#more like sketch friday for me

[emily-mooon]

Nothing to see here, just a 1960s Jancy sketch.

[magicwhiskers29]

Happy Flora Friday! (I'm cheating a little bit again with this -- I guess this could kind of act as a cover for In your rearview mirror, see...)

[sun-cube]

it's literally 6am dude i could NOT fall asleep after reading @uhohbestie's newest chapter (16) of TAMN are you kidding??

[glitch-pep]

Milo Intro

[Character info is under the cut.]

Milo is a character that would've been in Making Fiends ever since the web series. He'd also be present from Season 1 of the Nickelodeon show and onwards.

Milo is one of Clamburgs unfortunate residents, and also Maggie's brother.

Maggie and Milo have the same, depressing world view, but they choose to cope with it differently. While Maggie does it through writing poetry, Milo does it with a different form of writing.

Jokes! Writing jokes, to be specific.

Before Vendetta took over Clamburg, he had the dream to become a comedian. But due to the strict rules that Vendetta implemented, he's unable to make jokes.

Why? Because they make people laugh.

And Vendetta hates any form of happiness that isn't her own.

So, now he only makes jokes that are more depressing/concerning than funny, so that they make no one laugh.

That would also be his main role in the show:

Saying dark humor one liners that flew over the heads of the little kids that were watching.

He's making the most out of what he can have.

...even if it has 20 layers of sarcasm coated around it.

He's pretty much just in a bad/tired mood in general, and always pessimistic, ready to point out the downside of any situation whether it's necessary or not. His comments tend to drain people, and they make them question things too much for their own good. Even when he may not mean any harm, he's always got this intimidating and strict aura around him that causes most people to dislike him, but they still take him seriously.

One gag regarding his character is that he's surprisingly lucky. Vendetta's attacks usually miss him, no matter how precise she may have initiated them. Thing is, at this point he doesn't care anymore. He'd usually just sit completely still as something flies by him at max speed, his only reaction being to take another sip of his coffee.

On the subject of coffee, he's a coffee addict. Most of his scenes include him with a cup of it, sometimes he pulls it out of thin air, which is another gag.

While his role in Season 1 and in a hypothetical Season 2 isn't very prominent, that'll change in hypothetical Seasons 3 and 4, since his role would change from background character to antagonist.

Here's the transparent versions of the drawings:

[sanchoyo]

I’ve always been interested in things like choose your own adventure stories or when community polls choose what happens in a story. Tbh I would love to write one (I know there’s a way to do this on ao3, the choose your own adventure part not the poll one as far as I’m aware) it’s just a matter of 1. Making time to do it 2. Deciding what story/fandom to write it for 🤨

[number44newseries864962]

Need to rant for a minute because even though I have very much been enjoying the fruits of my efforts learning how to sew vintage style clothes, I just swapped out old fatphobia (nice plus size vintage clothes never making it to stores) for new fatphobia (trying to find patterns). Cause it doesn't end at what clothes you're able to buy already made.

I finally bought a Friday Pattern Company pattern the other day, and man it made the bare minimum feel like I was being spoiled. The sizes go up to 7X (that's XL, XXL, 1X, 2X, etc, so there's 9 sizes above L) they had a thin and a fat model on the cover! Usually I'm barely lucky enough to get an XL, and I'm just expected to guess how it's going to look on my body. The majority of their patterns have two differently sized models on the covers, and all of them have that full range of patterns inside.

It is so hard to find good plus size patterns, even if they're available, many companies just scale up their mediums and I can't guarantee they're actually sized correctly for a different shape. As good as Friday is, them and other modern indie pattern companies aren't easy to find.

Okay well what if I went another step deeper, what if I forgo patterns all together and decide to be completely independent and draft things myself?

Then I'll need a plus size dress form. I got lucky and found one at an antique mall for 50$ but these are incredibly rare and more expensive than smaller ones. I'll need to learn how to draft patterns, something that was taught to me on a XS form by my college and nearly every tutorial out there. Drafting close fitting clothes for fat bodies is a completely different skillset, because all that extra fat is much squishier and shifts more. Measuring yourself correctly and getting the shape you're looking for is far more important. Before I even got there I'd need to sketch out what I wanted to make, right? Well the patterning book my family got me only shows you how to draw tall, skinny people. A beginner would have to look up their own drawing references and tutorials because what what supposed to be a super accessible beginner's guide to fashion has decided their body isn't normal enough for the baseline tutorial.

We're expected to be the ones who put in the extra effort. Digging to find the pattern companies that fit our shape and actually prove they can, paying extra in shipping or driving farther to pick them up. Having to search specifically for plus size tutorials for drafting and sketching. It's always treated like it's not part of the beginner's experience to be working with a fat body, that's just going to make people more frustrated and lost and less likely to pursue something they're excited about! Especially if it's in response to already being frustrated about the lack of clothing options.

We need a little positivity to this post so to end on a high note, here's me modeling the blazer I just finished with a shirt I made a couple years ago!

Being able to finally wear clothes I really feel like me in has been an amazing confidence boost. It's not fair that there's so many roadblocks in the way for someone who looks like me who just wants to wear things they enjoy.

[earlysunshines]

fall is for falling (for you)

newjeans (unnie line) x fem!reader ; fluff!!!!!

synopsis: separate autumn themed oneshots with newjeans unnie line bc i saw a pile of leaves the other day ; 2k special!!

warnings: puuuurre fluff ; making out kinda ; nothing else that i can think of ; anything i didn't mention ; sorry to the readers that don’t have fall / experience a diff season atm it’s basically autumn for me :-P or maybe i’m getting ahead of myself it’s still like 20+ degrees

a/n: THANKYOU FOR 2K WHATTTTTT THE HELL!!! idk how to structure this and it's different from the usual looong fics LOL idk smth different for this crazy milestone THANK YOU!!! i can't believe this is real... i can’t express my gratitude enough… two gazilliontrillionbillion subscribers... in just over a year... i can't believe this... THANK YOU! enjoy :-D

ALSO new user whatsUP! :-p

kim minji - pumpkin carving

minji hears the door creak open but doesn't bother to look up; she already knows it's you. she braces herself, expecting you to burst in dramatically like always: groaning loudly, tossing your bag onto the rug, and collapsing onto the couch next to her with a tired sigh. but instead of the usual commotion, she notices the absence of a familiar thump on the couch, no tired exhale signaling your arrival. 

she peeks up, only to find you grinning with a large pumpkin cradled in your arms, your eyes bright with excitement. 

“what’s this?” minji asks, eyebrows furrowing as she pulls off her headphones, glancing away from her laptop.

“it’s a sweet potato, what do you think?” you tease, your tone playful as you reach over and close her laptop without hesitation, sliding it to the side. “c’mon, it’s friday. pleeease help me carve it?”

she pauses, eyes narrowing slightly as she meets your gaze. you tug gently on her wrist, the warmth of your hand lingering on her skin, and she can feel the heat rising to her cheeks. her resolve wavers, and she sighs, tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek. 

“fine.”

minji doesn't regret agreeing, not when your face lights up like that. the way you smile makes her chest feel warm, a flutter she wishes she could escape.

you both set up at the kitchen counter, and she watches as you rummage around, grabbing all three knives you both own. 

(there used to be just one—a medium-sized knife—but you insisted on buying more. what if there were small things to cut? or bigger things? the two of you have argued over countless trivial things you own, but somehow, she always ends up letting you have your way. maybe it’s because she secretly adores you, not as subtly as she thinks.)

you put on a playlist that jumps all over the place; first, it’s sza, and you hum along, lost in the melody. then a city pop track comes on, the abrupt change making minji raise her brows. your taste in music is unpredictable, like a rollercoaster, every song a surprise. but minji never complains. she loves how you sway to the music, singing softly as you sketch a face on the pumpkin with intense concentration. 

and for a moment, she forgets about the essay she has to write, the deadline, the weekend. all she sees is you, the soft light catching the curve of your smile, and it's enough.

–

an hour passes, but it feels like only seconds.

you and minji have been carving away, scooping out the pumpkin’s insides as she grins at the way you squirm with every handful. when she slips out a soft “cute,” your face heats up instantly, but neither of you says anything more. you assume she’s talking about the face you’ve drawn on the pumpkin, but all of you hopes it’s you she’s referring to.

you sneak glances at her from time to time, drawn to the way her hair falls loose from its tie, her glasses slipping down her nose, and her tongue peeking out in concentration. you reach over to push her glasses back up, and her hand slips—almost cutting herself. you laugh, but your heart is racing inside your chest.

the kitchen table is a mess. pumpkin guts and seeds are scattered everywhere, a few strands of orange pulp hanging off the edge. you’re both standing side by side, spoons in hand, breathless from laughter.

“this is the worst pumpkin carving attempt i’ve ever seen,” minji declares, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist, unknowingly smearing pumpkin across her skin.

“you mean the best,” you counter with a grin, scooping out another stringy handful. “it’s a masterpiece in the making.”

she rolls her eyes, but you catch the smile she tries to hide. “if by ‘masterpiece,’ you mean ‘disaster,’ then yeah, sure.”

you nudge her shoulder, still laughing. “hey, it’s not that bad! we just need to… appreciate its unique aspects.”

minji laughs like a dork, you love it—bright and loud—making your chest warm. “fine, but if this pumpkin ends up looking like a troll, i’m blaming you.”

“i’ll take full responsibility,” you joke. “besides, it’s already got your eyebrows.”

she gasps in mock offense. “excuse me? my eyebrows are perfect, thank you very much.”

you snicker and turn back to the pumpkin, but your eyes keep drifting to her. she’s leaning in close, focus intent, tongue poking out slightly as she carves a crooked smile.

it’s hard to concentrate with her so close. something about this feels different—more intimate, more charged.

(and it doesn’t help that you’ve found her attractive ever since you barged into the apartment while she was moving boxes, almost knocking over her stuff.

it also doesn’t help that your crush on her has only grown. english nerds were always a little dorky and cute to you.

or maybe it’s just minji. minji, who you used to bicker with about her loud music or her sudden screams in the middle of the night over some game.

it definitely doesn’t help that you like minji a lot.)

she catches you looking at her, and for a moment, the room goes still. her eyes soften, and your cheeks heat up again. she quirks an eyebrow. “what are you staring at?”

you shrug with a grin. “nothing, sorry. you just look stupid, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks deepens, and your heart skips a beat.

minji finishes the smile on the pumpkin and steps back, hands on her hips, looking at it with a satisfied grin. “done! would you look at that…”

the pumpkin is… well, it has a crooked smile, one eye bigger than the other, and a nose that could pass for a potato. it’s perfect.

“it’s amazing,” you say, and you mean it. not because of the pumpkin, but because of how proud she looks, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed from laughing.

she turns to you, and for a moment, you’re just smiling at each other. then, almost without thinking, you reach up and brush a stray pumpkin seed from her hair.

she blinks, startled, her breath catching. “uh… thanks,” she mumbles, her cheeks darkening to a deeper pink.

“of course,” you say softly, your hand lingering in her hair a moment too long.

the air thickens, something unsaid hanging between you. you’re about to speak, but then minji’s hand is on your jawline, and her lips are on yours.

it’s short, barely a few seconds, but in the last half-second, you start to process it and try to kiss back. but before you can properly reciprocate, minji pulls away, her hand flying back like you’re something hot to the touch.

“i’m so sorry,” she stammers, looking mortified. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. it’s just you looked really good, and i couldn’t help myself, and i’m so sorry, i should’ve—”

you lean in again, cutting her off, capturing the rest of her mumbled apology with your lips. she relaxes into the kiss, her head angling slightly to make it more comfortable, her hand resting on your waist. she pushes you gently against the counter, her body close to yours.

when the need for air becomes too strong, you both pull away, breathless. you look at her—her eyes still half-lidded, cheeks flushed deep red, and you can’t help but giggle, hiding your face in your shoulder to mask how flustered you are.

you just kissed your roommate, and she kissed you back, pulled you closer by the waist, tasted like orange flavored lip balm, smelled like lavender and something floral.

“holy shit,” you mumble, half-laughing. “we just kissed.”

“y-yeah.” minji’s voice is small, almost disbelieving. “did you like it?”

“minji, you’re so cute.” you pull back to look at her, smiling as you smooth her hair. her glasses slide down again, so you take them off and set them on the counter beside you. you twirl a strand of her hair around your finger, teasing her, and she looks like she might melt on the spot.

her hand slides to the back of your neck, making you shiver, and she leans back just enough to murmur, “i’m assuming you did.”

“good observation,” you say, rolling your eyes.

she laughs, her fingers pressing slightly into your skin, and your knees feel a little weak. “so, do we keep carving pumpkins or…?”

you grin, pulling her closer. “we could… make out a little more on the couch instead? if our lips go numb, then… movie?”

minji’s smile is bright, her eyes soft. “i like that idea.”

hanni pham - a hoodie for the seasons changing

hanni walks along the inside of the sidewalk because you decided when you were eleven that it was better for her to be farther from the street, less at risk. even now, a few weeks into your last year of high school, you still keep her on the safe side. it's just one of those things you do without thinking. it’s an unspoken rule between the two of you, so hanni hadn’t thought twice about the way you pulled her by the arm to push her on her designated side.

(she did think twice about how firm your grip was, and how you had your hand on her. your bigger, stronger, nicer hands.)

with the weekend ahead, you both agree there’s no better plan than crashing at your place after school on a friday. your hands brush against each other as you walk, but neither of you say anything. you never do; never have, not about the little things, like the shared smiles, the secret glances, the quiet laughter. instead, you let yourselves enjoy the moments, bask in the warmth that fills your chest each time.

you make it to your house, then up the stairs until you two are in your room. you immediately find hanni's sweatpants in your closet — the ones she left behind last time because she’s at your house more than half the week. you'd washed them with your clothes on laundry day, because it would’ve been rude not to. you toss them to her along with one of your t-shirts. “go change,” you say, nudging her toward the bathroom with a grin.

"hey!" hanni groans, swatting your hand away as you poke her side, making her jump. “you’re so—”

“just hurry up and change so we can relax on my bed. you know how i feel about outside clothes…”

she rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that tugs at her lips, watching the little crease form between your brows from the annoyance. it’s cute, she thinks, even if she’d never admit it. she closes the bathroom door, locks it, and starts changing. her sweatpants fit the same — they’re hers, after all — but your t-shirt hangs loose and oversized on her. it’s soft against her skin, and smells like your detergent and jasmine and peaches, like you. her heart races a little. 

she catches her reflection in the mirror and notices how the shirt falls around a fingers length past her waistline. it’s not like she’s drowning in the shirt, but it’s definitely a size or two larger; you’re taller and more muscular, which happens to be her type — a fact she’s noticed a little too much for her liking. she feels a flutter in her chest, a mix of nerves and something she doesn’t want to name, then quickly shakes it off, rolling her shoulders like she can physically push the feeling away.

she takes a breath, tugs at the hem of the shirt once more, and steps out of the bathroom, trying not to think about how much she likes wearing something that belongs to you.

when she steps out a few minutes later, she finds you on your bed with your legs spread out and hands up to hold your phone. you’re in plaid pajama joggers and your dad’s old university hoodie, you look comfy and snug, you look adorable.

she jumps on your bed, landing beside you with a bounce. the mattress shifts, and your phone slips from your grip, smacking you square in the cheek. hanni laughs at the sight.

“hey!” you groan, shooting her a playful glare.

“loser.” she mutters, reaching over to mess up your hair. “scoot over, you’re hogging the whole bed.”

“whatever.” you roll over, patting the space beside you. hanni shuffles closer, pulling the blanket over both of you. your arm naturally slips under her neck, and she nestles in, the top of her head resting against your chest.

“comfy?” she can hear the smirk in your voice.

“yeah.” she replies softly, though her heart races. 

neither of you ever comments on the way you always end up like this, close and tangled up in each other. the term is ‘cuddling,’ but if either of you were to call it that, you’d probably cringe, cheeks flushing with an embarrassed heat neither of you could ignore.

hanni grabs her phone, opening instagram. she scrolls, her breathing evening out as she likes every animal video and taps through every story. you watch her through half-closed eyes, feeling a calm settle over you. your other arm drapes over her waist, your breathing slowing, growing heavier. 

she doesn’t notice at first, too engrossed in her phone. but when she switches to the camera, she catches a glimpse of your nose nuzzled in her hair, your eyes fully closed. she zooms in to confirm the soft snores she hears, then grins, quietly snapping a picture. she shifts, turning the camera on herself to capture both of you together.

for a while, she stays like that, tucked in your arms, watching an episode of a crime show she’s gotten hooked on. her head tilts at an odd angle, but she doesn’t mind. you’re asleep and warm beside her, and that’s all that matters.

three episodes later, she checks the time and realizes over an hour and a half has passed. somewhere in that time, you’ve pulled her closer in your sleep, murmuring something she can’t quite make out. her heart stutters each time your hand shifts against her waist, your fingers brushing against the fabric, the only layer away from her skin.

her stomach growls softly, breaking the quiet, and she decides it’s time to wake you up. turning over, your faces are inches apart, and she stops, taking a moment to just look at you. then, she leans back slightly and snaps another picture before reaching to poke your cheek. when you don’t stir, she pinches instead, shaking your shoulder lightly.

you groan, turning away from her. “five minutes… please.”

“c’mon, sleeping beauty, i’m hungry…” she sighs, her tone teasing.

“five minutes.” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. “just five more…”

hanni sighs dramatically, then tries a new tactic. “i’ll pay if you get up right now. anything you want from the convenience store.”

you crack one eye open, barely, squinting at her. you roll over, sprawling into a starfish position. “fine… but five minutes, okay?” you plead, clinging to her leg.

hanni laughs softly at the warmth radiating from you, her resolve weakening. she runs her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp gently until five minutes turns into ten, then fifteen. finally, she nudges you awake, and the two of you head out, still in your cozy clothes.

as you walk to the convenience store, staying close, hanni steps on a leaf that crunches underfoot. “wow, it’s already fall,” she murmurs.

“well, obviously.” you tease, only to get a kick to the back of your knee. you nearly stumble, catching yourself with a laugh. “what the hell?”

“you suck.” she grumbles, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“you suck more,” you retort, nudging her back.

“whatever.”

you smile at her, and she catches it from the corner of her eye. she nudges you away again, but you keep staring, unable to help yourself. “you’ve gotten really pretty, you know?”

“are you saying i used to be ugly?” she laughs lightheartedly, expecting a playful response, but instead, you surprise her.

“you’ve never been ugly.” your voice is softer, more sincere. “you’ve always been pretty.” then your voice gets quieter, “gorgeous.”

there’s a pause, both of you walking in silence for a moment. you kick a small rock forward, and it lands by hanni’s feet. she kicks it ahead, breaking the quiet. “thanks.” she says, feeling your eyes on her but not daring to meet your gaze. “you’ve always been cute too, ever since we met in fifth grade.”

“oh.” you whisper, looking up just in time to see the store ahead — a small savior from the tension that’s thickened the air between you. you clear your throat, trying to shift the mood. “i can’t wait for my free dinner.”

hanni pushes you playfully, and you pout, making her wish she could capture the expression and keep it forever.

you two head inside, and hanni visibly relaxes as the warm air greets you. she hadn’t mentioned how chilly it was outside, even though she could’ve easily put on her jacket. part of her had hoped, maybe, you’d notice and offer her your hoodie instead.

both of you wander around the store for about ten minutes, emerging with a pork bun and a sweet tea in your hands, while hanni clutches a sweet pastry and a can of soda. instead of turning back towards your house, you keep moving forward, hanni trailing just behind you. 

the route is familiar. it’s the path down to the little stream where you and hanni have shared countless secrets, talking until the sun dips below the horizon. tonight feels like one of those nights, perfect for sitting on the favorite bench you two have claimed as your own, watching the sunset as it starts a little earlier than usual.

you kick a small rock into the stream, watching the ripples spread out, and catch hanni shivering slightly in the corner of your eye as she takes a small bite of the sweet potato-filled bun. 

“can you hold my stuff?” you ask, extending your hands. hanni hums in confusion but takes your things without hesitation.

she watches as you stand up, pulling off your hoodie. her eyes linger on the way your long-sleeve shirt lifts slightly, revealing a hint of your torso, the lean muscle just barely visible in the fading light. she catches herself staring and quickly looks away, cheeks warming. you fix your hair casually before draping the hoodie over her lap.

she furrows her brows, looking up at you. “what?”

you glance down at the hoodie, then back at her. “put it on.”

“why?”

“because you’re cold.” you shrug, sitting back down beside her and taking the food and drinks out of her hands to set them down. you grab the hoodie again and pull it over her shoulders, tugging it down until her head pops through and the hood falls over her eyes. “better?”

she mumbles, “you didn’t have to.”

“it’s getting colder. i’m fine like this.” you reply, pinching the fabric of your shirt before reaching out to adjust the hood over her forehead, smoothing down her hair. a small smirk tugs at your lips as you add quietly, “besides, i know you wanted my hoodie anyway.”

she nearly chokes on air, her cheeks burning. “i– i didn’t! you’re so–”

“you look better in it anyway,” you chuckle, turning back to face the stream. you sneak a bite of her pastry, the playful smile on your lips growing.

hanni huffs but doesn't protest, her fingers curling into the sleeves of your hoodie, a smile sneaking onto her face despite herself.

she looks at you fondly, biting the inside of her cheek, before crossing her arms and turning her gaze to match yours. your hoodie is thick with your scent, and hanni feels like she could drown in it. without realizing it, she scoots closer, and you instinctively wrap an arm around her.

hanni can’t hold back anymore.

“y/n.”

“yes?”

“the fall dance is really early this year.”

“yeah, it’s next week. i feel like i’ll breathe and it’ll already time to get ready for it.”

“do you have a date?”

you scoff, shaking your head with a small laugh. “you know i’ve never managed to get a date for that. we always end up going with yunjin’s group anyway. are you teasing me for not having one?”

hanni chuckles, leaning even closer against your side. “maybe a little.”

“do you have a date?” you ask, glancing down at her.

“no.”

“you know, i overheard jay’s friends talking. sounds like he might ask you out.”

hanni cringes at the thought of jay, the guy from her statistics class who never stops staring at her. his crush on her is painfully obvious, and he always finds an excuse to talk to her or get her attention.

but the truth is, hanni's always wished you’d be the one to ask her to the fall dance, but you’re oblivious, always a little clueless.

“y/n,” she tries again, voice soft.

“yes?” 

“we should go to the fall dance together.”

“yeah, i was thinking that too. should we go with yunjin’s friend group again? jimin also asked if we wanted to–”

“no,” hanni interrupts, pulling away from your arm, and looks at you seriously. you tilt your head, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. she meets your gaze, but quickly looks away, suddenly feeling too exposed. “i was wondering if… well— ugh.” she pinches the bridge of her nose, then takes a deep breath and blurts out, “we should go together, alone, just us. we don't have to actually go to the dance, I know we just went out in the city last time and crashed at yunjins place and we can just do whatever you want to! i don't really care i just want to be with you becauseilikeyoualotand--"

hanni pauses before finally getting to her point. "i want you to be my date, y/n."

your lips curl into a sly smile, and then you laugh.

hanni's face is a mix of confusion and anxiety, her mind racing with uncertainty at your reaction. 

“took you long enough,” you say, grinning wider now. “i was going to ask you out, but i wanted to see if you had the guts to do it first.”

“asshole!” hanni groans, shoving you away. she turns her face to hide the deep flush coloring her cheeks. “i take it back.”

“no, you don’t.” your arm tightens around her, pulling her closer again, and you use your free hand to gently tilt her face towards you, fingers brushing her chin. “i’m not going to let you.”

her breath catches when your eyes flicker down to her lips, then back up to her eyes.

“w-was that a yes?” hanni asks, voice small, almost uncertain.

your fingers drop from her chin, and you lean back slightly against the bench. both of you are moving closer, almost unconsciously, drawn together by the tension. she feels her eyelids flutter, and you tilt your head, leaning in just a bit more.

“if i kiss you, would you take that as a yes?” you whisper, eyes focused on her lips.

hanni’s voice is barely audible as she murmurs, “mhm,” giving you the green light. you lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to her lips. she melts into it, feeling every nerve ending come alive in those few seconds. you pull back just enough to take in her flushed cheeks, the warmth of the autumn sun casting a soft glow over her face.

“i’d love to be your date, hanni,” you say softly, smiling as her face breaks into a relieved grin.

danielle marsh - apple picking

danielle stands beside you, her eyes bright with excitement as she takes in the familiar sight. she's wearing a pair of denim overalls over an old, oversized sweater that you know belongs to her dad, her wavy brown hair clipped up to keep loose strands from framing her face.

the apple orchard stretches out before you, rows of trees dotted with red and green apples glistening under the golden afternoon sun. you and danielle have been coming here every fall since you were kids, but this is the first time you've managed to make it back since starting college. the sunlight feels warm against your skin, but it definitely makes her shine brighter, even in the cool crispness of fall.

she grabs your hand, slipping her fingers into yours without a second thought, and pulls you down the path toward the orchard's entrance. you grin at how eager she is; being here together again fills you with a deep, comforting warmth. being around danielle always does that to you, really. 

a friendly man greets you at the entrance, handing you a basket and asking if you have any questions. you both shake your heads, and he gives you a cheerful smile, wishing you good luck.

it’s peak apple-picking season, so naturally the orchard is filled with families, couples, and groups of friends, all scouring the trees for the best apples. there’s a little worry in the back of your mind that the good ones might already be gone.

“so many people,” danielle breathes, a little awestruck. “i wonder if we’re too late.”

“we’ll be fine,” you assure her, squeezing her hand lightly. “when have we ever gotten a bad apple? even the green ones end up sweet.”

“maybe that's because you always pick them~” she teases, giving you that playful smile that always makes your stomach twist and turn. you hate it a little, but you love it more—especially the way it makes your cheeks heat up.

“you're so— ugh.” you look away, trying to hide the way she flusters you, but you tug her hand, pulling her along.

you wander a bit farther down the path, away from the crowd. danielle’s eyes light up when she spots a tree heavy with apples. she lets go of your hand, darting forward, studying the branches.

“this one’s perfect,” she says, reaching up on tiptoe, fingers just brushing a particularly shiny apple.

you watch her struggle for a moment, biting back a laugh. “need some help?”

she glances back, trying to look serious but failing. instead, she gives you her signature pout, the one that makes you melt everytime you see it. “i guess i could use a little help,” she admits.

you move closer, setting the basket down. “hop on,” you offer, patting your back.

she giggles before jumping onto your back, her laughter bright in your ear as you steady her by holding her legs. she reaches up, plucking the apple from the branch with a satisfied hum. "got it!"

“nice catch,” you say, lowering her back to the ground.

she turns to you, cheeks flushed from the thrill of the simple task, still holding the apple. “i’ve got my own personal apple-picking assistant,” she teases, nudging you.

“not free of charge,” you joke, smiling at her. 

her happiness is contagious, and you're more than willing to let it take over the afternoon. 

(and really, your whole life—but maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself.)

“but always happy to help, miss marsh.”

you and danielle spend the next couple of hours wandering through the orchard, picking apples, laughing, and reminiscing about the times you’d done this as kids. you remember danielle’s dad lifting you up on his shoulders when you were too small to reach, and the time she accidentally knocked one of your teeth out with a misplaced apple throw. her laughter fills the space between you, and more than once, she climbs onto your back again, her hands on your shoulders, her face so close you can feel her breath on your neck. it’s nerve-racking, but much more heart warming.

as the sun starts to dip, the air cools, and you catch danielle stifling a yawn. “getting sleepy?” you ask, watching her rub her eyes the same way she used to when you were younger.

"maybe a little," she admits, yawning again, trying to blink away the sleepiness settling in her eyes. "but i don't want to leave yet. this is too much fun."

 really, she doesn’t want the day to end at all. spending time with you like this feels like the good old days, back when things were simple and easy, and danielle would do just about anything to stretch it out a little longer. she's always been whipped for anything involving you, for every shared laugh, for every time your shoulder accidentally brushes hers. she knows she would spend every minute she has left doing nothing but this, being with you, if she could. it's been harder lately—with college and schedules pulling you both in different directions, with classes, work, and life taking up so much of the time she used to have with you. the thought makes her chest ache a little, makes her cling to this moment even more tightly, like she could hold on to it forever. 

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she adds softly, her voice barely above a whisper, almost like she’s talking to herself more than you. “since we just got to be like this.”

“yeah,” you agree, a touch of something bittersweet in your smile. “way too long.”

her fingers brush yours, almost like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she doesn't hold on, her hand still warm from holding yours all afternoon. “i wish we could do this every day,” she sighs, her tone playful and smile warm, but it makes her heart ache a bit.

you feel your heart squeeze at that, at the honesty in her voice, and you reach out, squeezing her hand in return. “me too,”

for a moment, you both stand there, just holding hands, feeling the weight of all the missed moments and the sweetness of the one you’re in now. the orchard is quieter now, the sun sinking lower, casting everything in a soft, golden light. you think it makes her look even more beautiful, like she belongs in a place like this, caught between the sunset and the apples and the way her smile seems to light up her whole face.

“anyway,” you clear your throat, breaking yourself from your trance. “we’ve been here for hours, dani,” you chuckle. “it’s okay if you’re tired.”

“okay, maybe i am tired,” she says, shoulders slumping. “fine, let's head back.”

“it’s an hour drive anyway, maybe longer with traffic,” you point out, pinching her cheek just because. “you can sleep in the car.”

after paying for your apples and accepting a free mini apple pie from the cashier, you head back to the car. you hold her hand with one hand and carry the bag of apples with the other, feeling content as you walk through the fading light.

at the car, danielle settles into the passenger seat, her eyes fluttering shut as soon as you start driving. you glance over at her, peaceful and serene in sleep, her lips slightly parted. she looks so pretty under the soft glow of the streetlights that you can’t resist taking a quick picture when you reach the nearest stop sign.

you drive quietly, letting the soft sounds of her breathing fill the car. when you arrive at her house, you unbuckle her seatbelt carefully, brushing your fingers over her skin in the process. she murmurs something in her sleep, but doesn’t wake. you gently lift her out of the car, cradling her against your chest. she instinctively wraps her arms around your neck, holding on like she doesn’t want to let go.

getting inside is a bit of a challenge; you end up going through the gate to the backyard. once you’re inside, you lay her down gently on the couch, intending to pull away, but she tightens her grip around you. “no, y/n… stay,” she mumbles.

your arm moves around her, instinctively pulling her closer, and you can feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing against you, her body fitting perfectly into the curve of yours. she smells like apples and cinnamon and the orchard and what it feels like to be a child and filled with adoration. it fills your senses, making you feel like you’re wrapped up in everything that feels good and familiar.

your fingers continue to gently massage her scalp, and before long, your eyes grow heavy, and you drift off with her beside you, feeling completely at peace.

—

you aren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when the creak of the front door makes you stir. your eyes flutter open to a blurry room, the dim light barely catching on the edges of furniture. you blink, trying to sit up, but danielle’s weight is still against you, her face tucked into the curve of your neck, her breaths soft and steady. 

a quiet voice breaks the sleepy haze. “well, look at that.”

you blink harder, clearing your vision to see danielle’s parents standing in the doorway, looking amused. their expressions are soft, eyes twinkling with the kind of knowing that makes your cheeks flush. you shift slightly, attempting to move, but danielle’s hold tightens, her face burrowing deeper into your neck, refusing to let go even in her sleep.

“hi,” you manage, voice thick with sleep, feeling the warmth creep up your face. “we were just… she fell asleep in the car, and i didn’t want to wake her.”

danielle’s mom smiles gently, eyes creasing at the corners. “you two look comfortable. did you have fun at the orchard?”

“yeah…” you murmur, still a little groggy, the day’s warmth lingering in your chest.

danielle’s dad chuckles, his gaze softening. “she’s hanging on like a little bear,” he says with a grin. “reminds me of when you two were kids, falling asleep in the backseat. she’d twist herself into the strangest positions, and you always seemed to make room for her.”

of course you did, you always made room for her, whether that was in the backseat of her parents’ car, your mind, or your heart.

you feel your cheeks get hotter, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. you glance down at danielle, her face still nestled into you, and it strikes you how natural it feels, like this was always how it was supposed to be.

as her parents quietly make their way upstairs, you lean back into the cushions, fingers absentmindedly brushing through danielle’s hair, the strands soft against your skin.

“y/n?” her voice is a soft mumble, barely more than a whisper. “are my parents home?”

“yeah,” you say softly, feeling her shift slightly.

“mhm... can we stay like this?” her voice is slurred, on the edge of falling back into sleep.

“whatever you want, dani.”

“okay,” she breathes, then after a pause, “hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“thanks for today,” she sighs, her words sleepy and warm against your neck. “i love you.”

the words make your heart swell, and maybe it’s the sleepiness or the quiet of the room, but you find the courage to press a soft kiss to her forehead, even if it means twisting awkwardly. you close your eyes, letting yourself relax into the moment, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

“i love you too danielle.”

[skeltnwrites]

happy friday the 13th lovelies! i have a similar friday the 13th themed steve drabble i'll try and finish tomorrow 0.5k words

“I think my tattoo is cursed,” Eddie grumbles from the kitchen table behind you. 

“I told you that place was sketch, Eds.”

“I made sure everything was clean! It was a good deal,” he whines like a child might– in this mumbly sort of way that he only does when he knows he fucked up but wants your consolation. 

You turn, abandoning the pot on the stove to lean against his chair. Eddie pokes at his wrist where pale skin has darkened into an angry shade of red. 

The tattoo was not your favorite choice to begin with. Jason’s hockey mask from Friday The Thirteenth– A random Halloween-themed, half-price piece of flash from a gumball machine. It’s slotted between the bats and the crease in his elbow, clunky and clashing art styles with his other ink. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, Eddie doesn’t even like the movie, he was just too embarrassed to chicken out once he pulled the piece of paper out of the machine. 

“Does it hurt?” 

He shrugs, “A little. Mostly just… like tingly, I guess?” 

“Itchy?”

“No, not itchy. Just feels weird– different than usual.” 

You tug his arm up to eye level. The ink twists and swells along some lines, as if a funhouse mirror has warped the image, distorting it into something you probably wouldn’t recognize if you didn’t already know what it was. 

“Probably infected, babe.” 

He reels his arm back in and deflates with a sigh. 

“Eddie, don’t– don’t pick at it,” you swat his fingers away before they can reach. “The ink won’t heal properly.” 

“It already isn’t healing properly,” he pouts, a weak glare attached. You cock your head, dissecting his expression, but his irritation softens into something else. Eddie presses his forehead into the meat of your upper arm. “I should’ve listened to you.”

You card through the knots in his hair, biting back an I told you so. 

“You can always get it covered up. Maybe it was just a different type of ink or something? An allergy.” 

“No, you were right about that guy. He was strange; gave me the heebie-jeebies as soon as we walked in. I think he did some fucked up, witchy voodoo magic shit on me.”

“Oh?” 

“He was all quiet and pale, like sickly pale– and his hands were fuckin’ freezing. Maybe he was a ghost?”

“Wouldn’t be the craziest shit we’ve seen,” the corners of your lips rise as you loop a curl around your finger. 

“Or Gandalf? With that beard. That’s what I thought when we walked in– I mean, if Gandalf was a tattoo artist, I’m pretty sure that’s what he’d look like,” he chuckles. 

You snort, because you thought the exact same thing, which has Eddie laughing twice as hard. And you can’t find the time to be embarrassed when your favorite pair of eyes are creased with glee and beam at you with more love than you can carry. 

When he settles, you hum. “So we’ve narrowed it down to a witch, a ghost, or Gandalf?” 

“Yeah, what do you think?” 

You hunch over the chair, angling his chin towards yours. “I think a kiss might break the curse.”

“Oh yeah? Like sleeping beauty?” 

“Exactly,” you whisper before pressing a slow kiss to his lips.

[hauntingrabbits]

Happy Batman day! Went back and finished the last batch of the MLP AU I had sketched way back in May.

Part 1, Part 2

More info under the cut!

Enigma/The Riddler (Edward Nygma)

Intelligence and puzzle-solving are deeply valued among sphinxes, and those who fall short of their standards are often ridiculed and cast out. Among some (prejudiced) Sphinxes, other sapient, non-Sphinx species such as ponies are looked down-upon or seen as fundamentally inferior for not putting as much stock in puzzles and the like as sphinxes do.

Enigma, though considered a prodigy for his remarkable intelligence and skill with puzzles even among his fellow Sphinxes, was ostracized when a pony unfamiliar with Sphinx culture (a younger Sundown traveling Equestria for his training), humiliated Enigma by unraveling a puzzle of his that was meant to be judged as his final submission in a prestigious event, permanently staining his reputation and wounding his massive ego.

After years of quiet ridicule from his peers and his own growing obsession over the event, Enigma eventually snapped and fled to Gotham for revenge. His contempt has since spread far beyond that of the original pony he wished to prove his superiority over, and he now makes all of Gotham the target of his obsessive schemes, constantly trying to prove his superiority and feed his ego by putting ponies through his elaborate puzzles and riddle-based traps. He sees Batpony’s skill and determination in foiling him as both an inherent challenge to and a slight against his own abilities, reminding him far too much of that original pony from so long ago. 

Other notes:

-Apparently sphinxes in MLP have pony heads instead of human heads which makes sense I guess but it threw me through such a loop man.

-Whilst traversing the wiki I ended up with the same problem I had with chimeras in the first post where only one ever shows up in the series and there's no other info on them. So I made stuff up again.

- I imagine Sphinxes live a very long time, so the event Enigma was embarrassed at would probably take a long time to roll around again and he'd be forced to stew with his anger and wounded ego for far too long. I'm not sure what the puzzle was exactly or how Sundown dismantled it, but I imagine he did something extremely simple that a Sphinx would never have thought of (a la that software engineering joke), making it feel far more unfair and humiliating than if he'd solved in the intended way.

-His naturally crooked tail settles into the shape of a question mark, and the pattern on his arm is meant to look like a stylized question mark wrapping around his forearm (the "dot" is the white of his paw).

2. Miss Friday (Miss Tuesday)

Enigma’s teenaged assistant, Miss Friday seems to be the only pony the sphinx enjoys (or perhaps simply tolerates) the company of. Beyond her having met Enigma in Tartarus during their simultaneous imprisonments, the exact origins of her relationship to and exceptional status with her boss are a bit of a riddle in of themselves. Regardless, the two seem to have something of a mutual understanding, and Miss Friday’s mental prowess and dubious moral code are more than a match for Enigma’s own.

Other Notes:

-Yes this is a "The horse's name was Friday" joke. I'm sorry it was just too good to pass up.

-Miss Tuesday already sounded like a MLP name, but the horse named Friday thing was just too perfect for somebody who works under a guy who's whole thing is riddles. Also I relistened to the BTAA episode where she's introduced while coloring her and I noticed they reference His Girl Friday several times, so fun coincidence?

-The candy-striped leg patterns are based on her canon costume's striped pants & are meant to mirror the Riddler's wrapped leg pattern. The dark patterns on her face are supposed to be reminiscent of eye bags.

3. Mania (Bat-Mite)

Bat-Pony’s self-proclaimed biggest fan, Mania is a Draconequus embodying the spirit of obsession. Normally he watches the hero from his own dimension, but at times he tries to insert himself into the narrative or help Sundown fight, both to varying degrees of success. Though he genuinely adores Bat-Pony, Mania is usually more of a hindrance than a help, and can even be directly antagonistic at times when his obsession goes too far. 

Other notes:

-Similar issue to Chimeras and Sphinxes, only two Draconequuses (Draconequui?) show up in the series, one being Discord (embodying chaos), the other being a comics-only villain known as Cosmos (embodying malice), but honestly what little we're given worked super well for the character anyway. Discord seems to come from his own unique plane of existence/dimension and Cosmos has similarly strange origins; both have penchants for causing mischief with incredible reality-warping powers; and both embody non-physical concepts. Bat-Mite being a reality warping 5th dimensional creature obsessed with Batman was surprisingly easy to adapt.

-He has the head of a pony, a ferret-like body, two front rat paws, mite antennae, an insectoid wing, a bat wing, a pigeon foot, a chevrotain (mouse deer) foot, and a monkey tail. I tried to have him mostly made up of animals that were very small, seen as mischievous, and/or seen as pests.

4. Poison Ivy (Pamela Isley)

Said to be more plant than pony, Poison Ivy is the self-proclaimed princess of the Green. Though once a regular Earth pony, she began to spiral after receiving her cutie mark and fully coming into her powerful natural attunement to plant life. Fleeing into the nearby forests on the outskirts of Gotham, she wasn’t seen again until many years later when Gotham’s city refurbishment and expansion efforts began to encroach on the forests borders, where she reemerged with strange new powerful magic and retaliated violently.

Though she isn’t recognized politically or physically as an alicorn, plants grow from the flesh of her body in the pattern of a horn and wings characteristic of those born into or bestowed with royalty, and the strange natural magic that accompanies them seems to almost rival that of a true alicorn’s.

Other notes:

-I dont really have anything to add to this one I just thought a false alicorn would be a cool concept.

-the whole alicorn royalty thing is very strange to think about isnt it? I feel like the ruling class having such insane amounts of physical and magical power probably has much more pressing ramifications than ever was, would, or should be addressed in a kids show but they are fun to think about.

-Her actual name is Poison Ivy, yes. It sounded like a pony name. I don't know what that says about her parents.

-The leaf wings are folded down in the graphic but I think they are flighted, or at the very least useful for gliding and expressing emotions.

5. Saltbrine (Oswald Cobblepot)

Short, stout, and flightless, Saltbrine’s moniker of “The Penguin” has its origins in the taunts of his peers from his youth. Though the title has persisted into the current day, it’s often spoken with far more fear and trepidation throughout the alleys and backstreets of Gotham than ridicule. Saltbrine owns two of Gothams most well-known businesses, one being the luxurious, high-class Iceberg Lounge…and the other being the organized crime syndicate the former acts as a front for.

Other notes:

-Again don't have much to add to this one. One of my favorite designs though, I love the giant beak face.

-The bird half is actually based on a puffin, because a penguin felt too on the nose for Oswald and too strange for a hippogriff (I couldn't get the wings or face to look right at all either). I feel like the title being an insult works a little better if he's not literally half-penguin.

-he's the same color my club penguin avatar used to be (RIP)

[angelbwrry]

sex for dummies part 2. eren j. 2.7k. part 1

cw୨ৎ nsfw link, kissing, fingering, creaming, squirting, dirty talk, female oral, praising, cervix kissing, clit overstimulation, black reader, lowercase intended . . . am i forgetting anything? oh, in which eren fingers your pussy. . . a little too good:) minorssssss nottttt alllowed!

perfectly arched eyebrows knit together across your forehead, the pink pen clutched tightly between your fingers as you tried to decipher the mess of equations in front of you. eren’s handwriting was a chaotic jumble of loops and lines, almost as if he had scrawled them in a hurry without a second thought. frustration bubbled up inside you, your lips pressing into a thin line as you struggled to make sense of the numbers and symbols.

the room was silent except for the occasional scratch of your pen against the paper and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. each tick seemed to echo louder, a constant reminder of the dwindling time you had left to prepare. you could feel the pressure mounting, a heavy weight settling on your shoulders. no matter how hard you tried, the concepts just wouldn’t click. it was like trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.

a deep sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back in your chair, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. the thought of failing the test loomed over you like a dark cloud, threatening to shatter your dreams. you could already imagine the disappointed looks on your teammates' faces, the whispered conversations behind your back. the fear of losing your spot on the cheer team gnawed at you, adding to the sense of dread that had settled in your chest.

“rome wasn’t built in a day, ʚ♡ɞ,” eren speaks up, his voice breaking the silence as he repeatedly tosses one of your stuffed animals in the air and catching it with ease. he’d been so quiet you forgot he was even here. you breathe deeply, pulling your legs into your chest, trying to focus. it’s sunday, and you weren’t able to study with him yesterday since he was busy. yeah, you’re definitely fucked.

“i am so cooked.”

you’re pulled from your thoughts as you feel his warm body behind you, and you can’t help but hitch a breath. ever since friday night, eren had been secretly plaguing your mind. the way he’d kissed you, held you, all of it sent your mind into a flurry. you chalked it up to your raving hormones. besides, if it wasn’t for him being so good at math, you probably would’ve never talked to him. so why is your heart racing so damn fast when he’s simply just standing behind you?

“here, let me work a problem out for you. i’ll write down the steps and you’ll follow.” his voice is soothing, deep and almost hypnotic. one hand is placed flat on the desk, steadying himself, while the other wraps around you, sketching across the lined paper. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, and his scent—clean, with a hint of something musky—is practically smothering. it didn’t help that he’d shown up in yet another tight compression shirt, leaving little to the imagination. his large hands make your pen look like a toy—they’re so big . . . snap out of it.

eren gives you the pencil to try a problem next, his fingers brushing against yours as he hands it over. "okay, so let's go over this one more time," eren hums, leaning over the table further to point at the problem on the worksheet. "remember, you need to find the derivative of this function first, and then you can apply the chain rule."

you nod, your brows furrowed in concentration. you take a deep breath and start working through the problem, your pen moving quickly across the paper. you can feel the pressure building inside you, the fear of making a mistake gnawing at your confidence. your mind races, but you push through, determined to get it right. eren watches you closely, ready to step in if you need help, but also giving you the space to figure it out on your own.

after a few minutes, you stop and look up at him, your eyes wide with excitement. "i think i got it!" you exclaim, your voice filled with hope and a hint of uncertainty. please let this be right, you think, your heart pounding in your chest.

eren smiles, taking the paper from you to check your work. his eyes scan the equations, and he feels a surge of pride as he realizes you got it right. "you did it!" he says, his voice full of genuine happiness. "you got it right!"

your face lights up with joy, and before you can stop yourself, you throw your arms around him in a jubilant hug. "oh my god, thank you so much!" you squeal, your voice muffled against his chest. "i couldn't have done it without you!" you feel a wave of relief wash over you, the tension melting away.he laughs, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close for a moment. "i'm so proud of you," he says softly into your hair, his voice warm and sincere. "you’re working so hard, and it’s paying off."

you pull back slightly, your face still glowing with happiness. your eyes meet, and for a moment, the world seems to stand still. he reaches down, his thumb gently brushing across your lower lip, his touch soft and tender. "can i kiss you?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. is this really happening? you wonder, your heart skipping a beat.

your heart skips a beat, and you nod, your eyes never leaving his. "yes," you whisper back, your voice trembling with anticipation. this feels like a dream, you think, your mind spinning.

he leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to change your mind, but you don't. it’s a soft, tentative kiss at first, but when you kiss back, it deepens, becoming more urgent. before you know it, you’re both on the bed, the precalc problems forgotten as the moment takes over, his hands exploring, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“i guess it’s time for your second lesson, fingering,” you mutter breathlessly against his lips, your voice quivering with a mix of excitement and nervousness. the intensity of the moment is almost overwhelming, as it’s hard to ignore the way your core throbs with anticipation, feeling him pressed firmly between your legs. his piercing green eyes lock onto yours, and in that instant, you swear you could melt at his touch, the heat of his gaze sending shivers down your spine and making your heart race uncontrollably. he simply nods, a silent yet powerful agreement, before his lips capture yours hungrily.

as he begins to undress you, his hands move with a deliberate slowness, each touch more electrifying than the last. his fingers trace the outline of your body, lingering on every curve and dip, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake. the fabric of your clothes seems to melt away under his touch, and with each piece that falls to the floor, the tension between you grows more palpable. his lips never leave yours, maintaining a connection.

the sensation of his hands exploring your skin, combined with the heat of his kiss, overwhelms your senses. his touch is both gentle and possessive. every brush of his fingertips sends sparks of pleasure through your body, heightening your awareness of every little movement, every breath, every heartbeat.

you wanna cry out when his cold fingers pull open your legs, taking in the sight of you. you’re so damn perfect, your pussy is the prettiest one he’s ever seen. his breath hitches as he gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. the way your arousal seeps from your shivering cunt makes it clear that you’re aching for his touch. the anticipation is almost unbearable, each second feeling like an eternity.

eren isn’t a professional, but he’s learned a few things from porn sites and his friends. he’s eager to put that knowledge to use, to make you feel every bit of pleasure you deserve. his large hands grip your soft brown thighs, holding you in place. you’re so damn thick it drives him crazy, the feel of your flesh beneath his fingers sending waves of desire through him. he marvels at your curves, at the way your body responds to his touch.

he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. his fingers trace delicate patterns along your inner thighs, teasing you, making you shiver with anticipation. he loves the way you react to him, the way your body trembles and your breath hitches. every touch, every glance, heightens the intensity between you, making the moment almost unbearable with anticipation.

his lips find their way to your skin, placing soft kisses along your thighs, moving closer and closer to your core. the sensation is almost too much, your body arching towards him, desperate for more. he takes his time, savoring every moment, every reaction. he wants to make this unforgettable for you.

“eren!” you breathily whine,finally, his ring and middle fingers find their way to your pussy, gently parting your folds. the sensation is electric, sending shockwaves through your body. you can’t help but moan, the sound filling the room, mingling with the sound of your heavy breathing. he’s mesmerized by the sight of you.

he begins to explore you with his fingers, his touch gentle yet deliberate. he’s learned a lot, and he’s eager to show you just how much he knows. his fingers move with precision, finding all the right spots, making you gasp and moan with pleasure. he loves the way you react to him, the way your body arches and your breath quickens.

“such a pretty pussy , you’re so warm.” he can’t help but let out a moan himself as he fucks your pussy gently, cock twitching as he watches your greedy pussy grasp at his fingers.

"p-please, t-touch my clit!” it's hard to form a coherent sentence as he thrusts into you, his large fingers pressing against your cervix with a relentless rhythm. eren obeys without hesitation, his mouth moving sloppily against your sensitive bud. his lips and tongue work in tandem, exploring every inch of your pussy with fervor. he's not entirely sure if he's doing it right, but the way you’re chanting his name, your voice filled with raw desire, and the way your fingers are tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, he guesses he must be.

the taste of you is intoxicating, a perfect blend of sweetness and saltiness that drives him wild. he can’t get enough, his tongue lapping at your clit with an almost desperate hunger. you feel every flick, every swirl, each movement sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body. your legs tremble uncontrollably, your back arching off the bed as you try to press yourself even closer to him.

“oh my goddd,” you moan, your voice a mix of a whimper and a gasp, as eren’s pace quickens. his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you steady as he thrusts deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

eren’s mouth never leaves your clit, his tongue working in perfect harmony with his thrusts. he sucks gently, then harder, alternating between soft flicks and intense pressure. your hands claw at the sheets, your body a live wire of sensation. you can feel the tension building, a coil tightening deep within you, ready to snap at any moment.

“mm, look at you creaming on my fingers,” his eyes glisten with a mix of admiration and desire as he watches the thick substance build at the base of his fingers. “didn’t take you as the messy type,” he chuckles, his voice low and teasing. he’s clearly enjoying the sight and feel of you.

he continues pushing his fingers inside of you, the slick wet sounds filling his ears, shlick, shlick,shlick spurring him on, his movements becoming more confident and deliberate. you’re a complete and utter mess underneath him, your body trembling with need and pleasure.

he had asked you for guidance, yet it didn’t seem as if he needed it. personally, he thought he’d fuck up because he wasn’t sure what to do at first just had an idea, but now he seemed to have found his rhythm. his fingers curl inside you, finding that perfect spot that makes you gasp and arch your back. each movement is precise, calculated to draw out the maximum amount of pleasure. he watches your reactions closely, his eyes never leaving your face, taking in every expression, every moan, every gasp.

“you like that, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. he can feel you tightening around his fingers, your body responding eagerly to his touch. he adds another finger, stretching you further, his thumb brushing against your sensitive clit the sensations are overwhelming, your mind going blank with pleasure.

“yesyesyes mm’fucking yes!”

his other hand roams your body, caressing your skin, tracing patterns on your thighs and stomach. he’s completely focused on you, on making you feel as good as possible. his fingers move faster, the wet sounds growing louder, mingling with your moans. he’s relentless.

“eren, i’m so close,” you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling with urgency. the words seem to ignite something in him, his movements becoming even more frantic and determined. he growls against your clit, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body, making you sob with pleasure. his desire to see you squirt drives him, and he places a firm palm flat down on your pudgy stomach. he remembers reading somewhere that this can help him access a woman’s g-spot from the outside, and he’s eager to see if it works.

tears prick your eyes as he continues to fuck you with relentless precision, an unfamiliar but intensely pleasurable sensation building in your stomach. instinctively, you snap your legs shut, the overwhelming feeling almost too much to bear. but eren’s palm smacks against your thigh, making you yelp and quickly open them again. “keep your legs open, pretty,” he commands, his voice rough with desire.

you nod shakily, trying to comply despite the intense sensations coursing through you. “ah! fuck!” you whine, your voice breaking as you feel the pressure inside you reach its peak. with a final, desperate thrust of his fingers, you begin to squirt, the release so powerful that it drenches the bed. eren watches in awe and satisfaction, his eyes locked onto the sight of you coming undone beneath him.

his fingers don’t stop, continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. your body trembles uncontrollably, your mind a haze of ecstasy. eren’s touch is both gentle and demanding, coaxing more and more from you until you’re completely spent, your body limp and quivering.

as you come down from your high, eren’s fingers finally slow, then stop. he pulls them out carefully, his eyes never leaving your face. he brings his wet fingers to his lips, tasting the evidence of your release with a satisfied grin. “you did so well,” he murmurs, his voice softening as he leans in to kiss you gently. you’re left breathless, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you can’t help but smile at the look of pride and affection in his eyes.

what the fuck.

you didn’t even know you could squirt.

“ready to get back to studying princess?”

chile. did eren even really need a lesson for this? he ate down. as always, likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, bye babies 🫧

[pnghoon]

his muse

NISHIMURA RIKI [니키] ── 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

୨୧ pairing : !nonidol artist !riki x insecure fem !reader ꒰wc : 1.3k꒱

୨୧ genre + content warnings : fluff, mild angst, themes of mental health, insecurities, not proofread.

୨୧ synopsis : in which the talented artist in your art class uses you as his inspiration for his next art project.

writer's note ─ guys look who's in her writer era rn...(pls don't kill me i'll post a bot as soon as I can (っ◞‸◟ c) anyways is this cringey..bffr. this was a little rushed, but if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡

every monday, you sat in the very back corner of the art class, hiding behind your sketchbook like it was a shield. it wasn't that you disliked people—it was quite the opposite. but after years of feeling like you didn’t quite fit in, you’d become more comfortable with the quiet company of your own drawings.

the art room was a sanctuary for your overactive mind, the smell of pencils and paint grounding you as you buried yourself in your sketchbook that seemed to never be seen not in your grasps. art was your escape, a way to calm the swirling doubts and insecurities that threatened to overflow. it was a safe place, a world where you controlled the narrative, where the flaws you saw in yourself could be erased with a few gentle strokes of an eraser.

across the room sat riki with his easel, eyes flicking between his canvas and you. you never noticed his gaze, too wrapped up in your own world of ink and charcoal. riki, however, had noticed you from the very start. he was the star of the art class, his talent and charisma shining brightly, while you preferred to stay in the shadows, content with your obscured invisibility.

it all started with a simple sketch. riki's eyes would wander to the corner of the art room where you sat regularly, quietly perfecting your sketches. he couldn't help but be captivated by the way you looked—the natural beauty you seemed to obtain. looking at you was like a breath of fresh air to riki, and before he knew it, he began to absentmindedly sketch you in his notebook. his pencil danced gracefully across the pages adorning his sketchbook, capturing the rarity of your smile that, when it did appear, could light up the entire room. he detailed how your soft hair framed your face perfectly and the way you seemed lost in your world of unique sketches.

as the days went by, riki found himself increasingly drawn to you, basking in your presence while also capturing your essence on paper. your every move, every subtle expression, only encouraged him to continue drawing you, each sketch more intricate and heartfelt than the last. and as the days continued to fly by, those graphite drawings were transferred to big white canvases, riki’s gentle hands preciously stroking lines of perfection on the pristine surface as his project started to slowly come to life.

as another monday approached, the school’s art class gathered in the same art room, plagued with the smell of paint and the sounds of chatter. you were working on your own project when riki approached you, a charming smile tugging at his lips and his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“hey, i was wondering if you’d like to come to my art show next friday. it’s going to be at the gallery downtown.”

you blinked up at him, surprise evident on your face at the sudden question. "me? are you sure?" you practically blurted out, your eyes glancing around you like you were checking if it was really you he was asking.

"of course," he said without a single stutter and a simple nod. "i’d really like you to be there y/n."

your heart fluttered, and you found yourself reluctantly agreeing before your insecurities could convince you otherwise. the rest of the week passed in a blur of nervous anticipation. your mind would often wander to why riki would invite you out of all people to his art show. he was a great artist, but he wanted you specifically?

no matter how hard you tried to push the curiosity to the back of your mind, you often found yourself lying in bed at night, thinking about it. so to keep your mind busy without the thoughts of the approaching art show, you drew. you drew until the erasers on your pencils were worn down to thin layers of rubber. clearly you found solace in your drawings, using your skills to sketch out your worries and fears, finding a strange comfort in the activity.

the day of the art show arrived, and the gallery was filled with stunning artwork. your mood was already down when you glanced at yourself in the mirror before you left, feeling a bit of distaste for how you looked in the outfit you were wearing. you were already late as it was, so you knew you wouldn’t have time to change. luckily, you knew that the sight of new art pieces would bring your mood up.

you wandered through the displays, admiring your classmates' talents, but your mind kept drifting back to that nagging topic that seemed to not want to leave you alone: riki's invitation. what had he created that he was so eager for you to see?

when you reached riki's section, your breath caught in your throat. there, among his vibrant paintings, was a series of drawings that unmistakably depicted you. drawn with such delicacy, riki’s spread captured you in every piece, the lines and colors bringing out a beauty you never saw in yourself. you stood in front of them, stunned, a mix of emotions swirling within you.

“do you like it?” riki's voice broke through your thoughts. he stood beside you, his eyes searching yours for a reaction.

“riki, this... this is me,” you whispered, stumbling on your words a little as you tried to process the hand-painted pieces in front of you.

he nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. “yes, it is. i wanted to show you how i see you. you're beautiful, even if you don't realize it.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, a mixture of embarrassment and admiration swirling inside you. “all those times you were so focused on your canvas in class...they were all dedicated to me?” you spoke out, shock and hesitation evident in your voice as your eyes scanned every line and detail on the painting.

“but… i never knew you were drawing me,” you said softly, your gaze averting to the ground for a second to hide the way your cheeks were dusted a light pink.

he laughed lightly, watching your gaze falter from him for a moment as he nodded his head. “i didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. i wanted to show you how incredible you are, through my eyes.”

you listened to his explanation, unsure of what to say at that moment. you desperately wanted to thank him, to tell him how much this meant to you. but the lingering thoughts about the way you looked and the idea of others seeing you in his art held you back. soon enough, your self-doubt bubbled up once more, making you look away. “but...why me? there are so many more interesting subjects—i’m just...me.”

riki paused for a moment, before gently taking your hand, his touch gentle yet grounding. “exactly. you’re you, and that’s what makes you amazing. i know it’s hard to see yourself that way, but i wanted to show you what i see. every time you pick up a pencil, you create something extraordinary. that’s the real you.”

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a mix of overwhelming emotion and gratitude. “thank you, riki. i never thought anyone saw me like this.”

he squeezed your hand, his eyes sincere. “you deserve to see yourself the way others do, the way i do. and if it takes a bunch of paintings to help you realize that, then so be it.”

you smiled through the tears, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. for the first time in a long while, you felt seen—not just as the quiet girl in the corner, but as someone truly beautiful and worthy.

riki’s art had given you a gift more precious than words. it was a mirror reflecting not your insecurities, but your inner strength and beauty. and in that moment, surrounded by his paintings, you slowly began to believe in the image they portrayed.

the gallery buzzed around you, but all you could focus on was riki and his unwavering support. “thank you,” you whispered again, and he simply smiled, his own eyes shining with pride as he whispered back, his arms pulling you into a warm embrace that was like a balm to your worries.

“no, thank you. for being my muse, for being you.”

𝓢igning off... @pnghoon

── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni @luvvsim @jakesangel

[neo-kid-funk]

*GASP* GOTH LEO IS SO PRETTY-FUL

NEO I LOVE YOUR ART STYLE AND HOW YOU DRAW PJO

also your Valgrace sketch made me cry (in a good way)

HERES SOME MORE GRUNGE LEO FOR YOU!!! Thanks for liking my art!!! Sending virtual hugs!!! 💖💖

Happy friday!!!

[fawnim]

🎵 Honey, on your knees when you look at me 🎶

— from Holy by King Princess

There's an angel on stage, here to share what heaven feels like with you. Catch Miss Fell on her first world tour: Sacred Grounds; tickets available worldwide. Let yourself experience the divine.

———

to celebrate this week's fem azi friday, have more of my idol au <33 thank u to everyone at the hive discord server for helping me choose what song fits her best :3 especially to ren who specifically recommended this song \o/ ily guys sm <33

prev idol!azi art

If you want to support me, please consider tipping me over on kofi! I have a goal of $1000 for my dad's medical bills and more. I also offer sketch commissions on kofi for $5-$15! Any help would be a biiiig help. Thank you so much!

You can check out this post for more info about the Femme Aziraphale Friday event or just check out the tag for current and future submissions ! <33 feel free to join us !! any interpretation of fem aziraphale is welcome and loved here 🩷

she's so fhbdnjma she's so pretty guys like i sometimes cant believe that i drew her

im losing my mind

[fallenangelicss]

Catching Stray Kisses

PAIRING | Bridget | Queen of Hearts/James Hook

WORD COUNT | 1077

SUMMARY | When bored in class, Briget reverts to people-watching to pass the time. What she didn't expect was to find someone already watching her. The culprit behind it also seems to be pretty good at pulling a rise out of her.

RATING | Teen And Up Audiences

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | This is my first time partaking in a month-long prompt list so I'm going to do my best to keep up with it can get as many done as I can. It'll hopefully give me a reason to write more which I desperately need. Also, if you'd like to support me then you should consider downloading the Kinder World app with this link. My referral code is WV9K4X but if you need a new referral code then feel free to reach out!

EVENTS | @aug-kissed | Blow A Kiss

AO3 LINK | Read Here

Bridget sat bored in class, her head resting on one of her hands as her feet kicked back and forth under the desk. As much as she loved Merlin’s classes, they tended to drag on when they weren’t doing any sort of practical work. The singular hour that they were in the room seemed to stretch on for days and it didn’t help at all that it was the last lesson before they were free to do as they pleased. 

Ella sat next to her, carefully taking notes as Merlin taught at the front of the room, occasionally writing what seemed to be nonsense on the chalkboard. Bridget knew it would be smarter for her to just pay attention now so she wouldn’t have to beg Ella later for her notes but she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the teacher for more than a few moments at a time, all the information he was spouting going in through one ear and out the other. 

It was honestly exhausting just sitting there. Bridget was ready to go up to her dorm and take a nap until dinner time then maybe make some sort of sweet treat afterwards that she could share around. She didn’t know what she would make but she knew she was itching to stand in front of her homemade mini-kitchen and get back to what she loved doing. 

Letting her eyes dance around the classroom after they instinctively went back to the clock hanging on one of the walls, seeing how they still had another twenty minutes to go before class was over, Bridget resorted to some sightseeing, attempting to find something that could keep her occupied while she waited for the bell to ring. 

Most of the students in the room, like her, seemed to be too bored to comprehend what was happening in front of them which could only be Merlin’s fault as he should’ve known better than to give anyone a theory lesson as their last class on a Friday. 

Like most days, Bridget noticed Uliana terrorising some of her classmates with her tentacles, trying to be discreet about it. At her side sat Morgie, which Bridget wasn’t surprised to see. Laughing almost uncontrollably at whatever it was that Uliana did, Morgie was always attempting to be a good villain for her. Another thing Bridget wasn’t surprised to see was Hades and Maleficent sat next to one another, their hands interlocked while Maleficent sketched something on some scrap paper and Hades messed around with some sort of fire magic. 

What Bridget was however surprised to see was Hook sitting by himself and staring directly at her. Normally he would be the one sitting next to Uliana, if not he would drag Morgie into the seat next to him so he was never by himself. But to see him alone and staring directly at Bridget was a shock, especially when he didn’t look away once he noticed Bridget had caught onto his stare. 

Blinking a few times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, Bridget came face to face with Hook every time she opened her eyes. Not knowing what to do, a shy smile made its way onto her face to not seem rude under Hook’s stare. 

What Hook did next though threw her for a loop.

A smile of his own crept its way onto Hook’s face, the grin being more of a smirk than anything else. His eyes slowly crept up and down Bridget's frame before sending a wink her way, making a pink hue dust her cheeks as she zapped back around and faced the front of the classroom.

“Are you okay,” Ella asked, noting how Bridget was sitting with her spine straight and a flustered expression on her face. Still taking notes as she waited for an answer, Ella’s eyes ticked up to where Bridget was attempting to glance over her shoulder without getting caught and failing to do so. “Did something happen?”

“Nope,” Bridget quickly said, hands coming together and interlocking. Although Ella wasn’t born to much status like Bridget was, she could still notice when someone’s Princess was showing and that was exactly what was happening here as Bridget gushed to herself. Something regarding a boy had just happened and Ella was going to figure out what and who it was no matter what. “Everything is perfectly fine and normal. No reason to be worried at all.”

“Saying that just makes me more suspicious,” Ella warned, noticing how Bridget tensed up a little before sighing, almost as if her resolve was breaking. With just a little more pressure, Bridget would spill everything to her but it seemed like not much effort would be needed from Ella as Bridget was already undoing herself, fidgeting in her seat as she tried not to look back and giveaway who it was. Stopping for a moment before Ella looked back herself to see who it was, she rested a hand on Bridget’s arm and said, “It’s fine Bridget, you can tell me anything. I’m certainly not one to judge you.”

“You’re right,” Bridget smiled, returning the favour and grabbing onto Ella’s wrist, running a thumb over it. “I just noticed someone staring at me and…” “And you think they’re cute?” Ella finished the sentence for her, one of her eyebrows raising at Bridget as she waited for a response. Thinning her lips together, Bridget nodded her head, the blush that was previously coating her cheeks intensifying. “Okay, who is it?”

“Well…” Bridget trailed off, her eyes flicking backwards before looking back at Ella. With a nod of her head in his direction, the two of them looked back at the same time to see Hook still staring at Bridget, the same smirk still coating his face. His eyes didn’t move from Bridget’s face, solely focused on her and not even acknowledging Ella. Raising his hand that wasn’t occupied with a hook, Hook blew a kiss towards Bridget, a chuckle pouring from his mouth when both Bridget and Ella whipped back around.

“Did he just?” Bridget started, not having to finish her sentence for Ella to understand.

“Yeah,” She nodded, just as surprised as Bridget. This was news to Ella. She would have to do a serious amount of stalking and research before she let that pirate anywhere near her friend but for now, it wouldn’t hurt. “Looks like you won’t have to look too hard for a Castlecoming date.”

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

glad someone is doing Heathers the fandom has been starved. Could you do Heather Chandler x Fem!reader. Could be like strangers to lovers, idc the fandom needs more lol.

Tipsy Hook Ups||

|| Heather Chandler x fem!reader

|| Warnings: swearing, house party, underage drinking mentions, characters get drunk, heather hooks up with reader while drunk (nothing overly detailed)

|| Summary: Reader gets spotted by Heather M and the two become fast friends, resulting in reader joining the Heathers & Veronica. Heather M invites Reader to a house party where drunk!Heather Chandler hooks up with drunk!Reader.

Requests open!

Started: April 19th

Finished: April 21st

~~~

You and Heather Chandler couldn't be any further from different. While she was popular and hot, you were more artsy and "weird". At least, that's probably how she would look at you. You spent most of your time either in the library or art room, places you were sure Heather Chandler would avoid.

And it worked. For a while.

She had no idea who you were.

Until one day she noticed you. That annoying Monday morning where you had decided to situate yourself just below your school locker. Seated on the ground, sketch book in hand. You weren't giving much thought to what you were drawing: just basic anatomy figure sketches. Nothing that was overly detailed or required a lot of thought. You loved art like that. The stuff you could just effortlessly create.

The Heathers walked by your locker, you did your best not to look up and give eye contact to either of them but of course you were noticed anyways. Just not by the Red Devil.

Heather McNamara noticed you. She took one glance at your art and was immediately sitting down next to you with a smile on her face.

"Oh my God! You're amazing at that! What're you drawing?" She asks, leaning over your shoulder. You flinch at her sudden appearance next to you and her energy, glancing at her and then at the others. Heather Duke had her arms folded across her chest, watching you and Heather McNamara with an intense glare while Heather Chandler took one glance at you. Seemed to stop for a moment before she kept walking. You second guessed and thought maybe you had imagined her stopping.

Your eyes shifted from them to Heather McNamara, feeling a little awkward with the blonde next to you," Oh... um... just-"

You're cut off by Heather Duke, though you're almost relieved by that." Heather, let's go!" She makes a 'get up' hand gesture.

"Okay, okay! Just a second!" Heather McNamara replies, looking to you again after looking over at Heather Duke. "Can you teach me how to draw like that sometime? My art score is low and I could use a tutor."

"Sure..?" You raise an eyebrow slightly. That was the last thing you expected to have happen.

"Great! Thanks! Oh! What's your name?" She asks you just as she was about to get up.

"Y/N." You respond, she smiles at you and gives you a quick (awkward) hug.

"Nice meeting you, Y/N! Library after school today?"

"Okay.."

"Great!" Heather gets up and leaves, Heather Duke scoffs and glares at you before they both scramble after Heather Chandler who was a good distance ahead.

That's how you and Heather McNamara became friends. Something you never thought would happen. From what you've gathered, she's much nicer than the other Heathers.

~~~

It's been three weeks now of you tutoring Heather in art, you thought she was getting better at it. On top of it, you both were close friends now. She was just so easy to talk to and genuinely pretty funny once you got to know her.

It was after school, you and Heather M were in the school library. Working on an art project the two of you had been paired together for. You guys didn't have the same art class, but the art teacher was trying this thing where she paired students from different class periods on projects. You weren't sure why, you thought maybe it was her way of getting students to connect with people they normally wouldn't.

"Y/N, I was wondering. Are you busy this Friday night?" She asked you, you looked up from the references you'd been flipping through in a book and shook your head.

"No, why?"

Her smile widened and you immediately regretted not coming up with a lie. You knew that look.

"Kurt and Ram are hosting a house party. I'll have Heather come to yours when she picks the rest of us up!"

Great. Now you're going to a house party. You'd done so well at avoiding those.

"Alright.. but could you come to mine after school first? I have no idea what to wear to a house party." You admit.

"Oh my Gosh! Totally! Ee, this is going to be awesome!" She squeals, throwing her hands into the air. Her excited look made it worth it.

~~~

Friday night rolls around, Heather M had helped you get into a nice outfit (whatever you want to imagine) and Heather Chandler had gotten all five of you to the party. The five being you, Veronica, the Heathers.

You weren't sure what to expect. Sure you could guess but all those guesses made you nervous. Luckily, you had Heather M and Veronica keeping an eye on you. In the time you had known Heather M Veronica had become friends with you too.

It was well into the party now, you had a few drinks. Nothing too insane, but you were definitely a little tipsy. Not as bad as the other Heathers and Veronica, who you were surprised to see as drunk as she was.

You were leaned up against the counter top in the kitchen, watching as Heather M poured each of you another drink. Heather Chandler walked over to you with a smirk.

"Hey, nerd. Come over here for a second." She demanded, you glanced at her in confusion but listened.

Without warning, she kissed you. Heather D & M and Veronica stared at the both of you with wide eyes and confusion. Veronica cheered though.

"Yeah! Get it, Y/N!" She's drunk, leave her be.

You blushed heavily and pulled away after a moment, staring into Heather's eyes. You couldn't read her. You didn't want to admit it, but you had been crushing on her as you got closer with the group. Did she pick up on that? What did this mean?

"Come on." Heather C muttered, grabbing you by your hand; dragging you somewhere upstairs and into one of the bedrooms.

You weren't sure whose but you didn't care enough to figure it out. You just simply followed Heather.

When she got you into the room, she had pushed you against the closed door with a bit of force. Kissing at your neck which got a gasp out of you, you moved her off you so you could gather your thoughts.

"What the hell?" You asked, breathless. She smirked again at that and her hand trailed down your side.

"This is what you've wanted, isn't it?" Fuck.

She knew.

You gulped and didn't answer, which confirmed everything for her," Just relax and let it happen. You're hot, let me fucking kiss you." Heather whispered against your lips.

Part of you knew this was wrong. You were both drunk. Her more than you. You were sure both of you would regret this in the morning. But right now? You didn't care about any of that.

Little did you know neither of you would regret it and that it would turn into something more.

[vyscera]

Hey all, gonna be periodically opening up sketch commissions for Palestine relief. This round I will be taking submissions until Friday March 15th

guide on how to purchase an eSIM with Nomad / Simly

once you purchase - DO NOT activate it! send the QR code to gazaesims@gmail.com - then you can DM me a screenshot of the receipt along with your sketch request and your email @ so I can send you the drawing. It's very simple and some plans cost under $10, here's another post with more details about e-sims and places to find discount codes

I am also accepting receipts for donations $15 and up to any solid relief org / mutual aid funds going directly to Palestinians but i'd like to highlight the importance of e-sims for connecting Palestine.

Remember to uplift Palestinian voices, get involved in actions in your area, and keep your eyes on Gaza. Free Palestine