Words To Describe Facial Expressions

Recently I have gotten back into drawing...my favorite things so far to doodle are expressions, mostly from Haikyuu faces. Not the beautiful and pretty versions...no no no...

I’m really no artist, I just like to doodle...here are some more.

These were so easy and fun to draw...I’m gonna go make some more.

🙏 We want you to stay with Lord Sesshomaru forever too baby! 🙏

Let's manifest with Rin 🙏🏼🕯

Tips from a Beta Reading Writer

This one's for the scenes with multiple characters, and you're not sure how to keep everyone involved.

Writing group scenes is chaos. Someone’s talking, someone’s interrupting, someone’s zoning out thinking about breadsticks. And if you’re not careful, half your cast fades into the background like NPCs in a video game. I used to struggle with this so much—my characters would just exist in the scene without actually affecting it. But here’s what I've learned and have started implementing:

✨ Give everyone a job in the scene ✨

Not their literal job—like, not everyone needs to be solving a crime or casting spells. I mean: Why are they in this moment? What’s their role in the conversation?

My favourite examples are:

The Driver: Moves the convo forward. They have an agenda, they’re pushing the action.

The Instigator: Pokes the bear. Asks the messy questions. Stirring the pot like a chef on a mission.

The Voice of Reason: "Guys, maybe we don’t commit arson today?"

The Distracted One: Completely in their own world. Tuning out, doodling on a napkin, thinking about their ex.

The Observer: Not saying much, but noticing everything. (Quiet characters still have presence!)

The Wild Card: Who knows what they’ll do? Certainly not them. Probably about to make things worse.

If a character has no function, they’ll disappear. Give them something—even if it’s just a side comment, a reaction, or stealing fries off someone’s plate. Keep them interesting, and your readers will stay interested too.

Hellooo~

So far it's looking like Gaz in Uniform will be the winner of the poll, but we will see where it ends up by this evening.

I haven't written a fic like that before. I put that idea down as I knew it would be a challenge to write for me. Hoping it wouldn't get picked.

I was wrong.

This one may take me the whole week to write.

This won’t go over well with a lot of you, but you all are gonna rant than so am I!

It’s gonna be a long one, so buckle up. A number of people really don’t like Yashahime. I see so many people who are upset and saying the story is poorly done fan fiction. Saying such things because the writers are using stories from the manga and replacing the characters. Saying the characters, like Setsuna and Towa, are flat. That they are Mary Sue type characters. That Moroha is just a jester. Someone to poke fun at. That she doesn’t care about her parents or who they are.

ARE THEY FUCKING BLIND?!

They want the show to display a fairytale happy ending for the characters they love. WELL I HAVE NEWS FOR THESE PEOPLE!! FAIRYTALE ENDINGS DON’T MAKE GOOD STORIES! Not even FAIRYTALES are written that way. They want Sunrise to start the series off with the whole gang dancing around singing kumbaFUCKINGya! This is a ridiculous notion to have. A naive and simple minded one at best. They cry because they don’t get to see their beloved characters. They whine because the story doesn’t match what they had envisioned. NEWS FLASH! Many of the people writing, animating, and voicing this series are the ones who were apart of the original. This is what THEY envisioned. This is their dream. HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THEIR ART WITH SUCH PREPOSTEROUS ACCUSATIONS!

This is how good stories start. You throw the characters into the fire, watch them crawl through it, and emerge from the other side with resolve. Our characters got their happy ending. We saw it. However, life continues on. The OG gang lives during a time of demons and that world did not end with Naraku’s death. He was not the end all, be all of demons. He was not a LORD. He was not a ruler of lands. He was a pitiful HUMAN man with hate in his heart that sold his soul for power and the love of a woman he would never be able to grasp. Just because we did not see the good times, does not mean they were not there. We saw the start of it. As I have been told by someone, that is what imagination is for. We use our imagination to develop stories of how they lived their lives afterwards. Up until the point it all went to shit again. We are thrown into the story when it begins to unfold. That is why we see the story of the girls. We see the world through their eyes just as we did with Kagome and the others. It appears patchy and inconsistent because that’s how they see it! They don’t know the full story, so why should we. As an audience, we already know so much more than they do.

This story has just begun, do these ignorant twits really expect to be spoon feed every damn detail. I get the frustration of wanting to see the OG characters happy. I want nothing more than see the beautiful family life of Sesshomaru and Rin. I want nothing more than to see the loving and chaotic relationship between Inuyasha, Kagome, and Moroha. I want nothing more than to see Sango and Miroku raising their children. I WANT THAT TOO! However, this story is NOT ABOUT THAT! It is about the hellfire that rained down on them. It is about the hardships that both the old and new cast had to suffer through. It is about what happened after the fairytale ended. We don’t have answers, because it just started! It took 193 EPISODES of Inuyasha for the story to be completed. ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY-THREE! We are on episode 11, going on 12, of Yashahime! I for one believe there will be more than 1 season. These artists are not known for short and sweet stories. If they end the story abruptly, IT’S BECAUSE OF THE TOXIC DISCOURSE THAT IS FLOODING THE STREETS! Believe in the writing and have faith that our questions will be answered. This is a story across time and it will take time to tell it.

Moroha will have her spotlight. We will see her rise to the occasion. She does care about her parents and who they are. I know this, in my heart, to be true.

Setsuna and Towa will regain their memory and be reunited with their family. Even if it is not how we pictured it.

Hisui and Kohaku are rebuilding their family business. They are following in the footsteps of their ancestors. We will see that story as well.

We will see what happened to the others, we just have to show patience and faith. Even if it does not align with our fandom’s dreams. Our dreams are ones of happiness, delusions, and self insertions. We are not the authors of this story. We are the fans. We are not going to like every single facet of this story. So many of us have changed the story with fan fictions. Our minds have warped and manipulated this story into something that is not aligned with the story that is being published. AND WE NEED TO GET OVER IT. Stop harping on these childish fantasies and understand that it is a story. Not a story of your life, but a story of characters that you did not create. So in the end, you do not get to decide their fates.

Come at me if you want. However, I will not entertain your delusions.

Only Good Girls Get to Come (Cont.)

Part 1

Your chest heaved as you came down from the high Price put you through, skin flushed and damp with sweat, limbs loose and useless. But even as your body sagged back onto the sheets, he stayed right there. Kneeling between your legs, one broad hand splayed possessively on your thigh, the other slowly withdrawing from you, fingers slick and glistening.

He watched your face the whole time.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then his tone shifted, the wolfish glint returning to his voice. “You’ll behave now, yeah?”

You blinked up at him, dazed. “Mmmaybe.”

John chuckled. Low. Dangerous.

He leaned in, bracing himself with one hand beside your head, the other catching your jaw to tilt your face up to his again. His thumb brushed your lower lip, slow and steady.

“Still mouthing off?” he asked softly.

You gave him a lazy, smug grin. “Takes more than that to shut me up, Captain.”

A dangerous pause.

“Cheeky little thing,” he said, his voice darker. His hand trailed down again, brushing through the folds of your swollen pussy, gathering your slick onto his fingers. He dragged them up, slow and deliberate, until he pressed them against your lips.

“Open.”

You did.

“Good girl.”

He let you taste yourself off his fingers, watching intently, and you swore you could feel his cock twitch against the fabric of those damned sweatpants still hanging low on his hips.

“Y’think you’ve earned this?” he asked, grabbing your hand and dragging it to his lap. Letting you feel the thick length straining under grey cotton.

You swallowed. Nodded.

He leaned down to your ear, voice like smoke and gravel.

“Then get on your knees and prove it.”

As Price moved off from the edge of the bed, you slid off, legs shaky but obedient, and sank to the floor in front of him. His eyes followed your every move, arms crossed over his chest like he was appraising you. Judging your willingness. Measuring your sincerity.

You palmed him through the fabric first, with slow strokes along the thick length beneath his sweats. He was hard. Of course he was. You bit your bottom lip as your desire threatened to consume you. The little groan he let slip when your fingers curled into the waistband was divine.

You tugged the sweatpants down just enough, freeing him from the fabric. His cock was thick, flushed, and heavy in your hand. You didn’t waste time. Your lips brushed the head with soft reverence. A delicate kiss. Then, you took him into your mouth, slow and as deep as your throat would allow.

Above you, Price hissed through his teeth. One large hand found the back of your head, firm but not forceful.

“Good girl,” he muttered, hips twitching forward. “Just like that.”

You worked him steadily with your wet and eager mouth, your spit dripping down his length as your mouth slid back and forth. You tried to impress him. Tried to be what he wanted. You even looked up through your lashes while sucking him down, playing the part of the obedient little thing.

And for a second…it worked.

Except, you couldn’t help yourself. The urge to toy with him was devouring you, like a wildfire consuming a forest. You pulled off him with a pop, giving him a smug look. Slick-mouthed, and pleased with yourself.

“Oops” You said with a pout, feigning innocence as your fingers wrapped around him again. “Slipped.”

His jaw ticked. That hand in your hair tightened. And before you could blink, he had you up on your feet. His other hand gripped your jaw firm enough that your mouth fell open under the delicious pressure.

“Slipped?” he repeated, voice dangerously quiet. “You call that slippin’, sweetheart?”

You tried to hold your smirk. Almost made it. But then he leaned down, nose brushing yours, gaze locked in on your lips.

“You keep slippin’ like that,” he murmured, “and I’ll forget all about fuckin’ you. I’ll just bend you over and leave you stuffed full of my fingers again. Let you sob for my cock while I make you say please with that filthy little mouth.”

You whimpered, involuntaryly. And he heard it.

“There she is,” he purred.

He let go of your face slowly, dragging his thumb over your lower lip one last time.

“Now,” he said, stepping back just enough to give you a choice. “Do you want to try again? Or do you want to spend the rest of the night beggin’ and never gettin’?”

Your eyes flicked to his cock. It was hard, heavy, and right there. Your body ached. Your thighs trembled.

You swallowed softly as you dropped your gaze, “…Please,” you said, quiet.

He tilted his head.

“Try again.”

You looked up at him, lips parted, chest heaving.

“Please, John. I want you to fuck me.”

He stepped forward, cupped the back of your neck, and kissed you with a deep possession, teeth dragging across your lip like he could barely restrain himself.

“Good girl,” he growled against your mouth. “Now get on the bed. Hands and knees. Let’s see how loud you can get.”

You scrambled back onto the bed, face down, arching your back instinctively. With your ass raised, you spread yourself wide. Your hands fisting into the sheets. The air felt electric against your bare skin, anticipation buzzing under every inch of you. 

The rustle of fabric. His sweatpants finally hit the floor and the sound made your stomach flutter.

Then his hands were on you.

One gripped your hip, the other pressed flat between your shoulder blades, holding you down, guiding you exactly how he wanted you. Helpless and open for him.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice low with desire, rough with his own need. “Back arched, legs spread... guess you can behave after all.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but gasped instead when you felt the blunt head of his cock drag through your soaked and puffy cunt. He teased you with it, slow, unhurried, rubbing himself against your entrance but not pushing in.

“Please,” you breathed, already trembling.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asked, still not giving you what you needed.

“Please fuck me.”

He leaned over you, chest against your back, mouth grazing your ear.

“Louder.”

“Please, John,” you cried. “I need your cock! Please, just fuck me!”

His grip tightened.

And then he slammed into you in one deep, devastating thrust.

You choked on a scream. Your vision going blurry as his thick cock, stretched you wide, filling you so deep you felt him in your gut. He didn’t give you a second to adjust before pulling back and driving into you again. Again. Again.

“That's it,” he growled, hips slapping against your ass. “Not so mouthy now, are ya?”

You tried to speak. All that came out was a breathless whimper.

He grabbed both your wrists and pinned them behind your back with one hand, the other gripping your hip like a vice. His rhythm was relentless. He pounded into you, driving the air from your lungs with every stroke.

“Christ,” he bit out. “It’s like this cunt was fuckin’ made for me.”

You cried out, back arching further, the angle hitting something devastating inside you.

He fucked you through it. Unrelenting. Every thrust felt like a punishment and a reward wrapped in one.

“Good girls get to come,” he grunted, voice rough and close to breaking. “Think you earned it yet, sweetheart?”

You nodded furiously, tears in your eyes, sobbing his name like it was a prayer.

He smacked your ass once, sharp, then dragged his fingers between your legs to circle your clit, fast and brutal.

“Then come for me.”

With his command you came apart on a loud and earth shattering moan, your whole body clenching around him as he continued to fucked you through it. You barely registered the broken groan he let out when he followed, burying himself deep and spilling into you, his grip never faltering.

In the pause that followed, the air thick with unspoken words, the only sounds were the rhythmic, heavy breaths of the two of you. You collapsed onto the sheets, gasping, boneless, and ruined. Every muscle in your body trembled as he slowly pulled out of you. Your pussy fluttered around nothing, clenching on air as if it could drag him back in by force.

But he hadn’t gone far.

You felt his hand on the back of your thigh, then his fingers, dragging through the mess between your legs, slow and deliberate.

You flinched. He chuckled.

“A bit much for you, love?” he asked, voice still thick and dark with satisfaction.

You whimpered, trying to wiggle away. He caught your hips easily, pulling you back, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“I asked you a question.”

You shook your head weakly into the sheets as you stuttered out, “To-too much…”

He hummed. Mocking sympathy.

“Oh, is my cock too much for you now?” He leaned in again, lips brushing your ear. “Didn’t sound like it when you were beggin’ for it.”

You groaned as his fingers slid between your folds again, gathering slick and using it to rub slow, deliberate circles on your overstimulated clit.

You jerked, gasping. “John…please…”

“Thought you wanted to be good,” he murmured, ignoring your pleas as he kept going. “Good girls take what they’re given.”

You choked out a moan, thighs trembling again. You were going to come again, already, how was that possible?

He kissed your temple, still relentless with his fingers.

“C’mon now. One more for me.”

You tried to twist away, but his hand stayed firm, holding you in place while he worked your clit with devastating precision. His body pressed to yours from behind. He was steady, unmovable, and grounding.

“Shhh,” he whispered when you sobbed. “I know. I know it’s too much. You’re gonna give it to me anyway.”

You shook, overwhelmed, panting into the mattress as the heat built again, bright and unbearable. Every nerve in your body lit up as he drove you toward the edge with slow, confident touches.

“That’s it,” he coaxed. “Let it happen. You’re doin’ so well.”

You could barely form words, but your body obeyed. Your pussy tightened, ached, pulsed, and then you broke. Again.

You came with a strangled sound, half-cry, half-plea, your body convulsing under him as wave after wave crashed through you. It was too much, too raw, too good. He never stopped touching you, even as you whimpered, whispering his name like you could anchor yourself with it.

Only when your body gave out completely, hips twitching and breath hitching, did he finally ease his hand away.

You collapsed fully, shaking, eyes blurry and heart pounding. You were wrecked. Undone. Completely spent.

And then… he softened.

He pulled you into his arms, settled the both of you onto your sides, cradling you against his chest with strong, steady hands. One stroked your hair, the other rubbed circles along your back. Gentle now. Grounding.

“Good girl,” he murmured against your temple. “Took it so well. Proud of you.”

You didn’t have the strength to reply, but the way you melted into him said enough.

He kissed your forehead, his voice low and soothing.

“Let’s get you cleaned up in a bit. You rest. I’ve got you.”

You nodded faintly, letting your eyes drift closed.

Safe. Warm. Held.

And completely, utterly, his.

Shoujo Todoroki & Bakugou

This is it. Someone put it into words.

I want to write. I have ideas. I open document. I type four of the worst sentences ever created in the english language. I daydream the rest of the scene. I close document.

Okay I think I’m gonna try a mixture! I don’t often do fluff so we’ll have to try and see how this goes! Do you have any ideas who I might be yet or are you still at a loss?! I’m so excited to gift this fic to you I really do hope you enjoy it and I do the character justice for you! 💕 - 💐

I’m still at a loss. Sorry. I’m really excited to read it! It will be great! I know it!