“Of course with you Bucky, why would you doubt that?”

“Are you sure?” 

You nodded, looking at Bucky curiously while his heart raced, he’d never asked you these questions before but you figured he should have already known the answer would have been yes. 

“Why are you asking me all this baby?” 

“Because...” Bucky hesitated, while you looked up at him, urging for him to continue. “You’re pregnant baby” 

“H-how do you know” You whispered, your heart racing, melting into Bucky’s arms while he held you close to him. You didn’t have your period for a while but you figured it was just coming later than usual. 

“I can hear the babies heart beat. When its really quiet, usually when you’re asleep” 

Your breath hitched in your throat while Bucky kneeled in front of you, kissing your tummy, tears streaming down both your faces. 

“I’m pregnant?” 

Bucky nodded, standing again so he could cradling your body close to his, kissing you all over. You wrapped your arms tightly around him, your heart full. 

“You’re pregnant angel, my sweet baby”

A few weeks later 

“C’mon, are you sure you don’t want any?” Nat smirked, taking a sip from her wine. You’d just arrived after your date with Bucky, the both of you joining the team for dinner afterwards. You shook your head, while Bucky smiled, kissing your temple.  

“I can make you a cocktail” Tony suggested, but you shook your head again. 

“Why not” Wanda pouted but you giggled, bouncing on your feet, clinging onto Bucky’s hand. The team eyed you both curiously while you took of your jacket, a series of screams and cries erupting seeing your little baby bump under your dress. 

“Cause I’m pregnant” 

Bucky grinned, his hands cradling your tiny bump while everyone enveloped you both in a giant hug. 

“I call God father!” 

[mintys-playarea]

RUGGIE B. W A DUNCE! PLAYING! LOVER!

You had no idea how you were able to get a man such as him to fall in love with you. He was clever, sweet, a great cook, and an absolute cutie... Ruggie was yours and you were his!

You had many flaws. You weren't very smart, you had tendencies to mess with people... The list could go on. Yet he still loved you.

It was a cool, autumn day. Warm colored leaves fell from trees, leaving the courtyard a blend of reds, browns and oranges. There were plenty students walking and talking happily along with one another, the smell of pumpkin spice wafting in the air. Though you were relatively uninterested before... A particular student has caught your eyes. It was none other than the Azul Ashengrotto walking around, promoting his most recent sale for the Mostro Lounge... This was the perfect opportunity.

The leaves crunched beneath your shoes as you tapped his leg, your icy cold hands sneaking up his pant leg and touching his warm calf. He shivered with a loud yelp, immediately turning around to find no one there. You were hiding behind a nearby tree. You weren't hidden well of course, but Azul couldn't see you. He shook his head, sighing and brushing it off as the wind. As he continued to promote the sale, you snuck up on him again. You tapped his leg the same way as before, except... You weren't fast enough this time. He kicked you and hoisted you up with stern eyes.

"Do you understand how disrespectful you are?!" Azul screeched. He clearly disliked getting his legs touched like that.

You sputtered trying to come up with an excuse, panicking as you see the Leech twins starting to come into view. You squirmed as Azul held still and started walking.

"Excuse me boys, but may you help hand out flyers for me as i return this rascal to their owner? They were very disrupting to me, we wouldn't want that happening with to another," Azul had a slight pout as he continued walking. He muttered something to himself quietly before going into the Savannaclaw mirror.

Leona sighed as he saw Azul waltz up to him. "And how am i responsible for the herbivore??" He said with a tired look.

"Well, aren't they always over here? I'd assume it's because they have something with you?" Azul responded, almost annoyed with the fact he had to speak with Leona.

"No... You'd have to find Ruggie. He's— Right here," Leona groaned before returning to his room.

"Oh, hey there Az! Whatcha doin' here? And why do ya got lovebug there?" Ruggie commented on you being carried by Azul like a critter he finds dirty.

"I found.. er.. Lovebug messing with me during my promotion for the new Mostro Lounge sale... So you're the one taking care of.. this thing?"

"Aye, they're person, you know! Not just a 'thing.' But yes, i am in charge of taking care of Lovebug."

"I'll just hand them over already... You should really keep a watch on them. They're probably going to cause a big problem if you dont." Azul shook his head before leaving Savannaclaw finally.

"So... Lovebug, what was that about?"

You pulled out a to-go box of fresh food. Food you stole from Azul. A goofy smile spread across your face.

"Ahh... I see! I've trained you well... You deserve a treat for that!" Ruggie smiled along with you, bringing you into the kitchen.

"I know ya may not be tha brightest sometimes, but you're a sneaky lil' thang fo'sho! Here, ya wanna help bake some cookies to go with that meal?"

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

TAGS!!: @cheezy-moon

A little note on how the tagging system works:

If I know you like a character and I end up writing for it, I'll tag you in it (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

Also, I have no clue what to put for name replacements so... I'll just do pet names! :D also I wanted to keep this in second person, but I kept it gn when I had to use the pronouns (*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀*⁠)

I also forgot how the mirrors work (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) and I gave ruggie a special way of talking! I like writing him speak like that :3