#and would fit the journal better

[ailurinae]

That's the whole title. And it's not a pre-print archive where you might think a mistake like leaving out the end of the title could happen, it's in the Journal of South American Earth Sciences. The link goes to ScienceDirect/Elsevier.

The end of the title should probably be "American Southwest" it seems like? "Journal of South American Earth Sciences" seems like an odd venue since it is talking about "Arizona, New Mexico and Texas", not even getting into Mexico it doesn't look like from a skim (the journal says "Including Mexico, Central America, The Caribbean and The Antarctic Peninsula"). And none of the authors are from South America. Three are from the US, one is in Canada and one in Austria.

Edit: yeah the pre-print has the whole title. The journal fucked it up.

[EARLY PERMIAN SEAWAYS IN THE]

Lucas et al. (2024)

[iamthepulta]

I KNEW when I started this process that alum would be a heavily overlooked commodity throughout history but this paper is going into the taxation by the Roman empire, particularly their fortresses along the trade route in order to secure it as an international commodity and GOD that is so cool. Aluminum is just like nitrates but for clothing, art, and processing rather than war!! Then we were able to synthesize the process and it's become forgotten and obsolete.

[freebooter4ever]

i suspect tumblr is mocking me at this point

[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 6: 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

title: haunted bang synopsis: when you decided to explored a haunted mansion, all you wanted was to gain more knowledge for your grimoire. you never expected it to be habited, even less for all the residents to agree that sharing is caring. [1.8K] cw: wizard!reader, teratophilia, monster fucking, gangbang, voyeurism, size difference, manhandling, mind connection, scent kink, oral (f!receiving), pet play, pussy drunk, overstimulation, you know that post about "would you fuck your clone?", f in v, monsters included are a eldritch creature, a werewolf, a vampire and a shapeshifter.

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There is so many rumors about the mansion. Some believe it to have been built on top of an ancient cemetery, ending the ghost’s slumber. Others, that a coven filled every room with protection runes to preserve the soul of the late owners. A journal published a profile for an architect that died a day after the construction was completed, but quick research showed he had nothing to do with it.

Lies and gossips spread easily, but those brave enough to walk into the dead-end street can see the truth by themselves. Whoever chained those doors did so sensibly, since nothing sane could ever come out of them. A darkness spreads from within the house.

After making your way in with an old pliers, you explored the first floor. There were many chances of turning away, all of them ignored willingly. At the end, all you had were two options: to stay at home safely, or possibly learning a new spell for your collection.

Wizards aren’t known for making the obvious, easy choice.

Since the moment you sensed the darkness this mansion casted, nothing would’ve convinced you of not coming back to explore the secrets within those walls of bricks and stones. You feel it even better now, this great deal of mana. It isn’t a cursed mansion, only a heavily enchanted one.

A relieved smile appeared on your face when you finally found a library. You invoked flames in the remaining candles on the chandeliers and sat down on a large armchair. With the books floating from their shelves and surrounding your body, you analyzed them quickly in search of something worth your time.

In a few minutes, you found it. Holding an old grimoire in your hands, you blew the dust away. Walking through the library, your excitement blinded you. You put the book down on a table, opening your own to copy any fun spell.

As you begin to read the grimoire, your eyes widened. It takes strength from great old forces, eldritch entities incomprehensible to the average mortal. Based on entropy, it alters the fabric of reality itself.

Ancient magic. Its use is highly forbidden, and usually punished with death. Cleaning your glasses on your skirt, you bended over the table and read every line with an unending curiosity.

The first touch went unnoticed. A soft, quick brush against your arm. As your thigh got pinched, you assumed it to be the work of a hungry insect. But when a cold aura surrounded you, embracing your body and soul, there was no doubt left.

Whatever old force empowers this place; it was right here. Right behind you.

Your quarterstaff materialized between your hands. Your grimoire floated, pages turning as you recite your strongest protection spell. Changing your posture, you were ready to fight.

The quiet nature of this threat shifted.

Something forced its way inside your mouth, putting an end to your attempt of using radiant magic. An invisible force, but not less palpable because of it. As you bit down, trying to stop it, you felt it pressing down on your tongue.

Intruder, a voice spoke inside of your head. Low and strident, all at once. Thief in the night.

A limb embraced your waist, leaving a gelid trace as it fit beneath your shirt. A hand grabbed your left thigh so roughly you had no reaction but to whine with your mouth full. Little by little, there wasn’t a muscle of your body free to fight back.

It lifted you from the ground, forcing your hands open. The quarterstaff disappeared in the air before hitting the floor. Higher and higher in the air, your body trembled. Fully involved by this coldness, you had no way of moving.

Usurper, she hissed inside your mind. Or was it a masculine voice? You couldn’t quite picture it. But thinking back about it, didn’t it groaned and roar? Was it even human? Nothing will harm my home.

Nothing will, you thought. If you could hear its voice, then it could hear you too. You hoped. I mean no harm. I swear.

LIAR.

I want to learn, you tried to bargain. I have no intentions of hurting anyone. I didn’t even know there was someone in here to harm. All I desire is to know more than others. Nothing more, nothing less.

The silence gave you an opportunity to look for your grimoire. Alone on the ground, it was so close and yet so far away. Even if it was near, with you unable to speak or move there were few spells you could cast. And none of them would be of any real practical help now.

A soft caress on your cheeks took you from your hushed thoughts. As your feet touched the floor, you stumbled trying to regaining your balance. It held you in place, the feeling soft and rough.

I can teach you everything I know, it whispered. For a cost. This time, the voice came with pictures in your mind. Do you want that?

In them, you saw yourself. Lips hanging open, forehead covered in sweat, eyes half-closed. You saw tears running down your face, legs spread and trembling, fingers closed tightly around the same table you used before.

And in them, you saw glowing eyes still hidden by darkness.

Yes, I want that.

The same careless limbs bended you over the table, but this time it was gentler. Less worried about safety, more worried about you. Holding your hands behind your back, it placed your legs apart.

Something cold touched your inner thighs. It moved against your skin, lingering. Once more, you invoked flames. Contorting your body, a gasp broke the silence. Kneeled down, eyes fixated on your thighs, you found a werewolf.

“Your scent”, he groaned. His face rubbed against you, inhaling shamelessly. His yellow eyes raised to yours, and in them you saw desperation. His muzzle went away from you and he smiled, displaying his sharp fangs. “Hold her still.”

Once he closed his mouth, you tried to move away. Not because you wanted for him to stop, but because how couldn’t you when he says that? You were forced down, back caressed and head scratched. Like a pet, you were kept still and quiet.

Your skirt was thrown away from your body and he… sniffed you? Half of you bare to whoever there to witness, with a monster between your legs. To know that you’re being watched only makes you desire this more. A huge tongue licked your pussy, you moaned. It was real, just a tad louder than it needed to be.

Putting on a show, it laughed inside your head. Keep on this good work and I might not let you walk away.

Your eyes closed as he continued to ravish you. Restless, he simply continued. Tongue deep into you, teeth sinking into your skin, lips sucking around your clit. Your legs were covered in drool, and you could feel it dripping from your aching core.

A hand grabbed your hair, forcing you to look up. A real touch this time. The candles showed you the tall woman in front of you, nails so long they could be mistaken by claws. Looking into her red eyes, you felt a primal urge inside you.

Everything inside you told you to run.

Nature is such a disappointing force. It is not your fault that you were born a prey, that ancient being spoke. Its voice oscillated, as if it was too far away and suddenly right against your ear. And it is not hers to be turned predator long ago.

“This delicate sparkle in your eyes”, a velvet voice made to your ears. Elegant, but sharp. She smiled, and the fangs weren’t a reason to act surprised. “You won’t allow it to dissuade you, will you? Don’t struggle. There is no use.”

Her free hand closed around your neck. A movement faster than you could see, but delicate enough for you to know she didn’t want you to break apart.

“You are mine now, puppy”, she smirked. “Put your mouth to use.”

As she put her knee on top of the table, moving the black dress enough for you to see her strong legs, the vampire pulled your hair again. “Yes, mistress”, you said.

Satisfied, she forced your head between her thighs. As the werewolf continued to torture your poor pussy, you treated hers like a wine you had to enjoy every little sip. It was easy to get eager, to get lost on your own never-ending pleasure, but you made sure to treat her nicely.

Every whimper of hers made you weaker. Every bite from him made you weaker. Every hold onto your skin, whispers inside your head, made you weaker.

It was no surprise your orgasm would break you in pieces. It was no surprise every single one of you would continue despise it.

As you breathed in, trying to get your legs to work, a hand came back to stroking your skin. It put you on top of the table as if you weighted nothing. Before you could flutter your eyes open, those skilled fingers were inside of you.

Touching in the right place, with the right pressure, at the exact right moment. It was perfect. Did this creature read your mind in a way or another? Or is this fate, and in this wretched place you find someone that really knows exactly how to fuck you properly?

“What a delight”, the vampire spoke. “May I drink from her now?

The werewolf hummed. “Look at her legs. Those pretty lips”, you heard him doing just that. “You can’t. Not yet. I need my plaything strong and capable for the night.”

“But do you really, old dog?” She argued. “No one will judge you for admitting you need to rest. No one but me, of course.”

Her mind is far more interesting, it spoke again. Apparently, everyone could hear it. Her memories taste even sweeter. What a fine thing found us this evening.

“How luck we are”, you said.

But you didn’t.

Opening your eyes, you saw yourself. Fingers deep into your cunt, mouth displaying the most annoying smirk. Eyes glistening with fake innocent.

“Fuck”, you babbled.

The smirk seemed to grow. “Your mind is a interesting place”, that thing said. Even her voice was the same as yours. “But I need to say, your body if far more comfortable.”

Looking into your eyes, all you could do was take it. Let this being have its fill of you. Watch for your tits move. The strechmarks on your waist. Your soft thighs. Those freckles on your skin.

Being used, watching yourself, its voice came back. You want this to stop?

You giggled. “Don’t tell me it’s over already?”

Not at all, the voice came back. Let’s move to the next floor.

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink @py-schi

© all rights reserved to MADWOMANSAPOLOGIST

[iinthehexcore]

talks and views

summary: You and Steb spent more and more time together. He even asked for your recommendations - but he would only get them if he gave you a review afterward. part 1 - pages and books

content: our favorite fishman steb, more scenes outside the library, hopefully it will be all fluffy and sweet! not familiar with actual names of stuff so forgive me for that </3

wordcount: 3,309

a/n: thank you all so much for all the love on my previous steb fic! glad to see so many steb enjoyers!!! this idea came from @cae-core so big thanks to them! hope you all like it :)

⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

'My favorite librarian.'

Even through your feverish state, you could still hear his voice. Thankfully, the medicine he had so caringly put together for you worked wonders. After two days, you felt as good as you always did - maybe even better. His favorite librarian? It made your cheeks heat up even thinking about it. The first few sentences that he had spoken to you - something you had already dreamt of hearing - were so sincere, so sweet. You thought about Steb saying the words so often that the sentence was nearly engraved on your brain.

That next Tuesday, you were strolling through the library again, a stack of books in your arms as you put them all in their original spot. You could tell that certain classes had exams coming up - all of them came from the same row of bookcases. Only a few of the tables in the library were taken up with students working hard, but you were no exception. You had your own fair share of essays that needed to be finished. It was your last year at the Academy, and you hoped you could at least still work at the library after graduation. However, you had changed your work schedule - only one day instead of the two (and sometimes three) you did before. It left you with a little bit of time to study in your own dorm. Originally, your boss scheduled you for Sunday - that way, you would have enough time to focus on school on weekdays. You begged to switch with one of your coworkers, saying Tuesday would be a better fit, and thankfully, he was fine with it.

All the books were now neatly placed on the shelves, and as you looked at the clock, you realized there were only two hours left until closing. Time had flown by so fast - you barely even realized it was this late.

The heavy doors opened again, a gust of wind flowing through the library as you turned around. And there, at the other side of the library, walked Steb. His posture was as straight as ever, and a big bag filled with books on his side. Last week, much to his dismay, he had loaned a new list of books on Wednesday. But now, a day early, he stood in the cozy library again, another laundry list of books tucked into his pocket. He did not have a big list every single week - for a few weeks, he only had one or two books. This week though, he had his bag full. If anyone else in the library would take hold of his bag, it would probably drop to the floor from its weight.

"Steb!"

He could feel his ears twitch as he turned around, seeing you walk over to him. The table filled with students did not even blink, much too distracted by their work as their heads rested in their hands. With a deep breath, he nodded, opening his bag as you hopped behind the counter, already placing your journal and pen in front of Steb.

It was a wonder that the sparkly pink pen survived as long as it did. Not only did Steb use it to scribble down sentences, but you also used it to doodle, do your homework, and even make grocery lists. But, with every drop of ink now on paper instead of in the cartridge, you decided it was time for a new pen. Back then, you had bought the pink one because the color reminded you of sweet candy and flowers. But this time, instead of leaning to the pinkish tones again, something else caught your eye.

A pen, silver shimmers with a blue color underneath. At the time, you did not quite understand why you wanted it so bad, but now, as you looked into Steb's eyes, you understood.

He took every single book out of his bag, placing them on the cart that stood at the side of the counter. You had told him before that it was no problem for you to do it, but he waved you off. 'Too heavy', he wrote in your notepad. Last week, his list was filled with books on either side of the paper. But now, the slip was small, and all it said was 'Any recommendations?'

You hold it in your hands, your eyebrows shooting up as you looked back at the man.

"My recommendations?"

He nodded, adjusting the beret that said atop his head. Your recommendations? Well, you still had the mountain of 'to be read' books. Surely, something in there must be to his liking!

"Well, you came to the right person!" You placed the paper on your desk, turning around, "Let me see..."

Steb's eyes fell to the pen in front of him, an amused look on his face, combined with the tiniest smile. He breathed in deeply as you rummaged through the bookcase behind you.

"I sure hope you don't have a maximum," you said, turning around with a stack of books in your arms, "Let me see here..."

With a big 'oof', you dropped them on your desk, leaning against the counter as you put the books on it one by one.

"An autobiography, history... Cooking, if you are into that. Oceans," you chuckled, "And this one!"

'Piltover: The City of Progress. Most beautiful architecture!'

"I can't help but keep coming back to this one. I just can't believe how beautiful Piltover actually is," you smiled, placing it on top of the mountain, "I wish I could see all these buildings once! I mean, some of them I have heard of before, but wow, imagine sitting here!"

You flipped through the book, stopping at your favorite page. On it were multiple pictures of the Piltover Council building. It showed the views from the roof, the hallways that looked out over the city - even every minuscule detail down to the door handles. To Steb, this was not too special - it was his workplace. He wandered here many times before. But to see you so enchanted by merely the pictures made him feel something deep inside.

You let out a deep sigh, closing the book with a smile before looking up at the taller figure in front of you.

"Well, these would be my picks! Any that pique your interest?"

Steb's gloved finger tapped the Piltover book and you excitedly nodded, grabbing the form to fill all his information in. By now, you did not even need to ask him for the simple and basic information anymore.

"Good choice! I would love to hear which one was your favorite!"

And so, he left.

You did see him on your day off again though. After finishing your classes, you immediately left, papers still in your hands as you rushed down the stairs in front of the building. You did not necessarily have to rush, but the sooner you could go to your favorite cafe, the better. With - what would hopefully be the last - essay you finished, you officially wrapped up your last year at the university. In celebration, you felt like you deserved your favorite drink and a treat.

But, as you stuffed your paper in your bookbag and rounded the corner, you saw sights that were all too familiar. Yet, the combination was something unexpected.

Steb, in his full officer uniform complete with a helmet instead of the beret, walking out of your favorite cafe with a small, paper bag in his hands. You raised an eyebrow as you quickly walked toward him.

"Hello, Officer!"

You chuckled as he looked up confused, not expecting your voice to be there, much less to be calling him 'officer'. He had gotten so used to hearing his name from you that this felt unusual. Thankfully, the street was nearly empty with the exception of Caitlyn and Maddie who stood at the far end of it.

"I didn't know you liked this cafe!"

You stopped walking when you reached him, fiddling with the hem of your academy uniform. He swallowed as he nodded. Well, he didn't like the cafe. At least, he had never gone there before.

"It's for you."

His smooth voice filled your ears. His speaking voice was something that you wish you could hear every single day. Not that he had never spoken out loud - but every single time he did made it feel like fireworks going off in your chest. Steb blinked once, the scales on his cheeks twitching as he held out the paper bag to you.

"Vanilla strawberry cake, fruit tea. For finishing your essay."

Your hands stopped pulling at the fabric of your vest as you looked at his outstretched hand and back to his face.

"Was planning to come toward the Academy. Had not expected you here."

"No... No, I -" You were at a loss for words, "Yeah... I was... walking."

With a raised eyebrow, Maddie looked at you and Steb.

"Is he... talking?" she nearly laughed at her friend - she had barely heard his voice before, "To the librarian, no less!"

Caitlyn looked back over her shoulder, seeing the officer standing right next to you.

"Leave him be, Officer Nolan."

He nearly chuckled at your flushed state, taking hold of your hand to wrap it around the handle of the bag itself. You were unable to keep your eyes off of him, taking in each and every detail of his sparkly, silvery blue eyes.

"Tuesday?"

You only nodded in response, your hand still tingling from where he held you as you watched him turn and walk toward his colleagues. It was impossible to keep all the giggles inside as you just skipped back to your dorm, a big smile on your face as you placed the paper bag on your table.

It was a surprise to even see him today, let alone see him holding your favorite treats. After throwing your bag to the side, you sat down in your chair, humming as you opened the bag. Inside was the tea and the cake, but also another object.

'Thought of you. - Steb'

A small booklet with even more pictures of the view over Piltover, taken from countless different buildings. You nearly dropped the cup of hot tea as you slowly stood up from your chair, flipping through the pages. Piltover Academy, the Councilor building, the library. During sunset, during the night, in both summer and winter.

You looked over your shoulder, the (slightly crumpled up) note next to the cake. He had thought of you? It made your heart jump as you ran your fingers over his neat handwriting. No matter how many times you had seen it, it felt just as special as the first time.

This... friendship came so unexpectedly, yet you wouldn't change it for the world. Steb, his stoic yet friendly face - a constant in the chaotic world you lived in. He made your heart beat faster. Was that something that friends did?

You liked to think that you knew him pretty well by now - when his ears twitched or his scales fluttered, you could point out exactly why. He did not talk often, and when he did, he was fairly straight to the point, though his smooth voice never made it sound malicious. No, instead you replayed those moments over and over, making sure to never forget what he sounded like.

And, as you could see by the contents on the table, he knew you pretty well, too. This was not the first time he had brought you something or that he remembered a small fact you had told him.

Tuesday.

While walking through your hall and toward the door, you glanced at the bulletin board that you had hung on the wall. Receipts, pictures, written notes. One last smile as you saw '- Steb' before slinging your bag over your shoulders and walking out.

You had not seen Steb since he gifted you the tea and cake, but you knew he would be at the library today. Every single Tuesday, exactly at 3pm. So, after organizing all the books, you patiently waited.

No one was in the library today. The weather was not great, even with the sun shining.

You had picked up another book, sitting at the window with a cup of cold water, sipping it as you turned a page. The opening and closing of the door grabbed your attention as you immediately looked up, seeing Steb walking in with a bag slung over his shoulders.

No uniform today. No beret hiding his hair and no gloves covering his hands. Instead, he wore something much more casual. A buttoned shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark blue pants, and simple boots. In his hand, he held a jacket. Huh, he must have been warm, then.

"Hey!"

A small smile formed on his face as he nodded, walking closer to the window before pushing one of the chairs back, sitting down next to you.

"I can't believe you made it today," you hummed, leaning over to pour him a glass of water, "The weather doesn't really call for it. Though, I don't mind it much. Actually quite like the clouds!"

Steb glanced around the library, seeing that it was completely empty, before looking at the glass of water.

"Thank you," he spoke, nodding, "I have my day off."

He took a sip, enjoying the cold of the liquid as his ears moved back.

"When are you finished?"

"Not long from now," you closed the book, "It's already getting late. Around an hour, maybe?"

The man nodded, his hand still wrapped around the glass.

"Can I walk you home?"

"Are you sure?" you furrowed your brows, looking back at him, "It's a long wait."

"I can read in the meanwhile. It's already getting dark out now."

"You don't mind?"

He shook his head.

"Need help putting anything away?"

So, for the rest of the hour, you and Steb roamed around the library, putting away the last few books. You pointed out some of your favorite books that you had read as Steb listened, sometimes asking a question or two just to see you light up again. As you looked over at the clock, you saw that it was only five minutes till closing. This entire time, no one had come in, so what were those extra minutes?

You put on your coat as Steb had already taken your bag, slinging it over his own shoulder before following you out. You made sure that the door was locked behind you before pushing the key into your pocket, walking next to the man.

It was quiet for a minute. Piltover had not been this empty for a while now. The weather was not quite perfect for a stroll, but even with the cold nipping at your fingertips, you still enjoyed it. Any minute spent with Steb was an enjoyable one.

"It seems like I have forgotten something," he spoke up, his voice as soft as a summer breeze, "Is it okay if we stop somewhere?"

"Of course, lead the way!"

He turned to his left as you followed, looking around as you tried to distract yourself from walking alongside the one person who seemed to always be on your mind. His cologne or perfume - whatever it was, it smelled good.

As the two of you stopped in front of a door at the side of a big building, he turned to you.

"Close your eyes?"

"I... what?"

"Do you trust me?"

You let out a chuckle, looking up at him.

"Steb, you can't just use that against me."

He silently raised an eyebrow which made you laugh even harder, nodding your head as you finally closed your eyes.

"Okay, okay!"

You felt his hand take hold of yours, hearing the door open and close back behind you. Where was he taking you? You heard buttons being clicked and doors sliding open as Steb softly tugged you along. Were you in an elevator? It dinged as you heard the doors again, the warm hand in yours slowly guiding you forward.

It was hard to keep your eyes closed as you so desperately wished to see what was so secret, but you trusted him. A gust of wind hit you in the face, making you gasp and nearly open your eyes, but Steb beat you to it. His hand quickly covered your eyes as his arm wrapped around your shoulder, taking small steps to get you exactly where he wanted. Then, after what felt like ten minutes of a secret mission, you felt his hands move.

"You can open them."

You blinked a few times, shaking your head as you looked at the view in front of you. With your mouth open and your eyes wide, you stepped forward, hands resting on the railing that was set in place.

There, right there, was Piltover. Every shimmering light that resembled a home, every streetlamp that lit up the way, the water in the far distance. All the pictures you had admired in the architecture book seemed to have sprung to life, moving right in front of your very eyes.

You could not believe it. Was this a gadget made by some scientists to make you experience your dreams? It was simply impossible to tear your eyes away from the sight, yet you did.

Right there, already looking at you with a tiny smile on his face, was Steb. Steb, the man who guided you up to this spot. Steb, the one who made your dreams a reality. Steb, who held your heart.

Steb, the one with his face dangerously close to yours.

Your eyes flickered from his lips to his sparkly eyes as you were simply unable to speak. Every single detail on his face seemed to have been crafted by only the most talented hands, and you nearly felt like you had been blessed to even see him.

Slowly, you inched closer, and somewhere in the middle, you touched.

Fireworks, the sun, sparkles, glimmers. All at once, they surrounded you. His hand softly placed on your cheek, his lips soft and warm. It was sweet, it was truly as if you had fallen asleep only to experience your biggest desire.

"How did you..." you whispered, softly pulling back yet still staying in his arms, "Where are we?"

"You asked for my favorite," he smiled, his eyes slightly crinkling, "This is it. Piltover's Councilor building."

And then you finally recognized it. The golden details, the dark blue accents, the tile floor. It was the Councilor building.

"Steb!" your mouth fell open again, your hand on his chest, "How did you sneak us in here!"

He snorted, shaking his head before turning his face to the skyline. He was serious - this was his favorite view from any Piltover building. Even if he was here more often than the usual person, he almost had a newfound appreciation for it. Be it formed from the book you had recommended him, or from the sparkles that would appear in your eyes whenever you looked up at it.

You also looked out to Piltover, your hands still holding onto one of his as you softly rested your head against his shoulder.

"Commander Kiramman authorized our access," he said, "I know you asked for me to tell you about my favorite from the book. What better than for me to show you?"

And so you stayed, watching over Piltover as Steb watched over you. That was, until your eyes could not keep themselves open anymore, sleep pulling at your sleeve yet you refused to leave. You did not want to - you wanted to stay here, with the view, and with Steb.

"It's time for you to sleep," he whispered, his thumb rubbing your hand.

"Come home with me?"

[mywritersmind]

DONT CRY OVER SPILT COFFEE - LN4

summary : A horrible morning made worse by a man in a matcha colored hat, spilling coffee down her shirt and maybe ending up being the hero she needs for her final.

listen up : no warnings!! okay hiii i fell off the face of the planet for a sec lol! i’m fine and thank you for all your sweet messages! honestly i was just burnt out and have nooo ideas plus school and sports are kicking my ass. i love you all so much and hope you enjoy this!

words : 1940

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I try to steady my breathing as I bite back tears. It’s a small thing, really… I ordered a latte and they gave me a steaming hot black coffee.

I would have been fine, simply asking to return it if not for the horribly rude barista and my morning out of hell. So I give up and drag myself out of the little shop, opening the heavy door and promptly colliding into the man across from me.

I swear, loudly, this is the absolute cherry on top of the start of my day. I honestly expect him to run off and roll his eyes, but with tears in mine and hot coffee on my shirt, he rushes to apologize.

“I’m so fucking sorry- shit! I’m an idiot… Let me buy you another one, and a top. Honestly I’m so sorry.” The British man is rambling as I wipe my tears, something his green eyes widen at, horrified that he made me cry. As I blink away the tears, I'm immediately threatened with more because he’s hot!

“No… It’s okay.” I sniff, cursing the universe for making me act like a fool in front of a man this attractive. “I wasn’t even going to drink it.” People are staring at us now and the workers have already started to clean the mess beneath my feet.

“C’mere.” He says softly, taking my hand and leading me to a more secluded part of the cafe, “I’m really sorry.” He’s pulling off his flannel now, a plain white t-shirt now visible as he hands the red and white button up to me, “Please change, I feel horrible. I’ll get you another drink, maybe one you actually enjoy?”

I don’t know why, but if it was any other day, I would have brushed this off and left with no words. But today, I really need this. I nod, telling him my actual order, and retreating to the bathroom as he gets in line.

The shirt does not fit me. I’m wearing a denim skirt with it and it looks like I'm wearing a dress, but honestly I like the look. I grab my shirt and leave the bathroom, my skirt splattered with coffee and the smell still on me.

I sit outside, not wanting to be stared at by everyone who saw me inside. He’s back quickly, two coffees in hand and a guilty smile on his face.

Now that my eyes aren’t blurred with tears, I get a better look at him. He’s tan and freckled, curls sticking out from under his hat.

I read his name on the cup, “Bob?” I say, a bit more judgy than I meant. My latte is cool against my hands, my skin hot from coffee and embarrassment.

He sits across from me, laughing a bit, “No uh… I’m Lando.” I wonder if they got his name wrong and I'm about to ask how someone makes that big of a mistake, but he starts talking, “Are you alright? Something tells me this isn’t just about a spilled drink.”

I sip my coffee, instantly happier with the taste of vanilla, “Honestly? It’s just been a shit morning.”

He smiles softly as a biker drives past us, the sun beating down on my legs, “Want to tell me about it?”

“I really don’t want to bother you anymore…” I try to distract myself with the flowers next to us but my eyes find him again.

“I deserve it- not that you’re a bother! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He blushes slightly, sipping his matcha.

“I really shouldn’t…”

“You can-”

“Okay so I’m a university student and for my final project in one of my journalism classes, I have to interview someone! Okay fine whatever it’s easy, I can do that! My professor is a massive bitch and didn’t even like my suggestion of interviewing my third grade teacher but whatever! I decided on it anyway even though everyone in my fucking class has like a million and one connections to insanely famous people so all of theirs is actually interesting!”

“Yours sounds interesting.” He shrugs.

“Thank you! Well, when I went to the school to interview her, I found out she’s dead!” His jaw drops, “Yeah! So now I'm just depressed because I loved that woman and I still don’t have a final. Plus just about everything went wrong while getting ready. I tore my favorite tights and lost my lucky bracelet, clearly, because I ran into you after this stupid shop got my order wrong!”

He’s smiling, looking at me with pity and a little humor, “That does sound like a lot.”

I bring my cup to my lips once more, breathless from my rant. Lando just hums, tapping his finger on the table, “Anyway I can help?”

“Unless you know anyone famous… and you’ve already bought me the correct coffee and listened to my rant, I can’t ask for more.”

“Well uh…” He bites his lip suspiciously, “I sort of do… know someone famous, that is.” My eyes go wide and my cheeks go red.

“No! I can’t bother anyone else, forget what I said.”

He’s smiling again, “Nope, you asked for it. I have a solution.”

“No… Lando I can’t.” He’s far too nice for someone I just met.

“It’s for your final! I don’t mind.”

“Sure you might not mind but the person I'm interviewing might!” At this, he makes a face. Somewhere between laughter and awkwardness. Then I have an overwhelming sick feeling as he starts again.

“You can interview me.” What the fuck have I done? He slides me his phone but my eyes are already squeezed shut. I hear him chuckle, “Y/n.”

“No no no.”

“Yes.” he nudges it against my arm as I slowly eye it. It's his instagram. His instagram with 9.4 Million followers.

I swallow, “I’m an idiot.”

“No. You’re just not into racing.” He’s right! I’m not. I’m really not! The photos quickly tell me that he is a formula one driver for McLaren. “Just ask me whatever you need. It’s not a bother.”

“Lando…” I feel like I've been dunked into cold water, and suddenly I realize that people are looking at us not because of my embarrassing mess, but because he’s famous!

“I’m not leaving until you ask.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms as if he’s on strike.

“You’re sure this isn’t overstepping- I mean I just met you and I barely even know what you do!”

“So then ask me.” He’s infuriatingly hot, his brow raised.

I hesitantly take my notebook out of my bag, uncapping my pen, and starting a new page.

My hand is shaking for some reason but the questions just flow out of me! He answers every one with a humble sort of confidence that makes me laugh.

In the span of thirty minutes, I learn everything about formula one and Lando Norris. Most of it is for my own curiosity but what I write down is all about Lando.

He’s quite charming and I wonder if he’s this open to every interviewer. “So you won something big…?”

He laughs, nodding, “Yeah. The Constructors Championship. It’s for the team, not really a specific driver.”

I hum, “But there is one for a driver…? And you don’t have it?” I ask bluntly.

He smiles slowly, “No… I was in the fight mathematically but we started too late. Trust me though, next year's mine.” He winks and it’s the first time he acts cocky and honestly sure of himself.

“Well… those are all my questions.”

“Oh. Well, This has been my favorite interview yet. I hope I was almost as inspiring as your third grade teacher…”

I laugh, sitting back in the wiry chair, “I think I might just pass this class and get my teacher to like me.”

“That won’t be because of me though. You’re a good journalist, I can tell.” His eyes are soft when he speaks to me, leaning forward and drawing my eyes to his arms.

Fuck how did I not realize he’s got that whole rich athlete vibe.

I take one last drink of my coffee, the ice sounding and my frown apparently, “Thanks again… I hope I didn’t ruin your day or anything.”

“If anything, you made it better. I’m not exactly the press’ favorite but I'd like to be yours, just so when you start interviewing more F1 drivers, you’ll see how amazing I am.” He scrunches his nose as I laugh.

“Right… Well, I should really get going.” Something flashes across his face as I go to stand, “Oh shit, your shirt!”

“Keep it. You look better in it than I do.” I narrow my eyes at his flirtatious words.

“Do you flirt with all your interviewers?”

“Only the cute ones who I meet with coffee down her shirt.” His smile is insane, I have a feeling I shouldn’t entertain this, that he’s just another big dick athlete who can get any woman he wants.

But then he tugs at his necklace, something he explained to me was his logo, and I wonder what the harm is in having one thing in my day go right.

As if he can hear my thoughts, he sits up straighter, “Let me take you out.”

I did not expect him to ask that! My cheeks go pink as I shake my head. Something tells me that Lando Norris doesn’t take the word ‘No’ very well.

“You can give me my shirt back then.” He grabs my pen from my hand scribbling his number upside down onto my page of notes. “Please?” His handwriting is just legible enough for me to make out the numbers.

“Did you just say please?” I let out a laugh, glancing down at the black ink.

“I’ve heard there’s some magic in it.” He smirks, “I’m not above begging you. Come on, what’s the harm in apologizing over a nice dinner?”

“You already apologized over coffee.”

“You really don’t want to go out with me?” He looks at me as if I've just stepped on his puppy. I try to talk, then shut my mouth and look away.

“I’m in university.”

“I never finished school.” I raise a brow at his words. “What? I thought we were just exchanging our schooling records.” He’s smirking again, “Come on Y/n…”

“You’re famous.”

“You will be one day.” I truly can’t believe this is happening to me, “You’re gorgeous, Y/n. And you have every right to turn me down. Just say no.”

He’s got me there and we both know it, “I’ll text you my final, maybe if I get full marks then i’ll say yes.”

He stands with me, “I'm very confident you will.”

“Good luck driving… or whatever.”

He laughs, “I’m really glad I spilled coffee all over you.”

I roll my eyes and start walking away, “Goodbye Lando.”

He calls after me, “See you soon, Y/n!”

[honeytonedhottie]

decentering men and recentering urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽💓

the secret to decentering men and not having ur entire world revolving around them (bcuz it should be revolving around you, duh) is having a fulfilling life. it makes me ICK so bad when im watching a video or reading a post and im rly loving it, and then it'll find SOME way to make it revolve around men. like can we not?…💬🎀

WHY WE CENTER THE OPPOSITE SEX ;

a lot of people find themselves centering their lives around the opposite sex in an attempt to fill a void within themselves. they do it because they aren't happy with themselves or their lives, or maybe its learned behavior. whatever the reason is, its NOT hot.

some things that someone who centers men might think are "oh my life is so boring, maybe it would be spiced up if i got with a man" or "maybe it'll bring some excitement into my day" like EUGHHH. obviously the solution is to find ways to make our lives fulfilling but how do we do that? and how do we get to the root cause and squash this self sabotaging behavior?

SELF AWARENESS ;

if u have nothing going on for u, ofc ur gonna be energetically desperate and accepting anything and EVERYTHING. practice self awareness and try to get to the root cause of why u center men through things like shadow work, therapy, or just straight up having an honest conversation with urself cuz i swear it helps.

when you make the conscious effort to build ur dream life you'll notice that people that are on the same mindset as you will vibe with the REAL you. the need to fake/adjust urself to fit in with other people will dissipate because ur fitting into ur own standards and ur connections will be more meaningful because of it.

TAKE UR POWER BACK ;

no ones actions should ruin ur day or make u upset for more then a day (even less) cuz its YOUR world. 💕🍰

make time for YOU, doll. plan self care routines for urself every week. doing face masks, journalling, vision boarding, WHATEVER U LIKE TO DO. making time for urself reminds u that ur the main character of ur life so u dont have to settle for crumbs.

stop giving that power to someone else and dictate how u feel, NOT the actions of a significant other or the opposite sex or anybody. the reason why its important to make sure that ur the center of ur own life is so that you can be happy and fulfilled regardless of if there is a man or if there isnt a man present. so the objective is to decenter men -> and then put yourself at the center

GET A HOBBY ;

find something to make ur life fulfilling. pursue ur OWN interests and try out different hobbies if ur unsure of what ur interests are yet. cultivate ur world to the point where it GLEAMS with perfection and then do a little extra. build a life that u love so much that whether u get male attention or validation doesnt even matter cuz their opinions have little to no relevance 💀

challenge yourself: next time you catch yourself thinking, ‘would a guy like this?’ flip it and ask urself "hey, do i like this?" start checking with yourself first instead of checking with others.

MAKING THE DECISION TO DECENTER MEN ;

decentering men simply means that ur deciding to no longer think, feel, act, dress, or plan ur life around a man or for the validation of any man…💬🎀

relationships will actually get BETTER when u decenter the opposite sex. cuz ur not looking for someone to compete with and ur whole on ur own. this sets the stage for balance and mutual respect and THATS hot.

you can be in a relationship and still decenter men. decentering men simply means that you are the priority, not the relationship. how can we tell if we're decentering men or not? here are a few questions to help you know if u are ->

if i did not care about looking good to the opposite sex what would i actually like to wear?

if i did not get married, how could i create the best and most abundant life for myself?

what hobbies/interests do i have that dont involve being around men/have male attention as a component of it?

[elstattoo]

𝙇𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙙𝙪𝙚

MINORS DNI, MEN DNI

WC: 5.5k

Summary: Ellie invites you to a dance in Jackson, and you finally decided it was the night to make a move.

Content: 18+, jackson! ellie, loser! ellie, smut, public sex, switch! ellie, switch/sub! reader, fingering (e), scissoring, breeding kink, praise/dirty talk

Author’s Note: Hello! I finally finished this fic from my first request. I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry if it’s not exactly what was wanted… scissoring is just hot ☹️

Ellie felt like at any moment she might crack. The pressure of Jackson slowly getting to her, patrols dragging on constantly, and tonight… Of course, it was the party she’d dreaded since the posters were plastered around town. Everywhere, haunting her. No matter where she turned.  

She’d heard by ear from none other than Dina and Jesse, the two nagging her to invite you to go. The idea made butterflies flutter inside her stomach, cheeks burning — the stutter not going unnoticed by Dina, who teased her. 

Ellie felt herself wanting to hurl, anxiety overtaking her emotions as she finally braced herself to knock on your front door. Finally finding the courage to ask you to the party, even if it was tonight. Better late than never. With sweaty, shaky hands she knocked on your door, backing away afterward and tugging to fidget the sleeves of her flannel.  

The sound of your door opening made her jump, eyes jolting up to your familiar face. Her heart pumping in her ears, fidgeting, halting, before she cleared her throat to speak. “Hey, sorry for randomly dropping by… Just was wondering if you’d like to uh… Come to the dance with me?”

There you stood, hand still on the door with a confused look on your face at Ellie’s unexpected appearance before your lips morphed into a smile. You waved her in, “Let’s talk inside, Ellie.”

Still scatterbrained, Ellie nodded, following after you inside to the warmth of your home. The door closed with a click, and you hummed, turning to face her. “So… The dance you say? Yeah, I’d love to go with you! Also… why are you just wearing a flannel right now?” Your eyebrows furrowed upon seeing the light material draping over her shoulders, confusion to her idea of protection from the cold. 

Ellie’s mouth almost fell open, her jaw would be on the floor if it could be from how shocked she was. Ellie tried to shake off the feeling, tongue swiping over to wet her dry lips. “Yeah, and you’re like a house over from me…. It’s not THAT cold,” Ellie shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. Even though the weather in Jackson had her shivering at times, especially during the winter months. 

You let out a snort, walking over to Ellie, who stood awkwardly in the middle of your house — not knowing where to place herself. “Don’t play smart with me, we all know you’re freezing your ass off.”

Ellie shuffles at your words, “Oh, shut up, I’m fine!” She rolled her eyes, playfully, a grin stretching across her face. The jokes helped ease her anxiety, reminding her it was just you, and at the end of the day you were one of her closest friends, in all of Jackson. 

You returned her eye roll with your own, using your elbow to shove her into the side. She groaned, grabbing her side dramatically, and glaring at you. “How dare you?!” She gasps out, “Hitting my most vulnerable spot. Could’ve killed me…”  

That had you both erupting into a fit of laughter, you both almost felt like kids again from the exchanges you’d share like this. When the laughter in your chest finally died down, you were finally able to find the words to speak. 

“Seriously, though, I’d love to go to the dance with you. You should’ve asked me sooner!” 

Ellie let out a sigh and leaned her frame against your kitchen counter, “Fuck… Dunno you know how I am. Just get in my head and stuff.” 

Ellie always second-guessed everything she did when it came to you. No matter how much she journaled away her thoughts and feelings about you, she never could calm down the nerves that erupted when she was with you. 

Your hand brushed her shoulder, a shiver shot down her spine. Another reason, she second-guessed things, your friendship — was for reasons exactly like this. The way you held your hand on her shoulder, gently humming and holding eye contact with her made her crumble.

“We’re friends, El. You don’t have to be worried, not like I’d say no,” you whispered, so sweetly, leaning close to her ear, breath fanning the outer shell, and your hand was still pressed onto her shoulder. Then, in a blink of an eye you moved away again.

She nodded, “Yeah, of course. I’m really happy you agreed to come with me, I should uh… Go home and clean up before then… See you in a few hours?” She nervously smiled at you, still recovering from the littlest bit of contact you held on her shoulder. Ellie aways tried to play off your touches, even the lingering ones as something you did with everyone. 

“Of course, see you soon, El.” Your smile that held so much affection, adoration never left your face as you held the door open for her and waved goodbye, even waiting a few seconds to watch her silhouette leave your walkway to make her way home. 

Ellie huffed out a sigh of relief as she made it inside the warmth of her room. She collapsed onto her bed, a million thoughts drifting through her head, ones of excitement and anticipation of what the night would bring. 

Lying in her bed with her thoughts wasn’t doing her any good, she laid up, and walked over to her desk to jot in her journal.

“Holy fuck, still cannot believe she said yes,” Ellie whispered, grabbing a pen and opening to a blank page. She always started her entries on new pages, or sometimes even updated them, later in the day. 

Ellie got to writing, finding it somewhat therapeutic to write out how she feels. She found it easier to spill it on paper, finding it complicated telling people how she felt. A diary allowed Ellie the ability to illustrate and write about how she felt, and keep it to herself. She always carried the small notebook with her, even on patrol. 

‘I asked her to the dance, she said yes, touched my arm!!!! Doesn’t mean anything Ellie! It does DONT! FUCK! UP! YOUR! FRIENDSHIP!’ 

Ellie messily scribbled a sketch of you, faint from memory alongside the words. She felt relief, dropping the pen after she finished her last scribbles and closed the diary. Even in her own room, she was paranoid someone would discover her journal so she never left it open. 

Ellie threw on a new pair of clothes, gave her half bun a quick fix, and loosely pulled on a red flannel. She noted she’d take an extra jacket for the party due to how cold it was earlier, shaking her head to herself at how right you’d been. She always pretended like she hated your teasing, it doing the opposite effect — making her more flustered about how you can combat her. 

Ellie felt more confident about the party, knowing you’d be together. She knew Dina and Jesse would be there, but often they’d get too lost in each other, and she’d become the third wheel. 

Ellie checked herself one more time in the mirror, her eyes scanning over the outfit. Her free piece of hair that often frames her face fell out, pinned back previously in a poor attempt, she blew at it, rolling her eyes and just let the damn strand of hair be. 

She checked the small clock by her bedside table, the numbers reading 5:30. Ellie bit her lip, noting she should leave now to your house. You weren’t far away, so she threw on her jacket and threaded through the frigid air of Jackson to your house.

Ellie was thankful you lived only a few houses away from Joel’s, she eyed the familiar path up to your doorway that she walked on, merely only a few hours ago. Unbeknownst to Ellie, you caught sight of her through your window and had the door opened before she could knock. 

Ellie sheepishly smiled at you upon taking in your appearance, her eyes raking over your outfit and how effortlessly gorgeous you looked. Her eyes were lingering on each article of clothing you wore, still taking in the aura you emitted, Ellie’s breath catching in her throat the more she looked at you.

She blinked, shaking her head quickly, “Hey! Are you ready for the party?”

With that she earned a giggle from you, the sound causing her cheeks to darken. “Yeah, let’s go,” you muttered, shrugging on your coat, closing your door behind you. Ellie waited for you on the bottom step, you bounced down the stairs and grasped one of her hands hanging by her side. 

The darkness of the night helped mask the bright pink her face was right now, hiding away her embarrassment from you. Even with gloves on both your hands to shield them away from the frosty air outside, Ellie felt sparks walking hand and hand with you to the party.

The two of you walked in silence to the center of town, the snow crunched beneath your feet, even when you weren’t talking, being together was pleasant. Ellie was the kind of person that, although she’s usually reserved with everyone in town, is the most caring for those she loves. That included you. She was particularly protective of you, even in the walls of Jackson. Another reason she was happy to accompany you to the dance; claiming you away for herself. 

You suddenly felt Ellie squeeze your hand, checking in on you, to which you nodded and squeezed back. A toothy smile blossoming on your face, one that made her want to pause that moment in time, capturing it on a camera forever. 

Unfortunately for her, she had to shake her head, Ellie smiling to herself as the two of you continued hand and hand to the party.

The party was loud, lights strung about the large room, helping further light the place and set an atmosphere for the party. Due to the time, the sun was already setting, the large windows dimming the room, lessening the natural light. A long food and drink table was placed in the corner with an assortment of different snacks and beverages. People were already dancing, chatting away, and drinking in their own groups. Thrown about were a few tables and chairs to eat and rest at.

Dina spotted the two of you entering hand and hand, Jesse stood next to Dina, wiggling his eyebrows at Ellie as the pair of you made your way over. Ellie rolled her eyes back into her skull seeing that you, however, were taking in the scenery and your surroundings. Ellie was thankful you didn’t witness Jesse’s stupidity. 

You greeted Dina and Jesse with a wave, your precious smile still etched on your face the whole way into the party. You let go of Ellie’s hand to remove your gloves, shoving them into your pocket, Ellie copied you and did the same. 

Dina smirked, a knowing grin on her face. She looked over at the two of you, still clad in your winter jackets. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head, “Let’s get these off and hang them up with the rest of them. With the heater in here you’ll overheat.”

“Thank you! You’re a lifesaver for already knowing where it goes, lead the way,” you muttered and you all went to hang up your jackets on the various free hooks available before heading back outside to grab food and drinks. 

Ellie took in your appearance once more: with your coat off, the fuzzy blue sweater you wore, long black jeans and combat boots appropriate for the raw bitter air that lasted for months until spring. Anything you wore complimented you perfectly, bringing out and enhancing your features, which Ellie loved, and the faint fairy lights kissed your skin so effortlessly. To say you were beautiful was an understatement, Ellie didn’t understand how you existed in a world like theirs. You were too good for this horrible, cruel world.

She felt her heartbeat speeding up, especially with your hand back in hers, dragging her over to the plethora of drinks laid out to offer. You hummed softly, eyes scanning over the many options, and finally deciding upon some vodka and lemonade. Ellie picked her own drink, the two of you dropping hands, sweaty from the connection. 

Dina and Jesse fiddled around and picked their own drinks, Dina topping off her previous one. Jesse took a sip, wincing slightly at the tang of the alcohol on his tongue. “Shit, this is strong,” he coughed, eyes closing in disgust. He scrambled to add some juice to it or something to make the drink less strong.

Dina, Ellie, and you stifled back laughter at his facial expression. Dina patted his back, “Can’t overdo it, babe,” she nonchalantly shrugged.

Jesse rolled his eyes, you sipped away at your own drink, eyes glancing to Ellie who stood beside you. You turned to face her, while Dina and Jesse dwindled in their own conversation. You took one more sip of your drink before bringing it down from your lips.

You licked away the remnants of liquor on your lips, “Ellie, can we dance?” You knew Ellie hated dancing, but sometimes she’d give in to you for certain things. You’d hope this would be a time she would, you crossed your fingers just in case.

Ellie turned to you, brows furrowed in concentration as if she were debating the idea. The idea itched in her head. “I would usually say no… But for you, yes.”

If sparkles could appear in your eyes, there would be when you heard those words leave her lips. A wicked grin appeared on your face, making Ellie also dread her answer. 

“Thank you! I’m so happy,” you hummed, moving closer to her to lean up and kiss her cheek. You felt bold and had never done something like that before to her.

Ellie’s breath hitched in her throat for a moment at the contact, she hadn't expected you to do such a thing. Her cheeks were set ablaze by it, her sensitive skin tingling from your kiss.  She only wished the kiss was on her lips. 

She nodded, taking a sip of her drink to help wash down the burning sensation throughout her body. Ellie felt too hot, even in the middle of winter. You somehow had that effect on her. When she seemed done with her drink, you grabbed her wrist, eyes drifting to the dance floor. 

She could read what you were directing her to, Ellie nervously swallowed and nodded.  Allowing you to drag her to the dance floor. It was a slow dance, the music calm, so you wrapped your arms around Ellie’s neck, her hands finding solace on your hips.

The two of you swayed to the music, your eyes locked onto Ellie’s green ones. She had no choice but to look at you, so she did. She never got to be this close to you, and knew full well she had to take advantage of it. Who knows the next chance she’d get to be close to you like this again.

“So…” you began, fingertips tickling Ellie’s hairline as they draped around her neck. “What do you think about the party?” 

Ellie's face scrunched, a small laugh bubbling from within her throat. “You know… I hate these things. It’s more fun because… you’re here.” 

Your eyes stuck to her face, trained on the various different sized freckles, the scar embedded across her right eyebrow, to others it made her look tough — but to you, it just added to her beauty. It was hard not to fall for her, and you didn’t hold back, returning her laughter. 

“Well, it’s more fun that you’re here, Ellie. I’m happy you asked me to come with you,” you muttered. Your eyes never ceasing from hers, confidence flowed through your veins due to the alcohol you’d consumed. 

Ellie was a jumpy person, a nervous girl you knew that. That’s why you wanted to see her twitch from teasing her. So you pressed on, hands rising to play with her hair. You swore over the music you heard her gasp, goosebumps prickling over Ellie’s skin. You moved her head to rest on her shoulder, making the distance between your bodies even tighter.

Ellie’s body felt like it was enveloped in fire, her mind spinning with thousands of possibilities. She decided this was just you still being friendly, wanting to dance with her since Ellie did invite you. Somehow, she always convinced herself of everything other than the truth — even if it’s staring at her in the face.

She didn’t push you away, she blinked a few times, arms tightening around you lightly, and continued swaying to the music. You breathed in her scent, it was a mix of pine and burnt wood almost. You enjoyed the comforting warmth Ellie brought, her whole presence always having your heart beating loudly in your chest. 

Her fingers brushed your sides, she swallowed. “Happy I finally had the guts to ask, I know it’s probably dumb… Because we’re friends.”

Suddenly, you pulled up from where you rested on Ellie. Her face contorted into a look of surprise, you tucked the stray hair framing her face behind her ear. “Oh, Ellie…” you began, leaning your face closer to hers. “It’s not dumb, but I think… It’s not clear enough to you that I like you.”

Ellie’s brows furrowed, she was at a loss for words. Did you mean what she thought you did? Her mind was spiraling, rethinking the words you just blurted out, picking them apart word by word. Before she could ask you anything, your lips were pressed against hers.

You kissed her slowly, your eyes already closed when you leaned into the kiss, Ellie’s eyes remained opened for a second. She blinked rapidly, slowly processing what was happening, her eyes fluttered shut — finally eagerly returning the kiss. 

You two got lost in the kiss almost forgetting you were in a room full of people, too lost in the moment and each other. Ellie’s hands eagerly pressed into your waist, moaning quietly in the kiss. At that, she pulled away, realizing the noise that slipped out and her eagerness. 

You smiled cheekily at her, finally happy you’d taken it upon yourself to make a move after wanting Ellie for so long, hinting at it with your lingering touches and glances. You’d had enough and sealed the deal with a kiss. 

Ellie herself had a small smile on her face, face flushed from the kiss. “I- Definitely wasn’t expecting that…” 

You leaned close again, lowly talking so only she could hear you. “That was the point, Ellie… Now follow me.”

Your hand grabbed hers, pulling her along to wherever you decided. The bathroom was the most private, quiet place you could think of, so you chose there. There was no care for anyone else in the world right now except Ellie, and you wanted her alone. The two of you excused yourselves past people and made a bee-line to the restroom.

Ellie stuck close behind you, her hand growing clammy in yours as the two of you approached the bathroom door. She hadn’t put the pieces together yet in her head, realizing that you wanted her alone. All to yourself. 

The poor girl was still flustered from the previous kiss, never once thinking your friendship would cross that line. It wasn’t something she minded, she was happy — but it all felt surreal. 

The door clicked open with ease, you pulled it aside, allowing the two of you to step into the small, private bathroom. Ellie followed in after you, hand still clinging to yours. Once she was inside, you dropped Ellie’s hand and went to lock the door. The lock clicking into place, echoing in the small space. 

Ellie nibbled on her lip, unsure of what to do or say now that you two were in the bathroom. She didn’t have to say or do anything because you did it for her.

You slyly walked over to her, the distance between your bodies only inches apart. Your eyes fell to her face, her nibbling away at her lip, and how flushed her face looked underneath the lighting of the bathroom. 

“Ellie…” You began, finally breaking the silence. “I wanted to come somewhere more private and this was the first place I thought of… so.” 

For some reason, being alone with Ellie made you more nervous than you thought. Even with your previous booming confidence, it was like it all flushed away once you were enclosed in the bathroom with her. Your feelings for the girl overwhelmed you, causing your heart to swell and throb within your chest as if it were an over inflated balloon about to burst. 

Ellie shifted her body, eyes glued to the floor. She nervously chuckled at that statement, still not meeting your eyes. She mumbled, unsure if you'd even hear it. “So… what was that?” 

The ‘that’ in Ellie’s statement, obviously, alluded to the kiss you had initiated, which left her bewildered and unsure of your true intentions. Her mind was reeling from uncertainty. Was your kiss driven by alcohol fueled impulses, or did it hold a deeper meaning, signaling that you harbored genuine feelings for her? 

Your soft touch against her cheek gently snatched Ellie’s thoughts away. Her focus was suddenly centered on your shimmering eyes, the lines of your forehead creasing in concern, and the way your hand felt caressing her cheek. She found herself momentarily bereft of words, caught off-guard by the intimate gesture.

Your whisper broke the silence, “It was a kiss, and if it wasn’t already obvious… I like you, Ellie.” Your proximity grew even closer, almost chest to chest, and your faces now mere inches apart, as your gazes remained locked together, the room filled with unspoken tension. 

Ellie’s lips parted, you watched as her eyes fell to your lips, then quickly back to your eyes. The air between you thickened, all you could hear in the air was yours and Ellie’s breathing. You grinned, closing the distance again. Ellie tenderly returns the kiss and places her calloused hands on your hips.

You pressed into her body, her back hit the wall, she groaned feeling the coldness of it. This allowed you to slide your tongue into her mouth, swirling your tongue around hers. It was messy and hungry, a tumble of emotion surging into the kiss, the both of you could feel it. 

Kissing Ellie like this felt intoxicating, you wanted more, you sucked her bottom lip, lightly nipping it. Ellie groaned into your mouth, your tongue swallowing the noise. The two of you separated, chests heaving for a breath of air. 

You removed your hand from her face, fingers ghosting around her neck, digits softly brushing against the skin. Ellie shivered, skin flushed from the frantic kisses, and just the situation she found herself in. 

You broke the silence first, beating Ellie to speaking. “Guess that means… that you like me too?” You teased, this made Ellie flush more and shake her head. 

“Of course, I like you. Shut it!” Ellie whined, closing her eyes and leaning her head back into the wall. 

You lifted a finger to her mouth, brushing against her plump lips, slightly blotchy from your nibbling. “You should shut it, Ellie,” you mumbled, not stopping there, leaning your head down to the collar of her neck, lips ghosting over the skin before you pampered a column of kisses down her neck. 

Ellie groaned, her hands faltering to your hair, the sensation of your kisses went straight to her core. You licked and sucked away at her neck, making sure to leave bruises in your wake. Ellie felt you softly whisper against her neck, the sound angelic to her ears. “Ellie… you should let me touch you.”

She opened her eyes abruptly, looking down at you, bewildered at the statement. She remembered where the two of you were, the bathroom. She swallowed hard, outweighing the situation in her head. This was definitely something she couldn’t pass up nor did she want too. You clearly didn’t have a care in the world, dragging her in there in the first place. 

So, she finally gave in. “Please touch me, just… we can’t be loud.”

“We? You mean… yourself, Ellie,” you pressed more kisses down her neck, fingers dancing to the button of her jeans. You undid it, then unzipped her jeans. You patted her thigh, “C’mon need these off.”

Ellie nodded, you backed away to give her space to shrug the material down her legs a little. “Not taking them fully off,” she huffed, not wanting to be pantless in a public restroom, nonetheless. You smiled, understanding and the item being half down her legs was more than enough. Ellie tugged down her boxers too, feeling embarrassed at you eyeing her most intimate part. 

Once gone you could see her wet pussy you almost started drooling, wanting to delve your face into it, but not yet, another time. Your tongue skimmed across your bottom lip, quickly closing the distance between the two once again in a searing kiss. 

Ellie felt light headed in the way you stared at her; predator to prey, before drowning in the pleasure of your lustful kisses. She didn’t want this to stop, her pussy growing slicker with arousal.

Your fingers made their way to her pussy, she whined into the kiss, feeling your colder digits touch her. Ellie abruptly pulled away, her usual bright green eyes darkened as she spoke to you. “Please… finger me, please…” Ellie mewled, raising her hips to rub against the two fingers you had exploring her folds. You rolled your eyes, fingers finding her needy hole and slowly, almost agonizingly inching your fingers in.

Ellie was soaked from the anticipation as your fingers filled her up. She brought your lips back to hers, pushing her tongue into your mouth and massaging yours along hers. This caught you off guard, your fingers inched out of her before you slammed them back into her. Ellie’s moans were swallowed by your mouth, you were grateful for that, knowing she’d be loud. Too loud.

Ellie swore she was on cloud nine, the music muffled against the walls of the bathroom, your sloppy kisses never failing to add to the feeling. She pulled away, looking down to see your fingers pumping in and out of her. 

The squelching and wet noises didn’t go unnoticed by either of you. A smirk made its way onto your face, enjoying how needy she was, even her body was trembling for attention. It made you hungrier, the need to make her feel so good that she’d beg for more consuming every fiber in your body.

Ellie shyly stuffed her face into the corner of your neck, wanting to lessen the sounds she made. Your pace didn’t falter, you instead took her hiding away as a challenge. A challenge to make it hard for her to hold back her sounds. 

She squinted her eyes shut, tiny sounds slipping past her lips. You wished you could see her doe eyed expression, face contorting into pleasure as you fucked her. You used your free hand to move her face, gripping her face with one hand, while the other was busy, delving inside her wet pussy. 

Ellie felt your hand clutching her face, tearing her away from your neck and to no one’s surprise at all, those little breathy moans were louder. Ellie gripped tighter, nails digging in the more aggressively you continued fucking her. Everything felt hazy to Ellie, desire building and building until she felt her vision fading out. Her back slouched against the wall, a burning sensation forming rapidly in her stomach, her hips jerked against your hand, needing that burning bubbling inside her to snap.

“Come on, Ellie. Are you going to cum for me? Huh?”

“Yes, oh.. My god. It feels good, please. Fuck c’mon don’t stop!” Ellie bit into her lip, hard enough to draw blood, her vision becoming blurry. “Shit… my god! I’m cumming… fuck.. Fuck!” The warmth in her stomach dispersed, with her legs shaking from the shattering orgasm. She clung to you, breathing hard.

You watched in awe as she came, “Holy shit, Ellie…” Her wetness leaked down the entirety of your fingers, still inside her, the rest of your hand was drenched in wetness. 

It was everything between Ellie clinging to you, then her orgasm hitting her hard and seeing someone, the person you’ve wanted and craved for so long look so angelic that you needed a taste. You pulled out your fingers, inserting the digits into your mouth, humming at the taste of her. Your tongue needed to savor the taste of her.

Ellie, still slouched against the wall, catching her breath, watched as you did this and her core clench, her mind dirtying with more thoughts of you. Your fingers exited your mouth with a pop, the bathroom succumbing to a silence.

Her pants and underwear were down by her ankles, she tugged them up and popped the button on her jeans. Her breathing and demeanor remained shaky, a smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, holy shit… Now we’re getting out of here.”

You quirked an eyebrow, about to question Ellie when she laced her hand gently through yours. “Are we really now?” 

She didn’t bother turning to look at you, already tugging the two of you towards the nearby door. Ellie unlocked the door, mumbling in a snarky tone, “Yeah, you don’t seem to be arguing though.” 

Ellie only had one goal now, that was getting to whoever’s house was closer and repaying you for making her feel so good. Even with the tons of people in the way, Ellie got out quickly past people, and had you not far behind her the whole time. You didn’t miss the wink and thumbs up Dina sent you, which in turn made you roll your eyes and smile. 

Clothes were thrown messily around your room, Ellie was on you within milliseconds of entering the space. Now she was on top of you, your leg hiked up with her pussy slotted against yours. You watched Ellie find her pace, her clit brushing yours just right, your hand soothed at her sides. 

Ellie watched your face contorting into pleasure, she sped up rocking her hips more roughly. “Fuck, want you to cum on my pussy,” she blurted out, too overcome with the thought of it. The very want and need of it growing heavier on her mind the more she fucked you. 

“Yeah? Want my cum, Els?”

She bit her lip, nodding her head frantically, still staring down at you. Her forehead was sweaty, dark locks clinging to her forehead, eyes squinted shut as she kept rolling her hips. Each time her clit caught yours, you let out breathy whiny noises; ones only Ellie could pull from you. It made Ellie’s clit throb, squelching from your shared wetness grew louder and louder the more frantically Ellie moved, chasing both your highs. It ignited the tension further, your hands on Ellie’s hips helping move her faster and faster. 

Your nails dug into her side, feeling yourself on the very edge, on the very tip of the iceberg; about to crumble. You whisper Ellie’s name, almost too quietly she doesn’t catch it. “Ellie… Please cum against me, breed me.” 

That made her go feral, your chest bouncing with each roll of her hips, Ellie whining at her swollen clit catching yours. “Yeah? I’m gonna promise… gonna breed you. Breed this pussy,” she groaned. “Oh my god,” Ellie’s movements grew slopper. “ I- Fuck! I’m cumming, I’m-” Her orgasm washed over her quickly, yours following shortly after, your legs spasming from the intensity. 

You moaned out Ellie’s name, her lips finding yours and swallowing the pleads and sounds coming from your plump lips. She lazily dragged her hips, riding out the feeling of your orgasms. Her body fell into yours, chests pressed against one another, bodies sheen with a layer of sweat. 

Ellie ended the kiss, pecking your lips one more time, moving herself more to lay down and rest her head against your breasts. You stroked a hand through her unkempt hair, smiling and welcoming the warmth of her body. “I’m.. happy we did this, Ellie.” 

She opened her eyes, holding a dazed look on her face. “Me too, this is unbelievable,” she left a soft kiss on your boob. Smiling as she pulled away, “And I really… do like you.”

Hearing her confirm it once again, with words, not actions made you want to scream with joy. “I know, El. I like you too now, lemme get up and clean us both up,” you giggled. Ellie pouted begrudgingly, moving off you.

You grabbed a towel, first cleaning Ellie off then yourself, before climbing back into bed. You moved Ellie’s back to rest against your chest, holding her tightly and pulling your bed’s covers up to envelope the two of you in warmth. Ellie let out a sigh, snuggling more into you, her skin tickling yours.

“Thank you,” you heard her mutter. 

“Don’t thank me,” you held her tighter, if possible. Never wanting to let her go, especially now that you both had each other.

Taglist♡: @livvietalks

[deminetly]

—ㅤ꒰ྀིㅤ ACTIVITIES FOR SHIFTERS ಿৎ

activities for people with fame drs

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

⋆ journal as your dr self

⋆ make a collage about your dr self (face claim, hair claim, body claim, hand claim, pets, room, house, style, general vibe)

⋆ write love letters to your s/o

⋆ watch storytimes of other ppl shifting to ur dr

⋆ make your social media profiles (twinote)

⋆ make moodboards for your drs/people in your drs

⋆ design your outfits (everyday, red carpet etc)

⋆ make a uquiz called “which one of my drs are you”

⋆ think of a trend to start in your fame dr

⋆ make up slang that people in your dr use

⋆ make shifting memes

⋆ make your dr room in roomsxyz

⋆ design your dr camera roll (from pinterest or go for a walk and take the pictures yourself)

⋆ go out and take pictures of places that remind you of your dr

⋆ draw/make picrews of your dr selves/friends

⋆ fill in pinterest templates about your dr self and your dr friends

⋆ make up a holiday and script it in your dr

⋆ make your own notion script template

⋆ make your own timetable for your school dr (make up new classes)

⋆ make a shifting bingo card of things you want to do in your dr

⋆ make posters about your drs (movies you acted in, your band, your school etc)

⋆ make yourself look like your dr self

⋆ go on google maps and walk around the area you want to shift to/serach up a yt video of someone walking around that place

⋆ organize your wardrobe and outfits (pinterest, combyne)

⋆ make up the whole film lore for your actor dr

⋆ write down (or even make up new) foods you would like to eat in your dr

⋆ make a playlist about your s/o or just dr in general

⋆ make up shifting methods

⋆ write down shifting methods, try them out and rate them

⋆ research the void state

⋆ make new places ans their lore for your dr, find pictures

⋆ watch documentaries about shifting

⋆ scroll through shifting tumblr and reddit

⋆ write down what a typical day in the life looks like for your dr self and follow that schedule for a day

⋆ write articles about your fame dr drama

⋆ script in a new tiktok trend you can do with your s/o

⋆ plan a halloween group costume for your dr self and friends

⋆ make a vision board for each dr

⋆ invent your own currency system for your dr

⋆ design a flag for the place youre shifting to

⋆ design merch for your fame dr

⋆ give random memes a twist so they would be about your dr

⋆ script a secret society (a hidden group in your dr with its own rituals, symbols and purpose)

⋆ design and script in tattoos for your dr self

⋆ write fanfic about random people in your dr/you and someone else from your dr

⋆ create new seasons for your dr

⋆ invent new amusement park rides to ride in your dr

⋆ invent a new zodiac system for your dr

⋆ make a board game based on your dr (locations, inside jokes etc)

⋆ script in a new restaurant and menu specifically for you

⋆ start a tumblr blog just for your dr (post things like day in the life of me, haul of what i just bought, new concert announcement etc)

⋆ make comics about your drs

⋆ make your own shifting school system (script: schedule, homework, building, uniform, topics you study, friend group, foods they offer during lunch, dorm room etc)

⋆ make a wikipedia about your (fame) dr self

⋆ make a magazine/newletter about your dr

⋆ take the rice purity test as your dr self then as your cr self and compare them

⋆ write a story/journal page/blog post of a success story as if you shifted (where did you wake up, who did you first talk to, what did you do, how did it feel, what was better than you expected, etc)

⋆ make a script for your cr

⋆ talk to people from your dr through tarot cards

⋆ make instagram stories as your dr self (collage pictures that fit the vibe and add a song your dr self would listen to)

⋆ script in fashion shows (think of cool themes, design the stage and outfits)

⋆ draw you and your dr friends / s/o together

[captainmalewriter]

Miss Pigwin's Journal

Among the myriad of stereotypes surrounding gay men, Ivan never really fit into any of them. He was never the flamboyant queen nor the circuit party gay. Ivan always considered himself to be more of a lone wolf type. Although many would find the life of a social hermit boring and exhausting, Ivan truly didn’t mind his quiet, solitary lifestyle. Just class, work, gym, rinse and repeat. It was a simple routine, but it was one that Ivan loved. 

One evening, after his engineering classes, Ivan made a quick pit stop at the local store before heading back to his apartment. He needed to buy a new journal after he had filled out the last page the night before. Journaling was a hobby that Ivan took very seriously. For the past five or so years, Ivan would take 10 minutes every night to write his complete, unfiltered thoughts in his journal before bed. It was a therapeutic practice for Ivan, and he did not plan to stop anytime soon. 

Ivan was hoping to find a stylish yet relatively cheap journal but was quickly met with disappointment instead as he made his way down the stationary aisle. The store had completely run out of notebooks! A nearby employee told Ivan that the overnight crew would restock the store and that he should return the next day, but he was too determined to give up after having gone through the trouble of walking to the store. He scoured the store until he finally found one misplaced notebook, although its gaudy design left much to be desired…

It was a bright pink journal with glimmering sequins and came with a large bundle of pink ribbon. The journal had an ugly cartoon drawing of a pig in a princess dress along with her name ‘Miss Pigwin’ written in glitter across the top of the cover page. Ivan pulled out his phone and did a quick internet search to find out more about the Miss Pigwin notebook. Apparently, it was limited edition merchandise for some obscure children’s cartoon that never made it past 5 episodes. The idea behind Miss Pigwin was that kids could better understand their pets by helping them communicate with them. Kids were tie a piece of ribbon around an animal, and with Miss Pigwin's help, they would become their best friends. At least that was what the old advertisements promised anyway.

Obviously, the designers meant it to be used for pets like dogs and cats, so it was no wonder the pink journal was quickly discontinued after kids tried to tie ribbons around dangerous, wild animals instead. All in all, it was just cheap scraps of overly decorated paper for imaginative little girls. 

Ivan didn’t care much for the girly pink notebook. However, it was still a notebook at the end of the day, and the $5 price tag was too enticing to give up. He bought it and promptly returned to his apartment where his roommate Jesse was hosting a few of his frat friends over for beer pong. 

Ivan and Jesse were not friends but they were civil enough as roommates. Jesse wasn’t officially a part of a frat yet, but he already had the wild personality of a frat brother anyway. Jesse’s constant partying and drinking was annoying to Ivan, so he often made himself scarce—  as he did that night. He went about his usual nighttime routine and thankfully, by the time he sat down at his desk to journal, all of Jesse’s guests were gone. But just before he could touch pen to paper, Jesse came stumbling into the room.

“Hey, bro, you got any ribbon or string by any chance?” Jesse asked. Ivan hesitated saying yes right away.

“Maybe, what for?” 

“There’s this stupid Tiktok trend going on right now. Dudes are tying a piece of ribbon around their bicep and flexing until it breaks. The bros are saying I need to do every trend I see if I wanna continue rushing.”

“Cool, makes sense. Here, you can have it all. I don’t need it.”

Ivan took the bundle of ribbon that came with the Miss Pigwin journal and helped Jesse tie a piece around his bicep. Although Ivan did not like Jesse in that way, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited as he wrapped the ribbon around his straight roommate’s muscular arm. It was probably the only time he’d be that close to Jesse, so he relished in the moment as much as he could. Once it was tied, Jesse thanked him and left the room to record his Tiktok. Meanwhile, Ivan returned to his journal and began writing. 

March 12th - I am soo fucking h*rny. Sometimes, I wish my roommate would give in to his secret desires and just makeout with me already. 

Just as Ivan finished writing the last letter, a terrifying scream coming from the living room interrupted his journaling session. He quickly ran out with the pink journal in hand and saw Jesse straining himself to break the ribbon. No matter how hard he flexed, the pink ribbon stayed firmly wrapped around his bicep.

Although Ivan was worried about the pink ribbon constricting Jesse's arm, he couldn't help but stare at the massive bulge in his roommate's gray sweatpants. It was huge! Was Jesse hard? Ivan always had a feeling that his straight roommate was packing some serious heat downstairs, but he would've never guessed he'd be that big and thick! Just seeing his bulge was enough to make Ivan's jaw drop!

"Dude is this ribbon made out of fucking titanium or some shit! Where the fuck did you even get this!?" Jesse yelled out in anguish. It was enough to bring Ivan back down to Earth.

"I don't know! It came free with this weird notebook I found."

"Whatever!! Just go get the scissors! This shit's way too tight, my arm's starting to go numb!"

"Right! Hang on, I'll be right back!"

Uh oh!!

Just as Ivan turned around to go get the scissors, a sudden high-pitched voice made him stop dead in his tracks. It was a girl's voice, and it was coming from the notebook in his hands. Ivan looked down and froze from what he saw. The cartoon princess pig had come to life!

Uh oh!! It looks like our new friend isn't being a very good listener! Let's play some music to help clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing a melody while soft piano music played. The music had no effect on Ivan, but it did on Jesse. Jesse suddenly stopped fighting and just laid flat on the floor. Within seconds, he had gone from a pissed off jock trying to rip the ribbon off his arm to eerily calm and relaxed. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled heavily. Jesse had a dazed look in his eyes once he opened them. He had a dull, almost sleepy-like expression plastered on his face too. It was like he was sedated by simply listening to Miss Pigwin's song! Only once Jesse was fully relaxed did Miss Pigwin finally stop the music.

Yayyy!! No more distracting thoughts! Now what did our best friend tell us?

Ivan watched in awe as Jesse got up from the ground while massaging his protruding bulge. His movements were almost mechanical, like a mindless robot following orders. He then began walking towards Ivan while reciting what Ivan had written inside the Miss Pigwin journal.

"I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate."

It was incredible. Despite having never read it, Jesse kept repeating what Ivan had written over and over like a personal mantra!

Once Jesse closed the gap between them, Ivan got a good look how dilated his pupils were. It was quite the sight to see, though Jesse didn't give Ivan any time to react. Instead, he quickly joined his lips with Ivan's and kissed him roughly. Ivan was caught off guard by the surprise kiss but quickly matched Jesse's energy as the two kissed like it was their last night being alive. Ivan could hardly believe it. He had gone from merely tolerating his roommate's existence to making out with him in the same night! He felt himself light up with joy and pleasure as Jesse's hairy chest pressed against his with every kiss.

They continued at it for a while, locking lips until they gradually moved towards the couch. From there, they both discarded any remaining clothes they had on. Ivan hopped into Jesse's strong arms and went in for another deep kiss. He was shuddering with anticipation as he felt Jesse's rock hard boner tap against his butt. Luckily for him, it didn't take them much longer until they decided to get into position. Ivan spit onto Jesse's cock to lube it up, then guided it into his hole. A deep, sensual moan escaped his mouth as Jesse slowly thrusted his hips into him. Inch by inch, his dick disappeared into his ass. The room then filled with the sounds of men grunting and heavy, cum-filled balls clapping against Ivan's cheeks. Ivan was in heaven, while Jesse was in a trance with only one thought in his mind. Give into his desires, and makeout with his roommate.

Ivan woke up the next morning feeling like a brand new man after the amazing pounding he had received from Jesse. To say he was in a state of bliss would be a massive understatement! Even just remembering the feeling of Jesse's massive cock inside of him was enough to make Ivan smile with delight. But his grin quickly faded when he reached out for the Miss Pigwin journal and found it wasn't where he had left it before falling asleep. Even worse, he found a piece of pink ribbon had been tied around his wrist while he was sleeping.

"No... Nononono NOO!!"

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty! Looking for something?"

To Ivan's horror, Jesse was holding the Miss Pigwin journal and he looked furious! Although, despite the present danger, Ivan couldn't help but notice that Jesse still had the same ribbon tied around his bicep.

"Hey man... Let's put down the journal, and have a civilized conversation between adults. I promise it's not what it looks like, just let me ex-"

"Nahh FUCK that. I'm glad I woke up just before you did, otherwise I would've never found out what the fuck you did to me with this weird journal. You always gave me weird vibes but this? I... I don't even know where to start I'm so MAD!"

Jesse slammed a fist against the wall, startling Ivan. He then let out a maniacal chuckle as he pulled out a pen and opened the journal.

"Alright, Ivan, you wanna fuck up my mind so badly? Two can play at that game!"

Loud scribbling filled the room. Once he finished, Jesse read out loud what he wrote.

"Ivan's too serious for his own good. He needs to lighten up and join my frat so we can become best bros forever!!"

"...That's stupid. I'm not gonna do that."

"Are you sure?"

Uh oh!!

"I think Miss Pigwin might disagree with-"

Ivan smacked the book out of Jesse's hands, catching him off guard. The journal landed against the wall with a loud thud. Ivan wasted no time making a break for the journal. He bought himself a few seconds by smacking it away from Jesse. Those few seconds were all he needed to open the journal to a new page and write something down. In the heat of the moment, he could only think of one thing to write.

"Jesse's gay 4 me!"

"YOU FUCKER! ERASE THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW!!"

Jesse grabbed the journal but Ivan had a tight grip on it. The two slammed into the nearby walls and furniture as they tried to wrestle it out of the other's hands. The Miss Pigwin journal was getting torn and crumpled up in the crossfire of their fight, but that didn't stop the princess from carrying out her sole purpose.

It looks- New friend- Good listener! Let's- Some music- clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing her soothing song, forcing both men into a hypnotic trance as they listened. They both fell to the ground screaming as the pink ribbons grew tighter around their bodies. They tried plugging their ears with their fingers, but it was already too late. The second they heard the first few notes of her song, Miss Pigwin was already deep within subconscious- ready to broadcast whatever was written in the journal directly into their brains. However, because the journal had gotten destroyed during the fight, Miss Pigwin's subliminal messaging turned out to be incredibly potent than usual.

Ivan fell back against the ground in a daze. He couldn't believe how discombobulated he was. It was like he was trapped underwater as he felt his mind beginning to clear of any and all thoughts. Ivan let out a heavy sigh as a powerful, cool calm filled his body. Soon enough, the only thing he could think about was how badly he wanted to become a frat bro just like Jesse. Ivan repeated his new life mantra to himself as his mind became hyper focused on only one goal.

"I need to lighten up... I need to join a frat... I need to become best bros with Jesse..."

A lot of his engineering knowledge got wiped away from his mind to make room for his new personality. Mathematics and physics were replaced with workout regimes and a strong, itching need to drink and get laid. The partying lifestyle of the frat bro that once repulsed Ivan became as normal as breathing to the former homebody gay man. Ivan tried resisting against Miss Pigwin's conditioning. He tried reminding himself how much he loved a quiet night at home by himself. He tried recalling how much he hated loud, obnoxious men who did nothing but party and drink all night. But everytime he tried fighting against it, the little voice repeating his mantra grew louder and louder until all opposition was completely stamped out. Ivan had been reborn.

As he rose from the ground with an altered conscience and personality, the only thing on Ivan's mind was how to maximize his gains the next time he hit the gym. After all, how could he even dare to show his face around his frat brothers if he couldn't keep up with them in terms of bodybuilding?

Meanwhile, Jesse laid out sprawled on the ground as a calm stupor washed over his aggravated mind. Soon enough, his mind became a quiet place where only one thought remained.

"I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay... For Ivan..."

Jesse repeated the same sentence to himself until the words no longer felt foreign leaving his mouth. Soon enough, saying he was gay for Ivan felt as natural as saying his name. His desires to sleep with women melted away from his subconscious everytime he recited his new mantra.

Like Ivan, Jesse tried fighting against it. He tried remembering the taste and feel of a woman's touch, but it was no use against Miss Pigwin's powerful conditioning. His memories of being with women were quickly fading. In their place, a deep, profound love for his roommate-turned-loved began to take hold. Within minutes, Jesse wanted nothing more in life than to stand by his boyfriend's side and make sure he felt loved.

Once Ivan and Jesse woke up to their new personalities, Miss Pigwin finished her song, never to be heard from again due to the journal being in tatters. Jesse woke up with a headache and with a grinning Ivan by his side.

"Good morning my handsome boyfriend, how'd you sleep?"

"Amazing because I slept with you, my love." Jesse joined his lips against Ivan's. The two shared a deep kiss filled with passion, ending with a loud smack when they finally pulled apart.

"You ready for today? I can't wait to start the rushing process, then we can join together!" Ivan flashed a wide smile. Jesse wrapped his hands around Ivan's neck.

"The frat can wait till later. Right now, I want you all to myself."

He pulled Ivan in for another kiss. The two men then proceeded to fuck all morning, completely unaware of the strange circumstances that led them to that point. All thanks to a little princess pig on the cover of a bright pink notebook.

[vague-humanoid]

The Wall Street Journal has an incredible story today. The National Archives museum, under Biden-appointed U.S. Archivist Colleen Shogan, has been working to reshape its narrative of American history in order to make white conservatives more comfortable. The Journal describes a pattern of efforts to shape its newest upcoming exhibits to better fit right-wing narratives of U.S. history. The museum has removed references to Martin Luther King Jr., Japanese internment, Native Americans, union organizers, and birth control, because presenting American history honestly would make Republicans upset. 

The changes to the new exhibits are remarkable. A photo of King was replaced with one of Richard Nixon meeting Elvis Presley. A “proposed exhibit exploring changes to the Constitution since 1787,” including “amendments abolishing slavery and expanding the right to vote,” was reduced in size, and employees were told that “focusing on the amendments portrayed the Founding Fathers in a negative light.” Shogan “told employees to remove Dorothea Lange’s photos of Japanese-American incarceration camps from a planned exhibit because the images were too negative and controversial, according to documents and current and former employees” and her aides “also asked staff to eliminate references about the wartime incarceration from some educational material.” An exhibit on coal communities “cut references to the environmental hazards caused by the mining industry.” Shogan’s aides “also ordered the removal of labor-union pioneer Dolores Huerta and Minnie Spotted-Wolf, the first Native American woman to join the Marine Corps, from the photo booth, according to current and former employees and agency documents.” A photo of Betty Ford wearing an Equal Rights Amendment pin was removed from a video, and in an exhibit of “patents that changed the world,” the birth control pill was replaced with, of all things, the bump stock. The Journal notes that "Shogan’s changes have delayed the opening of new exhibits, initially set for next summer, and are expected to add at least $332,000 to costs."

The explicit justification here was that the facts would hurt the feelings of guests who didn’t want to hear about union organizers and Native Americans. Visitors shouldn’t “feel confronted,” the Archivist said, but rather “welcomed.” Of course, Japanese Americans or Native Americans are unlikely to feel “confronted” by exhibits on their history, so the archivist was clearly referring to making white conservatives feel more at ease. In fact, an employee was specifically “told to look for success stories about white people.” And, looking over an exhibit about westward expansion, Shogan asked a staffer “Why is it so much about Indians?”

@britomartis @el-shab-hussein @ubernegro

this is making me actually insane..... this is how we fight fascism? by whitewashing history in a nationalistic myth?

[red-doll-face]

Heeyyy! Soooo I have a fun request idea that I totally came up with on my own with no help from anybody else, from my own mind and not some super creative person that answered my question about Arthur proposing to reader 🤣 it goes something like this:

-takes three months to work up the nerve and like another one to pick out one ring.

-chickens out at least two times bc the moment isn't right

-asks Hosea for advice 19 times (Hosea is tired)

-he's the trope where reader starts crying and he's like ohh goddd i fucked up of course you don't wanna marry my ass

-the way he would ride around for a week looking for the perfect spot to do it

-marks it on his map with a heart

-the essays he would write in his journal about this situation

-he's so cute i love him pls marry me Arthur Morgan

-awww once you say yes??

Hehehehe no pressure though!!!!! I just looooovvvveeeee this idea so much!

Yes !!! Yes of course I’ll write this!!! ❤️❤️💕💕🥰🥰😵‍💫😵‍💫😩😩As always it ended up running really long even though I didn’t even really flesh out a back story. 🥲 I’m glad you enjoyed my response ☺️☺️ I definitely had high honor Arthur Morgan in mind for this when I read it, I hope it’s ok and that you like it!!! I was so happy to see you in my inbox !!! @zae-heeyyy 💓💓💓💓💓 writing this was so cathartic and I loved the rdr1 setting so much so that I made this pre black water heist or whatever 😭🫶 from Arthur’s pov hope you like the characterization 🥹

Tags: established relationship, marriage proposals?? Arthur being a major weenie. Like huge weenie. He is soooo sooo sweet it’s almost like too much and I love love love sweet Arthur so very fluffy!!!! Pre black water !! Dutch being a jerk 😒 but cute dad Hosea moments ☺️

Arthur wants things to be perfect for you.

(High honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur knows he’s made up his mind when he’s in the tailor’s shop in Blackwater, looking like a lowdown cattle rustler among all of the fancy fabrics on the wall. He and his spurs, his boots scuffed to hell and a leather satchel slung over his chest. He’s out of place and he knows it. But he’s here to buy a new shirt.

Yesterday, he had nearly driven himself insane looking for a shirt of his that wasn’t ruined, ripped and mended, dirty, stained irreparably. None of them were good enough for what he wanted, something nice to get down on one knee and ask his girl to marry him. And so he kissed you goodbye and rode into town in search of something better. He makes an effort at pretending to be interested in any of the fancy stuff, silk and linen suits that he sure will never be fitted for him. He clears his throat as the attendant drags his eyes away from the sunday paper.

A tight lipped smile consumes the man's face. Arthur already can sense the assumptions he’s getting but he pays little mind to it. He’s getting this shirt and that's that.

“How can I help you, sir?” Obnoxious and nasally, the thin and short man's voice already gives away his air of superiority. Arthur's eyes narrow but he isn’t too irritated yet.

“Here to get a shirt.” His words are simple. The attendant raises a brow.

“Just a shirt, not… pants or shoes?” the attendant lowers the paper to scan over the rest of Arthur’s clothes. Arthur can hardly ignore the burn of insecurity.

He gives a look that conveys how quickly he is losing his patience. “Excuse me?” He can only tell his posture changed when he observes the man's attitude change, clinging to the counter between them like it would make any difference.

“No, well sir, perhaps I’ve overstepped, I apologize. What kind of-of shirts were you thinking?”

“Listen, I ain’t here to cause no trouble, just show me what you’ve got,” The attendant hurries to show him some options, tries to sell him a vest but that isn’t happening with his budget.

In the end, he picks a blue french dress shirt. Costs a real pretty penny but he wants it to be special. Because you’re special. He stuffs it away in a saddlebag after thanking the attendant, who no doubt heaves a sigh of relief after he leaves.

-

He’s been collecting rings. In a special bag is a collection. A few plain gold bands, some with stones set in them. They’re pretty blue and red gems, some have filigree detailing. But he still can’t find the right one.

Worse then, is that they’re rings of all different sizes which he gets from his more sordid activities. Debt collecting or train robberies. It’s all stolen goods. It feels wrong to give you something like that but when he told Dutch his intentions, he clapped him on the back and told him to look in the collection box for more rings. He nodded then but it was half hearted. Somehow that was more souring. Did he really want to give you something he took from someone else? That someone else bought for their loved one with the express purpose of giving them something to symbolize how they loved each other? His own thoughts swirl circles in his head, why he had these scruples about it, he didn’t know.

It’s riding with Hosea that he asks for advice. They’ve been working on a job in Tumbleweed, trying to con some poor fool into giving money he shouldn’t by pretending to sell land deeds. They ride all the way from the yellow grasses of Hennigan’s Stead and it’s been mostly quiet over the stretch of passing though Armadillo. Arthur decides to speak up after they pass through town. The sun is beginning to dip a bit lower in the sky but they’ll be in Tumbleweed before then.

“I been-”

“This about you n’ the girl?” Hosea already has a knowing smile and Arthur rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should do it! You two would make quite the couple, she’s a sweetheart, that girl,”

“Yeah, she-she’s… I’ve been lookin’ at rings to give ‘er,” He grips the reins before going lax, riding easily along the path. Hosea murmurs, letting Arthur continue. He guides Boadicea down the dusty road. “I don’t think I wanna give her something I got robbin’, don’t seem right,”

“Then get her something new, I don’t think she’ll mind at all. But you do what you think you should. You could probably fence all the other rings you thought about and get her something quite nice with the cash,”

“Yeah, I could do that,” why hadn't he thought of that?

“That’s a wonderful thing, getting married. Don’t be afraid to, y’know, go through with it. If you’re thinkin’ about it. Maybe, once Dutch and I find the perfect spot for the gang to settle down, we’ll build you two your own little thing on the land,”

“You that confident she’ll say yes?” Arthur has an awkward and disbelieving laugh but Hosea keeps his earnest smile.

“Why wouldn’t she? Arthur, somehow, she has gone for a man like you, you should be over the moon, you should be whistling tunes everywhere you go,”

“Like me? What's that supposed to mean?” He knows what he means. A man like him had very little to offer you, a young woman who could easily charm some other well established man into giving you a home. Leagues away from his cot and the weathered canvas he put up to give you some small amount of privacy.

“You remember what happened with that Mary woman. This time, things oughta turn out better. This one’s got no old man to chase you around with a shotgun,” Hosea figures himself very funny and laughs, ending it with a shallow cough. Arthur furrows his brows.

Of course he reminded him of his disaster with Mary. He could never escape that woman, even when he severed ties with her. But how he had wanted to, especially with you. Yes, it was true, he had loved Mary. But now he loves you. He needs you. His idea of the rest of his life always includes you, laying in bed with him, gently stroking his chest, leaving him love notes in his satchel, telling him what happened in the camp while he was gone. He always listens, always wakes up smiling with you tucked under his arm.

“I remember just fine,” he grunts,

“Good, because you’ll forget about her soon enough. Month from now, I suppose. Where are you going to tell her?”

“Where? I didn’t think we was gonna go nowhere, just tell her when I was ready to…” he hadn’t even imagined a place when he first set out to do this.

“So you wanna propose; with Uncle standing behind her, drunk off his ass in just his soiled union suit?”

“I-”

“Take her somewhere special, somewhere to make her feel special! Women like to feel special, Arthur, you know that,”

“I do?” He says, with a sarcastic edge to his voice, though he tries on his attempt at sounding uninvested.

“You should. I didn’t do that enough. I should have before, well…” Arthur nods, bowing his head a little as if in remembrance. He hopes to always have you by his side. Otherwise he would be much like Hosea: carrying a torch for a woman who passed through his life too quickly.

-

He starts his journey looking for something special. Special like you are. Keeps his eye out, marking potential things in his map, and makes a list in his journal. Aurora Basin maybe, a pretty lake deep in the forest but getting attacked by bears doesn’t sound romantic in any way. There are some sweeping vistas overlooking the San Luis River in Rio Bravo. He isn’t quite sure about anything though, thinking it over deeply. He just wants things to be perfect.

He’s still thinking about it when he comes back to camp, close to Lake Don Julio, sighing. Thinking much too hard obviously, he doesn’t notice that you’re sitting on his bed, biting your nail nervously until you see him first. You look worried, happy to see him but worried. You stand, hugging your arms around yourself and then placing them on your hips to make you seem more upset but you just drop them when he’s close enough.

“Hey, darlin’,” He utters, opening his arms to give you a hug but you just look up at him. He drops them, mentally kicking himself before taking his hat off and sitting down on his bed.

“Arthur, you’ve been gone three days,”

“I know,” you’re disappointed in his answer. You take a breath and a pause, looking off to the right. He stares down at his scuffed and weather worn boots. He hates to disappoint you, hates when you’re upset. It takes a lot to get you there, too. You’re a forgiving soul when he knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. He looks away, like a dog who knew he shouldn’t have chewed those leather boots up to bits.

“You know. I asked everyone where you were and they didn’t know,”

“Honey, I ain’t gonna leave you, I’m not-”

“You leave other men out of this, Arthur,” you already predicted he’d bring another man’s failings to make up for his own. Maybe bringing up John’s shortcomings while you’re upset is a little below the belt but it worked better in his head. He puffs some air out in a laugh. God, he just can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“Is something funny? Is how much-how much I worry funny to you?” You look like you’re gonna cry, squeezing your arms tight around yourself. Your eyes flick around, thinking of all the people watching, never any goddamn privacy in this place. You start to back up, looking for a place to hide your tears.

“No, no, I- I’m sorry, don’t go walkin’ away,” You let him pull you back. Let him tug you into his lap. You sniff and tuck into his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says at least 5 more times. His hands pet down your hair, holding you. He hadn’t wanted to come back to such a harrowing fear in the pit of his stomach, the thought of you walking off without him. He thinks himself lucky that you haven’t had enough of him and decided to leave already.

Arthur pulls you in real tight, doesn’t let up til’ you start to calm down a little. “Shouldn’t cry for me, sweet girl, bastard like me ain’t worth them tears,” he wipes a few away. Seeing you like this could make him cry if he thought about it too much, how he had let you down. His nerves almost make him tremble, the slightest shake in his fingers when he brushes them under your eyes, shiny with tears. If anyone else made you cry, he’d knock their teeth out. But what is he supposed to do when it’s him? Sickness roils around his abdomen.

“Where were you, anyway?” You shake your head at his words. “Mac and Davey said…” he perks up at that. Those boys are a terror. His face screws up in an anticipated anger. He’d be angrier with them, they’re the ones who need to see it, not you.

“What’d they say?”

“No, they were just messing with me. I don’t think it’s true,” You look away. But he knows exactly how nasty those boys can be. He gives you a look and you give him a defeated one in return. An embarrassment leaks into your words. You can’t meet his eyes, twiddling your fingers.

“They said you were at the saloon in town. They said things that aren’t true and I know it but it isn’t nice to leave me here with nothing to say about it,”

“I know, darlin’, next time, you’ll be the first to know where I’m goin’,” You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulder while he pats your back, grabs your thigh so he can pull you to sit across his lap fully.

“Are you gonna answer my question or should I take their word?” you tease and he reassures you about those boys. They’ll be hearing from him soon enough.

“I’m gonna have a word with them, don’t worry about it,” he scratches his beard. How is he supposed to say that he went riding around looking for a place to take you so he can ask you to take his sorry hand in marriage? He had already disappointed you and saying it’s a secret is a laughable idea.

“Well, I was out, uhh- huntin’?” You frown and lean away.

“Arthur, you’re an awful hunter and an awful liar,” you look really hurt. You almost stand but he pulls you back. He needs something to tell you and fast.

“I was out lookin’ for somethin’ real special to give you. It’s supposed to be a surprise…but well, I can’t keep no secrets from you, sweetheart,” You fuss a little, a wariness in your posture. You study his expression. It isn’t a complete lie, makes it a bit easier to pull off. He really does have a surprise for you. He tries to keep his face neutral, but his lips twitch up when yours do to, a small smile shining through the clouds of your emotional turmoil.

“What surprise?”

“I didn’t find it, guess a surprise, it’s gonna have to stay,” You pout and wiggle, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Ok, but once you find it, you better take me to see it right away,” You kiss him, soft and sweet, holding his prickly jaw in one hand. He can feel how your pout gives way to a smile. The feeling of your soft lips on his is one of those things he’ll never get sick of, never get over.

“I will, promise,”

-

He’s found the perfect ring, really, by chance. It’s a little thing but it’s the right color, goes well with you. The rock on it isn’t very big but he saw it in a window while in town. Some big fancy jewelry store, showing off all the finer things that he never paid any mind to. Unless it was to steal it of course. But he had bought it. With money that may have been also robbed but it was from hitting a Del Lobo stash. A good deed, probably in a backwards sense.

The girls had ‘oohed’ at it, Mary-Beth had an excited tiny clap and Tilly rejoiced. Jenny nodded with a small smile.

“We’re happy for you Arthur! Oh my god, Arthur Morgan, gettin’ married…” Tilly giggles, putting her hands to her cheeks and clasping her hands in front of the skirt of her yellow dress.

Karen laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day,”

“Don’t listen to her, I mean we was hoping when we saw you two huddled up all the time,” Mary-Beth takes the ring from him, holding it closer, so that Jenny and Tilly can get a closer look.

“Hey, be careful with that,” he murmured, trying not to sound too desperate. He scratches his neck instead of snatching it back like his instinct wants him to. Evening is coming soon, purple dusk and soft coyote yipping and howling far in the distance marks the sun's descent. Meaning you’re probably finishing up whatever it is you’re doing. He hopes you don’t come around the corner at an inopportune time. Arthur turns his head this way and that.

“Where’d you get it? Looks new, ain’t scuffed to high heaven like everything else around here,” Jenny points out and the girls nod.

“Bought it in town,” playing it off doesn’t work so well.

They ‘ooh’ some more. “Fancy. Only the best for Arthur’s sweetheart,” Karen coos teasingly.

“Gimme that,” grumbling, he takes the ring back, bowing his head so they can’t see the embarrassment plain on his face. He meanders off after asking how things have been. Of course, they only give him updates about you, Karen jokes that that’s all he wants to hear about anyway. He scoffs and wishes them a good evening.

But the perfect spot is yet to be discovered. Evades him like just about nothing else. He almost gives up on the idea. He’s been taking you out, trying to get you in the almost perfect moments. Taking you out on the town in Blackwater was a good time, he bought you dinner and took you on a stroll down the cobbled streets, watching your face light up when you saw something pretty in a window, clutching his hand and pulling him in more. He almost proposed on the veranda at the Blackwater saloon. Only for a fight to break out at the poker table to interrupt.

Then he took you out to see the poppy fields in Great Plains. But he had let his anxiousness and his nerves overtake him. He had tucked the ring away. You had looked so beautiful standing among the flowers, it was perfect but he just…couldn’t. Instead, he wrote in his journal about his own cowardice. Wrote about if he should lock you to him for the rest of your life. If he’d end up leaving you a widow. Or if you were to be taken from him like Annabelle and Bessie. Leaving behind lonely men who longed for a woman gone from this world. Then he scribbled pictures of you, trying to draw the motion in your hair and in your dress and the beaming most enchanting smile he had ever seen.

Boadicea munched on the long wheat grass, waving in the wind while he kept a watchful eye on you, picking flowers in your pretty dress fluttering against the bright blue of the sky. You have a bunch of candy orange poppy flowers held together by your palms, a bright smile on your face. You walk to where he sits, leaning against the tree, next to a small broken down stone fence. Your smile falters when you see his pensive expression. You come close enough to touch. You dangle one flower above him before you tuck it into the frayed ropes banded around the crown of his hat. He lowers his head while you fuss. Smiling like a fool. You smile again too, sitting beside him. You both listen to the sound of the quiet plains, breeze in the branches above him. The shade is cool, light filters beautifully over your features, speckled like the back of a doe.

“Something has been going on with you, Arthur,” you state as pure fact, knowing him all too well. You had only really known each other a year and have only been together as a couple for six months but you knew him better than anyone else. You had let him be himself, let him just…be. He didn't need to say anything for you to understand him.

“I’ve just been… thinkin’ bout some things,”

“Really? I thought you said you weren’t very good at that,” you smile a little, nudging his shoulder. Hoping to lift his spirits with his similar brand of humor but when he hardly huffs a laugh, you frown. “Is it about you and me?”

“Yeah, in a way,” he says, unable to hide anything from you. Why should he bother? Saying no would make you more suspicious. Arthur closes his eyes and can feel the panic rising in you. He could have been better about saying it but he’s quick to deflect it away from his secret. “You happy with me?” low and grumbled, the severity makes his tone go way down.

“I don’t understand. Do I not seem happy? Arthur, I’ve never…I’ve never been happier than I am with you. You’re the kind of man any girl would be lucky to have,” You smile, leaning to face him. Softening up, your eyes track over his face.

He wanted to ask you right then and there. Tell you just how much you complete him. How lucky he was to have you, how there never was a happier time in his life. He doesn’t believe in that sentiment you have, he had failed the women in his life. But he had wanted to make a vow, to never leave you alone. It’s his own nerves that wrap tight around his hands, don’t let him reach in his satchel for the little treasure that will be your wedding ring.

“No, I just know I been gone, I don’t wanna ignore you. I just been busy,”

“You have things to do,” You sigh heavily. “I wish the other men would be as helpful as you. Sometimes, I watch Sean, Uncle, and Bill lay around all day while you’re out working. It doesn’t seem fair,” Your brows pinch in a small dissatisfaction with the idea. He smirks.

“I don’t know how much I trust Sean to get things done right. We’d probably eat nothin’ but leaded rabbit meat and whiskey if we left it up to that boy,” You giggle and nod. Happy to see him back in his joking mood.

“Arthur… You know I love you, don’t you?” God, those words make him shiver. Make his heart rattle in his chest. Could swear his insides turn about 3 times. So sweet, you look at him, hands on his thighs, leaning into his side. He opens his arm for you to tuck into, grabbing your waist to pull you close.

“Yeah, I do. Love you more,” he can feel heat flush up his neck and cheeks but he doesn’t care if he looks like a lovesick idiot. Your joy is worth it. The wind blows your hair over your shoulder, you let him sweep it back some more. Your pretty laugh when he bows over to lay you down on the grass makes him chuckle.

-

He’s finally found it. Montana Ford. A shallow spot in the river he discovered, looking for a short cut trying to cross from New Austin into West Elizabeth. He hated riding through the Del Lobo populated Thieves Landing, especially after they were catching on that it was Dutch and his boys robbed their stash two weeks ago. He sighed and then he veered off the road, looking for somewhere to cross. And the shaded river was perfect.

He stays there a moment, looking at the pretty grass growing alongside the water, the light glittering over the surface. The sound of the river rushing by fills his head pleasantly. You’d love it, you’d toss your boots aside and wade into the river, lifting your skirts high enough to hopefully not get wet. But you’d be wet anyway. He’d do it too, you made him feel like he was twenty despite his thirty some years on this earth.

He decides to sit and sketch it and write about you. Just how excited he was at how everything was coming together. He feels like a kid, sappy but too devoted to care very much at the small heart he puts on his map. He’s almost embarrassed of himself. Even with no one to see. He folds his map up and stuffs his journal away, whistling his horse over. With a soft word or two, he mounts up and continues on to his destination.

-

It's been three days since he found the spot he would take you to and he’s had a ring in his satchel that glares up at him every time he opens it to pull out a cigarette. Of course, just as everything comes together, Dutch insists he go scouting for some new venture, looking to follow a treasure hunter so they could rob him. It ends up being a whole lot of nothing from a bad tip but Dutch has a ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ speech to try and lick his own wounds at Arthur’s expense. Arthur rolls his eyes. Feels his hands knot into fists.

“Maybe next time, it’ll be you runnin’ all over New Austin on some wild goose chase! And I’ll give you this bullshit. Wouldn’t that be just fine, wasting your goddamn time-”

“Arthur, calm down! I don’t have time for your complaining. Where is that girl of yours? Why don’t you blow some of that steam off with her? It’s obvious to me-”

“Dutch…stop pushing the boy,” Hosea remarks from where he’s reading a book nearby. Arthur postures to continue arguing and Dutch shoots a glare before waving him off. He looks to Hosea and backs away, huffing. But before he can go for a smoke to hopefully calm himself down so he could be with you, Hosea calls him over.

“So… have you popped the question?”

“No, I ain’t got time most days,” He sighs in defeat, dropping his weight on the seat next to him, resting on his knees, leaned over. He takes his hat off to adjust his hair before putting it back on. He hadn’t seen you in another two days on account of this stupid ploy to rob a treasure hunter who didn’t know left from right and east from west. What an idiot. But not nearly as foolish as he.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell Dutch to leave you out of these plots of his. I’ll even tell Miss Grimshaw that she’ll be gone. Take her and ride away for a couple of days. I hope to see a ring on her finger when you get back. In fact, I’ll be expecting it!” Hosea has a smile on his face, the excitement is genuine. Arthur nods.

“And what if she says no?”

“Well you keep at it. Perhaps a little persistence is all you need but why do you insist on imagining the worst?” It’s as if after asking, he considers why Arthur might not want to change things irreparably, might have already put his heart on the line and had it thrown away before.

“Arthur, the sting of rejection must be pretty…pretty lamentable. But you wouldn’t be trying this hard if you really thought you didn’t have a good chance,” Hosea sets his book down. “Go get some rest… leave first thing in the morning,” Hosea pats Arthur lightly on his shoulder. Arthur looks up as Hosea wanders in the direction of his tent.

His heart does yearn to see you at his side, wearing his ring on your finger. To hear you referred to as Mrs. Morgan. But all he can see is an incredulous look on your face. ‘Marry? Me? Arthur, you must be joking,’ you laugh and laugh. You’d never be so cruel but whatever part of him hates his own guts imagines the scenarios with great fervor. The anger from the rest of his day and the anger at himself grit against each other. He growls low before marching off to his tent.

You’re already inside, looking very lovely, one of his mended shirts serving as something of a robe to wear over your underthings. You look up and smile. He could forget the whole world just by looking at you. You hum, scooting over in bed.

“Arthur…” the way you call his name, you hardly need to give him any pet names, just Arthur will do.

“Come out with me tomorrow. First thing in the morning,” He states. More like a command, the residual anger drips off his words. You look at him strangely.

“Alright but I’d like to know what all of this is about first,” You set whatever you were working on, perhaps brushing your hair as you set a horsehair brush aside. You give him a concerned look.

“Found that surprise,” he grumbles, sitting down and tugging his boots off. “Hope you’ll like it but…” he stops to tug his gun belt off, his suspenders too. Arthur rests his hat gently on the side table. “Can’t be too sure til I show it to ya,” You smile softly.

“I think if you think I like it, I’ll love it,” God, he hopes so. Anticipation bounces around in his head and in his lungs. He’s practically short of breath. How he’s going to sleep, he has no idea.

“Yeah?” you hum in agreement. Looking sleepy, he’s endeared by how your eyes blink slowly, how you wiggle onto his chest the second he lays down. Your hands rub down his chest and belly. You’re asleep in a matter of minutes. He almost wishes he had you for company still but he’d never wake you for something so selfish. Instead, he pets down your hair and listens to your breathing, the natural hush that covers the camp once it’s too late for much of anything but small chatter.

-

Like clockwork, he wakes early. He can’t remember falling asleep but you're softly murmuring, you won’t wake unless he expressly wakes you. He gives himself time to put on that shirt he bought and rub his hand over his face at how nervous and silly he feels buttoning it up. He pulls a jacket over it to hopefully hide how ridiculous he looks. The morning is a pale blue when he steps out, thinking to bring you coffee to wake you.

You dress, half asleep, when he comes back to you, humming into the cup he brought you. You wear something nice but not overstated. You put kisses on him to wish him a good morning after you’ve decided you’re cleaned up enough.

He helps you up on his horse, Boadicea already very used to you. The ride isn’t too bad and you certainly make it better, he’s quiet with nerves, responding as much as he can without getting lost in his thoughts. The sun has climbed up and blazed down on you for a while by the time you get there. But your face when you see his surprise is too precious, eager to slip off the back of his horse.

“Arthur, it’s so beautiful!” The summer sun is high in the sky, perfect for your plans as you tug your boots off. He ambles after you, hitching his horse to a tree. You’re already sighing and knee deep in the center of the river. Your stockings lay haphazardly tossed over your boots. You’re some fabled creature, come from somewhere else. He could see it. No woman shined like you did, at least not how he saw things.

Just like he imagined, he rolls his pants up and tosses his boots aside, the spurs jingle when they hit the ground. The light catches the river’s surface, shades of yellow and green, the earth's gentle brown. You’re excited to see him join you, taking his hand that he holds out to you, pressed to his belly and chest, just where you belong.

“You like it, sweetheart?” He mumbles, really fishing for compliments. He knows you do but he’d love to hear you say it.

“I love it, Arthur, how could you say I wouldn’t? Sometimes, you’re a silly man,” you laugh, sway with him in the river. Birds sing, the water is cool, it’s perfect. He pulls you up to a shallower part of the ford, the sun forms a halo around you, reminds him you’re pure heaven and he couldn’t let you go.

“I have something else for you,” his voice is shaky instead of the easy confidence he likes to portray himself as. You look up excitedly but the dazzling smile slips off your face, you're shocked as he pulls a ring from his satchel and kneels down in the river.

“I-uhhh…I-“ he had really planned all of this and didn’t think of a single word to say. He can't bear to look up, he’s sure he’ll lose his nerve. “I haven’t loved…anyone like I love you,” the ring looks tiny and pathetic in his fingers. They’re also calloused to hell but he continues anyway. “There ain’t anyone else for me in this world but you. I just wish I was a better man, you deserve more than I can give but… if you would have me,” he looks up and your hands cover your mouth and tears leak over your fingers.

He really had ruined everything, hadn’t he? How was he supposed to go on living with you? What would he tell Hosea? His face falls and his heart cracks but he’d be glad to take you back home and disappear for a few days.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, don’t know what I thought,”

“Arthur, just please…” you hold out your left hand. You wipe your tears, trying to compose yourself and when he sees your smile, your hand over your right cheek, he lets himself ease. “Nothing would make me happier than to be- to be your wife, Arthur, you are…you’re the best man I know,” you wiggle your fingers excitedly and he slips the ring over your ring finger. He stays stunned, kneeled in the water, his pants soaking it all up but he couldn’t care less.

The ring looks so perfect on you. He holds your hand, kissing it like a knight of old, looking at him down on his knee, still crying but that brightness in your eyes is all he needs. Your giggle makes him smile at you too. And you drop to embrace him, tucking into his chest, arms around his neck. You murmur his name, rub his back. Tangle your fingers in his hair. He settles with you, surrounded by your unmistakable presence, basking in it. Holds you tighter, trying to not squeeze the air out of you. He breathes you in, holding you through your overwhelmed clinging, wiping your tears on his shoulder.

You pull back a little, enough to kiss him, his relief is groaned into your mouth. He loses track of himself and slips, sitting in a river with you in his arms, giggling more into his kiss.

You sit with him on the banks, trying to dry out after he tipped over. So much for his fancy shirt. He thinks the both of you will look half drowned by the time he brings you back to camp but he isn’t sure he wants to go back. Just you and him for a few days sounds rather enticing. You keep looking at your ring, leaned into his shoulder. A pleased little smile blooms over your face. How can he not smile at how beautiful you look, hair wet at the ends, warm light casting its glow over you.

You look up at him, with a look that says you’re gonna cry again but you just give him a teary smile.

“I’m a lucky bastard, get to call you mine,” You wrap one tiny hand over his neck when you kiss him slow and deep, letting him consume the very air in your lungs, grip over your body to feel it. You moan just softly enough to pull on his need for you. But you part ways for you to continue.

“Did you really think I’d say no?” you give him a sad frown. As if upset that he would think such a thing of you. You brush your fingers against his skin. He looks away.

“You wouldn’t have been the first,” you sigh.

“Who could say no to Arthur Morgan?” You ask no one in particular but he huffs a small laugh.

“Many people,” a joking tone tinges his words. But then he dips towards the sentimental. “Don’t even remember, really, all I think about is you, darlin’…” You laugh before coming closer, unable and unwilling to part from him. He knows he’s a hundred and one percent sap but he lets himself melt in your presence.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” you wiggle your left hand in his face. He chuckles a little at your cute little fingers. “I’m glad…it means I get you all to myself,” The joy is boundless in his chest, he could light the night like a lightning bug with the flame in his heart.

“Arthur, I… I… sometimes I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love you,” you lean onto him. He shakes his head with what he’s sure looks like a stupid grin on his face. He wasn’t sure this would be in the cards for him but here he is, with you.

“Every part of me loves you, honey,” is all he has to say, paling in comparison to the pure power of your own words over him. They tumble clumsily from his mouth but you pull him down for kisses anyway. Your teasing ‘do you?’ has him nodding between your giggles and wet kisses.

-

Thank you so much for leaving me this request, I loved writing it!! It was so much fun and I really had fun including some parts of rdr1 map that were really special to me and brought me back to when I was a kid playing that game 🥹🥹🥹🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️ any feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading 🥰🫶

[wendichester]

is it okay if I request a sam x reader where sam is secretly in love with you but reader is dating dean and music and personality wise reader is a lot more like sam?

₊˚⊹ ᰔ happier,

summary. maybe you've picked the wrong brother. sam thinks so.

pairing. unrequited lover!sam winchester x reader ft. dean winchester

wordcount. 662

notes. this honestly broke my heart a little. i am not okay ˙◠˙

The bunker’s library is dimly lit, the warm glow of a desk lamp casting shadows across Sam’s face as he flips through an old book. The faint sound of your favorite song hums from the kitchen, where Dean is cooking—or attempting to. Sam knows you must have convinced him to play it.

He doesn’t look up when you walk in, but he knows it’s you. Your scent—something faintly floral and sweet—fills the room before you even say a word. You’re always here, hanging around Dean, but it’s Sam you seem to click with when it comes to conversation, music, and shared interests. You’re like him, and it’s something he tries to bury deep down.

“Hey, Sammy,” you say, plopping down in the chair across from him with a grin.

Sam’s heart skips a beat at the nickname you’ve claimed just for him. Dean calls him “Sammy” too, but it’s different when it’s you. When it’s you, it’s softer, sweeter, like you’re letting him into a part of your world you don’t share with Dean.

“What are you working on?” you ask, tilting your head and leaning forward, your elbows on the table. Your loose flannel—Sam’s flannel, lent to you during a cold night in the Impala—is unbuttoned over a tank top, your tattoos peeking from beneath the sleeves.

“Just researching,” he says, his voice carefully neutral as he slides the book toward you. “Possible lore on the hunt.”

You nod, eyes scanning the page. You’re so focused, biting your lip like you always do when you’re concentrating. It’s one of the many little things Sam has noticed about you, the small quirks that make you who you are, that make him fall a little more every day.

“You’ve got that look,” you tease, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“What look?” he asks, his voice slightly defensive.

“The ‘I’m overthinking everything and carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders’ look,” you say with a smirk.

Sam chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Guess it’s hard to hide.”

You reach across the table, your hand brushing his briefly as you slide the book back toward him. His skin burns at the contact, and he hates himself for the way his heart aches.

Dean strolls into the room then, plates of food in hand. “Dinner’s ready,” he announces, setting a plate in front of you. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple, and Sam forces himself to look away.

“Thanks, babe,” you say, smiling up at Dean. Your eyes light up when you’re with him, and Sam can’t blame Dean for falling for you. He just wishes he’d had the chance first.

As the three of you eat, you and Sam inevitably end up in your usual rhythm—talking about books, dissecting song lyrics, and trading inside jokes Dean doesn’t quite get. Dean doesn’t seem to mind; he’s used to it by now, but Sam wonders if he notices how much easier it is for you to talk to him than to Dean.

Later that night, when the bunker is quiet and Sam is alone in his room, he leans back in his chair and closes his eyes.

You’re with Dean, and Sam knows better than to get in the way. Dean’s his brother, his blood, and he’d never betray him like that. But the way you fit so easily into Sam’s world, the way you laugh at his dry humor and share his taste in music—it feels like the universe is mocking him.

He pulls out his journal, the one no one knows about, and writes down a single thought before closing it and setting it aside:

“She would be so much happier with me.”

Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his chair. Loving you from afar is torture, but it’s a pain he’ll endure if it means seeing you happy, even if it’s not with him.

For now, that will have to be enough.

⋆.˚ ★— read part 2

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze

[paradoxicalwritings]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ◦ smut, drinking, mature content, mdni

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 ◦ nsfw | fem!reader | reader is a writer | college tsukishima | tsukishima but a little sweeter | drinking | drunken confessions | reconnecting with high school crush | tipsy!smut | 3.4k words

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ◦ haikyuu masterlist ◦ navigation

𝐯.𝐢.𝐩. ◦ @takes1

It’s funny how the world works. When you walked into your favorite cafe in Sendai, you didn’t expect to see him. You also didn’t expect him to look as good as he did. His hair that always had a slight curl to it was now much longer, touching his ears now, his new glasses fit his face shape much better now and gave him a much more put together appearance, not to mention he was muscular now.

As you waited for your mocha to be done, you contemplated talking to him. It has been well over two years, and it’s not like you two were on bad terms when you last talked; the two of you just loved tangoing over the lines of annoyance and fondness. 

“Mocha with an extra shot of espresso!” the barista called out, setting down your paper cup. You thanked them, drumming your fingers against the cup as you steeled your resolve. 

You leaned into Tsukishima’s line of sight, smiling, “I didn’t know you were allowed in places like this, Goliath.”

For just a second, he was taken aback, but in typical Tsukishima fashion he didn’t let himself be without a retort. He pretended as though he couldn’t see you, looking above your head, “Where did that sound come from?” He looked down, directly into your eyes, “Oh, that’s where that irritating sound came from.”

You both stopped for a second, just staring into each other’s eyes, taking the other in, then you both started laughing. You always found his laugh particularly beautiful. It was higher pitched than his normal voice, with a slight scratch to it. Even when he managed to cross the line between fun jabs and mean comments, his honey-sweet laugh softened the blow.

The chair screeched against the hardwood floor as you pulled it out to sit in front of him. He shut his laptop and propped his chin on his fist, “To what do I owe the pleasure, (Y/N)?”

You took a sip of your drink, “Pure coincidence, I fear.” You looked him up and down from your seat, you still couldn’t believe how different he looked, “What have you been up to, Tsukishima?”

He looked off, pretending that he didn’t want to drink in your appearance, “Well, Uni, of course, as well as the volleyball team. I recently started working at a museum though.”

You smiled, working at a museum was just so him. It made your heart ache, how despite not being in contact for multiple years, he was still the same high school boy you tried to one up every single day, “That’s exactly like you.”

You saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks, he always got embarrassed when you would point out things about him that you happened to notice, “How about you, finally doing anything interesting?”

That was always his go to jab, that you had such a boring life. You didn’t join a club in high school, instead choosing to have your own private hobbies. “Har har, Tsukki,” you took another sip of your mocha, toying with the cardboard sleeve, “I actually came here to work on my book.”

Your mind flooded back to second year, when Tsukishima happened to see you writing in your journal for the first time. You liked hand writing stories, ever since you were a kid. The genre and themes were always different; sometimes horror, other times coming of age, you even branched out into sci-fi for a time. That year you had grown a particular penchant for romance. Tsukishima grabbed your notebook from in front of you, and started reading it aloud. Your face burned in embarrassment. You got on your tiptoes, even jumping to try to grab it back, but he held it out of reach, continuing to read it. You eventually gave up, sitting in your seat with your face buried in your hands. You heard the journal be gently set on your desk. You looked up at Tsukishima, the tips of his ears pink, “You’re good at writing. You should keep doing it.”

Tsukishima looked at you, “Really, what’s this one about?”

You hummed in thought, remembering the books you said it was similar to when talking to your publisher, “Have you read Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishigo, or watched Good Will Hunting?”

He chucked, “You know I haven’t.”

You laughed too, whenever you brought up a specific book or movie and asked him if he’d seen it, it was always a no, “You’re right, I don’t know why I asked.”

The two of you talked for hours, neither of you doing any of the work you meant to get done. Neither of you really noticed the time passing, and it felt as though the two of you never stopped talking, just picking up where you left off two years ago. You both silently wished that you could stay like this forever, but Tsukishima, ever the practical one, just had to look at his watch. You say his eyes widen for a second, then looking at you, “You still have my number right?”

“Uhh, yea, why would I get rid of it?”

Tsukishima scrambled to pack his bag, “Okay, I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay?”

🏐ˎˊ˗

You had been home for probably two hours. Your eyes were strained from staring at your laptop screen, reading the same paragraphs over and over again. Whoever said “If you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life,” was a liar. You pinched your nose bridge while you waited for your water to boil for pasta.

You heard your phone vibrate from the counter next to you. You picked it up, flashing the screen on to see who was calling. As soon as you saw the first three letters you answered, feeling the same warmth as you did when you first saw him at the cafe, “Hello?”

“Hey. What are you doing?”

You pressed the phone between your shoulder and ear as you poured the box of dried pasta into the pot, “Cooking dinner, why?”

“Ah okay.” You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“You can come over, if you want to.” You prayed that he would, “Only if you bring a bottle of Chianti over though.”

He chuckled on the other end of the line, the sound making your body buzz, “Of course, send me your address.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You grabbed your phone, quickly sending the blonde your address and unit number. This whole thing felt so surreal. When you woke up this morning you weren’t expecting this at all. Part of you wondered if the red string of fate was real and the two of you were meant to meet in that cafe today. You knew Tsukishima would say that that was ridiculous and it was just purely coincidence.

After about fifteen minutes, you heard a knock on your door. You walked down your hallway and looked through your peephole, seeing Tsukishima standing there, shifting from foot to foot and looking down the hall. You pulled your door chain lock off and opened the door, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

The two of you just stared at each other. This really was a turn of events. Neither of you expected to be having dinner with someone else, much less each other. You broke your gaze, pulling the door open wider, stepping to the side, “Come in, I’m almost done.”

“Right.” He stepped past you, holding the bottle of wine up for you, “Is this the right one? I don’t buy wine that often.” 

You grabbed the bottle from him, and snickered in your mind as you shook your head, “No… This is the wrong one.” You saw a look of “Oh shit,” wash over his face before you laughed, “I’m kidding, this is perfect.” Making your way back to the kitchen, you looked again at the label, noticing the brand, “This is actually more expensive than the one I usually buy.”

Tsukishima followed after you, “Do you prefer cheap wines?”

You sighed dramatically, “You know I’m a writer, right?”

He leaned against the counter behind you, “Well, guess it’s good that I’m here to spoil you then.”

Your cheeks got warm at that comment. Spoil you? He wanted to spoil you? Was he flirting with you? Not that you minded. Let’s just say your love of romance in second year wasn’t just because you were in those boy crazy teenage years. No, you were crazy for one particular boy back then. You plated the pasta, and handed it to him, “We can sit on the balcony, if that’s okay with you.”

Tsukishima nodded, “Yea, that sounds nice.”

The two of you walked out to your balcony, the cool breeze feeling nice after being in your sweltering kitchen. You looked at the small table between the two of you, noticing a distinct lack of wine, “Oh crap, let me go grab the wine.” You noticed his eyes linger on your legs as you stood up. 

You rifled through your cupboards for a second wine glass, not finding one. How sad were you that you never even bothered to buy a second wine glass for the possibility of guests? You sighed, relenting to your fate of being teased for drinking alone. You grabbed a tall water glass and your wine glass, walking back to the balcony.

And you were not ready for the sight in front of you, not that it was particularly notable to anyone besides you. Tsukishima was sitting in your balcony chair, arm propped on his knee, bent wrist supporting his chin. The lights of the city and the moon lit up his features. You shook your head, opening the door to the balcony, “Sorry, I don’t have a second wine glass.”

He smirked up at you as you poured wine into the water glass for him, “Not surprising that you don’t have guests.”

You sighed, shaking your head, “I fear you’re getting predictable, Tsukki.”

He took his glass from you, looking wistfully over the railing of your balcony, “You know you can call me Kei, right?”

You paused your own pouring. You could call him Kei? Sure you two talked throughout high school, but you hadn’t realized he viewed you as close enough for that. You resumed your pouring, “Right, Kei.”

The two of you ate in near silence, Kei making some remarks on how good the food was and how he never paired wine with his food. Eventually, the two of you finished eating and started just drinking the wine. It wasn’t long before you started feeling a bit of a buzz, and you were sure he was feeling it as well.

The conversation had taken a more playful and nostalgic turn as the two of you continued to drink. You went back and forth telling stories you remembered of each other from high school. Kei was leaned back in his chair, legs spread wide, and his head lolling back, looking towards you, “Do you remember that one guy in our third year class who was obsessed with you?”

You laughed, “Yea, you had to scare him off every single day.” 

He shrugged, taking a sip of his wine, “I don’t know how he never took the hint.”

You sighed, “Teenage boys can be like that,” the conversation went quiet for a pause, you chuckled, swirling your wine glass, “I think that was the only guy who ever had a crush on me in high school.”

Kei looked out over the balcony, “That’s not true.”

You scoffed, “Who else did?”

He looked towards you, his amber eyes intense, “I did.”

You choked on your wine, setting your glass down as you tried to compose yourself, “You what?”

He laughed, “God, you are dense,” he set his own glass down, “I had a crush on you since first year of high school.”

You groaned, your face in your hands, “Did you actually or are you fucking with me right now?”

Kei rolled his eyes, “I’m an asshole, but I’m not so much of an asshole that I would lie about that.”

You felt long slender fingers touch your own, pulling them away from your face. Kei was leaning down to make eye contact with you, “I think you liked me too.”

You blushed, averting your eyes. You were caught. You were enamored with him in high school. The witty banter, the care hidden below layers of nonchalance, the passion that bloomed like peonies in spring, everything that no one else noticed about him; you did. The small things that no one else could articulate about him made your heart swell with love for him. You gripped his fingers with your own, “I more than liked you.” 

You felt your arm be tugged forward, then you felt soft, thin lips against your own. This was everything you prayed for, for years, when you were in school. You would look at him as he gazed out the window of your classroom, acting as if whatever topic the teacher was talking about was below him, and imagine those pouted lips against your own. But this felt better than any of those fantasies. Your hands reached up to tangle in his hair, the blonde curls just as soft as you imagined they were. Kei’s hand pulled you impossibly deeper into the kiss by the nape of your neck.

Kei pulled back, his hand still on your neck, and while staring into your eyes and said, “We should go to your room.”

You nodded your head, a little kiss drunk, and pulled him by the hand to your bedroom. Kei was on you as soon as you crossed the threshold, his long fingers knotting into your hair, his glasses pressing uncomfortably into your nose, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you cared about was having the man you had pined over for years in your bed. He walked you back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, the both of you toppling over due to the wine.

Kei was leaning over you on his elbows, his head dropping onto your collarbone as you both laughed. Kei gestured with his head upwards, “Scoot up, I wanna be on the bed too.” You both moved up until your head was on your satin pillowcases, the blonde was on his knees over you, “You have no idea how many times I thought about it.” 

You smirked up at him, “Show, don’t tell.” 

He laughed breathily, “God, I missed you.” The two of you started fumbling to remove each other’s clothing, squeezing in sloppy kisses on the other’s body whenever possible. 

When Kei was about to remove your pants, your face burned, “My panties are ugly.”

Kei squinted at you, his glasses having been long abandoned at this point, “I don’t think there’s anything I care about less right now.” He pulled your pants and underwear off in one swoop. He was kneeling between your legs, staring at you, almost in reverence, “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” you said breathily. 

That was all it took for Kei. In his left hand, he grabbed behind your knee and pushed it towards your chest. In his right hand, he ran his fingers up and down your slit. He leaned down to kiss your neck, whispering “You’re so wet already,” against your skin. When he finally inserted a finger you sighed gratefully, head thrown back.

Kei stared at you as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, not taking long to add a second. 

“Mmmhnn-- Kei, just-just like that.”

Kei smiled down at you, “Yea? Yea, you like that?”

You pressed your forearm against your eyes, “Mmmyes, please don’t stop.”

He brought his thumb up to swirl around your clit, feeling light headed at the sound of your moans beneath him. Your back arched off of your plush mattress, “Ooh my God-- Kei!”

He let out a tense breath, like he was trying to contain himself, “Cum on my fingers, baby.” 

That was the final push that you needed, the tightness in your stomach snapping, pussy pulsing around his fingers. You threw the arm that was covering your eyes down to your side, and when you did, you saw Kei sucking on his soaked fingers. He looked absolutely debauched, as though this was his final meal and he wanted to savor it.

Once he noticed you staring, he leaned down to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He pulled back the kiss, “Like how you taste?”

You sat up, smirking at him, “I think I’ll like how you taste better,” but just as you were about to grab his dick, he grabbed your wrist.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m gonna cum immediately if you touch me right now.” 

You giggled, kissing his neck, “You act like such a virgin.”

“Careful, (Y/N).” He pinned both of your legs to your chest with one hand, “Too much teasing, and I might decide to stop.”

You reached your hand around your thighs, spreading your soaked lips for him to see, “No, you won’t.”

He groaned at the right, “Fuck, you’re right. I wouldn’t stop if the damn building was on fire.” He slapped his cock against your pussy, once, twice, three times, and slid the head through your folds. Finally, when he felt like he was sufficiently lubed with your juices, he pushed his long, thick cock in.

The two of you moaned in sync, the feeling of finally having the other was cathartic. It was the same feeling as the loss of tension in your body when you finally make it back home after a long work trip. 

Kei’s thrusts were hard and fast, but not necessarily rough. It was just like him, seeming so intimidating and uninterested from the outside, but once you break down his walls and see him for who he really was, he was just a big softie who noticed every little thing about you. 

His head dropped down, his forehead resting against your legs, “(Y/N)... Mmmnn, I don’t think I can last much longer.”

You reached your hands up, one gripping at his shoulder, and the other at his hair, “That’s okay, it’s okay, I just want you, Kei.”

He groaned, “Especially when you talk like that…”

Kei’s thrusts started to stutter, rhythm being thrown off slightly. You knew he was about to cum, and you were goading him on. You moaned breathily about how good he felt, how badly you wanted him. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as he pulled out, rubbing his cock a few times before spilling on the underside of your thighs.

The two of you laid there, absolutely spent, for a few minutes. Kei was the first one to move, grabbing some tissues from your bedside to clean you off. 

When he was finished wiping off his spend, he laid down, and pulled you on top of him. You giggled at him, not expecting him to be such a cuddle bug, “That was really good, Kei.”

You felt him pout against your shoulder, “Yeah, and we could have been doing that for years if you were honest with me.”

“Hey! That’s not fair,” you squirmed in his grasp, trying to playfully smack him, “You could have told me too!”

He groaned sleepily, “Stop being so lively, just go to bed.” You stilled, and laughed breathily into his hair, deciding he was right and letting sleep take you into its loving arms.

🏐ˎˊ˗

You awoke with a groan at the sound of Kei’s obnoxious ringtone. You leaned on your elbows, watching him answer his phone.

His voice was still rough with sleep, “Hello?”

You could vaguely hear Yamaguchi through the phone, something about “Are we still meeting up for breakfast today?”

Kei’s eye’s shot open, throwing the blanket off of himself, “Shit, right. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’m so sorry.” 

He hung up the phone, threw it onto your bed, and dressed in a hurry. Just as he was about to rush through your door without saying anything to you, he kissed your forehead and said, “I’ll Doordash some breakfast for you.” Kei scrambled out of your bedroom, yelling “I’ll be back soon!” down your hallway.

You turned over onto your stomach, burying your face into your plush pillow, and just laughed. It was funny how the world worked.

𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬

@staincastle for the tsukishima header

[angelicgirlmj]

an angels guide to: holiday dinner parties ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

if there’s one thing i love it’s hosting! especially dinner parties with a theme meaning holiday dinner parties are my fave. this year ive already scheduled one christmas dinner party and am hoping to plan another. here are some tips focused on hosting advice, food and dr

ink, entertainment and outfits! enjoy angels and happy holidays!!

hosting advice `` ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

organise early. there’s nothing worse than wanting to host but leaving it last minute so people can't come. plan your guest list and see what dates would work best for people!

think carefully about your guest list. it’s always a good idea to either invite people who all know each other or a mix of people some who know each other and some who don’t - the last thing you want is two or three guests sitting alone!

invite for the vibe you want. the dinner im hosting is small and intimate, i don’t want it to feel frantic or overly busy so ive kept my guest list reflecting that!

make a pinterest board.

find cute diys to make. things like table decorations, guests charts etc!

set the mood! light some candles, put on some music and make sure the space is clean and organised.

create a playlist - specially for the event!

make invites to send out. this is so cute and fun! digital invites are so easy to do and so adorable as are physical ones.

plan a time you want guests to arrive by at the earliest and at the latest. e.g earliest is six so latest is seven! that way you know when would be good to serve food or start activities.

food and drink `` ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

plan your menu in advance - make sure you know all your guests dietary requirements!

keep it simple with snacks. shop brought cheeses, crackers, spreads and any other kinds of elegant snacks are always delicious and so easy to make look cute on a platter. plus they save you time!

create a cocktail or mocktail for the evening!

make your dessert ahead when possible. mousses, tiramisu, cakes and anything like that are always so perfect and crowd pleasers and can be easily made ahead.

make cute menu sheets. these are so fun and pretty to look at!!

it’s better to keep your menu simple and delicious than overly complex and risk messing it up.

plan your food around a theme! for example all japanese cuisine or love themed food for valentines day.

entertainment `` ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

pick some board/card games to play all together.

plan activities based around the weather. if its really cold or rainy a cute movie night might be better! whereas if its warm or sunny an outdoor dance space or sports game may be more enjoyable.

plan for a range of activities - people arent always going to be up for everything!

suggest guests bring activities. people love feeling involved and this way you can ensure an activity will be popular and fun for everyone.

look on pinterest/tiktok/instagram for suggestions. for example, hosting a powerpoint night is so so enjoyable and funny.

set the night around a themed activity - such as a murder mystery dinner party or a costume dinner party!

bring a digital camera - such a cute way of capturing the night and you can make a scrapbook or photobook afterwards.

find a craft! at the dinner party im hosting around christmas we will be decorating gingerbread houses but there are so many other ideas such as painting, candle making, journaling or decorating items.

outfits/styling tips `` ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

find a cute makeup look on pinterest to fit your theme! i love a glittery fairy inspired look for christmas parties.

make sure you have an apron or that your outfit wont show any potential mess - remember you may be in and out of the kitchen!

wear something that makes you feel pretty and confident.

find an elegant way of styling your hair - a simple updo or pretty braid can make you look ready for a more dressy occasion.

commit fully to your theme/evening vibes. as the host its so important to make sure all of your guests feel like they can dress up or try something different and feel comfortable!

accessories like bows, hairclips, rings, bracelets, necklaces, hair scarfs or pretty hairties and cute shoes can really make an outfit stand out.

either have a layer on you or a layer you can easily take on and off in case the temperature changes.

make sure you plan time for a shower or bath and are able to do your fully selfcare routine! it will help you feel at peace and less stressed for the dinner ahead.

thank you for reading angels - let me know if any of you are hosting a dinner party or any tips you have!! i love this time of year and its such a great opportunity to see friends and families. remember a dinner party can be as big or small as you like, in fact you could have a dinner party just for yourself in order to treat you! whatever you get up to im sure youll be the most wonderful of hosts.

love, m.

[gotham-daydreams]

How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.

I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!

I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.

Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.

Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.

Nevertheless, back to the reader!

From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.

One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.

Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!

They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.

Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.

When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.

So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.

Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.

It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.

Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.

The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.

The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.

It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.

Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.

However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.

Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.

You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.

Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!

Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.

So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.

Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.

He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.

No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.

Let's just say, things work out a little too well.

---

As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!

Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!

I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.

So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.

This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.

... Hopefully.

I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.

Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.

Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.

Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.

The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!

Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.

Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)

I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.

Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.

The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.

So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.

Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.

Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.

So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.

I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?

So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.

I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!